#bts chaptered fic

[taestefully-in-luv]

Our Time | JJK (Seven)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: seriously depressing (for now) swearing, mentions of alcoholism, allusions to cheating

a/n: Hiiiiiii, long time no see!! Sorry for the delay and thank you for waiting. This story is at a depressing point (lol) so forgive me! I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter too 🥺 Well, I hope you guys enjoy and  please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

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An eternity has passed since you’ve last seen Jungkook…a total of six weeks. Each day has gotten equally harder as it has gotten easier. You think it’s just your body slowly getting used to his absence but your mind is yearning. Yearning and hurting.

But there is something that’s also painful like missing your ex-husband—your best friend—and it’s the videos of your life. A life you know nothing of. 

If you thought pictures were hard, videos are much harder.

But you asked for this. You asked your parents and your friends to send you old pictures and videos of times you don’t remember living.

You’re seeing pictures of you and your friends in restaurants you don’t know. Bars you don’t know. Concerts for artists you don’t know. Pictures of you in your bedroom, but it’s a bedroom you don’t know. 

You have haircuts and styles you don’t know.

In the videos, you hear yourself laughing at inside jokes you don’t know. You’re using vocab and slang you don’t know. You see yourself giggling and joking around with people you. don’t. know. And you feel more like an outsider than ever. Not just to this world but to the girl you see on screen, you are an outsider to herworld. 

Perhaps you’ve gotten too use to separating your different selves. And perhaps that makes it harder to unite with them.

Past you is current you but current you thinks of current you as future you. 

It’s all a headache to think about. 

You know they’re all you but because you’ve kept them separate, it’s somehow becoming the shackles that stops all the you’s from uniting. 

And that’s what needs to happen for all of your memories to return. You have to unite 24 year old you and 33 year old you. It’s only your sanity on the line.

Now that you’ve discovered a couple of things, the only way to go from here is to intentionally spark your memories—in any way. You have to. Because you know 33 year old you has started something...

You quickly tear your eyes from the video on screen to take a quick peak towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You’ve visited the attic a few times because of all of the memories that are stored in there.

But those boxes are filled with more than just memories.

Your eyes go back to your phone in hand as your thumb hesitantly hovers over the screen. You know you should move on to another video but it almost feels like you don’t have it in you. You don’t have it in you to stop listening to the sound of your child’s laughter when you can’t recognize it.

You don’t have it in you to stop the possibility of triggering your brain to suddenly remember him. 

You finally force your thumb to the screen and you quickly pause it. You take in a sharp breath before exiting the video to scroll through the five videos your mom sent you. You see Haru in all five. And you can see Jungkook in three of them. You chose one where you couldn’t see Jungkook. 

But this video of Haru’s giggles feels just as heartbreaking but more than anything, it feels frustrating. Because you don’t know him. 

And that feels like an unbearable heartache on its own.

Suddenly, your eyes bounce from the video thumbnails to the text your mom just sent you.

Mom 7:28am

Good morning! We’re our way to the station and should arrive in Seoul around 2pm. You’re still picking us up, right?

You slowly close your already drooping eyes, the moment way too brief before you open them again, glancing towards the living room windows where the obvious sunlight comes through. Another night you didn’t sleep. Your eyes battling your brain. You might get a few hours if you try to sleep now, at the least. 

~

“I just don’t understand how you can drink those all day,” Your mother’s eyes go from the knife in her hand to the iced coffee in yours. “I know it’s got to be giving you heartburn.” She laughs a little while shaking her head, eyes going back down to the cutting board where she chops onions.

You blink at your mom before dropping your eyes to the coffee in your hand, “Wait, is this why?” 

She chuckles again, “Must be from your dads side of the family.” She shrugs now, letting the onions slide off the board and into a pan.

You roll your eyes at your moms playful comment before sliding the coffee away from you as you sit at your kitchen island, “Anyway, dad’s kind of taking a while, no?” You glance around the kitchen as if he would suddenly appear here. 

Your mom smiles to herself while her hands remain busy with cooking dinner, “Yeah, he’s waiting for me to text him saying he can come back from the store.”

You can’t help but snort since you know exactly what she means.

Back when you were a teenager and going through life’s woes that made the whole world feel like it was ending, you would have your meltdowns. Period cramps that made you moody, a friend talking behind your back, the boy you liked was seen kissing someone else. All the things your dad left your mom to handle. He would suddenly want to go to the store and she would somehow signal him when it was safe to return—after the two of you got to talk out whatever was bothering you.

You realize she’s done it now.

“You never used to take this long to tell me what was going on though.” Your mom says quietly, eyes trained on the stove.  “Especially not about Jungkook.” She sighs as she reaches for the wooden spoon before stirring the ingredients. 

You feel something sharp inside your chest, just at the mention of his name, like there’s a sharp knife.

You turn your face to the side, something uncomfortable and electric tightens your jaw. As if it’s a burning signal that even the mere mention of Jungkook, makes you want to cry. But you won’t. “Well, mom.” You take a deep breath before looking towards her again with a sarcastic smile. “Our marriage wasn’t exactly as perfect as you thought.”

You hope this is enough for her to realize that Haru’s disappearance wasn’t the wedge that created such distance between you and your now, ex-husband. 

You stare at the back of your mom’s head as she stands at the stove, still cooking. You wonder if she’s in utter shock at the revelation that perhaps Jungkook isn’t perfect. And your marriage definitely wasn’t. You wait and wait. But you see how she starts adding in a few other things.

“I said—”

“—What marriage is perfect?” Your mom finally turns around, cutting you off with a raised brow. “I never thought that. I’ll never think that. About anyone.” She scoffs before turning towards the stove again. “I told you that you didn’t usually take this long to talk about Jungkook with me.”

You don’t say anything.

Your mom turns her head towards you for a moment, you see the corner of her lip barely start to lift, like a knowing smile wants to form but her frown decides not to budge, “You were married to him for years…you don’t think you’ve come to complain to me?”

You understand her almost smirk now. She faces forward towards the stove again.

“Maybe around six months before Haru’s…incident. You came to Busan and I could tell something was up and you needed to talk.” Your mom rests a hand on her hip, while the other reaches for the stove knob as she turns it down. “But just like now…” She turns her head to eye you again, her worries pulling her lips into a deeper frown. “You took a while to tell me.”

You don’t really react. Not as your brain processes this information.

Your mom continues, “So I know your marriage wasn’t perfect. Jungkook’s not perfect. You’re not perfect.” She exhales through her nose in a half laugh. “I’m not perfect. Your father’s not either. But what’s between us…it has to be protected.” 

“Unless that person betrays you.” You say in a low voice, eyes going to your fingers as you pick at your cuticles. “And you lose your trust in them.”

You hear your mom at the stove again as she turns it off and puts the lid on the pan. After a moment you see your mother in your peripherals as she comes to the other side of the counter and sits next to you. 

“You mentioned something similar back then.” She says quietly, her face looking ahead. “But then I thought…well, that you thought it wasn’t what you thought.”

You quickly turn your head in your moms direction, eyes on hers. What all did you say to her? “Well, it was.” You say firmly. 

Your mom’s eyebrows pull together slowly, something similar to confliction rising in her eyes. “And how exactly did Jungkook betray you?” She asks after a moment.

And it feels pathetic, the feeling of all the muscles in your face betraying your collected appearance. So pathetic that the answer to this question makes your expression twist and break off the cracking mask that is now crumbling and falling from your face. 

It takes less than an instant for your heartbreak to be written all over. 

Your mom puts a hand to your back, letting you cry it out. 

Just like you did when you were a moody teenager and the only one who understood your meltdowns was your mom. She lets you know that once again, that no matter how small or how big—you had every right to feel the way you wanted to. 

You cry, a soft pat repeating on your back as you mumble how sad you are and how embarrassing this is. 

This short cry feels more like relief in the right company rather than something that is rocking your world in the worst way.

Your mom chuckles a little, pulling away from you. “Embarrassing?”

“Yeah.” You nod with a shameless smile and damp cheeks. “I know you know the me that’s been married to him for years but in my eyes we’ve been on one date and he was our neighbor. So I feel like you should be teasing me about us but you’re here with more knowledge about my marriage than me.” You laugh as you cry more, “So it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Hm,” Your mom chuckles again, “I guess I can understand that.”

You nod while your fingers wipe beneath your eyes repeatedly, they’re only teary now.

Your mom brings her hand away from you, her fingers intertwining on top of the counter. You watch as she stares down at her hands in thought before she finally sighs and turns your way with a small smile. “Talk to me, y/n. You’re convinced Jungkook betrayed you in some way—ways I can only assume—but tell me, do you really think he’s capable of what you’re thinking?”

You study your mother’s expression for a long moment, brows beginning to furrow when you realize she doesn’t buy it. Tearing your eyes away from her, your lips twist in annoyance, “Are you saying I shouldn’t believe in my own memories?”

You hear your mom sigh again, “You remembered something unpleasant, y/n. I’m not saying I don’t believe you…but even back then,” She pauses, hoping you will look at her but you don’t. She finally continues, “Things just didn’t add up…”

You’re quick to find her eye again, “What all did I tell you?”

At this, your mother scoffs lightly, her small smile still on her lips. “Nothing that really made sense. Seemed like you just…couldn’t tell me things. But I’m not dumb, you know? You drop plenty of hints when you get talking.”

“Oh.” You blink at her, wishing you could even remember whatever hints she’s referring to. 

“But the issue is that you stopped talking. You got quiet.” Your mother looks back at her hands again, her gaze hardening. “Then when Haru’s incident happened…you shut us all out. Everyone…” She whispers, lines between her brows forming, a hint of disappointment in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Even Jungkook.”

You can’t help but feel that same knife start slicing open the inside of your chest at the mention of his name again. “Probably because it’s his fau—”

“—He lost Haru too, y/n.” Your mom cuts you off, her eyes that are filled with something close to anger land on you. “You both did and what’s worse is that you both lost one another in the process.”

“I don’t remember the process but I’m sure I had a hard time even looking him in the eye.” You spit out. “You don’t know what happ—”

“—Do you?” She throws back at you. “Because you have yet to give me a story that makes even a little sense.”

Your heart starts screaming like someone just squeezed it way too hard. You force yourself to look away because tears that no one invited start to form. You feel done with this conversation but before you can announce its over, your mom sighs again and her palm rests against your back and you don’t have it in you to shove her off.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters softly, almost sounding regretful. “I am. You have no idea…” You feel her hand slowly retreat from your back, “How sometimes I would just pray you wouldn’t get your memories back. So you wouldn’t…” 

Your mother’s voice grows much softer, almost too quiet to hear. 

“Seeing you heartbroken all over again hurts us, y/n. I thought it would be easier…for you. But I guess it’s just easier for us.” She admits, a sharpness in her tone that indicates her regret. “There’s no way you would live happier if parts of you felt missing.” 

You feel her words stick to your skin uncomfortably, like sweat from the hot sun rather than a run you worked for. It’s unpleasant but also unwelcomed. 

Unwelcomed because you don’t want to accept a life where that could be the case—forced to live a life even with parts of you missing.

An uncomfortable reality and possibility.

“More than…” You begin, hands lifting to gesture towards nothing. “This is more than just Jungkook.”

Your mom chuckles to herself. “Of course I know that.”

“I’m starting to wonder what would feel worse,” You glance towards your empty hands before your fingers clutch nothing softly. “Remembering my child. Or not remembering my child.” Then your lips curl into a half smile that feels so empty as you silently cringe toward yourself, “It doesn’t even feel right saying ‘my’…” you immediately halt, teeth suddenly piercing into your bottom lip. You don’t even feel right calling Haru ‘your’ child. Because you don’t feel like his mother.

You try to keep the half smile plastered on your face but the sharp shock of tears that fill your eyes betray your wants. You quickly blink them away.

“I want to hate Jungkook so bad for so many reasons,” You admit before clearing your throat, “But I mostly hate him because at least he would recognize our sons laugh while I don’t. I hate him because I blame him but at least he knows the kid that I hate him for.” 

Also an uncomfortable reality. 

“Well,” Your mothers tone lets you know she’s about to change the subject. “You had a doctor’s appointment recently, right? How did it go?”

You shake your head, “He said the progress can be really slow…and that it’s normal for the brain to block out certain traumatic events. So much…” You pause.

