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chimcess · 1 year ago

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→ Chapter Two: A Rock and a Secret Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 9k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warning: Non-con kissing, strong language, blood, self injury, nightmare, PTSD, pining, angst, heart ache, longing, long hair Jimin, I love Taehyung so much, he’s so much fun to write, crying, not much to report here tbh, let me know if I missed anything A/N: How do we feel about the updated versions so far? Yes, I have combined old chapters and combined them so we can have longer (and less) parts. I know some of you liked longer updates so you are getting your wish!

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I couldn’t see past the smoke. It was a roiling, black mass, punctuated by brilliant yellow flames that danced like demons in the night. Shiloh’s voice cut through the chaos, a desperate cry reaching out through the suffocating darkness, pleading for me to return. Inside, the screams were a cacophony of terror and anguish, and I ran, my small feet pounding the earth as I shouted for Auntie. Shiloh’s cries grew louder behind me, but I ignored her, driven by a singular need to reach the cottage. I had to get to Aldara.

But the distance stretched endlessly, the screams crescendoed, and Shiloh’s voice became an unbearable buzz in my ears. I was sobbing, calling Aldara’s name, feeling the forest around me weep. The spirits that had once tormented me now seemed my only solace, and I crumpled to the ground. No matter how desperately I tried, the cottage remained out of reach. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it—a movement that made my breath catch.

There it was, not even ten yards away—a large, midnight-black wolf with red eyes. The firelight cast a grotesque glow on its face, revealing a blood-stained muzzle. In its mouth was an arm, the ring on it gleaming malevolently. Anger surged within me, turning my vision red as I focused on the ring—a skull etched in fiery orange and yellow. Before I could stop myself, I was chanting a spell, my voice echoing through the forest. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled in response.

I jolted awake, my body trembling, gasping for breath. The dream was always the same, a recurring nightmare that never let me rest. At least this time, I hadn’t had to endure its full horror. The house was eerily silent, a haunting quiet that pressed against my ears. Shiloh hadn’t returned from her hunting trip and was probably curled up in the tree outside. The solitude was unnerving, so I forced myself out of bed and began preparing for the day.

My wardrobe consisted only of skirts and dresses, all sewn by my aunt. I’d become a proficient seamstress in my own right over the years. Unlike Aldara, who wore pants and used magic for her attire, I preferred the tactile pleasure of dressing myself. The chain locked to my leg made it impossible to wear anything without magical assistance, but I enjoyed the flowing fabrics. Today, I chose a yellow skirt, a color that felt like a small rebellion against the lingering shadows of my dream.

I ran my fingers over the rings displayed in my jewelry box, each one steeped in its own history. My gaze settled on one of my favorites—a large, clunky ring with an amber stone, its iron band painted gold. It had belonged to my great-great-aunt Heidi, a woman of sunshine and poetry, her magic fueled by the sun. I recalled her grimoire, filled with verses and peculiar tales written in the margins. Next to it, I touched the simple silver-painted iron band adorned with sapphires, a relic of Griselda, a blue jay gifted with telepathy.

My eyes then fell upon Aldara’s ring, and tears pricked at my eyes. Griselda had raised Aldara with a strictness that contrasted sharply with Aldara’s more nurturing nature. I remembered a story Aldara had shared about her ring—how she’d brought a decapitated bird to Griselda, sobbing over its fate. After much consolation, she’d given the bird a funeral, and the skull had become a ring. Aldara had sanded and filed it to fit her finger, and Griselda had charmed it to grow with her.

Slipping the ring onto my index finger, I then slid my own ring onto my right hand. Aldara had crafted it for me before my birth, bending and twisting gold into intricate patterns. The stones, collected from every corner of Bangtan, were engraved with coordinates that projected colorful numbers when exposed to sunlight. “I want you to remember the world when you can’t see it,” she’d told me. I had managed to find each spot just before her death.

Wiping away my tears, I laughed at my emotional display. Aldara would have scolded me for letting my emotions get the best of me. Though Bridd were seldom allowed to indulge in such feelings, I was human too, with thoughts and emotions that needed expression. I had learned that my vulnerability was my greatest strength, even if Aldara couldn’t see that. I heard voices and laughter in the distance and rushed to the living room, my rings forgotten.

The door to my cottage burst open, and the scent of wolves filled the air. In the lead were Namjoon and Hoseok, with Taehyung following close behind. I tensed as I saw a flash of white and my heart skipped. I hadn’t seen Jimin since our last meeting, and the uncertainty of our relationship lingered like a fog. Despite our late-night encounter, I assumed he was either too shy or too busy to visit. It was a relief to see him, confirming our standing, though the situation was far from ordinary.

An unfamiliar laugh echoed off the walls. I craned my neck and spotted Taehyung’s familiar posture. His humor was a stark contrast to his rigid stance. Jimin chuckled beside him, and I longed to share in their amusement.

“Good morning, Bridd,” Hoseok boomed, his smile radiant.

I returned his smile, the positivity contagious, amplified by Namjoon’s dimpled grin.

With a quick bow, I greeted them. “Morning. What can I do for you?”

Namjoon answered, “We’re familiarizing Taehyung with our duties. He might not visit often, but Jimin suggested bringing him along.”

“It’s good to know where to find you,” Hoseok added.

Taehyung, the youngest alpha, shyly peeked over their shoulders. His wide, nervous eyes betrayed his excitement and uncertainty. Speaking with someone so revered by the council must be daunting. Most pack members treated me as a friend, aside from the Elder Council, who saw themselves as superior. Taehyung’s hesitation was understandable.

Stumbling over his own feet, Taehyung managed to step forward. His eyes darted around nervously, and he licked his lips. Without warning, he bowed deeply. My eyes widened, and I took a step back in surprise. This was new.

“Hello, High Witch Bridd. I am Kim Taehyung, eldest son of the east Kim clan, one of the four alphas of Foxglove Village and protector of the Bangtan Forest.”

Taehyung straightened and reached out to me. His bow had shocked me, but nothing compared to the wet kiss he planted on my mouth. Someone gasped. I stood frozen, horror-stricken. Kisses between wolves were common but usually reserved for mates or pack members of high regard. As an outsider, this gesture was deeply inappropriate, a slight against both his pack and myself.

Taehyung beamed, oblivious to the breach of etiquette. His cluelessness was astounding. I glanced at Hoseok and Namjoon, both equally stunned. Behind them, a low growl caught my attention. Jimin’s face was a storm of darkened fury. His eyes, barely amber in the sunlight, were a blazing warning. Jimin’s anger was palpable, his hair bristling with tension. I knew this was a severe breach of protocol, damaging not only to my standing with Foxglove but to our relationship with the pack.

Without hesitation, Jimin was on Taehyung. He gripped the back of the young alpha’s neck, forcing him to his knees. A deep, resonant growl rumbled from Jimin’s chest, sending shivers down my spine. Even when his anger wasn’t directed at me, my bird’s instincts screamed for escape. My heart raced, mirroring Taehyung’s panic. I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of shock and pity. Taehyung hadn’t meant any harm.

“Apologize. Now.” Jimin’s voice cut through the air, cold and unyielding as iron, his hand still clamped around Taehyung’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung’s voice was a pitiful whine, all pretense of bravado stripped away.

“That’s it?” Namjoon’s voice cracked like a whip. “You think a sorry is going to fix this?”

“You’re sorry?” Hoseok’s tone was hard as granite. “Is that really the best you can muster?”

Jimin’s snarl was feral, “Apologize properly.”

“I-I-”

“Enough!” I shouted, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and frustration. “Just let him go. Please?”

Taehyung scrambled to his feet, Jimin stepping back reluctantly. I was surprised and oddly relieved that Jimin obeyed without a fight. My eyes stayed locked on Taehyung, who now resembled a puppy that had just been caught making a mess. His youth and naivety struck me with a pang of sympathy. At eighteen, he was still a child, thrust into a world that chewed up and spit out the unprepared. The notion of him having to grovel and kiss countless others before me made my heart ache. I wished I could erase his discomfort, to make this moment one of light-hearted learning rather than humiliation.

“I’m sorry if I—” Taehyung started.

“Hush,” I cut him off, and he snapped his mouth shut, looking like he’d been caught in a snare. “I understand you acted on what you thought was right. You see me as more important than I really am, don’t you, Taehyung?”

He nodded, and I caught a sound of disapproval from Jimin. I almost smiled. Jimin had a high opinion of me, and that was a comfort.

“I’m honored you see me as worthy of such deference, but I’m just a woman. And a woman who doesn’t kiss anyone—ever. Are you following?”

He nodded again, his ears flushing red, like a boy who wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He had so much to learn.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up my cheeks. “Why did you think that was a good idea?”

“I didn’t know what to do or say!” Taehyung floundered, his hands flapping in desperation. “Everyone kept telling me how important this was, how honored I should feel, and all that!”

Unable to keep it in any longer, I burst into giggles. The alphas stared at me, confusion etched into their faces, but I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from my chest. I clutched my stomach and danced around the kitchen in search of a particular item. Kim Taehyung had earned a present for his earnest attempt at honor.

I had a tradition of gifting alphas on our first meeting. Hoseok had received a Lapis Lazuli bracelet, a talisman of friendship and warmth. Namjoon had been given a hand-bound notebook, a token for his tales and memories. I’d even gifted Jimin my favorite book at the time. It had been so long, I couldn’t recall its name, but I remembered his mention of wanting an escape and hoped it had provided some solace. Now it was Taehyung’s turn, and I needed to find just the right gift.

“Bridd?” Taehyung’s voice trembled with uncertainty.

“Aha!” I exclaimed, spotting the stone on a high cupboard shelf.

I retrieved the spherical carnelian, a semi-precious stone I’d found years ago in the forest. Aldara had been both shocked and thrilled when I’d brought it to her. It symbolized courage, a fitting gift for Taehyung, who would need plenty of it in the days to come. I polished it with care, admiring the vibrant red and the swirling orange and yellow patterns that danced in the sunlight.

“You must be the bravest man to ever step into my shop,” I said, handing him the stone with a grin. “This is for you. It’ll give you courage and strength when you need it most.”

“A...rock?” Taehyung’s brow furrowed as he examined the sphere, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.

Jimin growled, a low, warning rumble, but I waved him off. There was no need for any more tension; this was just a misunderstanding. I handed the stone back to Taehyung, and he seemed to warm to it, holding it up to the light and marveling at its beauty.

“Ask someone in town if they can turn it into a necklace for you. If not, I can. This stone has healing properties.”

Hoseok peered at the stone and smiled, his Lapis Lazuli bracelet glittering in the sunlight. I remembered how he’d never taken it off since I’d given it to him, a sign of our enduring friendship. Taehyung’s acceptance of the gift filled me with hope that we might forge a similar bond.

Taehyung returned the stone to me, his voice tinged with regret. “No one in town would know how to bead this without ruining it.”

I laughed, “I can’t promise I won’t mess it up, but if you insist, I’d be happy to do it myself.”

Namjoon’s hearty laugh rang out, and he clapped Taehyung on the shoulder with good humor. “You’ve made quite an impression, cousin.”

Jimin’s gaze remained wary, but I quickly turned my attention away from him. The sound of familiar laughter reached my ears, and I felt a warm glow in my chest. It had been too long since Yoongi and Seokjin had been in my home together.

Jin, Yoongi, and Wendy were my closest friends. Their tangled history was like a web I had avoided for years. Jin’s feelings for Wendy and her flirtations with Yoongi had caused a rift, but now they were mending fences. I was glad to see them trying to repair their friendship, and Wendy’s absence was a small price to pay for harmony.

“It seems I have other guests,” I said, setting the stone down and lighting the stove. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’m making tea.”

Seokjin’s exuberant laugh echoed through the doorway as he burst in, his usual over-the-top enthusiasm followed by Yoongi’s grumbled protest. I set the kettle on the fire and gathered ingredients for everyone’s preferred brew. The wolves and I would have plain black tea, but the witches’ cups required a little extra care.

Seokjin’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, and I shook my head with a smile. The kettle whistled, and I quickly removed it from the heat, readying the tea.

“Good morning, darling!” Seokjin’s voice was a cheerful blast.

“Dear God, why are you shouting?” Yoongi grumbled, rubbing his ears.

Seokjin’s eyes widened in delight. “Wolves! How are you all?”

Both alphas bowed in greeting, and I smiled as they settled into my oversized table. Seokjin used magic to bring my reading chair into the kitchen area, while Yoongi took a seat on the floor. The kettle hissed and I poured the tea, adding the special touches each guest preferred.

“Good morning,” I said softly, preparing their cups.

Yoongi’s murmured thanks was warm, and I returned his smile. I preferred my given name over the title of ‘Bridd,’ a word that once symbolized respect but now felt like a barrier. The wolves and animal shifters of old had called Rosette ‘Bridd,’ but tradition alone couldn’t bridge the distance between me and my true self.

The revelation of my real name didn’t usually bother me much, but with the wolves in the room, it was a different story. Their reactions were a variable I couldn’t predict. Nobody else in their village knew my first name, and I intended to keep it that way. I didn’t trust their Elders, not one bit. They were as slippery as eels, driven by greed and a hunger for power. Ahn was the sort who’d make deals with the ielfen for eternal life or whatever twisted desire gripped his heart.

Aldara used to curse the ielfen with a bitterness that could sour milk. “Manipulative, greedy little minxes,” she’d growl, her eyes narrowed into slits as she stirred her cauldron.

I’d never tangled with one myself, so I couldn’t say for certain, but Aldara’s word was gospel to me. She’d battled beasts that roamed the wilds of Bangtan, and if she claimed she’d stared down an ielfen and walked away with her skin intact, I had no reason to doubt her. I took a deep breath and decided to deal with any fallout if it came. If Ahn was foolish enough to engage with an ielfen without understanding their rules, then he was digging his own grave.

“What did he call you?” Namjoon’s question cut through my thoughts.