“So much what?”

You sigh, “So much doesn’t make sense. It has me feeling so restless.”

“I’m sorry.” Your mom releases a shaky breathy before you hear her voice crack. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know what’s the worst part?” You decide to keep the venting session going. “I just feel ashamed. I’m a parent but I don’t even know about it. I feel so lost. I don’t think if I was given a child I could—”

“This doesn’t make you less of a mother, y/n.” Your mom snaps her eyes in your direction, a fierceness in them. “You are still a parent. A damn good one at that.”

You study your mother’s expression with a fondness, because you see her sincerity. This makes your eyes sting again. “Thanks, mom.”

~

After a nice weekend with your parent’s, you decide you’ve been resting enough. You want to start working again, having too much time on your hands seems like a problem nowadays. You find yourself back at that new café.

“I’ll take a honey lavender latte.” You tell the girl at the counter, her eyes immediately widening before she nods her head in approval.

“Great choice. A personal fav.” She grins before continuing, “And I make it the best.” 

A new voice joins in from behind, startling you. “Make that two.” A man says. You quickly turn around, eyes rising towards the same man you spilled coffee on. “Oh, it’s you.”

He brings a hand to his heart, “I’m a you? That means you remember me!” He smiles at you, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. 

You bite your lip, guilt sinking in from the last time. “Well, I thought you were gonna press charges for burning you last time. So, I guess I would remember.”

He looks taken aback, his eyes going round. “Press charges?” Then he laughs, “No, no. I wouldn’t do that, who wants to deal with cops, anyway?” 

“Just the two lattes?” The girl at the counter speaks up in a sing song voice and you immediately spin in your spot to apologize to her but the man beats you to it while he pulls out his wallet.

“Should we get a cookie too?” He asks you, his head tilting a little and you start shaking your head. “You sure?” He smiles.

You’re the one taken aback. This guy is too kind. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone.

“Seokjin, you are going to buy us out again.” The girl sighs as she smiles before glancing at you. “He ordered us all out just yesterday.”

“It was for the elderly! You know they get a little cranky if they don’t get something a little sweet to eat! Hasn’t it brought more customers? You could say thank you.” He gets playfully defensive, pout on his lips and the girl gives a shrug while nodding. “Well, it does make my boss happy. And if he’s happy,” She leans over the counter and whispers. “It’s a better day for everyone.” Then she giggles.

“See!” Seokjin crosses his arms like he’s still offended. “I’m just trying to help you all have a better day!”

You guess he is this nice to everyone.

And before you know it, he’s taking out his card and paying for the drinks. You realize it but it’s too late.

“You didn’t have to pay for that…” You mumble, hand paused on your own wallet. “But thank you.”

“Hopefully you’ll have an even better day too.” He smiles at you and it feels warm. 

You take a moment to get a good look at him and you realize just how handsome he is. You remember his chest and broad shoulders from last time but now you see just how full and plump his lips are but you also like his brown eyes. 

He smiles at you again.

You’re staring.

“See you around, I guess.” Seokjin puts his wallet back into his back pocket before walking off towards a table near a window. 

You know his name but he doesn’t know yours and that feels a little bit like a shame.

But there’s no time for harmless nice guys giving you warm smiles. You’re here to work. Or actually here to retrain yourself on how to do your work. 

Your job agreed to help you relearn everything so today, you’re going to sit at a table and get trained. And the girl you knew from college that works at your job will be in contact with you if you have any questions. Mijoo. Apparently you two were a bit acquainted before you started working from home. 

When you find a table near the bookshelves, you get to work. There’s updates on old programs you were familiar with but there’s new ones too. Plus, the market is a bit different. It’s a lot to learn but you think you’ll get the hang of it quickly. Just like you did back in the day when you were just starting out.

Two hours or more has passed and you’re buried in your work. But you see a man in your peripherals and a cookie wrapped in parchment paper suddenly on the table right next to your laptop.

You look up and Seokjin gives you that same warm smile before it turns sheepish. “I ended up ordering two for myself a little while ago but I’m too full. You can have it. Well…well, only if you want it, of course.”

You blink up at him before you look at the cookie. 

“It’s okay, if you don’t!”

Your eyes go to him again and you shake your head before you give him your own smile. “No, no!” You tell him quickly, “I-I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Oh.” His lips form the perfect ‘o’ and he gives you a nod. “Nice. See ya.” And he’s smiling again before walking out of the café.

His entire aura is warm and you realize you appreciate people like him even more now. With how cold life has been.

~

After a long day of sitting at the café, you’re now sitting on the floor of your dusty attic. It’s gotten easy to figure out which boxes were stored here by your own hands and which boxes are the ones that Jungkook packed up to avoid you seeing your life. It’s mostly obvious because Jungkook’s packing is much more organized than yours. 

You wonder if this box of framed photos in front of you is so neat because he looked at each one slowly, taking his time as he looked at the memories he knew you wouldn’t remember. 

You wonder if he took his time because he misses Haru.

And because he missed you.

You manage to conceal a bitter scoff as you lift your foot and push it flat against the box, forcing it back a few inches. Your concern isn’t Jungkook right now. Stop thinking about him. Stop looking at your photos with him. Stop looking at the life you lived with him.

Right now those are your priority.

A strained sigh leaves your mouth as you eye the boxes you’ve dragged to the other side of the attic. You’ve been trying to organize everything in here so you know what’s what. Eyes slide to the left where all your household memories are. Then they slowly drag across the attic, passing by an old, dusty desk to the right side where your personal mystery boxes are.

It’s taken a few days to really separate everything. Because this attic has more than just some boxes of memories and boxes of mysteries. It also has a few too many creepy crawlers hanging in the corners. And things you’re sure 33 year old you wanted to sell and get rid of. 

Buzz.

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to your phone when it lights up and vibrates the attic floor, already seeing that it’s another message from Misuk in the group chat with her and Subin. 

Last you checked they were gushing over a new song from an artist they like who you barely even know so you don’t rush to really look. Your eyes stay on the screen until the light dims and it goes black.

You’d be lying if you said you wish you didn’t have help. Someone to guide you to some answers.

Another strained sigh before a half assed chuckle barely rumbles in your chest.

Well, ‘someone’ could guide you to some answers. And that someone is 33 year old you but unfortunately you don’t understand majority of what you’ve found. As if only parts of the puzzle are in these boxes, just edges and corner pieces and you’re missing all the pieces that fill everything in. 

Your eyes still linger on the black screen as they begin to lose focus as your mind whirls into your endless list of questions again. The boxes of mysteries are only three boxes. One of them having nothing to do with your son, you think. But the other two have caused some concern.

Something tells you that 33 year old you is really not convinced that your son is dead.

It’s clear you were investigating on your own. But your notes barely make sense. And it is more than fucking frustrating. 

You’re about to close your eyes and groan but your phone suddenly lights up again as you feel a slight vibration next to your foot. It’s another text but it doesn’t look like its apart of the group chat.

You squint at the screen but it’s too far to really read anything so you finally give in and reach for the device and bring it closer to your face. And then you feel the sudden thump in your lower belly where your heart just landed.

Jungkook 9:19pm

How are you doing?

A razor sharp sting tightens every muscle in your body, the sudden tension making your breaths stop.

More than a month and a half since you’ve last seen and spoken to him and he’s finally said something to you. 

Finally because as much as you hate him, his existence makes you breathe. And you have to breathe to live. 

Buzz.

Your hand vibrates along with your phone and you suddenly clench your fingers around it. 

Jungkook 9:19pm

I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. 

Your heart suddenly leaps up into your throat, choking you a bit as you try to breathe. Is that a confession? It already bothers you that he barely tried to explain himself and now he’s been silent all this time. And now he’s apologizing? He’s guilty, isn’t—

Buzz.

Jungkook 9:20pm

I just wish you would talk to me y/n…

That concealed scoff from earlier has finally broken free, pushing past your lips in something like disgust. Talk to him? Talk to him? You feel an uncomfortable anger start poking your skin from the inside and you squeeze your phone harder in you hand. The fucking audacity. 

There’s a brief moment when you consider chucking your phone across the attic but fortunately you only slam it to the floor. Frustration still hot on your skin, you quickly reach for a worn out decorative pillow and hurl it in front of you with a lot of strength, knocking against the old desk as it wobbles for a moment.

You release a short puff of air, head lowering and eyes closing as you try to calm yourself. You’ll admit, it did feel kind of good to release some en—

Thump.

Your eyes snap open as you tilt your head up towards the desk where the sudden sound just came. Did something fall inside? But what? You had checked the desk before. The top drawer only had a few pens and some sticky notes while the bottom drawer was empty minus some loose sheets of printer paper. And the left side of the desk is just two empty book shelves. It is basically empty.

It was probably nothing. 

You’re about to move on, mind already wanting to go back to Jungkook when the sudden thump just can’t make sense. Something with some weight definitely fell in or on the desk, right? But you’re sure there’s nothing from when you checked the other week. 

Doesn’t hurt to look again, you decide. Maybe this is your intuition talking to you.

You finally lift yourself from the attic floor, giving one last look at the boxes that are filled with your life with Jungkook and Haru before heading towards the middle where the desk is. It’s got an impressive layer of dust that you haven’t found any real reason to clean since the desk isn’t something you’d visit often. 

Giving in, you reach for the top drawer and open it, just like you had the other week, but just like last time, the drawer only has three pens, some used sticky notes with doodles and numbers lying around and one black marker. 

You knew there was nothing. Shutting the drawer, you quickly open the bottom drawer. It’s a deeper space, like you could fit a small filing cabinet. But instead, there’s only a few loose sheets of blank printer paper. 

Not convinced, you shove your hand inside the drawer, feeling around for anything strange and even trying to reach behind but you’re met with nothing. Okay. You step away from the desk for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously because you’re certain something with more weight than any of those things fell. And fell here. 

There’s nothing else here besides this raggedy pillow. You glance down at it, the pathetic thing on the floor before you groan, kicking it away from you. 

So what? You just imagine all kinds of things now? Is that the new normal? 

Suddenly not minding the thick layer of dust, you lean forward in defeat, hands gripping the edge of the desk as you support some of your weight onto it but the desk wobbles forward on its probably broken, unsteady legs. And you know you don’t imagine it when something with some weight definitely shifts inside. 

“Uh, what was that…?” You mumble to yourself, eyebrows coming together slowly as you take another look at the desk. Your eyes immediately fall to the left side where the two empty shelves are. It definitely came from this side.

You quickly squat down, eyes trained on the shelves, inspecting every single inch of the empty and terribly dusty space. “Don’t tell me…” You whisper, expression highly focused as you look at the back panel of the shelves. The shelving space is not nearly as deep as of the width of the desk. 

You blink at it, breaths now falling from your lips faster as your fingers quickly go to touch the backing panel and when it wiggles freely with enough pressure, you know you’ve found something. Feeling impatient, you jostle the thin wood around until you can figure out how to remove it.

And when it starts poking through the side of the shelf, your heart starts racing while you quickly slide the panel through the wooden desk. You feel it. Maybe it’s instinct because somewhere in your brain you know this is familiar and means something. The panel drops to the floor once its slid out but before it even touches, your hands are already digging inside.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You repeat with shaky breaths. Fingers already grasping what’s here and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious. A shoe box. An open shoe box that’s close to overflowing. You pull it out while you sit down onto the floor, the box settling right in front of you.

“Okay,” You sigh, reaching for the first item on top. It’s a small note book, the kind you’d use to make a check list of sorts. You take a deep breath before flipping it open and a few loose contents fall out. And then you feel the breath of a ghost at the base of your neck.

You pick up a folded sheet of paper along with a bent photo of Nabi. You feel the cold breath travel down your spine as you unfold the paper and read what’s written in someone else’s handwriting. 

Yun Nabi

118, Seolleungro-150, Yongsan-gu, Seoul 

 010-6203-3087

 010 3476 9876àweekends

010 9874 3456 new ##

You stare down at the worn paper, confusion clouding your mind. You want to rip her photo to shreds.

You quickly glance to the bent photo in your other hand and before you tell your hand what to do, it’s already crumbling it. Your dark gaze set on the now wrinkled woman who managed to gain Jungkook’s attention. 

Maybe it’s not her fault if she’s great.

Maybe it’s your fault. 

Your eyes stay trained on the crumbled photo but they’ve lost focus once again. Soon the balled up picture and the folded note fall to your lap as Numbness hugs you over your shoulders and as Insecurity sits next to you and whispers into your ear. 

Why did Jungkook cheat on you? 

You manage to blink but your throat feels dry.

Why did he do that to you? Why would anyone…?

You want to laugh at yourself. Because you know if this happened to anyone else you would know it wasn’t their fault. The person who cheated…it’s about them and no one else. And you want to tell yourself this, remind yourself, confirm that this isn’t your fault. 

But why do you sit here, letting Numbness hug you tighter? And why do you sit here and wonder?

You wonder…you wonder where you went wrong that you were no longer enough for him.

And it doesn’t feel fair that you’re wondering that.

You take the photograph and crumple it even more before throwing it to the side and decide to open the notebook. And you see more puzzle pieces. 

Routine

7 he wakes up….sometimes 8 

Jungkook takes him to work sometimes for fun 

Someone at work?? Who? Another list

Daycare usually Mondays & Thursdays for sure

Busiest days at work

You flip the page

Thursday the 14th, at the bus station, 

The 18th when I was going home

There was a car parked outside on the street for 3 days

The 5th

The 8th

The 12th I ran into someone who knew me but I didn’t know them

A man with buzzed hair

Something hot bubbles inside your chest and it feels like it’s burning you. Anxiety has a touch of fire. You flip to the next page.

It just scribbles like you were frustrated.

Just like you are now. 

You decide to close to the notebook. Discomfort swallowing you like a dry pill. 

But you don’t stop looking through the box. Pictures of people you don’t know. More lists of times and dates. But no context. More frustration building. 

Your head snaps up suddenly when you recall something falling so you quickly reach inside the secretive hole in the desk and feel around. Your fingers grasp at nothing until something cold is felt. You can tell what it is immediately as you wrap your fingers around the device. A phone. 

You take the cold, shiny device in your clammy hands and rush to turn it on but it’s got a dead battery. You turn the phone upside down to check what kind of charger it takes and remember that downstairs in the kitchen there’s a drawer of random charging cables. 

You need to get this thing turned on. Now. 

“Are you okay?” You immediately straighten your back, phone dropping to the attic floor,  the sudden voice a shock since you live alone. You quickly look around you, eyes darting from place to place but of course, there’s no one here. You feel sick. Especially because…didn’t that voice sound like—

“Are you okay?” Jungkook comes next to you, his eyes avoiding yours but he can’t hide the concern in his voice. You look at him, equally annoyed as he is. But still, you hear in his voice he doesn’t totally hate you. 

“It’s fine.” You mumble, fingers picking at the bandage wrapped around your palm. “It just got scraped.”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly, “Misuk said Subin threw up in her mouth because of the blood.”

You shrug, “Okay, it was pretty bad.”

Jungkook stays silent and the same tension that’s been building since Sana’s wedding is here again. You, Jungkook, Misuk and Subin came to Busan for the weekend to celebrate your mom’s birthday but today, the day of the party, has been anything but fun. One thing after the other, but the cherry on top was around 20 minutes ago when you accidentally sliced your palm open while helping in the kitchen.

Now you’re outside trying to cool off but the last person you want to see has come to check on you.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook stares up at the tree you two are standing in front of outside your house. He doesn’t bother to try and soften his tone. Sure, it’s concerned but it’s also irritated.

“I told you it’s fine.” You answer, sounding clipped. “Just go back inside.”

“You’re mad at me if I’m inside. You’re mad at me if I’m outside.” He stuffs his hands in his front jean pockets and continues gazing at the tall tree. “I really don’t understand why you’re so up—”

“—Oh? You don’t?” You turn your head to glare at him, “Really?”

You watch Jungkook’s profile, his jaw tightening for a moment before he sighs out.

“I don’t know.” He tells you before turning to face you as well. Your eyes are narrowed but he sees plenty of disappointment in them. “Maybe I do. But I also seriously don’t.”

You look down to the ground, a moment of consideration because you kind of understand him. But then you recall last night and realize that no, he definitely should understand why you’re mad.

Things have changed between you two. Ever since Sana’s wedding, there’s been something different and enticing. Moments that feel way too charged to be platonic. But neither of you have spoken up about it. Maybe he’s afraid you don’t feel it. Or maybe you’re now just realizing you’re afraid he is the one who doesn’t feel it.

Because how doesn’t he understand that having his last serious girlfriend from Busan in your parents living room while they flirt with one another relentlessly in front of you, is not going to make you mad?

“You don’t think flirting with your ex-girlfriend in front of me wasn’t going to make me mad, Jungkook?” You throw the words at him without much care for his reaction. It’s an honest question, in your book.

“Okay,” Jungkook tilts his head back before running his hands through his hair, “So this is about Hanja.” He groans a little before giving in and taking a step closer to you. “I didn’t think it was a big deal…and you call her my ex girl-friend as if she doesn’t have a name. Hanja told me she had a lot of classes with you in High School!”

“And?” You deadpan. “Doesn’t make us friends.”

“Okay.” He nods but now he’s the one with disappointment in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you had to be rude.”

“You invited her to my mom’s birthday party!” You throw back, “And have barely even…” It sucks that your voice gets a little softer because you just want to make a point. “You’ve barely even  looked at me since she’s been here.” 

Jungkook’s lips part and he looks conflicted as he registers your words but you don’t wait for him to get it before you continue.

“Sure,” You manage a stubborn shrug, “Maybe you’re not flirting with her but you don’t stop her when she does with you.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, “She hasn’t flirted with me, y/n.” He tries to assure you, his tone finally not irritated but instead the same soft as yours. “We just have history, you know? But that was what? 5 years ago? 6? 7? I don’t even know. We ended on good terms so I thought it was harmless. She’s in town too and had nothing to do…I didn’t think it was a big deal.” 

“I just…” You finally meet his eye for the first time more willingly, “I don’t know.” 

He finally relaxes his features and a pleasantly pleased smile starts tugging at the corner of his lips, “You’re…jealous.” He confirms softly.

You raise a brow at him, feeling annoyed. “So then you do understand why I’m mad.” 

“Yeah.” He agrees but you see the uncertainty in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure. Maybe hoping but I couldn’t be sure, you know?” 

“Did you want me to be jealous?” You ask, unsure how that makes you feel but you see genuine and quiet panic all over his face while he shakes his head.

“No, no.” He tells you with big eyes. “But when I realized you were mad at me, I thought it could be because you were jealous. And,” He pauses, swallowing what you think is nerves. “That’s why I became hopeful, I guess.” 

“And why is that?” A cool breeze suddenly picks up and it feels nice against your cheeks.

“Because it might mean…” His words grow quieter, seeking your understanding of where he was going. “But without being direct…well, I can’t really be sure, you know?”

“Then why can’t we be direct?” You gesture between your bodies, “I like you, Jungkook.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to say it, to admit it, but it does take a lot of effort to not tear your eyes away from him in embarrassment. But your gaze remains on his. 

“And there’s no way I’m imagining—”

“—You aren’t!” Jungkook panics, his fingers flying to your wrists, holding on to them as he persuades your eyes to remain on his again. “You aren’t imagining it. I know it, too.” He tells you but he looks and sounds conflicted.

“For months, Jungkook.” You say quietly, “I’ve been wondering for months if you’re going to make a real move on me.” 

He can’t help but smile at you nervously, his clammy fingers still pressing into your wrists. “I just…” Jungkook’s smile begins dropping as he explains himself, “…I’m so afraid of talking about this because it might change our friendship and you’re just,” He pauses, eyes searching yours because he needs to see if you understand. “You’re too important, y/n.” 

“You’d rather never tell me how you feel because it might change our friendship?” You ask him, ignoring the fire burning along the edges of your skin. “You would rather spend forever just wondering if I feel the same as you? Just like I’ve been wondering if you feel the same as me? Too afraid to talk about it because it…might change our friendship?”

Jungkook’s fingers finally disconnect from your skin and into his hair, his nerves only multiplying but he finds the courage to say, “If you didn’t feel the same, things would change.”

“If I didn’t feel the same then things wouldn’t have changed in the first place. Jungkook, things have already changed. And I don’t like wondering. We’re already past platonic so I’ll tell you—”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding.

A new memory unlocked. 

And it only makes you sit on your attic floor and cry.

Great timing.

~

Your fingers feel frozen, maybe even numb as you dig through another random kitchen drawer to find the correct charger for the phone you’ve found. So far you haven’t been lucky. Then again, nothing feels lucky. You’ve been quiet to yourself all day after last night. Not even a thought out loud. 

Your eyes grow watery again but you immediately slam your lids shut, squeezing tightly because you refuse to shed anymore tears. You might have to buy a new charger but you really aren’t in the mood to leave the house. You aren’t in the mood for anything except maybe hurling more old, worn out, decorative pillows at dusty furniture. But now you feel afraid for what you might find. The more mysteries you unlock, you’re afraid to unlock a memory along with it. 

It's evening now, the kitchen clock says 6:13pm. The day has gone by. You watched the sun rise this morning and now you’re witnessing it set. You have yet to find it in you to sleep today. Maybe you’re afraid you’ll slip into your bed that you once shared with Jungkook and suddenly you’ll remember all the times you’ve slept in it with him. You can’t afford any more of that. Just yesterday you were begging 33 year old you to share some of the life you’ve missed and now that she is sharing some of the years…you’re realizing you aren’t ready. 

You take a deep breath, shutting a drawer shut when you decide to order a new charging cable for the phone. Your eyes slide to the device that rests peacefully on the counter while your heart beats uncomfortably in your throat. You stare at it, wondering what contents lie inside but a part of you feels fearful of what you might find. 

Taking another breath, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself for a moment before you decide to take care of this. Sitting yourself at the kitchen island, opening your laptop, you search the phone and get the cable ordered for delivery tomorrow. This is better than driving yourself nuts trying to find it.

You close your eyes, resting your head down to the counter, wishing you could turn your day around.

Ding Dong.

Your eyes snap open. 

And something unsettling starts whirling in your belly. As if you can sense who is at your door.

Knock Knock Knock.

You groan quietly to yourself because you just know. You know exactly who it is for some insane reason. You just feel it. You stand from the stool and walk yourself to your front door. Swinging it open without even peeping through the hole to confirm your suspicions. 

Jungkook’s doesn’t look too good. For as handsome as he is, he looks rough. His skin is dry, his lips are pale and the bags under his eyes give away how much sleep he isn’t getting. You don’t care though. Not about him. Your fingers grip around the door frame tighter, your skin burning at the sight. 

“I just wanted to see how you were.” He tells you, voice so quiet you had to read his lips.  You want to scoff bitterly in his face, shut him out and make him feel thrown away. 

But your foot pushes the front door further open as you turn around to go into the living room. You’ve invited him in. Though, ‘invited’ feels like a strong word. 

You can hear the door creak open even furth from behind you, shoes are shuffling onto the floor and the door clicks shut. You hold your breath as you walk to the sofa, sitting yourself down at the very end of it as your eyes glue themselves to the black screen of the TV. 

Jungkook follows your lead and sits at the other end of the couch. In your peripherals, he looks like a big, black scribble of a thousand swirling lines and you don’t have it in you to focus your eyes on him and let him appear as Jungkook. As a person. So, you keep your eyes on the TV.

Nothing is said between you both for a long while, all your senses are heightened though as you anticipate his next words to you. The hairs on your arms rise when the click of the AC goes off as it turns on. You wonder if his next words have to do with apologizing about cheating on you. Apologize to you that you just couldn’t be enough. Apologize to you for losing your son. 

Your head slightly tilts in the direction of the kitchen when you notice the soft drip drops of water from the faucet. The distant bark from a small dog. Jungkook’s fingernails scratching his forearm. Every noise is going off in your ears, haunting you, taunting you and driving you insane. 

You only want to hear his voice. 

“Why are you here?” You finally break the noisy silence. 

“To see you.” He says, voice quiet and afraid. “You’re doing better than me, huh?”

Your palms are flat against the couch cushion before you slowly curl your fingers, grabbing nothing of the material at his words. “Do you really think you get to say that to me?”

“This isn’t fair for either of us, y/n.” Jungkook has the audacity to keep speaking. “You just don’t understand.”