“Y/N,” I chuckled, though the laughter felt hollow, my insides chilled. “It’s the name Aldara gave me. She hardly ever used it unless she was angry, but I had my share of nicknames too.”

“Remember Bibbles?” Seokjin chimed in. “Mama Min still calls you that.”

“Who’s Aldara?” Hoseok asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“The previous Bridd,” Yoongi explained, cutting through Jin’s antics with an edge of irritation.

“You have names?” Taehyung’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Like real names?”

“Of course they have real names,” Seokjin retorted, “They’re people, after all.”

I gritted my teeth, irritated by Jin’s jabs at the alphas. He had no real issues with them but had absorbed some of my disdain for Ahn. I shot a nervous glance at the wolves. They seemed more amused by Jin’s behavior than offended, which was a relief.

“Yes, we had names before this,” I forced a smile, my gaze sharp as I shot Jin a warning look. “Bridd was a nickname for the original shifter. Your people have kept it alive for tradition. It’s not offensive, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Wow, cool,” Taehyung sipped his tea, the lightness in his voice a stark contrast to the seriousness of the topic.

Taehyung was a breath of fresh air amidst the tension. His carefree demeanor was a stark contrast to the other alphas, and I pondered the possibility of him becoming a pack leader. Sol would likely enjoy his company—his humor and optimistic outlook were a nice break from the usual grind. But I could see potential friction within the council. His easygoing nature might not sit well with Ahn. My gaze drifted to Jimin, the embodiment of the perfect alpha. The thought of him with Sol was unsettling, a bitter taste in my mouth.

“I hear your Luna will be of age soon,” Yoongi said casually, casting a sidelong glance at Jin before turning his attention to me. His smirk was infuriating. “Her birthday, I assume?”

“She turns 18 at the end of this month,” Namjoon’s voice held a stiffness, as if every word was carefully measured. “She will be of age.”

In my eyes, Sol and Namjoon were mismatched. While they got along, Sol had a softer spot for the white-haired man beside her. They grew up together, and their bond was evident. Namjoon was the heart of Bangtan, while Park Jimin was the heartbeat of the pack. I wasn’t sure how Sol would react if anyone else was chosen, nor how I’d handle Jimin being selected. I glanced back at Taehyung, hoping he’d be the one Sol would pick.

“Little young for you, wouldn’t you say?” Seokjin’s mischievous grin made my stomach churn. “Or do your people not mind those age gaps?”

My face flushed, and I quickly looked away. Seokjin had always been perceptive about my feelings for Jimin, more so than anyone else. His probing was a tad too personal for my taste. I had to control my temper.

“Their age gap won’t matter if they’re meant to be together,” I managed to say, my voice a flat monotone. “Ten years is inconsequential to the Gods. You should know that.”

My gaze drifted back to Jimin. He looked good today, his hair in a loose bun, clothes casual but fitting well. His skin was faintly flushed from the sun. A small scratch marred his eyebrow, and it bothered me. I couldn’t fathom who might have done that. Namjoon was too clumsy, Hoseok and the others too slow.

I looked at Taehyung, but quickly dismissed the idea. The boy couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone Jimin. With unanswered questions gnawing at me, I rose to prepare another round of tea. Plain black tea and sugar would suffice. I wasn’t about to go all out on a regular day, though perhaps for Yule, I’d be convinced to put in more effort. The cut on Jimin’s eyebrow remained a troubling distraction.

“Êow rôðres earfoðlic ætstillan,” Seokjin’s words echoed as he piped up, no surprise there.

I rolled my eyes and turned the flame back on, boiling more water.

“I just noticed a cut on Alpha Jimin’s face and was curious,” I joked, trying to keep my tone light and casual despite the growing tension.

A small ‘oh’ was the only response from Jimin. It was the first time he had spoken since their arrival. I poured the tea and took care of the salve I’d made for situations just like this. I was relieved to see Jimin’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. He looked cute, though it only added to my turmoil. His shyness was endearing, and I couldn’t help but wonder how far that blush extended. I tried to shove those thoughts away.

As I applied the salve to his cut, the room around us erupted into chaos. The men were laughing and shouting, and despite the noise, the quiet focus between Jimin and me felt almost intimate. I applied the salve carefully, trying not to let my emotions overwhelm me. Jimin’s breathing was shallow, his eyes fixed on the side of my face. The warmth of his breath made it hard to concentrate, and I found myself lingering longer than necessary on his skin. The cottage trembled with Hoseok’s laughter.

“At least I have a mate, Namjoon,” Hoseok’s voice boomed, full of mirth.

“And I’ll be the Luna’s,” Namjoon shot back with a cocky grin.

I disagreed silently. Jimin was destined to be the Foxglove Alpha, no matter what anyone said. Taehyung was kind but too inexperienced, and Namjoon was a poor match for Sol. The Gods would think twice before allowing that union. Seokjin’s comment about age rang true in my mind. Sol and Namjoon had nothing in common, while Jimin was her closest friend. I applied more pressure than necessary to Jimin’s neck, reciting a healing spell under my breath. When I finished, I pulled my hands away, feeling as though they’d been burned.

“Please,” Taehyung’s voice cut through, “We all know Jimin is the alpha.”

I retreated to the kitchen, searching for a distraction. The conversation had done nothing but stir my thoughts, and I needed something to take my mind off it. As the arguing resumed, I decided on baking rose and cardamom shortbread cookies. It was a familiar task that might bring me some comfort. Yoongi joined me, handing me ingredients with his usual efficiency.

“Êow d hnot pîslic these lâstlange under,” Yoongi commented, his voice gentle.

I shrugged, rolling out the dough and handing him my cookie cutter. He enjoyed this part, and I was happy to indulge him. I turned on the stove, greased a cookie sheet, and placed the dough on it.

“Normally I’d chill the dough, but not today,” I said as he cut out more shapes. “They might be a bit different in texture.”

“Who cares?” I laughed, hearing Jin’s outburst. “Shortbread is always delicious.”

The cookies turned out fine—perhaps not the best, but good enough. The wolves ate them without complaint, and Hoseok even asked for the recipe. They stayed long after sunset, long after my friends had left. Their company was pleasant, their laughter a welcome backdrop to my own restless thoughts. As twilight approached, I finally asked them to leave. Taehyung stood, grateful for the extended visit.

“Thank you for letting us stay so long,” he said, his voice sincere.

I patted his head gently. “Anytime, pup.”

He scowled, folding his arms like a petulant child. Hoseok’s laughter rang out, and he gave me a theatrical bow, which I returned with equal flourish. Namjoon and Jimin followed suit, though Taehyung, ever the reluctant participant, finally bowed with a grimace that made me chuckle. His frown deepened, which only made me laugh harder.

“Lighten up,” Hoseok said, draping an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders. “See you in a few weeks, Bridd.”

“See you then,” I replied with forced cheerfulness.

The men shuffled out, with Jimin bowing one last time before closing the door behind him. His troubled expression lingered in my mind, and I hoped whatever was gnawing at him would resolve itself. The thought of him being in pain or distress was unsettling. I watched him walk away, feeling an unspoken sadness as the door clicked shut behind him.

A quiet knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. I grabbed a large knife from the mantle, my pulse quickening. Late-night visitors were rare and unwelcome. I kept my eyes on the door, my senses straining. Last time we had an unexpected guest at this hour, it ended in tragedy. I enchanted one of my winter gloves, instructing it to peek outside the window and assess the situation.

Memories of screams and red eyes flashed in my mind, and I fought back tears. The blood, the terror... The glove gave a reassuring thumbs-up. I mouthed, “Who is it?” The glove’s answer in sign language was a relief: Jimin had apparently forgotten something. Dropping the knife onto the dining table, I swung the door open.

“Did you forget something?” I asked, picking up the glove from the windowsill.

I tucked the purple fabric into my coat pocket, patting its thumb. It held onto my hand, clearly enjoying the attention. Jimin stood in the foyer, looking at me with a mix of awe and curiosity. I wasn’t surprised; my unorthodox creations often drew stares. I noticed the glove growing lazy and quickly stuffed a handkerchief into it. The glove tugged at the cloth before settling into a contented sleep. The magic would wear off soon.

I looked at Jimin, waiting for him to speak.

“Oh,” he said, startled. “Right.” He cleared his throat and smoothed his hair. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” I raised an eyebrow, drifting back to my comfy chair. “For what?”

“For the nice things you said earlier,” he clarified.

“Well,” I said, plopping down, “I was just speaking the truth.”

“Still, it means a lot, coming from you.”

I glanced out the window. Time was running short. I wasn’t afraid of Jimin seeing me transform; I trusted him. His cold exterior had always belied a warm heart. The thought of him with someone else twisted in my gut. The very idea made me sick.

Swallowing hard, I replied, “You think too highly of me.”

“And you don’t think highly enough of yourself.”

His words made me pause. I looked at him, surprised by his expression. I had never seen Park Jimin look so vulnerable. His shoulders were slumped, his eyebrows knit together in concern. His usually straight posture was now slightly bent, one leg nervously tapping the floor. I was caught off guard, feeling as if I was on unfamiliar ground.

“I-” he began.

The familiar icy sensation ran up my leg, and I scrambled up from my chair.

“I’m so sorry!” I shouted as ice crept quickly through me.

The world expanded, and I cried out in pain as feathers began to burst from my skin. Jimin stepped back, colliding with the dining table. Shame and guilt crashed over me. Seeing Bridd’s transformation had been horrifying enough; I knew how terrifying it could be. More feathers ripped through my skin, blood staining the floor.

“Leave!” I cawed, my voice a harsh croak.

Pain engulfed me as I fell to my knees, my beak breaking through the skin. Transformation never got easier. Aldara had once said it was the only true pain a Bridd could feel, and I would argue she was wrong. Flashes of fire blurred my vision as I fell, a loud caw echoing through the room.

When I awoke, my dress was draped over me. I had to navigate my way out of the fabric, using my beak to cut through the layers. I could hear Jimin’s anxious breathing. I pushed through the mess, finally finding a breach and squeezing out.

Jimin was leaning against the table, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. I felt a pang of guilt. No one should witness such a transformation. I hopped closer, hoping he might be receptive to me despite the horror he had just seen.

In the distance, I heard an owl hooting. Shiloh would be here soon. She had become more independent recently, and I felt guilty for keeping her cooped up all day. We had planned to forage together tonight. After exchanging a few deep, gruff croaks, I turned my attention back to Jimin.

He looked less petrified than before, which was a good sign. Unsure of how to proceed, I decided to try and make myself cute. I thought rolling around on the blood-stained floor might distract him, though it felt futile. I remembered the first time I’d seen Aldara transform and winced. Nevertheless, I pressed on, determined.

I sat prettily on the floor and stared at him, trying to be comforting. My anxiety was manageable, so I moved forward with my plan. Still unsatisfied with his confused blinking, I flapped over to the table beside him. The proximity was both terrifying and comforting. I could not speak or laugh, but at least I could be near him.

Earlier, we had been closer than ever since his blessing ceremony. Why was I so cozy with him now? The fact that I couldn’t speak or mess up was strangely reassuring. I basked in his warmth, leaning onto his side and clicking to show my comfort. I began to sing, a throaty, hollow sound.

The melody was gentle, a warble Aldara had once called “a sign of intimacy.” I snuggled into his arm, eyes closed. Aldara had once told me ravens sing only for their most intimate loved ones.

“Mates sing to one another,” she had whispered, playing with my hair when I was a child.

As I sang, I waited for Shiloh to arrive so we could find a new stone.

“Hey Y/N,” Shiloh’s booming voice interrupted the quiet. “Are you ready to forage?”

Startled, I let out an angry squawk and flew to the windowsill, yelling at her impatience. Shiloh laughed and urged me to hurry. Patto had gathered our friends at Morla’s for forest gossip. After today, I was sure we’d be the topic of their nocturnal chatter.

“Bridd,” Jimin said as Shiloh flew away.

I looked at him. He understood what it meant.

“Can I trust you to keep a secret?”

I flew back to his side, wanting to close up the shop properly, but magic was beyond me in this form. Jimin offered his arm, and I perched contentedly.

“To be honest,” he began, sitting at the table, “I don’t want to be the alpha.”

I cocked my head, a silent question passing between us.

“I enjoy Sol as a person,” he continued, “and yes, she’s beautiful, but-”

He paused, looking at me with a helpless expression. My heart ached for him. The weight of responsibility, the burden of destiny—it was overwhelming. Even if Aldara had been present on my 16th birthday, I don’t think I would have been prepared. Jimin had an entire pack relying on him, and to not want any of it was heartbreaking.

“But she is not who I want to choose,” he finished.

I began to warble gently again, preening his silver hair. I hoped it was comforting. I thought of Sol—her dark skin, her freckled beauty. It was hard to imagine her in any way but perfect. The idea of her with Jimin twisted in my mind.

Jimin’s confession was a relief, though it was tinged with sadness. I continued to sing softly, hoping to offer some comfort.

Yet Jimin didn’t want her. He didn’t want to choose her. But as I dragged my beak gently through his hair, a sinking realization settled in my chest: no one truly chooses their mate. The goddess would have the final say in Jimin’s future. Both of us knew it well. And agonizing over it was a futile exercise. In the end, if they were destined to be mates, he’d laugh at this whole conversation. She’d be perfect then—so perfect he’d wish he could strangle himself for ever doubting it. Wolf bonds were like that.

Ravens mate for life, too, but their bond is built on trust and affection. A wolf’s mating bond, though, runs much deeper. It’s a primal connection that binds two souls completely. Once their scents mingle, nothing on Earth can keep them apart. It’s not like the soft, innocent affection of ravens, which burns through loyalty. No, this kind of love is a roaring blaze, unstoppable and all-consuming.

Not Jimin’s pre-ceremonial rejection. Not Kim Namjoon’s cocky bravado. Not even my own shattered heart if I had to watch it unfold. It’s a pure, unaltered rush that they’d never come down from. Deciding I was done, I backed away from Jimin and nuzzled his forehead with my beak, trying to offer comfort. He responded with a tight-lipped smile.