You twist your head to eye him, your jaw tight as you watch him sit on the sofa, eyes cowering away from yours. “You’ll stop talking now.” You tell him as your voice becomes quiet and afraid as well. You’re livid but you speak like you’re hurt. 

“Then…” Jungkook pauses, his eyes going all around the living room now before he sighs. “Then I’ll just listen.”

You push your head back in disbelief, “I didn’t ask you to come here so I can talk to you. In fact, I didn’t ask you to come here at all.”

He finally turns his head toward you, his eyes are red and watery and you hate that you hate seeing him on the verge of tears. You watch his throat as you pay attention to the hard way he swallows. “I know. But I had to see you.” 

Suddenly, your head starts pounding, a harsh banging from inside your forehead. You quickly let your head fall into your hands when those words keep repeating inside your mind. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. 

You groan into your hands. The pain erupting on all sides of your head. The words repeating over and over, making your ears feel like they’re bleeding. I know. But I had to see you.

“y/n?” You hear Jungkook’s quiet and afraid voice. 

I know. But I had to see you. 

“I thought you didn’t want to see me…” Jungkook’s eyes are blood shot. You know he’s been drinking again.

“I know.” You mutter, “But I had to see you.” 

“Oh.” He stumbles backward, his hand widening his front door to his new, shitty apartment. You feel anger bubbling, because you know he’s drunk. You’re doing everything in your power to keep it together and he’s wasting his time drinking.

“You’ve shut out Jimin.” You tell him, cutting to the chase. “So you don’t know anything, do you?”

“W-What’s there to know? I don’t need them anymore. Also, I was fucking fired.”

You snap your eyes to his as he still stands at his open doorway. “You’re pissing me off, Jungkook.”

“I can do this on my—”

“—They’re closing the case.” You say. “They’re saying he’s…that he’s…” You pause, throat growing drier. “You know.”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook drunkenly shrugs, slamming the door shut, making you flinch. “They’re all wrong, anyway.”

You feel your shoulders growing tenser, your lips in a hard, thin line before they die into a frown. “They’re saying we should hold a funeral.”

Jungkook’s body goes still, his hanging arms at his sides suddenly rise to his face when he rubs his temples. “Excuse me?”

“They want to—”

“Just stop!” He suddenly cries out, voice shrill. You see his eyes growing redder and redder as tears fill them up. “None of you know what you-you’re talking about. Just shut up, all of you!” 

You flinch.

Jungkook’s fingers go into his hair when he starts pulling on the strands. “This just isn’t right.” He keeps muttering to himself, “I got this. I got this. I got this.” He starts pacing back and forth in front of his coffee table. “Just stop. Stop talking.”

You stand in silence.

“I said stop talking!” 

You watch him unravel.

“Jung—”

Glass breaks across the coffee table. A shattered soju bottle that he’s thrown.

You flinch again. 

You take a step back.

Jungkook falls to the floor, crying and yelling at no one. The loss of your son is much worse than you could have imagined. But you knew telling Jungkook about the funeral was going to cause something more serious to unravel. But you didn’t imagine this.

“y/n?” Jungkook voice sounds sober now. “y/n?”

Your head is about to split into sections, the pain so overwhelming.

You lift your face from your hands, your cheeks overflowing with tears. Why did you have to remember that? 

“Hey,” Jungkook stands from the sofa and comes closer to you. His hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder but just like in your memory, you flinch. He immediately frowns. “y/n…” He brings his hand back to his body. “Talk to me, I’ll just listen.”

“G-go.” You keep your head low as your eyes stay glued to your lap. “Please just go.” 

His hands freeze at his sides, using all of his self-control. Even you can feel how tense his body is, just from the heat that radiates off of it. You’re being serious. He needs to go before you spiral into one of your throbbing headaches that give you a panic attack. The kind you can manage on your own—and prefer to. 

“Please, Jungkook…” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m not feeling well now so pl—”

“—Okay.” His fingers curl into hard fists. “Call me if you need anything. Please.” He stands here for another moment, like his feet have become glued to the floor and he’s unable to move. But after a tentative sigh, they finally move. And your ears bleed again at each sound that can be heard. The click of the AC turning off, the small dog whining in your neighbor’s yard, each drip of water dropping from the faucet and finally the whoosh of the front door opening and closing shut. And you finally let go a long, long breath. 

Your head hurts and your heart hurts, the memory fresh in your mind. You never imagined to see Jungkook…like that. You barely recognized him. Does he have a drinking problem? Or did? You need to erase these images in your head, or at least scatter something pretty over them. And that’s when you get an idea that you know is pure torture.

~

One of the boxes from the attic is sat on your living floor, with your bottom plopped right next to it. It’s a box you organized yourself, you can tell. Just a box of intimate memories with your ex-husband. You pull out a letter you’ve read at least six times now…might as well make it seven.

The envelope is pink with little hearts drawn all over it and though it’s only eight years old, it looks like it’s at least 20. The envelope itself is wrinkly with random water stains and the page inside is soft and used like you’ve read this letter a thousand times. Might as well make it a thousand and one. 

You slip the paper out of the envelope, unfolding it carefully, the crinkling paper opening up with Jungkook’s handwriting written all over.

April 10 2015

Dear y/n,

Hi it’s me, your boooooyfriend. >.< sorry I’m still getting used to it. You’re probably wondering why I’m writing a letter when I could just call or text you but you seemed to think it was cute in that movie we watched the other day and so Im writing you one too!! Also, I think my peers are thinking Im working really hard on a case. I wish I was but they won’t give me anything good. I know it hasn’t even been a year since I finally landed here in the Investigation sector as a detective but they still treat me like such a rookie…blaaaahhhhh you know this already. The captain seems to think I have potential though. But ya know what? The guys here said the only thing ive done right so far is getting you as a girlfriend hahaha 

Maybe they’re right I mean they’re definitely right 

I miss you so much

Im sitting here at my desk writing you and its just making me miss you a kabillzillion times more…….i seriously aaaaahhhh im going crazy because I miss you that much 

Im so lucky youre so amazing and my favorite person to exist and so pretty so pretty 

I know we’ve only been together for a short while but what if I told you I know exactly how I feel about yoooouuuuu huh what if 

Ask me about it when I see you tonight

Love,

Jungkook Your cheerios 

You read it. Then you read it again. This is the Jungkook you want to remember.

~~

It’s the next day and you’re opening the package you ordered just yesterday. Pulling out a small box, you get it open and unravel the charging cable to the phone you’ve found. Taking a look at the clock, you realize you’re a bit behind. You wanted to get to the café at noon for work but it’s already 15 after. You quickly plug the charger into the wall and get the phone charging. It’s dead so it’ll take a while to get turned on so you decide to leave it here while you head out. 

The café is a bit busy today, more people than you’re used to, but thankfully you see an open table. You set up your laptop and get to work. Taking a pause to message Mijoo about needing some guidance if she can meet any of these days. It would be nice to have some help in person. After working for a bit, you can’t help but lift your face from the screen and dart your eyes around the place. No sign of Seokjin today. Not that it means anything but he’s got the kind of warm, reassuring smile that you could use these days. 

And just like clockwork, the quiet bell dings when he walks through the café’s front door. He meets your eye immediately and gives you a small nod and the smile you were searching for. You nod back, eyes going back down to the laptop before you take another peak towards Seokjin. He’s walked up to the counter, talking with the young girl that’s always here. After a moment she hands him a box of what you assume are desserts. Maybe he’s giving them to the elderly again.

Then he walks out.

Oh, he isn’t staying today.

That’s okay, you don’t have time to chat with a harmless nice guy anyway. You have work to do. Something to truly get your mind off of everything else you’ve been going through. You think it’s a miracle you have it in you to try every day. In another universe, you might have already gone insane. 

~

After working a little while longer, you pack your things up and head to your car. It’s a sunny day, barely any clouds in the sky and it feels warm. Warm enough to make you forget this coldness that lingers all around you, all inside you. 

You start driving home when you remember you’re supposed to pick up a few groceries so you stop by the market first. It’s not too crowded and since you’re in an okay mood, you decide to put in your earphones and walk inside with a pep to your step. You needed zucchini…what else? Bread for sure was on your list. Peanut butter, eggs, oh yeah and some chips for when you get a craving. 

You start heading to the aisle with peanut butter when you recognize someone familiar. 

“Seokjin?” You mumble his name but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes fully focused on his jams. He stands here, deep in thought before he finally reaches for one.

“Hi.” You say a little louder and he jumps in his spot.

He turns to face you, ears turning red when he sees you. “Hi.” He stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, “I just realized I don’t know your name.” Then he chuckles.

You can’t help but crack a smile, “It’s y/n.”

“Ah, y/n. Yeah, that suits you.” He tells you confidently.

“Does it?”

“Do you usually shop here?” Seokjin gestures around the aisle, “I’ve never seen you before. Or are you…” He suddenly drops his smile and looks serious. “Following me?” Then he breaks into a huge smile before adding, “Dun, dun, duuuun.” 

You feel your stomach swirl with something before you shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “No, no! I live around here actually. This is just a coincidence.”

“A coincidence, huh? A lot of those lately.” He gives you another smile, this time more teasing. “We should just meet on purpose, you know.” 

You stand here, taken aback by his words. Is he implying meeting intentionally?

He seems to feel your shift. “Unless, unless…” His eyes avert yours now, his ears turning a deeper shade of red. “Sorry. Unless you don’t want to. Maybe you’re already seeing someone.”

You shake your head quickly, “No. I’m…I’m not.” You’re not but it feels wrong to say it. “But I wasn’t assuming…anything. Like, if you were implying a date or something.”

Seokjin pouts his lips before glancing up at the ceiling, “Why not? You would have been right.”

You blink at him, taken aback again. “Oh.”

“I happen to know a pretty great restaurant. Maybe we can not coincidentally meet there?”

He’s…asking you out. 

And it pains you because… “I can’t. Sorry,” You look down at your feet before glancing towards the jams. “Umm, I’m kind of going through something and—”

“—Oh.” Seokjin nods his head quickly. “No, no. I understand…you don’t have to explain. I’m kind of going through something too and I know that a good way to get through it is some nice company every now and then.” He gives you a warm smile, all the teasing gone. “I understand you though. So don’t worry but…” He suddenly pats his pants pockets before looking delighted. “In case you change your mind…I’m learning to…how do they kids say…shoot my shot.” He suddenly pulls out a receipt and a pen and scribbles something on it before handing it to you. 

His number.

“Just in case!” He cheeses harder. 

~

“I honestly don’t think it’s a big deal.” Misuk looks at you through the camera, her face looking brighter. “It’s just a date!”

“It is a big deal.” You whine again, “I’m in love with someone else and I have a whole lot of mess going on.” 

Subin nods her head sympathetically, “That’s true. But I think Misuk means it’s not a big deal because it could be…” She pauses, clearly thinking of the right words. It’s amusing to you to see they might agree on this. “A good thing? A simple thing! A little, you know, fun thing!” 

“Exactly!” Misuk drags out the word, “You don’t have to fall in love but you’re so focused on…you know, your memories…that you aren’t living life.”

“Uh,” You begin to defend yourself, “I’m—”

“—Yes, yes.” Misuk waves you off, “You are getting back into work! And that’s good! But you really should start living a normal life again.”

“And…” Subin looks off camera, her eyes looking softer. “It’s kind of the same. You are missing your memories, yes, and I’m so sorry…but 33 year old you was the same. Divorced. And I don’t think you were in any headspace to even think about wanting Jungkook back.” She finishes quietly.

“You wanted nothing to do with him.” Misuk tells you. “So just live a little…you know, just normal things. And who knows, it might help with your memories.”

You sit still for a moment. You’ll admit that you haven’t exactly been living normally. You mostly sit around all day, alone, surrounding yourself with things you don’t understand and torture yourself with memories of Jungkook. 

“Anyway, I’ll let you guys know if anything changes.” You chuckle after you focus your eyes on your friends again. “I just got home so I gotta put these groceries ...away" Your eye notices the list lying on the counter and you realize..."Damn, and I forgot the eggs. Anyway, I’ll call later!” You sing out.

“Okay! Bye!”

“Bye!” Subin sings back. And you end the call.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you deserve a little break or something simple and fun. You bite your lip, thoughts still lingering but you decide to reach into your back pocket and pull out the receipt Seokjin gave you. You shake your head quickly but reach for your phone and input the number and press call. You need light in this darkness.

~~

You hate feeling defeated. 

Sitting on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you as your hand clenches around this cold, empty and useless device. 

The phone has either never been used or was completely wiped. You thought you could torture yourself with more information but you’ve come out of this empty handed. There’s nothing on here. No call history, no text history, no pictures or videos…nothing. You squeeze the phone harder, frustration still building. When your actual phone buzzes. 

Your eyes shoot down to your now lit up phone and you drop the useless one to the couch cushion. It might be Subin gushing about this band she’s seeing this weekend. You’ll ignore—

Buzz.

You give in, reaching for your phone and your stomach does its usual uneasy swirling.

Jungkook 9:10pm

How are you feeling?

Jungkook 9:10pm

We don’t have to talk but at least tell me how youre doing…

Your eyes slam shut, the urge to cry too strong. Because you’re hurt. You’re hurting. You’re confused. You’re angry. And you’re sad. 

Why are you so weak? You should delete him, block him and throw your whole phone away. Because your phone knows him and you don’t. 

But you’re weak because you’re going to text back.

Except Jungkook beats you to it.

Jungkook 9:13pm

Did you get hit with a headache earlier? You okay? Have you seen your doctor lately?

All these questions are giving you different kind of headache. 

You 9:13pm

Its fine, Im fine

You lie

Jungkook 9:13pm

Liar

You 9:14pm

Jungkook

You 9:14pm

Do you have a drinking problem?

You press send. You see the bubbles pop up your screen, indicating that he’s typing but they disappear. Then they reappear. And disappear again.

You 9:16pm

Jungkook?

Jungkook 9:16pm

Who told you that? 

You feel your shoulders tense.

You 9:16pm

No one told me

You 9:17pm

I just remember when I went to your place…there was a lot of alcohol lying around and the place seemed rough

You 9:17pm

And idk I got thinking. Im not trying to accuse you or anything but…is what I saw…what I think it is?

You send. It’s not a total lie. Not what you’re referring to…but not a total lie. 

You stare at the screen but there’s no indication if he’s read your message or not. No typing. Nothing. Your eyes glance at the clock and it reads 9:19pm now. It’s okay. Only two minutes. But why does it feel like eternity? 

9:25pm and all you’ve done is sit, tightly wrapped in a blanket on your couch, and stare at your phone screen, touching the screen every time it times out. And still nothing. 

But then you see bubbles pop up.

Back straightening, you breathe in and out as your eyes remain on the screen. 

He’s been typing for three minutes.

You hold your breath now. 

Jungkook 9:28pm

And if it is?

You let out a short breath, disbelief crawling all over your skin that you throw the blanket off of you and stand from the couch. Your memories are reliable. 

You feel a sting pierce your eyes but you grit your teeth and hold any tears back. This is just too much for you to accept. You walk into the kitchen, frustration raging inside your body. You step up to the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter before leaning forward, sighing out your anger. 

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Calming down, you immediately grab a bowl and sniffle to yourself. You’ll just do these dishes and forget all about this. 

You take another bowl, the hot water burning your fingers and palms as you absentmindedly scrub it clean. 

“Sometimes I think you wash clean dishes at this point.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

You laugh, “Not true.”

“The water is too hot, baby.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, suddenly pecking it softly. “You’re going to melt the skin off your bones.”

You realize he’s right, the water is really hot but you were just lost in thought. Your wedding is in two days. You get out of your thoughts while you set the bowl back into the sink and turn the faucet off. “I’m just—”

“I know.” Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s nervous between us.”

You sigh, small smile on your face. “I’m not nervous. But I am, a little.”

“I know.”

“Not in a bad way.”

“I know that too.”

“In a…marrying the love of my life, wow life is crazy kind of way.” You dry your hands before twisting in Jungkook’s embrace and you lean in to kiss him. “You probably know what I mean.”

He laughs against your lips, “I would be the one who knows exactly what you mean.”

Your lips twist into a sheepish smile, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you more.”

You roll your eyes, a teasing smile forming now. “Liar.”

He looks surprised for a second before rolling his own eyes, “I’m serious.”

“You’re only serious about work nowadays.” You tease him, and you are mostly teasing. It’s only lately he’s been zeroed in on a case. 

But Jungkook frowns, “It isn’t going well.” He admits to you. “I don’t know that we’ll get this one.”

“You will.” You lean forward more and nudge your nose against his, “You are the best there is.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Unfortunately I’m still in the ‘proving myself’ phase.” 

“Here too.” You continue to tease him, “Still deciding if this wedding is happ—”

“—Heeeeey, don’t joke like that.” Jungkook nudges his nose against yours now, “Tell me I’m the best here too.”

Your hands trail down his chest, eyes focusing on his. “You are.” 

“I wish Jimin would tell me that too.” He laughs a little but you know he’s serious. You take his hands in yours.

“You guys are new at being partners. Give it time, babe.”

“He hates me.” Jungkook sighs, “He thinks I mess everything up. And honestly, I can’t blow this one, y/n. The captain believes in me, which is good but my own partner doubts me.” 

You understand this is hard for Jungkook to accept. 

“Listen…” You give his hands a squeeze. “This is your first big one, right? Take it slow and I know you won’t get flustered like the last one.”

He immediately drops his hands from yours, “I can’t get like how I was with the last one.” Jungkook takes a step away from you, “This one is way too serious…the men I’m dealing with, y/n…you have no idea. I can’t mess this up.”

“Baby…” You feel bad for bringing up the last case he took with Jimin. He got too involved emotionally and when things didn’t end up well for the victim…”It’s okay. You have me to talk about this with and—”

“—But I don’t. I’m legally not allowed to. I got in trouble with sharing so much last time and…fuck,” Jungkook pauses. Closes his eyes slowly before taking a step forward and reaching for your hands again. “This is not what we need to be talking about right before our wedding. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You give his hands another squeeze. “We share our lives. With or without marriage, right?” 

 “I only wanna talk about us.” He breathes out softly, his lips inching closer to yours. “Let’s focus on you and me.” 

And your skin is burning again. It’s on fire. Too much fire, it hurts.

And that’s when you realize you’re still here at your kitchen sink, hot lava rushing to your skin, burning you as you hold the bowl you were cleaning.

You take a deep breath, taking a step back from the sink when you slam your eyes shut and let out a loud groan. You don’t even flinch when the sound of glass hits the floor because you’ve thrown the bowl. You don’t care.

Another memory. 

And it seems they’re all out of order. 

~~

Another bead of sweat dribbles down the side of Jungkook’s face, rolling right off his skin. And another miserable night. He gently throws his head back against the bathroom wall, his hairline drenched from hour two of hurling in the toilet. He’s drank too much again. Maybe some bad food poisoning in there. But even still, he knows he’s drank too much. 

He isn’t abusing the alcohol, really. Not lately. But he knows what it can do to him. He hates it. He hates himself. 

He hates this existence. 

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut before he groans to himself, knocking his head back a few more times. What is he doing? 

He misses you.

He wants to make things right.

How?

Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before trying to stand from the floor. He’s wobbly but he manages. He’s tired and he isn’t sleeping and he can’t because he knows you’re not. This is how he feels like he’s with you, the only real support he can give. 

He looks at himself in the mirror, his tired eyes staring back at him. He wants to tell that guy to fuck off, for some reason. He wants to scoff at him and offer him no sympathy. Jungkook wants to raise his hands to that man’s throat and squeeze. He wants to swear at him and curse him. His mouth twists and his eyes grow teary and he sighs. Because all he can do is cry for him. 

His head snaps up when the bathroom counter vibrates from his phone. Someone’s texted.

Unknown Number

Its me

Buzz.

Unknown Number

We need to talk

[untaemedqueen]

Finding My Pack

Alpha!OT7 x Omega!Reader

Genre: Fated Mates, Omegaverse, Smut, Angst, Fluff

Series Warnings: Omega Abuse (Not By OT7), Fated Mates/Soulmates, Scent Sympathy, Sunshine!FMC, Knotting, Smut, MMMMMMMF, MMMF, MMF, MF, Breeding Kink, Cursing, Dom!OT7, Sub!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Omega Abuse

A/N: This will be the only chapter posted to Tumblr. All future chapters can be found on Patreon~! See you there!

Chapter 1.

"You do not lock the goddamn doors in this fucking house."

The sentence was thick with a growl, one that if I was born correctly wouldn't have mattered in the slightest. Just hearing the sharp hit of his words, my insides clenched and coiled, dying to listen and make sure that he wouldn't be mad at me again.

"Sorry," I whispered softly, looking down at my bare toes that curled awkwardly under my gaze.

"You need to put on your scent blocker and try a little bit harder to fit in here. You're making all your brothers crazy with that fucking smell."

Swallowing thickly, I grabbed the bottle from him with a nod.

If my scent made my brothers crazy, they made me out of my fucking mind with sickness. Every one of them smells like acidic garbage with a hint of overpowering sweetness, y'know, like the way too fake soaps or body lotions you find in those hoity toity stores.

"You're a fucking Pangborn. Please act like it," my father grumbled, wrinkling his nose at the smell of my nervousness. "Jesus Christ. I can't believe your mother made you."

His words were a low blow but nothing I wasn't used to hearing now. Nothing any of the pack said got to me as bad as it used it.

Liar.

Okay, a lot of it hurt but I tried not to think of it all the time. It was my fault, really. I wasn't born right.

To be a Pangborn in Cypress City, you have to be an alpha. The Pangborns breed for one purpose and one purpose only, to give the city more alphas then they know what to do with.

Every Pangborn is expected to be a boy, to be an alpha and to take on the numerous betas that are practically beating down the door for them to be let in. So when I was born, disappointment was ripe in the air. It still is.

A small female omega with no qualities and no purpose.

I'm nothing.

Oh that's fun, what a great thought to have. Even if it hurts, it's true.

Since I was born I've been kept hidden like a secret. There's no fairytale here, there's no pack of alpha princes waiting at the bottom of my incredibly sterile, sad tower. There's no one that cares. Well, maybe Brady and MacKenzie but they pretend I don't exist half the time.

Looking down at the bottle of scent blocker, a sob threatened to well up in my throat.

"Weak omega bullshit." That's what my father would say.

It's so fucking annoying to be different. It's so painful. But the hope that one day I'd be accepted never ceased to creep into my thoughts.

So I sprayed the spray on even though it makes me feel sick.

I could smell him before my door opened. His alpha pheromones were bleeding throughout the long hallway that lead to my room.

He smelled of garbage, lemon juice and the slightest hint of boysenberry. Although the boysenberry is not his own smell. It's a betas.

"Oy!" MacKenzie booms, shoving open the door.

His bright red hair and forest green eyes searched the mostly barren room until he found me in the corner.

"He cornered you again?" he asked softly, stepping into the room like he's witnessing a hurt animal.

"It's okay!" I tried to beam a smile for him but it fell flat into some kind of grimace.

MacKenzie wasn't really my brother, he hailed from the Alban Pangborns so he's more like my very distant cousin but he's pack and that makes him my authority regardless. If he barked at me, I'd end up doing his bidding. Just like all my other brothers do. I'm grateful he doesn't do it but he still could nonetheless.

"You sprayed on the right amount," Kenz praised, giving me a small smile.

The praise made me want to preen, made me want to jump and shout for joy that I did something right but I kept it locked tight within me.

"You'll be pleased to know that your father and some of the others are going on a business trip soon. It'll just be some of us left in the house. You won't have to smell all this alpha shite around, you ken?"

His thick accent made me smile then. When he first came over from Alba I had not a fucking clue what he was talking about but now it almost feels like a secret language we speak.

"I ken," I nodded, setting the spray down on my dresser.

"Just wait a while to come down to get your dinner. The boys and I have been having a beta fucking feast," he wiggled his eyebrows and left the doorway without so much as a goodbye.

I wish I was a beta.

No, actually, I wished I was an alpha. I wished I was born an alpha so that I didn't have to be a disappointment and left out of everything.

Sitting down on my bed, I fluffed the uncomfortable comforter around me to no avail and since I know I'm alone I let out the most pitiful of whines. Whining wasn't allowed. My father told me that alphas hate whining more than anything.

Once I whined during dinner with the Landons and their alpha son looked like he wanted to tackle me from across the table. It was the one and only time I was able to go to dinner with my family. They never let me go again.