“Can I tell you something else?”

I turned my head bashfully but nodded.

“You’ve been very kind to me—” he said, stretching his arms wide. “—and I told you this because I felt like I owed you.”

Alarm surged through me. I squawked in frustration, but realized he couldn’t understand. My curse made communication a cruel joke. I wanted to reach out, to beg him for clarity, but my voice was trapped. Jimin seemed to notice my agitation.

“Thank you for helping me the other day,” he said.

I racked my brain, trying to recall what he meant. All I’d done was bring him tea and medicine. What else could there be? I hadn’t left my cottage since Taehyung’s ceremony, save for Jimin’s visit. Oh. Oh…

Jimin was my little wolf. He was the one who’d brought me the lantern. The realization touched and embarrassed me. He’d come back to express his appreciation. No wonder he was so stubborn about shifting back into a human—Jimin was supposed to be the strongest wolf in Foxglove. As much as I wished we could discuss this further, or that I could offer reassurance, I knew it would have to wait. For now, I’d let him know I wasn’t upset about his secrecy.

I flitted around his head, performing a few somersaults for good measure. Jimin laughed heartily as he left, and I felt a thrill at having finally made him smile. I savored the moment—his tousled hair, his flushed cheeks, that wide, toothy grin that lit up his entire face. I had never seen his dimple before, and I knew I wanted to preserve this memory forever.

“I have to get back to the others,” he said with a giggle, bowing. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Goodnight, Jimin, I replied silently. As he walked away, I took to the air, heading toward the spot Shiloh had mentioned. Even as I joined my friends and laughed, all I could see was the way Jimin’s eyes crinkled into crescent moons when he smiled.

Back at my altar, I breathed evenly, eyes closed. I had spent the better part of the afternoon praying and meditating, preparing for the energy I’d need for tonight’s ritual. The gods' support was crucial for a successful mating ceremony. When I opened my eyes, I glanced at the grimoire in my lap, sighing. Sol’s presentation tonight would reveal the pack’s new head alpha. My heart clenched, but I pushed through the discomfort, focusing on the text.

Each Bridd kept meticulous records of their spells and ceremonies, and Jordana’s writings had been invaluable. I absorbed her step-by-step instructions for the ritual, paying special attention to the parts where I was to exit the circle promptly. This would be my first time aiding a Luna in her mating ritual, and I was grateful for her guidance.

The cottage was silent. Shiloh was asleep, and none of my friends had visited. While I appreciated the solitude—it helped me stay focused—the emptiness was stifling. My mind wandered too often, becoming a distraction. I was glad Jimin and I were writing letters to each other now. He said he valued the privacy my mind provided, and I just liked him. Today, however, we hadn’t spoken. We were both too preoccupied with preparations for the night.

A few days ago, I’d stopped pretending my feelings weren’t hurt. I was already mourning Jimin before anything was decided. My adoration and love for him made it physically impossible to feel happy for him or anyone else. That letter had only deepened my sorrow. Now, with only hours remaining, I was sick with worry, selfishly hoping Namjoon would be chosen instead. If I couldn’t have Jimin, I didn’t want him with anyone else. As new tears welled up, I wiped them away roughly and closed the grimoire with a decisive snap.

I stood, surveying my home with desperation. I was tired of sewing—bored of it after a week of endless stitches. Wood carving could be fun but also exhausting. The same went for blacksmithing. I didn’t want to disturb Shiloh; she needed her rest. My gaze landed on the large red carpet in the living room.

Slowly, I sank to my hands and knees and lifted the only corner not weighed down by furniture. The black cast-iron handle of the basement door stared back at me, along with the bear carvings I’d painstakingly etched into the wood years ago. I traced the fading lines with my finger, sighing deeply. I’d carved something similar before the fire. Aldara had been furious when she discovered my handiwork, but it took her mere minutes to join me in the endeavor. For months after she was gone, I’d stared at the empty floor, feeling the weight of my loneliness. In a desperate bid for relief, I had started carving bears again—only managed three before I broke down in tears. I never tried it again.

Feeling a spark of inspiration, I drew a knife from my belt and began carving once more. My hands moved with ease, the lines straight and confident. Unlike my old drawings, these would never fade. Before I knew it, I had carved a wolf’s head and groaned in frustration. This wasn’t working. I sheathed the little knife and lifted the basement door. With a flick of my wrist, the scattered furniture rearranged itself into its proper places.

Looking back at the door, my heart ached at the sight of the violent gouges I’d inflicted on the wood. It was days after the fire, and I’d locked myself in the basement, the only refuge left. Yoongi, Seokjin, and Wendy had come to help, alongside their families. After treating them horribly, I had locked myself away, destroying many of the treasures from my childhood. The door had almost been a casualty, but it remained. Aldara had drawn a fox playing with butterflies, overshadowing my simple bears below.

“Egnis,” I whispered, and a tiny flame sparked from my index finger.

Using the small ladder attached to the floor, I descended into the dark room. The flame flickered aimlessly, its energy depleted. I recalled a time when my magic danced and sang with vibrant life, and the memory saddened me. Once I reached the bottom, I reached out and stroked the flame. It flinched but then grew larger. I squared my shoulders and focused.

“Leohtielfent.”

The flame exploded, branching out in all directions. Candle holders on the walls ignited brilliantly. The flames flickered and danced, their movements once more lively. A memory of Yule years past came to mind, and the sadness returned. Back then, my flames performed acrobatic feats, competing for my attention. Now they were as mundane as Aldara’s had been. She was right—magic had become more serious than fun.

This room housed all the grimoires and books of Bridd’s past. It was the reason it had survived the fire. Eight hundred years ago, Jordana had cast a powerful protection spell. None of the other Bridd could decipher how she did it or how to reverse it. I had tried to figure it out at ten but quickly gave up. If Aneesa, the 4th Bridd and a genius, couldn’t unravel the mystery, I doubted anyone ever would.

I walked over to the large bookshelves, running my fingers along the spines. Even with all the knowledge in the world at my fingertips, I felt clueless. What do you do when what you want is unattainable? Pine away uselessly or pretend you’re over it? Cry alone or seek out someone who understands?

Aldara would have advised finding a middle ground. But what middle ground exists in this situation, especially knowing Jimin doesn’t want to be Sol’s mate? That thought alone sent a shiver through me, and I felt a surge of shame.

“Be patient,” a voice whispered in the quiet room.

I smiled sadly. The spirit’s presence was comforting, though I couldn’t quite make out who it was today. It was easier to discern if I let them in, but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I had a ceremony to attend in a few hours. The spirit’s fingers brushed through my hair.

“All will reveal itself in time.”

I swallowed hard. “And if it’s what I fear?”

“You will survive it, little one,” the spirit replied warmly. It had to be Heidi, and the thought made my tears well. As much as I appreciated her reassurance, I longed for my aunt. Aldara always knew exactly what to say. A choked sob escaped me. “You are brave and strong. You have nothing to fear.”

But I had everything to fear. Watching Sol approach Jimin, blindfolded and kneeling as he held her protectively—it would be unbearable. Seeing the man I loved so desperately, irrevocably entwined with someone else, seemed impossible to endure. I felt the gentle brush of fingers on the back of my neck.

“I’m afraid,” I whispered.

“That’s what makes you brave,” the spirit replied.

Drawing a breath, I nodded. Aldara’s words provided comfort, but unease still gnawed at me. I knew I needed to study more. So, I sat on the floor, trying to clear my mind.

“Flotian,” I commanded, and a book flew straight into my outstretched hand.

I decided to walk to the village tonight. The memory of the first time I saw Jimin had been haunting me. I wanted to retrace our steps. We were both so young then—no more than thirteen. I had been possessed during Yule, and he’d walked me home after his brother found me in the forest. I wondered if he remembered it as vividly as I did or if he’d buried it away for a rainy day. I smiled sadly when I spotted a rogue ielfen circle. I had been so afraid of the ielfen back then.

The night was quiet. Shiloh had gone off with Patto to get good seats for the ceremony. Morla was already there, and the rest of the gossipers were likely chatting away. Seokjin was already asleep, and Yoongi, though indifferent to pack affairs, would stay up in case I needed him. I reached into my cloak pocket and felt the letter.

Wendy had written to me before I left, and I hadn’t had a chance to read it. It had been too long since I’d seen my friend. We wrote often, though not as frequently as I’d like. She was a busy witch, traveling to Northorn with her younger sister, Nixie, who was meeting a possible suitor.

Wendy had stopped visiting after a particularly nasty argument with Seokjin. I didn’t know the details, but from what Patto shared, jealousy and Yoongi were involved. Seokjin was hopelessly in love with Wendy, and I knew she felt the same, but the kitchen witch was an obstacle. They hadn’t spoken since, and I assumed they’d ended their relationship.

I heard rustling in nearby bushes and paused, scanning the area. Ready for a fight, I walked slowly. But nothing emerged. After five minutes of waiting, I grew bored and resumed my normal pace. The bushes remained still.

The walls of Bangtan loomed like the unyielding ramparts of some ancient fortress, their stone battlements cold and unapproachable, daring any who might consider breaching them. Just outside, a humble farm lay, the green fields stretching out like a patchwork quilt under the waning daylight. A human family toiled there, unknown and nameless to me but whispered to be kindly souls who welcomed travelers with open arms. Most humans, especially those from the north, eyed wolves with a wary, suspicious glare.

On the other side of those impregnable walls, a gentle stream meandered its way back to the ocean, the bridge leading to the ceremonial cave standing like a solitary sentinel. The town beyond was quaint, a postcard of pastoral charm. The church perched on the hillside was enveloped by the embrace of ancient trees, while the market bustled in the heart of town, surrounded by homes and businesses. The copiae, steadfast and resolute, nestled beside the stream, a small but mighty entity, and I adored it.

Tonight, the streets lay empty, a ghostly silence hanging in the air. Everyone was either ensconced in the cave or barricaded in their homes, leaving the town eerily still. The moon’s energy pulsed through me, a tangible force that foretold the grueling path ahead. Even if Sol chose not Jimin, the toll this night would exact on me was not to be underestimated. My prayers mingled with the night air, asking for the Gods to grant me Jimin, to ensure his recovery, and to bestow Sol a lifetime of happiness, as she so richly deserved.

The cave was a cavern of silence, despite the throngs within. The unmated wolves stood in orderly rows, awaiting the moon’s cue. I moved forward, preparing for the ceremony with the meticulous precision born of experience.

As always, I began by cutting my hair and changing my clothes. Tonight, the body paint would be different, a ritual transformation guided by Jordana’s grimoire. I had to embrace my feminine essence, which called for delicate, white lines.

I began by tracing two large circles around my eyes. With a puddle of water as my mirror, I let the lines cascade downward, creating a shape that cast a melancholic shadow across my face. I refined the lines, drawing them to meet at my jawline, and then added curved, moth-like wings that gave me a fleeting sense of satisfaction, reminiscent of the Grand Witch’s designs.

I adorned my face with crushed pearls, an optional but favored touch that promised some relief from the inevitable pain. With the altar set and the moon’s position noted, I performed a quick cleansing spell to ward off bad luck and signaled the ceremony’s commencement.

As I maneuvered around the alphas, creating a protective circle, Sol was escorted in, blindfolded and naked. Her dark, freckled skin and exposed hair were a sight both vulnerable and poignant. I averted my gaze as much as possible, granting her what privacy I could, though the sheer weight of the moment was impossible to ignore.

Chief Ahn, with a tenderness born of past affection, led Sol to the center of the circle. I glanced up at the moon through the cave’s opening. It was time. I stepped away from the circle’s edge, ensuring no one was too close, for fear of confusing or agitating Sol, or provoking a defensive reaction from her or her mate.

Watching from a safe distance, my gaze fell upon Jimin. His demeanor was one of resignation, his eyes fixed ahead, betraying a hint of nerves. I felt a sting of sorrow but fought to maintain composure. Now was not the time for tears.

I focused on the ceremony’s unfolding drama. Sol’s sudden, agonized cry and the sight of her crawling toward her mate brought a pang of desperation. Jimin’s eyes met mine in an unexpected lock. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to pause. He looked at me with a raw, unmasked fear, an echo of our last conversation, where he had wrestled with his feelings of inadequacy and guilt.

Then came the gasp, the collective shock rippling through the crowd as Sol collapsed, her form draped over Taehyung’s legs. The astonishment in the air was palpable. Taehyung, his hands gently exploring Sol’s hair—something unseen until now—was the image of awe.

I cleared my throat and began to sing, a spell-charm woven into a song. As I sang, I felt the searing pain of my wings manifesting, each feather falling into a pool of my own blood. The process was agonizing, more so than any blood ritual I’d endured. My strength waned, but I placed two of my feathers on the altar with trembling hands.

The feathers, now pristine and white, floated gently to the altar. Taehyung’s reaction was mixed with discomfort, while Sol clung to him, seemingly impervious to the tumult around her. Chief Ahn’s look of fury was enough to set my nerves on edge, but I remained focused, hoping the others could temper his wrath.

“Nam initiis novis,” I choked out, my voice strained, delivering the feathers with magic as my accent thickened. I then cast a spell to dissolve the salt circle, finishing with, “Mêowle hîe l¯ædan êow frêod nâðýl¯æs lufen.”

With the ceremony concluded, the crowd’s discontent was audible, a cacophony of disbelief. I allowed myself a moment of rest, but Taehyung’s concern for my well-being was met with a firm dismissal. I had to gather my things, ignoring his protests.

“I will do this,” Jimin said, voice hard and seemingly coming from nowhere. “Lay down.”

“But-” I protested.

Jimin, his concern evident, took my hand, urging me to rest. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope that, now unburdened, Jimin might still belong to me in some intangible way. As he packed my belongings with careful precision, the townsfolk departed, their anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Need a hand?” Namjoon’s voice cut through the dim light.

“No,” Jimin muttered, and Namjoon, after a brief pause, turned and vanished into the shadows.