I apparently ruined their business merger dinner.

My family made a fuck ton of money. Too much money to count on your fingers, not that I'd ever see a cent. I wasn't worth a dollar to them. They own a vast majority of land across the globe, mostly farms or patches of free wilderness that people are begging to buy from them.

If only those vast patches of land would be able to buy me a soft comfortable comforter. This one is rough and itchy and I don't like it. I don't know much about being an omega but I do know that I don't like the blankets I own.

You see, omegas are rare. Like one in one hundred is an omega rare. Somewhere in history omegas just became a rarity and as such they're terribly hated.

Whenever I tried to ask the pack any questions they all shut me down with a growl and told me to go back to my room.

"Y/N!"

My father's bark was sharp and I tightened my terribly uncomfortable blanket over my shoulders at the noise.

If they are having a beta party downstairs I most certainly wouldn't be welcome to interrupt it. All the beta females that came into the house hated me. I tried to be friendly and smile, tried to make friends with other girls but they didn't want anything to do with me.

Probably feeding into the whole hate omega-kind thing, huh?

When my father shouted my name again, I had no choice but to get up. It was an alpha command now, filled with bite and fury.

If I saw one bare tit I was going to lose my goddamn mind. I'd been having these awful urges these past couple of months. It felt like something was boiling in my gut and itching beneath my skin, just begging to get out of me. What it was, I wasn't sure but it feels fucking awful and devastating just the same.

When I was starting to run a fever, my father would give me a few pills and lock me up in my room until the fever had passed and I was able to carry on with my chores.

My feet took me without thinking. The large home I lived in with the twelve others in the pack passed by in a blur. I tried not to look up from the wooden floorboards, I really didn't want to see anyone mating out in the open like I know my brothers loved to do.

I could hear the audible moans of the betas, probably in various states of undress all around me as I made my way to my father's office.

This had always been my home but I'd always felt like a stranger here. It's not just because my family wasn't welcoming, it just felt wrong. Nothing in this place is where it should be. The pictures on the cabin-like wooden walls weren't at all in the right order, the couches in the sitting room weren't staged properly, even the wood that goes into the fireplace smells horrendous.

Everything about this place made me feel sick.

That includes my father's office.

Once I stepped inside I was immediately smacked with pheromones, ones that made my stomach roll with nausea. I wonder if that's how everyone felt. I wonder if betas got nauseous with their families too.

My eyes scanned the room which was terribly out of order and then they caught on the one picture that sat on my father's desk.

It was her.

My mother. Whom of which I've never met. She was a beta that my father never bonded with but got pregnant anyway. He loved her…I think. But when she had me and I was an omega she was disappointed and left me here. She left me here alone. With these people.

Family.

She left me here with my family.

I hadn't realized I whined until my father cracked his hand down on his desk with a fierceness. "What did I say about that shit?!"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Not that she ever does, eh?" my brother Riley laughed, elbowing me in the ribs as he passed.

Riley was an interesting case of smells. There's the cedar which makes sense because he spends a lot of time outdoors, there's the sharpness of spearmint like a powerful gum that makes your nostrils burn and…boysenberry?

He and MacKenzie have been sharing again. Definitely not uncommon for those two.

"Close the doors. She's gonna scare all the betas away. I'm not waiting another round for Hunter to have an alpha son of his own."

"Keep the lineage alive." That's the pack motto. What a terrible fucking bumper sticker that would be.

I stood there, looking down at my toes as my father and Riley talked and laughed with one another. Probably forgetting I was even in the room. Which happens sometimes.

"Alright, little O?" Kenz cheered, entering the office.

"Don't call her that," my father snapped, finally remembering I was around.

MacKenzie held his hands up in a gesture to soothe any frayed nerves and he sat down with a groan on the couch closest to father's desk.

"Y/N," my father began, not even offering the kindness to look at me. "Your brothers and I are going on a business trip outside of the city. Some of your brothers, like MacKenzie, are staying back because they have a dinner meeting at the house while I'm away."

My head lifts in surprise. Will I be allowed to go?! Can I eat dinner with my brothers?!

"There's many alphas in the pack, we can kill two birds with one stone. This business meeting is incredibly important for us."

My smile was megawatt and I nodded instantly. "Sure, of course! I can–"

"You can," my father interrupted with a sneer. "Make sure you stay in your room, take your pills and keep your scent blocker applied when the Euphoria Pack comes to the meeting. This contract will be our biggest one so far and I will not have your omega bullshit fuck it up for the rest of us. Do you understand?"

The disappointment and sorrow that swirled through me almost knocked me off my feet. "Oh, I see… I understand."

"See that you do. I won't stand for losing this deal because you couldn't handle yourself."

God, I wanted to curl up and die. I'm so pitiful. What a fucking waste. I wish I was never born an omega.

Trying to bury whines and suffering hurt sometimes and in this instance it felt like a red hot poker was shoved down my throat.

"She stinks like sadness," Riley chuckled, shaking out his long brown hair and looking me over with disdain dripping from every pore.

"Lighten up, brother. She's only human," Kenz laughed, stepping in front of me and waving his hand behind his back.

Get out.

That's what he was telling me.

"Dinner will be brought up to you. If you're feeling hot then take your pills. We're leaving in the morning and we won't be back for a few weeks."

Oh, thank God, I could do without seeing my father and half of my brothers for weeks on end. Maybe finally I would be able to walk around without getting yelled at.

Three days of the freedom I thought I would be acquiring went by too fast. I'd been left with my brothers that were the easiest to deal with. Brady, Ronan, MacKenzie, Dash and Hunter were, of course, the easiest to deal with because they never nagged me and they were always too busy fucking betas to really give a shit what I was doing.

The house stunk of sex and carefree fun but more importantly it smelled of my freedom. I was able to go out in the garden to read, to sunbathe, to smell something that wasn't garbage. It was heavenly.

I'd seen flowers I've never seen before, ones that weren't there the last time I was in the gardens. Apparently Leticia, one of the pack chasers, suggested sprucing things up. When I suggested it to my father I got sent up to my room with no dinner and pills because I was acting 'out of order.' I'm a person not a goddamn machine. How could I possibly be out of order?

But now with the three days of freedom gone, I'm once again left up in my room without a single thing to do. Defiance curled in my bones and I narrowed my eyes at the white little pills on my bedside table.

My father wasn't here, he wouldn't know if I took them or not. I'd rather get a fever then take them and feel even sicker than before. Those pills made me nauseous and I felt like reality was so far out of touch that I'd never get back to it. I did end up spraying the scent blocker, though. Just one little spritz, just enough to save the visiting alphas downstairs from my monstrous odor.

They shouldn't be subjected to a disgusting omega. An embarrassment to the family.

The sprawling cabin estate was large before our eyes but it pales in comparison to the mansion we just created on the outskirts of the state.

"I don't like the smell," Jin murmured to us.

The smell was honestly horrific. These alphas seemed to stew in the scents of sex and their own pheromones. You could smell the female betas like they were throwing out a wide casting net to repulse everyone around them.

"Why the fuck did we agree to this?" Taehyung grumbled, folding his arms.

"Because although they're disgusting, they're rich as fuck and they have the land we need to start up the center," Namjoon replied evenly, fixing his tie.

I couldn't seem to take my eyes off the enlarged wooden cabin in front of us. That's exactly what it was: a large, gigantic wooden house. It would be almost comical if it wasn't very real.

"I don't even wanna touch the door," Hoseok hissed, taking to kicking the front door insead.

Even in this day and age everyone lives with the one soul purpose of finding their person, their omega but this pack didn't seem to care about finding one. Not with the way their lodgings smelled.

Now, of course, finding an omega that's right for your pack is like finding a unicorn or finding gold at the end of a rainbow but packs do it. Not all the time but enough to keep packs hopeful, at least.

Once the door swung open, a red headed alpha before us smiled widely. "Gents, welcome! The Pangborn Pack is happy to have you!"

Namjoon gave him his typical killer smile and the alpha seemed to relax at it. Our pack leader was all killer charm and easy going… until you fuck with his pack.

The seven of us have only had each other for quite a few years now and our family depends on one another more than most.

"Thank you for having us," Jimin smiled, stepping into the home first.

His eyes bounced around the interior before nodding. Once I stepped into the entryway behind him, the need to look at the inside faded. In the air, apart from the alpha scents were the scents of dinner and something so deliciously sweet that it made my mouth water.

Fuck! What is that smell?!

"Made us dessert?" Namjoon inquired with a laugh.

So he can smell that too.

The scent was warm and sugary like a fresh out of the oven sugar cookie with vanilla ice cream slowly melting on top.

Why the fuck was I about to nut over dessert?

Casting my eyes to Taehyung, I could see him tugging at the collar of his expensive dress shirt.

It was getting increasingly hot in here, that I could guarantee.

The scent was so thick and practically viscous I could feel it wrapping around my cock and tugging sensuously. My knot was two seconds from expanding and the desire to rut until I was sated was pressing indecently on my brain.

"No dessert here, lads. The betas can barely cook a steak without it burning! We ordered out for dinner tonight! Dinnae ken billionaires like you would be opposed to that, eh?"

"Dinnae ken means didn't think," another alpha offered, slipping in beside the redhead. His hair was long and brown, shaggy even with a boyish smile that could probably charm anyone he laid his eyes on.

"That sounds great," Jin replied, unbuttoning his suit jacket and cracking his neck.

Whatever that fucking scent is, it has us all by the balls.

Namjoon gripped his hand into a fist, eyes glazing over all of us. "To the dining room, then?"

"Getting right down to business! I love that! We have betas to look after anyway," Red chortled, wiggling his eyebrows at us.

When the group of us moved with the two other alphas, my heart started to hammer as the smell became stronger.

I tried to temper my growl that wormed its way up my throat but Joon caught it. "I don't know what it is but fuck, I want it so bad," he agreed.

"Alright there, lads?"

"Just have to use the restroom. Would you mind sending me in the right direction?" I inquired, needing to find the words through a thick haze of want.

"Bathroom on the first floor is occupied for the betas. Second floor up that staircase there," Red pointed to the staircase from where the scent is strongest. "Fifth door on the right."

With a nod, I set off trying not to falter and stumble from the exquisite smell.

"We'll be waiting in the dining room. The pack is excited to make this merger," the brown haired man smiled.

Once they were out of sight I took the stairs two at a time, eyes searching for any indication of where the scent came from.

I let my senses guide me. Following the smell took me past the bathroom and past any rooms that smelt of the alphas. Stopping at the end of the hallway, the door before me was completely different from the others. It was metal, almost sterile in a sense. But the scent was there, it was so heady and present that my cock stood to attention.

"Oh fuck," I grunted, shoving open the door and barreling up the stairs.

The hallway I rushed down was bare of anything home-y and it looks like some sort of clinical hospital ward.

The door at the other end suddenly opened in a flourish and the sweetest little thing I'd ever seen stepped out with curious, glazed eyes.

"Omega," I groaned long and low, stepping toward her.

She was the maddening scent. She was what my pack was going crazy over.

"Oh! I'm so… I've never–" the sweet thing whispered, looking me over with hunger.

The perfect woman. Right before my fucking eyes. Those lips, those sweet eyes, that adorable, if not a little scared smile, that fucking body. Built just for me and my other pack brothers.

Mine, mine, mine! Every cell in my body screamed it with frantic need.

"Why do you smell so good?" she whimpered, lifting a hand as if she wanted to touch me.

Please fucking touch me. Holy shit, I was going out of my fucking mind from this perfect little thing.

"What do I smell like, sweetness?" I inquired, stepping closer.

"Like warm hot chocolate and marshmallows. Not like garbage at all!" she gasped, looking up with wide, innocent eyes.

A laugh tumbled past my lips. What an innocent creature.

"Does everyone smell like garbage to you, sweetness?"

"I just want to…" she groaned, a whimper slipping past her lips.

A purr started in my chest, rattling my bones with how thick and heavy it was. Oh fuck, I'd never purred for anyone before.

"What do you want?" I asked softly, holding my hands up to show her I mean no harm.

She gripped my wrist with a dainty hand probably thinking it had a fierceness she didn't embody. She lifted my hand to her soft cheek and my purr started up once more.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, not taking her eyes off mine. "I know omegas are disgusting. I shouldn't bother you."