Jimin moved with a swiftness that belied the weight of my belongings, scooping me up into his arms with an ease that spoke of his strength. I was a mere feather to him, but I winced at the thought of my blood staining his robes—expensive and painstakingly crafted. Yet he seemed oblivious to the potential damage, holding me close against his chest with a fierce protectiveness.

“You can’t go pulling stunts like that again,” he chided once we were clear of the village’s borders.

“Do what?” I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper.

“That feather trick. You look like you’re at death’s door.”

I managed a soft hum, “Sorry if I scared you.”

Jimin’s sigh was a deep, rumbling sound of forgiveness. “I forgive you.”

The walk back felt shorter, the familiar path seemingly imbued with a comforting sense of déjà vu from that snowy night. I couldn’t help but chuckle, and Jimin’s gaze softened, a grin stretching across his face that I was determined to imprint in my memory.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

I giggled, “Do you remember the Yule we first met?”

His smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes and revealing a slightly crooked front tooth. It was a sight that could melt any frost. “Of course,” he said, his tone warm. “I still favor that path. Can’t deny, it’s the best one.”

I sighed with contentment. “Except for the thorns, but it looks like someone took care of those.”

The trail, once choked with vicious thickets that sliced and jabbed at any unwary traveler, was now clear. Jimin, his cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness, shrugged.

“I took care of it once I started my rounds. Dodging mushroom circles is a challenge when you’re built like a tree.”

I snickered. “I can only imagine.”

Despite the shock of Taehyung’s unexpected rise to alpha, the sight of Sol on his back had eclipsed any lingering surprise. Exhaustion was beginning to pull at my edges, and I knew the reality would settle in come morning.

“I’m glad,” I murmured, “that you got what you wanted.”

Jimin’s eyes stayed fixed on the path ahead. “So am I.”

When we reached home, Shiloh was a whirlwind of concern, fussing over me with an intensity that bordered on the overwhelming. Jimin had assured her, as had I, that I was fine, but the owl’s persistent nagging was a test of patience. Jimin, ever composed, requested pen and paper to write to one of my friends.

Shiloh took care of that while I rested in bed, and though I was touched by Jimin’s gesture, it wasn’t surprising. He had never once left me to navigate such moments alone. I heard the flap of Shiloh’s wings as she departed, likely heading to Yoongi’s place.

“Thank you,” I called out, my voice already fading as sleep overtook me.

Jimin, standing in the doorway, offered a soft smile. He settled on the edge of my bed, his gaze gentle as I struggled to keep my eyes open.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.

“Drohtian hnot drîfan,” I mumbled, stifling a yawn. “Yoongi will help me.”

Jimin’s hum was a comforting sound, and I fought to keep my eyes from closing. He chuckled softly, a tender sound that seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket.

“I wish I understood everything you say,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against my cheek. “Get some rest. Your friend will be here soon.”

I smiled, letting my eyes drift shut. “I’ll stay with you until then,” he added.

I nodded, and as my hands brushed the note from Wendy, I sighed in resignation. It would have to wait until morning. The exhaustion finally claimed me, and I drifted into a deep, restful sleep.

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus

P.S. For future reference, I did change Hyun-Jin’s name to Enver. I thought it would fit better since Thelma was naming him, and since it means luminous, I thought it rather fitting. I have always believed he was the light in Thelma’s rather lonely life. Hope you like the wolves and witches having different languages. I thought it would make sense since the wolves came from a different country and would not speak Lustrian at all. We’ll dive into that later.

Translations: Ielfen - FairyÊow rôðres earfoðlic ætstillan. - You are very quiet. Êow d hnot pîslic these lâstlange under. - You have not made these in a while. Yonder forerynel êow? - Where are you? Nam initiis novis. - For your new beginnings. Mêowle hîe l¯ædan êow frêod nâðýl¯æs lufen. - May they bring you hope and peace. Drohtian hnot drîfan. - Do not worry.

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yoongiteas · 5 years ago

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These words they are stones in the water running away These skeletal lines they are desperate arms for my longing and love. I am a stranger learning to worship the strangers around me whoever you are whoever I may become.

- June Jordan, These Poems

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jvngkook97 · 3 years ago

Text

I Love You 3000 II

pairing; idol!jungkook x non-idol!reader

genre; established relationship, OMG ITS SO FLUFFY status

warnings; none just tooth rotting fluff

w/c; 1,988

a/n; this is going to be the cheesiest and LONGEST one yet, but I’ve been wanting to do this kind of scenario for so long I hope I do my own self justice tbh. hope everyone else enjoys this as well!

Staring up at him a few rows middle left from the stage is where you stood, breathless. They were in the process of doing choreography for IDOL. One of your many favorite songs. Even with sweat dripping down his face, he executed every move flawlessly, you know that Hobi would be proud of the golden maknae.

Upon the song coming to a close as they ended in their final poses, it was Kim Namjoon’s voice that broke through the thunderous screams and applauds of the sold out arena. He started his usual heartwarming speech that endlessly thanked ARMY for their constant outpouring of love and support throughout the years that has kept all the members going strong.

Never failing to make your eyes start watering, knowing that Jungkook always tends to get choked up during these as well. Especially when he takes the time to just feel the moment squatting down to the floor, body supported by the weight of his feet and one hand on the floor, the other coming up to wipe away tears with the back of his hand, sniffling, while still holding the mic. One look out at the sea of scattered fan signs, hearing the clicking of cameras, people he knows that genuinely care for him and his well being scream his name has him buzzing in a feeling of euphoria. One he will never get sick of.

You watched on with love and admiration. He let the feeling linger on for a few minutes longer while Namjoon finished up the speech and let the other members say a few words if they wanted too. Using those last few minutes to look over towards your section that he knew you were located at since you saw him earlier and told him the day prior to the performance is where you would be. Scanning through the many faces until his eyes caught yours. Mouthing the words ‘I love you’ to him, he grinned his bunny toothed smile that you know and love. Then he winked. Just winked. Which made you give him back a confused smile.

He only ever winked at you when he was up to something.

Straightening up from his squatted position he brought the mic to his mouth to say a few words himself while the other members silently walked off the stage unbeknownst to you, since you only ever had eyes for him which he knowingly used to his advantage. Just like he knew the wink he just gave you would have you questioning what he had planned.

What had he planned? Good question. You were about to find out. The stage help brought out two stools to the center of the stage, several feet apart, and two mic stands. He adjusted the mic stand furthest from you. After, he sat down on the stool closest to you on stage and adjusted the mic to suit him better in the new position. The other remained empty as the lights dimmed low until there was only one singular light left on, on Jungkook. Just then, the sound of a guitar could be heard in the distance, still in the dark, but it played a tune you were all too familiar with. One Jungkook was familiar with as well.

And then, he started to sing. Or, you thought he was going to sing. Until a feminine voice came from the dark in the direction the guitar music was coming from. Once again, you were left breathless.

Baby, take my hand.

I want you to be my best friend, 'cause you're my Iron Man.

And I love you 3000.

Baby, take a chance. 'Cause I want this to be somethin', straight out of a Hollywood movie.

Walking onstage was none other than Stephanie Poetri. Your inner fan girl screamed along with the rest of the stadium at the sudden surprise guest. Yet, you had a feeling that wouldn’t be the only surprise.

Jungkook nodded along to the song and watched as Stephanie walked straight up to where he was and sat down on the other stool next to him. Now the second mic stand made sense, you thought incredulously. Now sitting down, Stephanie continued on with the song effortlessly.

See you standing there, and nothing compares.

And all I can think, is, "Where is the ring?"

'Cause I know you wanna ask, scared the moment will pass.

I can see it in your eyes, just take me by surprise.

Your body started swaying of its own accord, getting lost in the serene melody. Eyes closing subconsciously to really feel the song to its fullest, a big closed mouth smile on your face.

Unknowingly to you, Jungkook was watching you the entire time. And seeing your reaction to the current surprise had his heart full with love and joy, smiling to himself. He couldn’t wait to show you the rest of the surprise, he just hoped you would take it just as well.

And all my friends, they tell me they see, you're planning to get on one knee.

But I want it to be out of the blue. So make sure I have no clue, when you ask..

Baby, take my hand.

I want you to be my best friend, 'cause you're my Iron Man.

And I love you 3000.

Baby, take a chance. 'Cause I want this to be somethin', straight out of a Hollywood movie.

The second that Jungkook starts singing your eyes burst open with anticipation of the beauty he’s going to bring to the song just with his voice alone. Your entire body relaxing instantly with how soothing it is. You smile contently at him as you see him already staring right back at you. Him, with a more serious look on his face.

I see you standing there, and I can't help but stare.

I'm ready to bring, your wedding ring.

On the day that we met, I wanted to ask,

If you'd be by my side forever.

The look he was giving you sent chills down your spine. The good kind. Your entire body vibrating from the way your heart was beating out of your chest with some kind of adrenaline that came out of nowhere, it’s like your body already knew what was about to happen before you did.

And all your friends, they tell you they see, me planning to get on one knee.

I'll make sure it's out of the blue. I promise you'll have no clue.

When I ask.

As if on some kind of hidden cue, Jungkook stood up from the stool, grabbing the mic out of the stand, and started walking to your side of the stage’s stairs, the light staying on him, following him to keep him illuminated to the crowd and you.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it was definitely beating now with an intensity you can hear in your ears. As he walked towards you with grace, still singing, the surrounding crowd was dispersing automatically, parting like the Red Sea for him.

Before you knew it he was in front you, and only then did you realize that the crowd around you was pushed back with security as to give you two your own moment of space within the clutter of people.

Not used to having all the attention on you made the red tint litter your cheeks with full force, absolute confusion adorned your face with a perplexity that Jungkook has never seen before. It made you look even more beautiful in his eyes.

Baby, take my hand.

He reached one of his hands out, the one not currently holding the mic. And waited for you to grab it. Which, of course you did, albeit a little on the shaky side. But come on, with so many eyes on you, can anyone blame you?!

I just wanna be your best friend. 'Cause I'm your Iron Man,

And I love you 3000.

When you grabbed his hand with your left, it gave him the rest of the courage he needed to proceed with the final half of the surprise. And he inwardly thanked you for unknowingly giving him the correct hand to put the ring on. Which he would outwardly tell you and you guys will laugh about it years down the road when you reminisce on this special day for you as a couple.

He then proceeded to get down on one knee, still holding your left hand with his, his nerves started getting the best of him as he choked up a little on his words, tears already forming in the crease of his eyes ready to overflow at any moment with the severity of what he was about to ask you, bearing his whole soul and heart for the world to see, but most importantly, you.

Baby, take a chance.

“Y/N, from the moment I met you, I knew you were the one. In fact, not long after that first date I texted the hyungs that I was going to make sure you became my wife. That’s how certain I was. I’m still in awe after all these years over you and everything you do, not only for me, for us, but everyone around you. Especially with Army, the amount of genuine love and respect that you treat them with as they do you, is an interaction I will never get tired of seeing. How you fit in so flawlessly to our family, makes me want my own family with you as well. I promise to shower you with love and cherish you until my dying day, and even after. If you could do me the honor of becoming my wife, I will be eternally in your debt and the happiest man in the world.”

You were sobbing. No, ugly crying with snot and all uncontrollably.

“So, y/n, will you marry me, baby?”

The entire stadium became quiet, waiting to hear even an uttering of what your answer would be. Jungkook shared you in your ugly crying, snot and all, but of course he still looked handsome as ever. It wasn’t fair, you inwardly thought selfishly, and somewhat jealously, but mainly with love.

When you saw Jungkook’s expression change from hopefulness to one of sheer panic is when you realized you haven’t said anything to the poor soul since he asked almost 3 minutes ago, which, Jungkook, would later playfully whine at you were the most agonizing minutes of his life. Shaking yourself out of your own head you started nodding your head quickly not able to trust your voice with working properly right now.

He let out a visible sigh of relief, letting go of your hand briefly to dig the ring out of his inner jacket pocket he wore all night to ensure the safety of the precious cargo until this moment and shakily slid the ring on your finger before standing back up in front of you, grabbing both sides of your face to lean down and give you the most passionate kiss he could muster, slightly sloppy from nerves still.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a lone clap coming from the stage closest to the lovesick couple. You both parted from the kiss, now holding each other tightly with your head on his chest, hand splayed out secretly admiring the ring in all its beautiful glory, and him, chin settling on your head as a big triumphant grin adorned his face, looking up. And there was the rest of your family, all the boys standing in line leading the stadium to thunderous applause and hoots and hollers, screaming their well wishes while the boys said theirs in their respective mics. Even Stephanie was still on stage next to them clapping and smiling as she effortlessly sang the last line in Jungkook’s place without music.

'Cause I want this to be something, straight out of a Hollywood movie.

#I love you 3000 #I love you 3000 II #stephanie poetri #jackson wang #thebtswritersclub #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts x reader #angst #bts fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys

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bebykim · 4 years ago

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this style gentw ---🛐

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rainrainbunnies · 4 years ago

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Shout out to the people who follow me, you enjoy my content I post and repost on here? Thank you so much because I sure don't.

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yoon-kooks · 7 years ago

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After Poetry

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: FLUFF, badboy!AU

Summary: The poetry club was full of sensitive sweethearts. And then there was Min Yoongi.

Prompt: “I have to introduce you to my friends and you look like a teddy bear compared to our biker gang looking group, oh god.” AU [requested by @10starsmuzie thanks a bunch!!] 💖

Word count: 814

“Yoongi, club’s over,” you took a seat next to the only member still left in the classroom. He was way too absorbed in writing to notice everyone else had already gone home.

As the poetry club’s president, it was your job to not only manage club activities and events, but also to support and get to know the other members. You had learned that Min Yoongi, for example, had a talent for writing such poetic lines, despite his seemingly unfriendly nature. Perhaps it was his scary piercings and tattoos that discouraged others from approaching him. He did have a fairly dark aura surrounding him, but as the bright and bubbly being that you were, you were only intrigued by it.

“Should I leave?” he hummed with too much confidence. He knew. You didn’t know how he knew, but he definitely did know you had a soft spot for him.

“Well I can’t leave until you do since I have the keys to lock the room,” you pouted. “So yes, you should leave.”

“Where should we go then?” he asked, getting up to stretch. That was his way of inviting you out on a date. It somehow became a weekly thing that you both did after club together.

“Ooh! There’s this new boba place I want to try~” your eyes suddenly filled with sparkles. The milk tea shop had opened last week near campus, but you were willing to wait until you and Yoongi could try it out together.

“I don’t like boba,” the boy shook his head. “It’s too sweet. Like you.”

“Are you trying to say you don’t like me, or that I’m too sweet?” you narrowed your eyes.

Yoongi only shrugged with a smirk. You’d like to think that that meant he thought you were sweet, and that he had a tiny crush on you as well.

“Anyway, I heard this boba place also has really good iced coffee,” you took the boy’s hand. “So let’s go~”

“Even their coffee is too sweet,” Yoongi said as soon as the two of you left the shop with drinks in hand. He had only taken one sip before making that judgment.

“Let me try!” You took a sip of his sweet coffee right from his hand. Yoongi wasn’t wrong, but you liked it even more than the milk tea you ordered. “Wait, yours is really good…! Let’s trade~”

You hummed gleefully as the boy let you swap drinks with his. He wouldn't say no to you, even if he didn’t want the milk tea. Because he, too, had a soft spot for you.

Buzz! You saw Yoongi’s butt-pocket suddenly light up—not that you were staring. He pulled his phone out from his pocket and started texting as the two of you continued to walk towards the bus stop.

“Is it your friends?” Your nosy self leaned over to see what the boy was texting. It was a group chat labeled “little shits”.

“Yeah, they wanna study together,” Yoongi sighed. “Aka, they want me to give them all the answers to the homework.”

“Ooh, are you The Smart Friend™ of the group?” you giggled. “If you don’t feel like meeting them, you can always say you’re busy on a date~?”

“They don’t know about you,” he stuck his cute little tongue out at you.

“Wow, should I be offended that you haven’t mentioned me to your friends?” You pretended to be angry. But the truth was, you and Yoongi weren’t official, so you couldn’t be mad that you were more of his little secret. You were sure it had to do with the fact that you were basically the opposite of Yoongi and his friends. While they wore hardcore leather and tattoos, you wore soft floral dresses. His friends would probably lose their shit if they saw a cute teddy bear like you latched onto a badboy like them. The only thing you and Yoongi had in common was poetry. But maybe that was already more than enough for you to fall in love with him.

“Do you want to meet them?” he chuckled at you. “You can tag along if you want.”

“Is that okay?” you blushed. “Won’t I be a little out of place amongst you baddies?”

“Hey, if I can join the poetry club with all you softies, I think you can come meet a couple of my friends,” he took your hand and twirled you around once. “Besides, they’re actually bigger dorks than you, so don’t worry.”

“I’m a dork?” you gasped. “Don’t act like you aren’t just as soft and dorky, Yoongi~!”

“I’m not soft,” he said, with the most adorable pout while still holding your bubble milk tea.

“Sure you aren’t~” You gave the boy a quick peck on his rosy cheeks to prove that he was in fact soft. “Alright, let’s go meet your friends~”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #sfwbangtan #badboy au #yoongi x reader #bts imagines #bts drabbles #yoongi #suga #bts #bangtan #after poetry

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probablynotpink · 7 years ago

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The Pictured Poet Bts Au ?? x Y/n Prolouge/? Next>>

#bts au #social media au #fake text au #kpop #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #x reader #poetry #photography #bts #bangtan #love yourself tear

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4200nemobackup · 2 years ago

Note

Hey love~ Could you get a request of mine done?

Sub!Jin as an aristocrat, who doesn't believe in any sort of myths as such, is a famous poet and is held in high regards in the society. Y/N is a reclusive widow, or so the people think... but secretly she's a vampire, and Jin gets successfully seduced by her?

I wish you could write about when she bites him and sucks him off👉👈... it's fine if this doesn't chalk up to your taste, but if it does ... could you please please please make a sizzling piece????

Ooooo sexy! I’ll be happy to write this for you! Thanks for sending it in!!!

____________________________________________

“Black lace”

Pairing:sub!jin x widowed vampire!reader

premise: King PD hosts a grand ball to commemorate his anniversary of becoming king. To this ball, he invites every known noble that resides in the kingdom. Among said nobles is Kim Seokjin, one of the Kingdoms greatest minds to date. The poet is treated as next to royalty, so no one expects him to be so mystically drawn to y/n, the dark widower with a secret she has yet to behold.

A/n: please enjoy! Thank you for sending this in, it’s so hot <3 I’m happy to write this and I hope you have good day! I’m sorry for talking so long with this. From now on I’m going to try my best to post more frequently!

____________________________________________

The clock strikes eight.

King PD had just given the guards clearance to allow every guest into the ballroom. It was time for the celebration to begin. No longer would the golden walls of the room be dormant; laying in wait.

King PDs chief knight; Namjoon, had opened the doors, and began happily greeting the royal citizens of Bangtan, one by one. It wasn’t long before they came flooding in, painting Castle Bantangs walls with their extreme etiquette and modesty.

The socialites each made their way in, one by one, or group by group, as it was immensely popular for citizens to attend these events in parties of four or five people. Seven, eight or nine, was also very common.

As Namjoon greeted Lady Boa, his eyes fell upon a familiar face in the line.

His chestnut brown tresses properly styled, a creme colored shawl and suit, leather shoes, and bedazzled staff, he all dawned. His clothes clung perfectly to his lean frame and broad shoulders, making him such the eye candy.

Namjoon was all but surprised; his friend was known for standing miles outside of the box.

The familiar face got closer until it finally graced Namjoons presence.

Ah yes, he recognized the poet from anywhere. His confidence a shadow, his utter beauty the Angel on his shoulder.

“Seokjin,” Namjoon began, as he bowed. Seokjin reciprocated; following formality was never an issue on his behalf.

“It’s nice to see you here. I didn’t think you would attend.”

Seokjin grinned. “How could I not? King PD is my favorite king ever.”

“I’m afraid He’s the only king you know, Jin.” Namjoon quipped with a smile. Jin chuckled and patted his friends shoulder. They loved banter; clearly it was refreshing.

“Aren’t you nervous for your speech tonight?”

Jin was a man of words. His words, his weapon. That’s what he was known for. A renowned poet. Everyone indulged in the many publishing’s of SJK, or Kim Seokjin. His poetry was everywhere, even in schools.

“No. Speeches are my thing.”

He could never be nervous to speak. It wasn’t in his nature.

Namjoon didn’t even know why he asked the question. He’d known Jin for so long at this point, it was clear that Jin had no issue with projecting his voice to people. He did it over text, and to Seokjin, it was no different from that at all.

“I’ll be off then,” said Jin. “I think those hors d’oeurves are calling my name.”

Namjoon chuckled, as it seemed that Jin was ignoring the obvious display of other socialites beckoning for his attention. He would give food his attention, but not his adoring fans.

Just as Seokjin was going to turn around, his eyes fell upon a feminine figure, draped with black lace from crown to soles.

Jin’s mind was quick to put a name to them; a black swan present among the opposite of its kind.

They sashayed closer, and the aura radiating from them absorbed Jin entirely. Jasmine and Vanille fragrance massaging his olfactory receptors.

“Good evening, Ms.l/n,” Namjoon greeted. She lifted her veil, revealing her stunning features to both Jin and Namjoon.

A seductive fox, with a dove for a face. An Angel, who’s true origins are unknown. Heaven or hell, did she crawl from?

Jin was known to use mythical creatures in his poetry, but no one really knew that he never believed in any of that stuff. He was a sucker for metaphorical poetry; allusions and allegories galore. Doves and the heavens went together to portray an image of a divine sight; a sight Jin didn’t believe in until now.

Now he believed in a higher power. Mother Nature must’ve had a limit to the beauty of her billions of creations. A God must’ve sculpted this woman out of porcelain and breathed life into her statue.

Of course, Jin was trapped under her gaze, a victim to true seduction in its purest form. She welcomely grinned at the man enthralled by herself. She knew him; he was Jin, the poet.

“You have the most beautiful eyes”, Jin begins. “Your eyes behold the truth of all time, and key to all earthly beauty.”

He latched onto her hand, and kissed it in custom.

“I will be the one to uncover each one, for I am an explorer and your irises, the unknown.”

She blushed at his compliment. She was easy to understand such metaphors.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Such compliments were hard to come by for the woman. She repulsed people, not by her face, but by her past. People who knew her, hated her. Seokjin was a breath of fresh air.

“Tis not a problem, my dear. Would you like to accompany me to a table?”

Namjoon snickered behind his hands, laughing at how quick Seokjin managed to land a date for tonight’s event. That was so like him; his words got him into many situations.

The woman nodded gently and grabbed Seokjins free hand, sashaying once again with him by her side.

Her presence earned whispers and stares, a widow with a new man was bound to receive criticism.

Jin was clearly non the wiser to the current state of the royal ball room, or maybe he didn't care. He was indifferent. The woman in front of him was more enchanting and demanding than the thought of the other nobles and their bigoted opinions. Jin hated most of them, save for a few of the more pleasant bunch of his friends.

Long story short, the nobles always had their opinions, as did all people, so Jin cared little about their stance on most things.

He and his newly found date found a table and sat promptly next to each other, basking in each other’s new found presence.

Jin seemed to be enthralled with the woman in front of him. His eyes wouldn’t leave her face, as opposed to her, who stole a quick glance at him every two minutes. Jin’s tender stare was forcing her to shift her attention away from the formal speeches being given.

She tried to break the ice with a measly question.

“Don’t you have a speech to put on soon?”

Jin handsomely grinned. “Yes. I do, however I don’t go on until late. There’s many a time before I lay foot on that ugly stage, unfortunately.”

“Why unfortunately?” She asked with genuine curiosity.

“Because….I simply don’t care to stand and give these people my time. I am devoted to King PD, after all he saved my life a long time ago .These townspeople are ignorant though. I wish not to be in their presence. I only want to give the speech out of respect and my love for the action of admiration.”

Y/n nodded in great understanding. The towns nobles were judgmental. She knew this fact best. The people barely associated with her after the untimely death of her husband. Come to think of it, they never even seemed to like her enough then.

For a split second, the same thought crossed both their minds. They didn’t want to be sitting here, soaking up boredom.

Jin grabbed y/ns hand and got up quietly, trying to leave without a sound following their movements. Namjoon spotted them out of the corner of his watchful eye, wondering where they were going. Jin was the type to get horny during these things, Namjoon thought. He knew a lot about his friend and his occasional lack of restraint. He also knew it was because of Jins lack of any sexual encounters. If Jin had a dollar for every person that had a desire to get in bed with him, he would have been a billionaire. On the other side of the coin, if Jin had a dollar for every person he had actually slept with, he would have exactly ten dollars in a piggy bank with change for some reason.

The pair met in the secret hallway, if anything, more quiet than secret. The hall was empty, just them and their heavy panting present. They had held in their breath for too long.

The exhale they both let out revealed the heavy emotions of lust and exhaust. The room felt hot now, and they both began to look more attractive by the growing minute.

Jin found himself being suddenly controlled by her striking beauty. He couldn’t think straight as he stared into her dominant eyesight. What was happening to his body? He felt himself inching closer and closer to her by the minute, but why? Was this his doing?

In an instant, they both grabbed a hold of each other, grasping into each other’s faces with urgency.

Jin had figured some entity or emotion had assumed his brains position a long while ago, so he let the last of his coherency- his tongue- lead the way.

“I am parched,” he began. “Please; let me partake in the sweet wine your lips must have to offer. Allow me to drink from your well of fresh water.”

Under her breath, y/n seductively grinned, for this was her plan all along.

“Drink till your hearts content. Drink until your mouth is no longer is dry, for I will steal a drink from you myself. The virgin red wine you behold is mine, and I wish to have a glass.”’

Poetry was Jins favorite language to speak, and thankfully she was fluent.

Their lips collided, tongues fighting a war both of them wanted to give in to. Eventually it was Jin who gave in to his temptations further than he already had. He let y/n take the reigns of the situation, as there was nothing more he wanted than to be at her mercy. The feeling of lust and subservience was racking him all night as he was in her presence.

Y/n pleased Jin better than anyone ever did. She was better; they were making out for ten minutes straight, and she was already the best he ever had. This was evident by the way Jin was moaning in her mouth, wanton. Evident in the way that he was unconsciously rubbing up on her, trying to get friction against the growing problem in his pants. Of course she noticed his neediness.

Pulling away, she moved to make enact her plan.

Love bites were her favorite.

Jin shuddered as he felt her tongue against that sweet spot in his neck. A cute sound escaped his plump lips, making her smile. She was glad he was enjoying himself.

Jin felt so sensitive. Every single part of his body was tingling under her touch. Was she aware of how she was affecting him?

Y/n rested her sharp teeth against Jins sweet spot, ready to lend her true love to him. She hoped that it would only feel like a small prick to him. Her teeth delicately sunk into Jins perfect skin, causing him to cry out. She was frightened. Was she not careful enough?

Jin wasn’t sure what just happened but whatever y/n was doing under him was feeling so fucking good. His eyes were scrunched shut, and he refused to open them for his own good. He began to feel some heightened feeling possess his body. Everything- he could feel everything, pleasurable.

To test her work, y/n used her elbow to pin Jin against the wall. Her free hand found itself palming the man, and so sudden, came the moaning of Jin. He gasped and choked on his own spit at these sensations.

“Fuck~ please suck it. Please?”

Her work was a success, as usual.

“Well, my love. Since you beg so politely.” Y/n answered softly.

Y/n unzipped Jins trousers, pulling them down past his knees. She didn’t plan to get his clothes dirty, since he did have a speech to do soon.