The sweet purr she pulled from me turned to a growl in an instant. "You could never be disgusting. Omegas are precious. Didn't your alphas teach you that?"

She stared up at me, eyes starting to brim with tears.

Oh my God, she was everything I could have ever wanted. My pants were so fucking tight, my heart feels like it was gonna combust and I'm pretty damn sure I just met my fucking mate.

"They're not really my alphas," she whispered softly, keeping my wrist close to her nose.

I wanted to take this gorgeous woman and lock her away where no one but the pack can find her. Holy shit, my brain was turning to fucking mush.

"What are they then if not your alphas?" I asked, stepping closer.

When my chest brushed against hers, she perfumed the air for me and another purr ripped from my chest like it was an instrument being played purely for her.

"Brothers, father," she mumbled, lost in a haze of our own making.

"So you don't have a pack of your own, sweetness?" I whispered, coursing my thumb over her cheek.

"No one would want me. I'm useless," the omega replied so softly I might not have heard her if not for her keeping my attention ensnared.

"I highly doubt that, pretty girl. What's your name?"

"Y/N…"

Beautiful.

"I'm Jeongguk. It's nice to meet you, sweetness."

"I can't take it. I can't take it. I can't take it!" Jimin chanted, rushing into the hallway.

The omegas gasp was loud and frightened for only a moment until she laid eyes on the other alpha. I purred for her, watching her instantly relax at the noise.

"This is Jimin. He's a part of my pack. The Euphoria Pack."

"Oh no, I've…I've ruined dinner. My father will be so upset with me," she groaned, sounding not as upset as she probably would be if I wasn't purring up a fucking storm.

"Scent sympathetic. I thought it was like a fucking myth for people like us," Jimin laughed, stepping up beside me.

He didn't seem jealous or upset at all that my hands were on her. We've never tried for an omega, not really. Unfortunately, most omegas wanted us for our money and not for the connection. Not to mention most of the omegas we met smelled so cloyingly sweet that it gave us headaches for weeks. Most omegas wanted just some of us but not all of us and that doesn't bode well for a pack.

"You smell like calming tea and blueberries," Y/N breathed, blinking up at him.

"And you smell like a yummy dessert, sweetheart. How's such a pretty omega like you hidden up here away from everything?"

"Why are you being so nice to me? I'm just an omega," she whimpered, looking between us.

"'Just an omega'? Don't you know your worth, pretty girl?" I scoffed, tilting my head.

She opened her mouth to reply, only to shut it and furrow her eyebrows.

"I want to introduce her to the pack. I think this is it. I think we found our girl," Jimin beamed at me, allowing her to pull him closer.

She seemed to be a needy little thing. One we certainly wouldn't mind doting on. She also seemed completely out of touch with reality and it wasn't just because she was obsessed with our scents.

"Do you have a nest, sweetness? Would you care to show us?"

A nest is very sacred to omegas, it's one of the only places they can find comfort during heats and in times of stress. It was incredibly forward for me to ask but I wanted to know what she liked. I knew my hopes might be high but I wanted to set up the nest in the new mansion how she would like it. Because she was mine. She was ours. She belonged with us.

"I– What's a nest?" Y/N asked, eyebrows pinching innocently.

"Do not fucking tell me you're kept in the dark up here," Jimin growled deeply, his scent turning acidic.

Instead of turning tail and running, she started to… climb him?

She climbed him like a fucking tree. And the good looking bastard was all for it.

One arm snaked around her waist to keep her up and the other ran up and down her back in soothing motions.

She nuzzled his cheek and neck, whimpering and begging for his scent to be all over her.

"Good girl," Jimin cooed, purring for her. "Take what you want, sweetheart. We'll gladly give it."

There were rules to getting an omega, courting before mating and making sure your omega was happy and well looked after. In some cities omegas even went to Help Centers to find their perfect pack but Cypress City had no such thing. That was what we were trying to change. That was why we needed this deal with this pack.

"I don't know what's happening! I'm so sorry! I just feel so…"

"Overwhelmed?" Jimin offered, pulling back to look at her.

She nodded, whimpering and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

"We need to talk to the pack," I told him, pressing my chest to her back and purring. I drifted the back of my hand over her bare arm and she seemed to thrive on not only praise but physical affection.

"I can't leave her," Jimin hissed over her shoulder, hugging her tighter at the thought of having to part.

"I don't want you to go! Please! I'm so tired of being alone! Please don't go!" she sobbed into his neck.

A growl ripped from my chest at her sadness and I was storming off before I even knew what was happening.

She's mine. She's mine. She's mine.

"Guk!" Jimin called but I was already barreling down the stairs with a fierceness building in my chest.

They kept that precious omega in a sterile fucking ward like she was some sort of disease. She didn't even know what a nest was! It was a disgrace! She'd been abused without even understanding anything!

She's mine!

If one more sob of hers entered my ears, I thought I might burn their oversized camp cabin down and dance on the embers.

Shoving open the dining room doors, I glowered at the pack that sat high and mighty at the end of the long dining room table. Once they saw me and smelled me, they all stood.

"Been wandering around our home, have you?" Red asked with the tilt of his head.

"Stupid girl can't do anything but get herself in trouble!" one of them sneered.

The insult made a growl rip from my throat and they all stared long and hard at me. I wouldn't stand for this. I couldn't stand for this.

"She doesn't even know what a fucking nest is. How dare you all treat an omega like this! This is abuse!" I boomed, widening my eyes at them.

My packs jaws fell open in shock and suddenly they were standing to surround me, to have my back.

"She's scent sympathetic with us," Jimin assured, entering the room with her still cradled to him.

I was happy she liked him. He's far more easy going and carefree then most of us and she'd enjoy his company.

My pack stepped toward her and she cried sweetly at all of their scents. They purred for her and my heart expanded. No one was left out and she locked eyes with all of them. She jumped ship from Jimin to Namjoon and he nuzzled her hair. He wrapped her legs around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Would you like to leave this place, pet?" he inquired.

“She'll do no such thing!" Red boomed.

When she whimpered at the alpha bite, we growled in defiance.

"You think your bark is bad? Mine was given to me by the devil. If I have to force you to obey, I fucking will. It's the omegas choice. You can't keep her here like a fucking prisoner!" Joon boomed.

"She's not a part of the deal," one of the Pangborn's hissed through his teeth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she gasped repeatedly, trying to set herself down.

"Do you want to get down, pet?" Namjoon asked, tilting her jaw to look up at him.

She reluctantly shook her head, burying her face back into his neck.

Oh fuck, she's so perfect and sweet.

"Then you stay exactly where you are," the pack leader whispered, giving her his wrist to be able to tilt his head and glower at the Pangborn pack.

"You expect me to pay? For a person?! Are you out of your small alpha minds?" Namjoon bit out, sneering at her brothers.

"MacKenzie… Dad is gonna flip," one of them breathed.

"I'm tired of always having to sneak Juliet around. Just be rid of her. Omegas are nothing but trouble."

Hoseok growled so loudly, something he never does, that it almost made my chest rattle.

"I know you don't know us very well," Seokjin breathed slowly as the other pack continued to argue. "But if you feel safe with us we'd like to take you somewhere you can be yourself and be happy. How does that sound, princess? You deserve much better than this shithole."

"I won't feel sick?" she inquired, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Oh, she's killing me here.

"Do you feel sick in this house?" Yoongi growled, narrowing his eyes at the other pack.

Her nod was slow and sad.

"I'm getting her out of here. Now!" Namjoon boomed, pressing her face into the scent gland of his neck.

She seemed to love being held. We could do that for her. We could give her anything and everything she wants. We could be good for her.

"Give us a million!" Red or MacKenzie called back but Namjoon was already heading for the door.

"Get fucked!" our pack leader growled.

"Wh-Where are we going?" Y/N asked, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

"Home, sweetness," I promised. "We're going home."

[thekombuchagirl]

CODE ZERO

Summary: It was an ordinary humid sunday of June until it wasn't. Of all things you expected to happen in the summer of '25, preventing the spread of another epidemic wasn't one. Locked in the pantry of a cafe with a masked stranger, all you could hear outside were animalistic groans and the occasional crackle of breaking bones. Just when you thought that the last moments of your life would be sitting across an intimidatingly hot man, a table flips, literally.

Pairing: discharged soldier!yoongi x fem journalist!reader

what to expect? gore, zombies, banter in the face of death, explicit language, yoongi walks around in a tank with a manbun for a whole day, reader develops a liking for smashing skulls halfway through the story, sexual tension that can be cut with a knife and eventual smut

Age rating: 18+ mdni!

Tags: @ktownshizzle @mysteriousgeminizone

chapter warnings: gore, graphic description of violence, mentions of death, cursing

a/n: hello! thank you so much for reading my story and if you can take a minute to drop your valuable feedback that would be even more amazing!

C H A P T E R O N E

"No network, nothing at all. Can you check yours once again please?"

You looked expectantly at the man sitting by the door. His mask was now hanging on his chin and it had been irking you for a while. Why wear a mask at all if it is not actually masking anything? But you let it be since he was the one who saved you from whatever was happening outside and he looked awfully familiar. The more you looked at him the more familiar he looked but you couldn't put a finger on where exactly you knew him from. He didn't seem to think the same for you, however.

"For the seventh time in the last ten minutes, no. There is no network. Not in yours. Not in mine. Because it has been shut down."

He spoke in small sentences, pronouncing each word like he was speaking to a child. It only annoyed you further. You weren't asking to play games on his phone or something. You were asking because there was something out there that was making people rip each other's skin like paper and bite off their flesh. It was probably the end of the world and the man in front of you was unbothered and even annoyed at your very obvious concern.

"How do you plan to get out of here then? We can't call for emergency services-"

"Out of here? Emergency service? Woah," he slid up against the door, dusting his arse and for the first time since you encountered him, broke into a fit of laughter. "Do you think the government people will come to save you with those things out there? The ministers are probably out of the country by now and the town is under lockdown. The end of the world shit is only for the ordinary folks. For people like us. When the world ends for us, it is just renovation for them."

The nonchalance was gone instead his dark eyes were suddenly filled with fury. You hated to admit it to yourself but he was right. The government was going to do no good any time soon and you knew it, more than anyone else. But you didn't like his tone. You didn't like how he was talking down to you from the beginning for no reason. All the points that he won for saving you were exhausted. So it didn't take you a lot of effort to match his tone.

"So what? We just sit here waiting for those things to break in eventually and then what?"

He stared at you wordlessly. When his nonchalance had dropped, that was the first second of satisfaction for you. Now that he was staring at you silently, you felt that satisfaction grow in you. It made no sense for you to be that petty in that situation but then again, too much was happening in too little time.

"What? Nothing to say any-"

"Don't move."

Your blood ran cold. You could see it now. His eyes weren't on you, they were focused on something behind you. The skin on your back tingled and your vision blurred. You could hear a soft thud and then a scratch, as if someone was dragging their feet. It was coming closer and closer. Before long, you finally heard it. A growl.

Through your blurred vision, you could only see the man in front of you. His pale skin was blindingly bright now that there was light flooding in from the back. Why didn't you check for a door at the back? Why did you let your guards down? You could see his dark brown orbs flit back and forth between you and the thing behind you. For a moment, you wished he would save you again. But why would he when he could push you off as bait and take his chance of escape?

You closed your eyes. You could feel your knees slowly give away as your childhood, your teenage and your years working as an investigative journalist flash before your eyes. Your colleagues had always despised you because you'd somehow manage to avoid the risky cases, ones where you could come close to the face of death. They would probably be glad to know how you went. But there was so much left to be done. It felt too soon. You were leaving too soon.

A snarl and then a choked out growl rumbled in the air behind you. This was it. You took one deep breath. This was it. You exhaled.

That's when a table flipped. Literally.

You heard the crash before you opened your eyes to see it. A broken table that had been lying useless beside the door was now on top of the... thing and by it stood the man. Eyes on the thrashing creature at his foot. It couldn't remove the heavy table from itself. It didn't have hands. There was nothing below its elbows and a dark liquid was dripping from the open joints.

You didn't even realise you were on the floor until the man was pulling you on to your feet, his lips moving. He was talking to you. But all you could hear was a sharp whistle and then buzzing. You could only stare at him, a stranger who saved you once again when he had no need to. Even as he dragged you towards the back of the pantry, you just stared at him. You didn't know how he could tell but just by the open back door, he turned to you and held you by your shoulders and shook you.