She wanted to ruin him, not his outfit.

Y/n got excited at the outline in Jins underwear. His juicy, veiny dick made her so wet. It was a bit long, but nothing she couldn’t conquer. She had to tease herself and him, so why not lick it up through the fabric?

Jin tried closing his legs; the sensitivity getting the best of him. Fuck he wanted it so bad, but he knew he was gonna cum fast anyway.

“Awww. Someone’s sensitive, huh? Let me taste you baby. Don’t hide from me.”

Y/n pried Jins legs open with with simple ease. She wasted zero time, her tongue licking Jins tip through his boxers.

Various sounds spilled from Jins mouth, he was trying so hard to keep quiet but he couldn’t help it. He grabbed his shirt collar and shoved it in his mouth, trying his best shut himself up. It was for his own good. He never knew he could be this loud.

“Feels so good right?”

“Mhm-fuck.”

Yes indeed. Y/n reduced a man of words to sounds only. It felt satisfying at the least.

She followed by pulling down his boxers now, freeing his hard cock. The cold air hit his cock, making Jin suck in a a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The urge to shamelessly beg was becoming harder to fight. He was fucking losing so bad.

“Please Miss. Please suck my cock. I need it so bad.”

“Baby’s so polite. I’ll grant your wish, happily.”

Y/n started with kitten licks against his tip, making Jin tremble from the sensations. He whined when he felt her entire mouth wrap around his cock, eagerly sucking him up as if she were starved. Y/b bobbed her head, not even trying to save the Jin from his orgasm. She knew he would cum fast; he was supposed to. That’s what she wanted him to do.

“Fuck! Please don’t stop!”

Y/n took all of Jin in her mouth, making sure to choke on his dick.

Jin watched her below him, and the sight forced his eyes to the back of his head. He was behaving like such a needy whore, but he was being what he truly was. It was the truth, he needed this.

Jin was drooling now, these were the reactions y/n coaxed out of him.

She swirled her tongue around his tip, Jin began to tremble in his spot. So close, so close, fuck right there!

Y/n closed her mouth around him as her finishing touch, as his warm juices exploded in her mouth. He shook violently, uncontrollably whining from the powerful orgasm that had just racked his body.

Y/n swallowed his sweet cum, teasing him whilst his cock was still in her mouth. She came off of him with a pop. Various Juices coated Jins pretty cock. He felt dizzy now. He’s never came so hard in his entire life.

What was y/n? Who was she? How did she make Jin feel like that? Was it magic?

“You should get ready. You’re supposed to be on stage in ten minutes.”

Jin barely heard such information, his orgasm still messing with his brain. He was cloudy, but his emotions were clear to him.

That woman would be his downfall, his kryptonite. So mysterious, so seductive, so entirely perfect.

#sub!idol #sub!bts #sub!jimin #sub!jungkook #sub!hoseok #sub!jin #sub!namjoon #sub!taehyung #sub!yoongi #jin x reader #sub!jin x reader #royal!au #royal!bts #royal!Jin #vampire!reader

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burnedfriedrice · 7 years ago

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A Pink & Hazel Winter (Shitty 3am Jikook Poetry)

Pink.

He steps in.

A soft jingle escorts cold December air

As it rushes from behind and ruffles his pink hair.

He inhales deeply.

Aromas sing, dance, and masquerade

In a juxtapositionally bitter-sweet serenade.

He observes keenly.

Here and there, they all sit the same

The regulars whom he doesn’t know by name.

He smiles slightly.

A strange sense of companionship enters

Only among these familiar strangers.

He orders softly.

Hazel.

The other boy nods too quick and blushes too red

His hazel locks shift in his stead.

The flustered boy hopes the other won’t take notice

As he panics a little and singles a cardboard chalice.

Pink watches Hazel intently

As the younger boy flits to and fro, briskly awork.

The latter’s order is seasoned to his fingertips:

Some of this, some of that; just the usual works.

Hazel caps the lid and hands it over

Pink takes it gently, his heart aflutter.

The textured cup is close to his chest

Warm to the touch, it comforts him best.

Pink turns to leave

But looks back,

He blushes.

Hazel is staring back with an equally flushed complexion.

With a smile on his lips,

Pink steps out.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949815

ayyyo m8s HOW was ITTt? Wat is grammar idek hhhhhh

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pars-ley · 3 years ago

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Gone but never forgotten

Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

Summary: Out of sight out of mind might be true for some but definitely not in your case. Your old boyfriend made frequent appearances in your mind, but what happens when fantasy becomes reality?

Genre: exes to lovers au / angst / fluff / smut / bookstore au

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Smut / unprotected sex / creampie / nipple sucking / making out / talk of heartbreak / talk of low mood / pining

Beta Reader: @bangtanintotheroom 🖤

Tag list: @mwitsmejk @vantxx95

A/N: Ok so I'm back, trying to get back into the swing of writing. It's not proving to be easy! This is a very very belated birthday gift for @taegularities I just love so many of your fics, I wanted to create something in return and to thank you for sharing your talent with us. Happy incredibly belated birthday! I used the prompts 'Taehyung / bookstore au / emotional sex'. I'm also using my bingo square 'Kim Taehyung' from That thing you do bangtan bingo.

Your day was spent unpacking the large shipment of new books you ordered onto the shelves and checking to ensure you were placing them in the correct alphabetised order. It was a rather mundane task but you somehow enjoyed it...usually. Today, however, was different.

Your mind repeatedly drifts off into your usual fantasy world. No matter how much you tried to pull yourself out of the crevice you were falling into, the incline was too steep and you just kept sliding right back in.

Imagining another life made with different choices, fewer words spoken and alternate actions taken.

You lose yourself in happier scenarios where he didn't leave or, better yet, you went with him. Another country, a fresh start for you both and exciting adventures to last a lifetime.

That, however, happened almost two years ago. He had an opportunity and you made a choice. A stupid one, you realised too late, but here you were. Envisioning an alternate story for you both was the only way you'd been able to cope with the impossible decision to separate.

All your friends mentioned how well you'd dealt with it, with your smile practically cemented on, masking everything else, when in truth...you hadn't dealt with it at all. You'd ignored it and hoped that he'd change his mind; realised how he couldn't live without you and come back.

You had always been so sure he was your person, but here you were, twenty-two months on and you're still telling yourself the same thing, clinging to the same desperate hope.

"Excuse me," a soft voice interrupts your train of thought. "Can you point me in the direction of the fashion section?"

Your usual polite, professional smile instinctively stretches across your face. "Of course."

You escort the customer to the correct aisle and leave him there to explore, whilst returning to the poetry section and continuing the re-stock.

Movement catches your attention between a gap in the books and your eyes naturally flick to it.

Just another customer by the till, leaning against the thick wooden desk, scanning the expanse behind it. He turns quickly, searching and you freeze.

You blink, once, twice, three times. The scenery doesn't change; the person on the other side of the bookcase remains.

Your heart stutters before hammering wildly against your ribs, painfully so. Panicked and excited all at once, your breath feels like it's been stolen from you, Cupid himself sucking the air out of your lungs.

You're so lost in your day dream it has started to bleed into reality.

Him.

How else could this be possible?

To have him on the same soil as you and not half way around the world seemed impossible and yet here he is. Was fantasy becoming reality?

His long, velvet coat hanging around his calves makes his frame look longer than you remembered. He runs a hand through his layered hair and you find yourself mesmerised as each strand snaps elegantly back into place.

His slender hands reach out and press the bell that sits at your pay desk, he scans the store and when nobody comes, he presses it again and calls out, "Hello?", those same innocent eyes searching once more.

The deep monotone of his voice echoes through you, calling to a place inside your chest that's been dark and decaying, a place that only answers to him. The empty hole there beats out of habit but right now feels full and thriving with the rhythmatic thrum. A foreign feeling that you have long been numb to.

When his eyes head in your direction, you snatch yourself away from the break in the books and shield yourself with the others that are tightly packed and don't leave a slither of light between them.

"Someone you're trying to avoid?" The soft spoken fashionista whispers next to you, making you jump.

"Um, no, not really," you respond flustered, an uncomfortable heat growing under your shirt and making its way up your neck.

"Then why are you hiding?" He asks quietly, his eyes turning to crescent moons as he smiles at you.

"I'm not really sure." You almost laugh. "I guess, he's just…"

"Someone you weren't expecting?"

You nod. "The very last person I'd expect to see."

"Well, he is now looking down the aisles, it's only a matter of time before he finds you." His friendly smile somehow manages to calm your escalating nerves. "...Plus, I need to pay for this book." There's a gentle teasing from this stranger that brings you comfort and somehow eases your stress, just a little.

You nod and push yourself off of the shelving, walking as fast as you can to the cash desk. "Can I help you?" You call across the store.

As soon as you're behind the counter, you survey your surroundings and spot him immediately returning right to you. You can't bring yourself to look at his face as you busy yourself with receipts and a stapler.

"I'm looking for a particular book, do you…" He stops abruptly and you can feel his eyes burning a hole into you. "Y/n?"

You force your eyes up to his, almost worried by what you might see in them. What if he doesn't look at you the way he always did? What if he does? Either scenario is gut-wrenching.

"It's really you," he breathes.

You stared into his dark pools, drowning in them after willingly diving in head-first. And suddenly, you're home again.

You're unsure how much time passes as you both silently gaze longingly at each other when someone clears their throat, making you jump and snapping you right back into your bookstore.

"Sorry to interrupt this adorable reunion...but can I just pay for this book, then I'll be out of your hair?" The couture customer smiles apologetically.

You throw down the small papers, freeing your hands, and fumble as you ring his book through the till. "My apologies sir, thank you for your visit."

As you hand the book wrapped and bagged over to him, he gives you an encouraging wink and says, "No, thank you, I'll be back again for more." He waves his purchased item. "The name’s Jimin by the way, as opposed to sir."

He heads towards the exit and when he's behind Taehyung, he gives you an excited thumbs up. You can't help the tug against the corner of your mouth as you find yourself smiling across at the friendly stranger. "See you again then, Jimin."

He leaves, making you all too aware of the fact that you and Taehyung are now alone.

There's an electricity sparked between you, a silent buzzing connection making your skin tingle and your stomach flip.

"I--" He starts but the words seem to get lost somewhere in his throat, closing his mouth again.

He leans slightly across the counter; you're unsure if it's intentional or not. His eyes burn into yours, setting your insides ablaze as you feel it devastate every inch of you like a ravaging forest fire.

His fingers touch yours on the counter, making you jump and your hand shifts away involuntarily. His face drops as his eyes fall sadly from yours. Fearing you've ruined any potential moment, you ask, "Can we talk? Have you got time?"

You watch the light bloom in his eyes. "For you, of course."

You can't fight the pull on your mouth that leaves you grinning like a Cheshire cat as you rush to the shop door and turn the ‘closed’ sign over and lock up.

You start for the back room, a nod of your head indicating for him to follow. Quickly, you power walk to the mirror in there to check your reflection before he joins you.

Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes look wild. You hardly recognized the person staring back. It was the old you. The version of yourself filled with belief of love and fate and a heart full of hope. Where had she come from and why was she back? You'd grown used to your tired eyes and lackluster hair. The person looking back at you was a shock to your system.

Your eyes snap to his figure entering behind you, busying yourself with the drinks machine in an attempt to distract from your vanity.

"Would you like tea or coffee?" you ask.

He shakes his head as he removes his long coat and drapes it over one of the chairs. His slender frame, you notice, looks more muscular with broader shoulders and bigger arms.

You swallow to wet your suddenly very dry throat. The sight of his jumper pulled tight across his chest has your insides fluttering wildly.

"What are you doing back?" you ask hesitantly, worried about what the answer might be.

"I'm just visiting, actually." He steps towards you making every cell in your body tense up. You want to dive at him and taste his lips again, to see if your memory does them justice.

"I came to see if perhaps…"

Your eyes watch his mouth as he talks, mesmerised by his angular Cupid's bow, each point an arrow directly to your heart. Every cell in your body felt like it was screaming for him. Strange how quickly you fell into old feelings and habits. They truly do die hard.

"...if maybe, you'd…" His awkward, boxy smile has your heart doing somersaults in your chest, the wildly beating organ desperate to escape your cage of ribs. "...given any thought to what I asked you?"

Your confusion snaps you out of your fantasy that’s escalating rapidly behind your eyes.

"I'm sorry?" You blink. "I'm not understanding...what did you ask and when?"

A frown mars his brow and you notice a crimson hue faintly painting his cheeks. "The letter I sent you...I asked you if...if you would consider...possibly giving us another chance."

Your mind stills, repeating the last few words over and over in your head like a mantra. "Letter?"

"Yes, the letter…" Realisation dawns on him and his cheeks flush further. "...you didn't get it."

How could you have not received it? You didn't come across it in your post box unless...no. She wouldn't.

...Or would she?

Your roommate and best friend. She knew what a painful time it was for you when he left and you knew she'd do anything to encourage you to be happy. The problem is you've become so good at pretending that she thinks you're happy now and have been for a while. She sees a genuine smile and hears real laughter, while your cheeks ache and the sound is painfully forced.

If she did keep this letter or throw it away, she would think she was doing it for your own benefit. It would have been to protect you, no matter how mistaken she was.

Taehyung rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he looks at the floor.

"So what did this letter say then?" you asked, an amused eyebrow raised from his embarrassment.

"Uhhh, I...well…" He takes a deep, frustrated breath and breathes out with force. "In a nutshell, what it boils down to is…"

As he paces the room, he runs a frustrated hand through his thick, voluminous locks. He finally stops in front of you, less than arm's length; it's the first time that he's been within touching distance. You hear the involuntary swallow cascading noisily down your throat in the deadly silence.

"Look. I love you. I still love you, I haven't stopped. From that day we met in the park and I took that photo of you staring out onto the pond, with your hair flowing in the breeze, looking absolutely breathtaking. You're still the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on." He reaches out and strokes your cheeks with the back of his slender fingers. Your pounding heart feels full enough to burst right out of you and paint a loving portrait with its splatter.

"I will continue to love you as long as time ticks on. As long as there is blood in my veins working this heart of mine, it will beat only for you."

He holds your head in both of his hands and stares into your eyes, beyond them and deep into your soul. Your breathing stills, forbidding your chest to move.

"If you want me to move back, I'm here. I'll do whatever it takes, just...please, don't let me live the rest of my life without you."

The pleading and sheer desperation is obvious in his voice and in his actions, written in the maroon coloured parts of his iris like the most romantic scroll.

"In a nutshell." You break the silence with your teasing remark, making him laugh and the intensity fades, leaving you able to breathe again.

His bassy laughter vibrates around you and sends a tingle up your spine. You were his in that instant, you handed him your heart on a silver platter with all the trimmings because life without him...it was empty.

He's your person.

Your lips find his wordlessly, the need to taste them overwhelming everything else. Every feeling you've ever had towards him boils to the surface, threatening to overflow.

Your memory had not done him justice. The sweet, familiar taste of his mouth pulls you in further and your hand tangles into his silky hair, grabbing a fistful to bring him closer still.

Your body moulds to his like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into position, not a millimeter of air between you.

The cold of the wall sharp against your back makes you gasp, not having realised you were even moving. Taehyung had a way of making you feel like you were floating in an expanse of space filled with hearts and flowers. Everything else disappears around you, nothing but him.

His delicate fingers hesitantly explore your body, skating along your skin and causing a ripple of goosebumps in their wake.

He takes his time undoing the buttons on your shirt and his lips leave a trail of moist prints down your neck and breasts, until he's softly sucking a nipple into his warm mouth.

His name leaves your lips, spoken pleadingly like a prayer, nothing but sheer and utter need for him to be inside you. You didn't want to take your time. You wanted to feel one with him, to feel all your broken pieces put back together and sealed with a loving kiss.

"Taehyung, please." You pull his mouth back up to yours and push him gently down onto one of the chairs.

You remove your underwear, teasingly still concealed by your dress and watch him as he undoes his belt and trousers. All the while his eyes never left you for a second, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Oh, how you wish it was your teeth against the soft, plump skin of his mouth instead.

You climb onto him, knees immediately pressing into the edge of the chair, the wood leaving painful indents on them. But as soon as you feel his erection against your entryway, any other discomfort is lost. You slide yourself down, heat shooting up your back and causing a shiver of pleasure to cascade down your spine as you stretch over him. His hands skate along the same path, as if following the shiver and encouraging its route. They make their way up to either side of your face, holding you still and directly in his eyeline. He had a way of looking right into you, reaching the darkest, most hidden parts, knowing your thoughts and feelings and allowing you the chance to do the same. You start to move your hips; gently and slowly, savouring every movement. With every inch of him touching you, you lose yourself in his dark pools staring back at you, wild with desire.

No words are spoken, just the sounds of ecstasy between you, as his bassy moans fill the room, surrounding you in a symphony of his pleasure, with you as the only member in the audience.

He thrusts up to match your hips winding around him, deliciously hitting that sensitive button inside you with perfect time. Your slick coats him and continues to melt around him as you feel the build up already starting.

“That’s it, angel,” he whispers, breath fanning out lightly against your mouth and sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin.

You feel yourself tighten around him, eyes rolling back into your head, ready to give yourself to him completely.

“Look at me,” he begs. “Please.”

You focus your eyes back on him, the connection instantaneous as soon as your gaze meets again. The intensity of it burning into you, spreading a wildfire of love and lust straight to your core and alighting it with the promise of your impending orgasm. You clench around him as you unravel, your sex milking his orgasm to your rhythm. His hot seed spills inside you and as your contracting core returns to its normal state, you relax against him as his arms wind around your waist and hold you tight.

Your pounding hearts aligned and your fast breathing was simultaneous. He holds you in place, the only movement is his long fingers gently combing your hair. The urge to sleep is almost overwhelming but his voice snaps you out of your post-orgasm trance.

“Does this mean your answer is yes?”

You push away from his chest, your bewildered expression meeting his hopeful gaze. “What was the question again?”

His face drops and his mouth transforms into a small ‘o’ as he opens it to speak but no words find their way to your ears.

“I’m kidding,” you giggle, running your hands through his hair and planting your lips against his once more.

He grins against you, arms squeezing around your sides before he pulls away and is excitedly making plans. “So how do we do this, should I move back, or do you want to come out there with me? You know--”

You place a finger against his lips. “We’ll figure it out.”

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jinjinies · 3 years ago

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taehyung fic recs

all taehyung fics that i loved

will get updated constantly <3

a = angst f = fluff s = smut

✨= favourites

Series

bonded by @/igotbangtan_7 (wattpad) | 95 / ongoing | fuckboy!tae, kinda a vminkook fic ( theres tae x oc, jk x oc and slight jimin x oc), everyone's got trauma and demons, a bit messed up, one of my fav fics of all time, lots of mature themes beware | f, s, a ✨

monster by @/-kimtaesan (wattpad) | 85/85 | tae is oc's boss, mysterious tae, tae is hidding something, college au -ish, mafia/gang au | f, a, pinch of smut ✨

forever? forever by @/fantasybangtan (wattpad) | 24/24 | best friends/childhood friends au, named oc, jimin x oc and taehyung x oc, high school/college au | a, f, s ✨

the key to my drawer by @jjungkookislife | 11/11 + epilogue | best friends to lovers au | a, eventual s

perfectly wrong by @xpeachesncream | 15/15 | college au, fwbs au, fuckboy!tae, unrequited love | f, a, s

all i want by @ardentlyjae | 6/6 | bestfriends/childhood friends!tae, war au, reader x tae and reader x jk, strangers to lovers au, this fic hurts, love triangle, pining | ANGST ✨

One shots

paper cranes by @aquaminwrites | 18.3k | college au, best friends to lovers au, slice of life | f, s, a

everythingoes by @jamaisjoons | 24k | fuckboy!tae x Reader and Jungkook x Reader, infidelity, toxic relationship, 2 love interests | s, slight fluff, angsty

first light by @inktae | 24.8k | based on hotarubi no mori e, jk x reader and tae x reader | f, mainly a

let it snow by @suga-kookiemonster | 18.8k | fwb au, snowed in au | s, f

poetry of the stars by @jjiimin | 25.4k | friends to enemies to lovers, best friend’s brother au, hurt/comfort au, character death | f, a ✨

cheater by @personasintro | 16.8k | infidelity au, gradual, it goes through the phases which makes it even more heartbreaking | s, a ✨

the art of broken love by @moonlightchildz | 21.2k | best friend's ex, pining | a, s

heatwave by @curly-bangtan | 12k | roommate au, friends to lovers au, crack | s, tiny a

the holi-date by @kpopfanfictrash | 40k | fake dating au, neighbours au | f, s ✨

good luck charm by @gukyi | 11k | best friends to lover au, roommates au, unrequited love, actor au | f, a

heart strung symphonies by @inkedtae | 12.6k | college au, opera singer!tae x pianist!reader, friends to lovers au, slow burn | a, s, f

rupture; rapture by @inkedtae | 13.2k | exes au, friends to lovers?, enemies to lovers?, rekindled lovers?, sculptor au | a, s

say my name by @jamaisjoons | 13k | roommate au, mutual pining, pwp, ft. jk | slight f, s

right amount of wrongs by @taegularities | 15.9k | best friends to lovers, high school au, unrequited love | s, a, f

shutout by @ughseoks | 10.4k | hockey player!tae x coach’s daughter!reader, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, miscommunication | f, a, s

can't fake a feeling by @bubmyg | 12.4k | best friends to lovers au, college au, fuck boy!au without the smut, very loosely based off of to all the boys i’ve loved before | f, a

last updated: 02/05/22

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #taehyung x y/n #kpop #bts #taehyung fic #taehyung fic recs #taehyung oneshot

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btsydtrash · 3 years ago

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Euphoric Endeavours [9]

vampire bts, poly ot7 x uni student yn

AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But! I want to try and grow a little community on Tumblr, too. So, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too. I hope that you like it!

also, i don’t have a tag list, but if you follow/put notifications, you’ll get alerted. tysm loves!

find me on twitter word count: 4.1k

(angst / fluff / smut / gore)

tw: sex (marked with ---), vulgar language, physical assault (non-sexual)

Chapter 9 - ‘Ruination’

In the days following the night at the apartment, you and the boys have gotten increasingly closer. So close, in fact, it becomes impossible to find you without at least one of them trailing behind you, much to the confusion of most of the student body.

The previously untouchable group of model-like boys seem to hover around you like moths being drawn to open flames. They can’t seem to get enough of being around you. They were still frosty and unapproachable - a group of students had taken their sudden interest in you as implication of an ‘opening’ for new blood into their clan and had been denied, embarrassingly quickly.

Before you knew it, it was the last two weeks of your semester and you had spent nearly two months orbiting the Bangtan Boys. Your presentation was due the following Monday, and you had practically finished it all, happy to submit the work that you and Taehyung had breathed life into. Still, nerves trailed you, as they always did with physical presentations but you tried your best to hide it.

Jimin waits for you after class, grabbing your backpack and shouldering it with ease, ignoring the longing looks that get tossed his way. As soon as his eyes lay on you, his lips pull up in a bright smile, lifting his sunglasses into his hair and waving wildly, as if you somehow couldn’t see him with his glowing skin and his bright pink hair. He stood out from the crowd so clearly, it was painful to look at him sometimes.

Jungkook would grab your books without thought and open doors for you, shouldering in with his broad form and giving you a fond grin when you would tell him he did a good job. His dimples deepened, and his cheeks would take on a rosy glow, avoiding your eyes as if he were nervous. He never drops his polite tone with you, always using respectful language, but the distance between you slowly diminishes over those days until he feels comfortable enough putting his hands on your shoulders and leading you to the cafeteria, massaging the tense muscles with practiced ease.

Taehyung has more illustrations of you than he can count – fascinated by the slope of your nose and the shape of your lips. The thing is, he can never seem to get the twinkle in your eyes just right, so he would trash the half-complete composition, in irritation, before starting another. Although he was the first to befriend you, something he takes pride in and likes to rub in the faces of the others, he finds that your budding relationships with his brothers bugs him more than he would like to admit.

He covets your time, holding it selfishly to his chest, like a child would their favorite toy. He knows you aren’t an inanimate object, but he can’t help but feel… replaced when you rather spend your time with anybody else. He hides this feeling in the smallest corner of his heart, knowing that if he speaks it aloud, if he gives life to whatever budding emotion is festering in his chest, he would do irreversible damage to your friendship. So, he smiles and smiles and smiles, until he is alone and the frown of frustration can grow at its own leisure.

Namjoon thinks of you whenever he reads a piece of poetry, remembering the music in the way you speak. He shares his favorite novels with you – the two of you meet up a few times a week in your café to discuss the book’s contents, and he finds the way your brain works to be nothing short of fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. He sees the colors swirling in your eyes at the bottom of the pools in the aquarium he works in, shimmering vibrantly against the scales of the exotic aquatic creatures who call his job their home. He even finds himself telling them about you, as he scrubs the bottom of the tanks, oblivious to the blank way in which they watch him.

Hoseok still picks you up, he brings you food and keeps your stuffed full and happy. His favorite sight is you, mouth full of meat and your stomach being filled with things he provides. He doesn’t know why, but it fills a primal urge within him that he doesn’t care to try and flesh out. One time, he even had chicken wings delivered right to your door. You had been so surprised when your doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the local pimply pizza-boy, two boxes of the glistening, sauce-coated meat steaming in his hands. Hoseok had excitedly FaceTimed you as you ate, grinning from ear to ear as you wiggled happily on your sheets, mouth jam-packed with food and your heart warm.

Jin, with his magnetizing charm, collects you from work, sitting in a corner, tapping away at his keyboard – facts and figures that you had no chance of understanding swimming across his screen for hours, draining each mug of steaming liquid you silently leave at his side – a serious expression on his handsome face. Swarms of girls wait outside the window, staring and giggling at him, pointing and whispering words of praise, but it’s almost as if it is background noise for him. He doesn’t pay them a moment of notice, mouthing for another green tea from across the room. He, also, brings you small trinkets sometimes, not really thinking about the significance of them – a silky scarf here, a small handmade bracelet there.

To him, they are nothing but symbols of his growing fondness of you, but to you, as someone who isn’t used to this kind of attention, it stirs something in your tummy that keeps you awake at night sometimes, staring at his gifts and holding them close as you fall asleep.

You never take the bracelet off.

Yoongi is the only one who tries to keep that distance between you. It’s awkward for him to come home and see you in the living room, wearing one of Jungkook’s hoodies because yours got soaked in the rain, waiting for Namjoon to finish work. He doesn’t know why, but the sight of you becoming a regular fixture in his spaces sets him on edge.

He’s glad you are aware enough of his discomfort to keep yourself out of his room – in fact, you don’t go into any of their rooms, for privacy and respect of their space – because he doesn’t know if he would be able to sleep again with the scent of you swirling in the air of his most personal space.

He hates how easily he sees your eyes in every cluster of flora he plants at the botanical garden that he works three days a week. Yoongi feels pathetic, for latching onto the moments your give him your attention – when your eyes spark to life when he drops a plate of something steaming and spicy in your lap on his way to his bedroom, to hide from the world.

Actually, no, he’s just hiding from you and your perceptive eyes.

He does, though, slip up once and only once.

He sees you sleeping on the sofa late one night, while Jungkook and Jimin are splayed out on the floor, staring at the screen in a zombie-like fashion. The blanket has fallen off your body, dressed in some shorts and one of Jimin’s shirts that has risen because of your comfortable position. He curses the boys out for their lack of care toward you and shoves the blanket over you, bundling you up like his grandma used to do for him until not a strip of skin is exposed to the air. You woke up, only a little, and grabbed his hand, sleepily bringing it to your face to nuzzle at his fingers before you were back lightly snoring.

The boys didn’t let him live down how much he blushed for days.

You would be lying if you said that the new attention didn’t make you flush from head to toe. Seeing them, men who looked as if they belonged on the cover of magazines, standing in front of you – waiting for you, giving you things, making you laugh, smothering you in warmth – made your heart skip a beat, no matter how many times you saw it.

You fight to keep your feelings under wraps, laughing off every awkward beat of silence, pinching their cheeks when they got a little too close, explaining away their kindness as just that, simply kindness, or fastidiously avoiding alcoholic beverages lest you act of your impulses under the influence.

You were doing a good job, in your opinion, of hiding the way they made you feel, too ashamed of the intensity of your infatuation (that’s what you’d taken to calling it, as calling the fluttering in your stomach ‘real feelings’ felt too personal), of being one of the other girls – the ones who fell at their feet.

Young-mi complains from the kitchen, haphazardly applying her makeup to her cheeks, drawing you out of your reverie, “You didn’t tell me he was coming!”

“I didn’t know,” you reply, throwing your hands in the air, equally as flustered. “He just turns up!”

“God, I look like such a mess!” She complains, simultaneously putting a curler into her fringe and applying mascara to her eyes. She stares at the dancer’s body through the frosted glass of the kitchen door, the only partition between the two of you and the pinkette scanning the photos dotted around in the living room. “Why did Aunt Flow have to come now of all times? Look at the pimple of my forehead! Look! It’s the size of Jeju Island!”

You laugh at her frazzled expression and soothe her with soft coos. “You look lovely, the loveliest in fact! You’re glowing. And don’t complain! You triggered my period, so now I’m three days early.” You glance down and ask, lightly, “Could you, maybe, let my wrist go. I can’t feel my fingers.”

She does as you ask with a noise of frustration, and you rub at your chafing joints.

“You never much cared for them before,” she says, suspiciously. “Why are they hanging around you like fruit flies?”

Pausing, you stare at her and give her the stink eye. “Am I the trash in this situation?”

She nods.

“Fuck you.”

Her lips pull up in a small smile before she gets a reflective look on her face. She sits down and plays with her fingers, looking infinitely smaller. She mutters, a splash of hurt painting her tone, “Everything feels like it’s changing.”

Ducking down, you look up at her and ask, reaching for her hand and hooking one finger with her own, “What do you mean?”

“First Mei Li, now you,” she says, softly, staring at your intertwined fingers. “I don’t like it.”

Your expression falls at the mention of your absentee roommate. Instantly, the gut churning sensation that had plagued you returns, and you let out a frustrated puff of air.

You pull yourself onto the other chair and ask, letting your feet swing listlessly, “Have you heard from her at all?”

She shakes her head. “Her Mom hasn’t either.”

“I swear, when I find that loser, I’m going to peel his disgusting creepy face off,” you curse Dongwon, knowing you should have trusted your gut regarding him. “I can’t believe he convinced her to run away.”

“We don’t know that,” Young-mi denies, weakly. “All we know is that Mei Li text her Mom saying she wasn’t coming home and that she was happy.”

“What else could have happened, Young-mi?” You ask, desperately. You miss your younger friend, someone who you looked at like a little sister. She could be anywhere, doing anything – completely vulnerable after her accident. It didn’t sit right with you. “You tell me what else makes sense.”

She couldn’t, letting her head drop in frustration. “I just wish she would contact us, so we wouldn’t worry. It’s been four days already.”

Jimin makes a noise of amusement, drawing both of your attentions, and Young-mi’s cheeks pink at the sound of his cheerful giggle.

You nudge open the door with a partial frown, already suspicious. “I don’t think I like the sound of you laughing in here alone.”

Jimin is holding a framed photo of you and Young-mi from your Fresher’s Fair, both dressed in the typical get-up for the annual cancer run (pink top to toe, and you have pink glittery paint covering your whole face), and he’s in the middle of taking a picture of it on his phone.

“The boys will want to see this,” Jimin remarks, snapping multiple pictures. You feel your whole face burn in embarrassment and instantly, you are in attack mode.

“Drop the photo and delete those pictures,” you demand, swiping for the phone.

Jimin holds the phone high above his head, nudging you away with his other arm, smile practically taking over his face. “Already sent it to the group chat.”

Your phone in your back pocket vibrates repeatedly, signaling an influx of messages and you assume they’re all going to be laughing emojis from Taehyung, who you have found doesn’t stray from his phone for more than a minute.

“You’re dead, Jimin,” you threaten.

He giggles, spinning out of your hold with a grace that shouldn’t belong to anyone short of an angel, and says, “Young-mi will protect me.”

He hides behind the furiously blushing girl, holding her ahead of him as a mock-shield, ducking away from your wild swipes for his head. For a moment, over her shoulder, you see his expression falter (his brow puckers and his lip curls up, momentarily making him look borderline murderous) before he seems to freeze, taking a large step back.

“Ah, YN, I forgot I had something to do today, so I guess we’ll have to postpone our plans,” he says in a rush, practically falling over himself to get to his shoes, shoulders stiff and his fists clenched.

Confused by the sudden shift in his attitude, you ask, trailing behind him, “Are you sure you’re okay, Jiminie?”

He nods, robotically, and kicks into his shoes. He doesn’t give you your usual half-hug before he’s slamming your front door shut behind him.

“Do I smell bad or something?”

You turn to Young-mi and shake your head. “Why?”

“Because I’m sure he wasn’t breathing,” she says, voice soft with confusion. “Quick. Sniff me.”

“I’m not sniffing you, Young-mi,” you complain, but the she simply grabs you and practically rubs herself on you. “Ew! Stop molesting me! You smell fine! Great, actually.”

Satisfied, she releases you, dropping onto the couch with a huff. She crosses her arms over her chest and she glares up at you, adorably. “You have a group chat with the Bangtan Boys?”

Groaning, you throw your arm over your eyes and drown out her complaints, thinking back to Jimin’s weird behavior. Fishing out your phone, you pull up your private chat with the boys and type out your response.

You: Anybody who talks smack about my endeavors to raise money to find a cure for *cancer* clearly has no soul and shall be banished from my sight!!

Gucci Boi: You look adorable, Cutie!!

Baby Bun: He’s right, Noona! He was just teasing, right, hyung?

Nation’s Dancer: Right.

Yoon: Did somebody piss in his cereal or something?

You: Is everything okay, Jimin? You kinda… left in a hurry?

Nation’s Dancer: I’m fine, talk later.

Joon-bug: YN… Maybe talk to Jimin later? He has a lot on his plate.

You: Fine, Joonie, just make sure he eats something? We didn’t get to go for lunch.

Worldwide handsome guy: You guys were doing lunch *without* us???

Sunflower: ???

Sunflower: I’m getting real sick of being left out on the fun!

You: Well that’s TOO DAMN BAD!

Yoon: Who yells?

Letting out a small chuckle, you toss your phone away from you, turning your eyes back to your housemate, who seems to have been watching you for a while.

“You really like these boys, don’t you?” She asks, sagely. “You get this little… I don’t know, this little private smile? It’s cute.”

“I don’t know why but they’re just really sweet to me,” you explain, openly. “They’re so close, like a family, and to be a part of that – it’s addicting.”

“You should be careful,” Young-mi warns, with a gentle smile. “I want nothing but the best for you, YN, you know that? You’re my bestie. I’m just not used to you being so open with people that aren’t me, but it’s not a bad thing. I’m glad you’re opening up.”

“You mean that?”

She nods, vehemently, clutching your hand.

--------

You feel hands grip your waist, long dexterous digits digging into the soft curve of your sides, running along your ribs, experimentally.

“You’re so soft, noona ,” a familiar voice whimpers, excitement deepening his tone of voice. “Is this all for me?”

“For us, you mean,” another voice calls from your side. Hot puffs of air brush against the curve of your neck and you feel a silky tongue work along the line of your jaw, nibbling at your skin before nuzzling in. “You smell delectable, Cutie.”

“Honey,” a higher-pitched voice sing-songs, excitedly. Stubbier fingers work along your spine, pressing into the ridges of your vertebrae, teasing along the swell of your ass. “You feel so good, jagi. So… fucking… good.” He punctuates each word with a light nibble along the curve of your spine. “All ours.”

A deep rumble bubbles along your other side, where someone’s tongue is working lazily along the ridges of your ribs. “I can’t wait to fuck into your sweet, little pussy, YN. You can’t imagine how long I’ve been yearning for you.”

Letting out a sharp gasp at an intrusion at your centre, as skinny fingers skirt along your opening, missing where you need them the most.

A knowing voice asks, teasingly, “Is this where you want us, petal? In your pretty pussy?”

Nodding, blindly, you reach other, but touch nothingness. The bright light overwhelms you, and you clench your eyes shut once more, feeling pathetic and vulnerable – at their command, at their mercy, under their control. You can sense them around you, the taste of them marinating on your tongue, coating your throat and the scent of them fills your lungs, but as you reach out for them, you grip nothing but empty space.

“Don’t tease her, hyung,” a fair voice demands, pressing dry kisses at your cheeks, where tears seem to have spilled out. “You’re making her cry. I hate seeing her cry.”

The voice is so familiar that you want to reach out again, but he soothes you. “No, no, baby girl. This is all about you. Let us take care of you, okay?”

A new set of fingers dip into you, pressing in deep, until you let out a sharp noise at the intrusion. You clench around them, unconsciously, and whoever they belong to let out a low hiss at the tightening sensation. Those same fingers scissor your entrance, spreading your nether lips and setting a languid pace that has your body buzzing.

“She’s so tight inside,” a familiar voice mumbles, pressing a dry kiss to your collar, nose brushing against your jaw, affectionately. “I want to be inside her first. Can I?”

“Noona… Can you cum from just this?” A voice remarks, in wonderment. He asks, and you don't feel as if he's talking to you anymore, "Shall we try?”

A chorus of intrigued noises fills your ears, before a myriad of tongues assault your body. Your pebbled nipples, the line of your throat, the inside of your mouth, your nether entrance. You feel as if there’s not a single patch of your skin that isn’t being nibbled on, sucked at, licked with a talented, determined tongue.

You let out a groan of frustration, more hot tears spilling from your eyes, as you feel the rolling heat in your gut, but you know that without the pressure inside, the relentless pounding on hips against hips, the feeling of fullness – you won’t be able to finish.

“Our baby is getting frustrated,” the teasing voice calls, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Should I play with you some more, sunshine?”

“No,” you plead, but the sound is so quiet, you don’t know how they hear you. “P-Please, I need you.”

“Which one?”

“Any of you,” you babble, borderline incoherently. “All of you.”

“All?” They chorus, amused. Fond. So in love.

You nod, vehemently, more tears spilling over with just how honest you are being. “I don’t want to pick, I can’t. That’s not fair.”

A low chuckle sounds, echoing loudly in your head, before an explosion of noise, sound and color shatters behind your lids. Fragmented glass pings around your head and you feel as if you’re being pulled by your every limb across the universe.

-----

Blinking open your eyes, you realise, quickly, that your pillow is damp from your frustrated tears, and the space between your thighs burns in a yearning you can’t begin to explain.

After sluggishly pulling yourself out of bed, you get ready for the day, dressing for work in a skirt, tights and some boots, with your work shirt. Upon stepping outside, you instantly feel that something is off.

Looking from left to right, you realize what it is.

Hoseok hadn’t turned up outside of your place. Taehyung didn’t either, which catches you off-guard.

While you know, logically, you shouldn’t have gotten so used to having them as a crutch, you couldn’t help but fall into a routine, so not seeing them – it made your heart ache a little in your chest.

You make your way through the near empty streets, cutting into familiar alleyways to shorten the distance, towards the bus station, distractedly scanning the last messages from the group chat, wondering if something had happened to them.

Baby Bun: @/Gucci Boy Stop spamming the group with pictures of your nose pores, it’s gross!

Gucci Boi: I want YN to see them! She keeps saying that we’re perfect but look! Pores! Pores galore!

Yoon: Aren’t you a human being? Of course, you have nose pores – stop sending the pics or I might throw up

Sunflower: Wanna see mine???

You: Absolutely not!

Baby bun: NO!

Joon-bug: Please, hyung, I’m begging you not to.

Sunflower: :’((( You’re all so mean!

And then nothing, until this morning. There had been nothing that gave you the impression that they were upset with you, so you know being self-conscious is silly.

You: Morning boys!

You: Here’s a photo of my breakfast (considering you guys are determined to see everything I put into my body) of coffee and a pop-tart

You: The strawberry kind so it’s extra yummy

Then, just as you had left the house, you had sent another message that went completely ignored by everyone in the chat.

You: Hey guys! Is everything okay?

You shuffle down the street, huffing a little to yourself, ignorant of your surroundings as you scroll through the words.

A shiver runs down your spine as your subconscious senses someone behind you. Thinking it might be a stranger wanting to pass-by, you move to twist out of the way, an apology already on your lips, only to bump directly into someone’s chest.

Instantly, fear grips your heart as a vice-like grip wraps around your wrist, while the other hand winds into your hair, locking you up tight. You find yourself shoved forward into an alleyway, and while you claw at their wrists, at their chests, a scream bubbling in the back of your throat, the strength behind the assaulter’s grip in your hair threatens to snap your neck in half.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll cut your throat,” a deep voice hisses into your ear.

The warning is followed by a tightening of the hand in your hair. You don’t recognize the tone of voice at all, it sounds more like a rough, angry growl, the words garbled and mismatched, and your mind is whirring too quickly to make sense of anything outside of the fact that your life was in absolute danger.

You rear up, trying to scream but before you can get it out, his (you can tell it’s a man’s body) hand covers your mouth with a cloth soaked in something damp and the strong smell makes your eyes sting and your throat burns from inhaling the fumes.

The last thing you can remember before your world turns black is the heavy smell of cologne and a familiar blood-red tie.

- end -

Masterlist / Chapter (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16)

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