"Put it together. We have to leave. I need you in your complete consciousness if we have to leave here alive."

Then it all hit you. The wailing creature below the heavy table was growling at the top of its voice and the other side of the pantry door was about to give away as the thudding of multiple bodies hitting against it, made it creak and shake.

"Are you listening? We have to-"

"Let's go," you nodded at him. If life had given you another chance, you must make the most of it.

"Can you run well?"

"Women run the world."

"Let's fucking go, then."

Your watch was broken. Just your luck. You had no idea how long the both of you ran through the deserted streets. The street lights were off and the houses along the streets felt like they were part of an abandoned civilisation that died away long ago. Abandoned cars and motorcycles left with traces of a darkened fluid that you could only assume was blood. Everywhere you could only see blood. It was making your whole body ache, your feet weighing heavier and heavier as you realised that it was really happening.

You were running so fast that it only occurred to you how far you had come when you noticed the man slowing down as the police station came into sight. On the street before the station, there were two cars that appeared to have been in an accident. You stepped forward towards the station only to be pulled back by the man once again.

"There," he pointed to the entrance of the station but you could barely see anything in the dark. As you squinted to see, your eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness and inside, you could see shadows moving. A shiver ran down your spine. There was no way they were uninfected. A sense of hopelessness washed over your body.

You turned to the man beside you, "where should we go? The hotel that I was staying in is on the other side of the city. We can't reach there on foot."

He nodded at that, "Yeah. Seaside is too far so our best bet would be to take a car."

You looked around the street and the abandoned cars standing around, "one of these?"

"Ideally, yes. But we need to make sure that it has enough fuel. We can't afford to stop at any gas stations once we start."

You walked towards one of the cars with the driver side door left open. It was exceptionally clean. No bloodstains on the windshield or on the seats. You leaned in to check for the key but couldn't find it around. A sparkle of something by the gear caught your eye so you bent over to check it out.

"A stupid candy," you murmured under your breath as you took your upper body out of the car only to come face to face with the man, who was leaning by the side of the door.

"Keep it," he nodded at you, eyes fixated on you like they were back at the pantry of the cafe. He was standing close. So close that if you took another step, your noses would bump into each other. Up close, he felt more familiar than ever. You were sure you had met him before so you couldn't resist asking.

"Have we met be-"

You didn't even know you had it in you to move that fast. One moment you were looking at him and the next you were pulling him back and behind you. From behind the car appeared something that you could never even have seen in your nightmare. It was a man or at least it used to be a man. His mouth hung open, lips split on the side abnormally. It was as if he had ripped his mouth open to take a massive bite of something. With his one eye open, he was dragging himself to the side of the car where you stood and from the other, a pen was sticking out through his split eyeball. As his full body came to view, a huge chunk of his shoulder was missing and the white of the bones was dripping with dark red.

"Holy shit- fuck. Fuck. Fuck," you stumbled backwards with the man right behind you. "We need to run. Run. Run. Fucking hell, just run."

"We won't be able to make it on foot. Look," he pointed towards the police station out of which more of those things were coming out like flies. So many. Of course. If the station was as packed as you had seen it when you were on your way to the cafe, then there had to be hundreds of those in there.

"Motherfuck-"

"Come on," he pulled you backwards by your arm. By then the night sky was filled with growls and snarls as those things started coming out of every house, every corner.

A horde of those things were emerging out of all those abandoned houses that you had crossed and you spluttered in disbelief as he dragged you right towards them.

"What the fucking fuck. No. Are you suicidal you maniac? Why are we going towards them? No. I am not-"

Instead of replying he just tugged on your arm harder, now sprinting towards the horde. You could only turn your head back for a split second but that was enough for you. You were doomed and surrounded. The man dragging you was relentless. As the distance between the horde and you two decreased and decreased, from inside you a strange sensation bubbled out. You didn't have it in you to reform your subconscious so you let it surface and it came out as laughter. As the man dragged you ahead, you laughed your heart out.

He looked back at you for a second with furrowed eyebrows and when he saw you laughing so much that your eyes were tearing up, he couldn't help but comment, "what a fucking psycho-"

At that moment, as the two of you reached so close to the horde that their extended arms were about to touch your skin, he left your side.

Horrified you turn to your side to curse him out for betraying you at the end, only to find him on top of a motorcycle that somehow had the key in it. He looked at you, with the subtlest smirk, ushering you on.

"What the fuck."

You got on just in time and off you went straight towards the other side. The horde that had emerged out of the police station was more scattered because they seemed confused at the quick direction changes. As the motorcycle breezed past the infected with zig zags that would have normally made you insanely mad, you let out a sigh. The road ahead was clear. You were saved. Again.

The entire city seemed to be under a powercut as you went through the blocks. The wind crashing against your face made your eyes flutter close. You didn't realise how exhausted you were. But even in that exhaustion, you couldn't help but be grateful to the man who had once again saved you. His hair fell in soft waves till almost his shoulders. You couldn't contain the sudden rush of emotions that ran through your body. In the span of a day, everything turned upside down.

In the exhaustion washing over your senses, you found it easy to be grateful. So you leaned in closer to the man, your chin nearly resting on his shoulder as you finally asked what you should have asked hours ago.

"What's your name?"

The wind cut through your voice making your question sound barely coherent. He confirmed your thoughts when he turned his head to the side, "Huh?"

"Your name. What's your name?"

You asked louder this time. His shoulders shook as if he was chuckling. Soon enough you could hear him again, his voice laced with humour, "Finally cared to ask?"

"Just say it. You're annoying enough," you made sure your tone was fussy enough but you couldn't help the smile that was tugging on your lips.

"Yoongi. Min Yoongi."

You nodded. Not that he could see you.

"Now, hold on tight," what he said next immediately made your smile drop.

How on earth did he know your name?

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 5

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: SMUT, sexting, i guess a little bit of exhibitionism? not really but if we're splitting hairs, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, COMPLICATED FEELINGS! MEN NAMED KEVIN! YIJEONG?????

✧ WORDCOUNT: 7.4k (jesus christ)

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: TAKE A BITE 5 IS HERE!!!!!!!!! this chapter was ALMOST written in a planet fitness, but it wasn't. this chapter is also almost ENTIRELY smut, but the smut is important to the plot so leave me alone! i'm sorry to inform those of you that wanted more of yoongi's brain that this chapter is entirely reader pov, but there's a reason for that and i promise yoongi will be back before this story is complete <3

Chapter 5: I Think I Need Your Help

Next time can’t come soon enough.

Since Friday night, you’ve been alternating between being super proud of yourself for being direct and asking for what you want, and being equally repulsed by yourself for the way getting what you want has made you act. 

You’ve seen Yoongi once since the night in his studio, when he was coming home after pulling an all-nighter and you were on your way out to work, like two goddamn ships passing in the night.

You were in that barely functional state post-waking up where you were shocked you were even able to get your shoes on the correct feet before walking out the door, and the mere sight of him in a short-sleeved white t-shirt had you pausing where you stood and taking a looooong look. You’re that desperate. 

And he knows it, too. Exhausted as he looked, your blatant staring didn’t go unnoticed. Mercifully, though, Yoongi didn’t say anything. Just shook his head at you knowingly, smirking to himself as he pushed his front door open and stepped inside, presumably to go crash for a few hours.

You thought, foolishly, that a byproduct of your friends-with-benefits arrangement would be an ability to relax, loosen up a little bit so you’re able to be more productive during office hours. Don’t people say that about sex? That it clears the head? Well, those people have clearly never had Min Yoongi’s head between their legs.

You are decidedly not clear headed. You are wired, wanting, finding yourself zoning out in the middle of newsroom meetings thinking about Yoongi’s hands spreading your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit, the way he groaned into your pussy. It’s fucking distracting.

You’ve never been like this before with anyone you’ve slept with. Sex with your ex had been good, even great sometimes, but you never really thought about it until it was happening. With Yoongi, you can’t seem to think about anything else.

Meanwhile, Yoongi has been busy, on a completely different sleep schedule from you all week. He’d given you fair warning before you left his studio Friday night, wobbly-legged and fucked out. He’s working on a very important track for an upcoming artist’s debut album, he’d told you. It’s due at the end of the day Friday, and he probably won’t have time for any… extracurriculars until it’s done. 

No big deal, you’d said! Dumb bitch.

It doesn’t help in the slightest that, as you’d hoped, nothing has really changed between you and Yoongi, aside from occasional suggestive texts (mostly initiated by your horny ass!!!!!!) exchanged throughout the day, sprinkled within normal conversation. No, Yoongi has continued to be himself: sweet, considerate, kind of nerdy. Sending you links to articles he finds interesting, or funny videos, or songs that he’s had on repeat. It is driving you insane.

On Thursday afternoon, you snap.

You open your phone on your lunch break to find that Yoongi has sent you not one, not two, but three devastatingly cute cat videos, and has provided his own commentary on them.

So, obviously, you text back with what you think is the only appropriate response to that kind of behavior. 

[12:14] You: i am begging you to put your cock inside me before i lose my mind

It is by far the most direct you’ve been since Friday night, far exceeding the coy flirtation you usually go for. You place your phone face-down on your desk with a shaky hand, staring down at your sad little salad. Lunch seems impossible now, what with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears and all.

Your phone buzzes not even a minute later, twice. Which stands to reason. You wanted Yoongi’s attention, and now you’ve got it. You take a deep breath through your nose and turn your phone back over.

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re begging, huh?

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re at work, baby. Can’t focus? Need it that bad?

Um. Yes, yes you do. And the way that you can practically hear his voice right now, in your ear, teasing. Fuck. Not helping.

You pick up your phone, hiding yourself behind the monitor at your desk so nobody in the office can see how flushed you’ve become all of a sudden. You’re on your lunch, and they should mind their damn business.

[12:16] You: yes

[12:17] Yoongi: You know I can’t help you until I’m done with my track.

That’s pretty much the response you expected, but you can’t help feeling frustrated about it anyway. He can’t take a break for an hour? You’d even settle for thirty minutes!

[12:18] You: i think you can and you’re just making me wait to be an asshole

[12:18] You: which is really dumb because i can just come to your studio tonight when i get off of work and you can take a break

[12:19] You: let me ride you in your chair

[12:19] You: fuck. you don’t even have to stop working yoongi

You’re acting desperate, you know that. You know how you sound. But you are desperate, can’t help it. Yoongi opened the floodgates to over three years of pent-up sexual frustration with his stupid tongue, and now it’s his fucking responsibility to deal with it.

You watch as the bubble pops up to indicate that he’s typing, and then disappears, then reappears again. Ha. Maybe you actually got him.

[12:22] Yoongi: If you think calling me names is gonna get you what you want, you’ve got another thing coming.

[12:22] Yoongi: You can come to the studio tonight if you really want to. But I can guarantee that you’re not getting my cock.

[12:23] Yoongi: Except maybe in that fucking mouth to give it something better to do than complain.

Holy shit maybe not!

[12:23] You: oh my god

You had a feeling, of course, that Yoongi liked being in control, that he liked to guide. He had coaxed your desires out of you so sweetly Friday night, letting you tell him what you wanted, but how he did it was his choice. But this is more than guiding. He’s telling you what’s going to happen if you come over. You shift in your chair, your thighs clenching.

[12:24] Yoongi: Hey. Tell me if this is okay, Y/N.

You can practically hear the words in his voice, soft, like when he asked you to stay when Seokjin came over to cook. The stark difference between this and the texts immediately before are almost enough to make your head spin. He’s giving you an out if you’re not into this. But you are into it.

[12:24] You: yeah

[12:24] You: yes. it’s okay

[12:25] Yoongi: I need you to tell me if I say or do something you don’t like, okay? No matter what.

[12:25] You: i will

[12:25] Yoongi: Good girl.

God. Being this turned on at work feels like a crime.

[12:26] Yoongi: I’m not trying to be mean, baby. I already told you, I’m dying to fuck you. I wasn’t just saying that.

[12:27] Yoongi: But when I fuck you, I want to be able to take my time.

[12:27] Yoongi: Wanna have you in my bed and not in my studio, first of all. All spread out for me so I can see all of you.

[12:28] Yoongi: Wanna taste you again. I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste, fuck. I didn’t take it slow enough last time, didn’t get to savor it, but I’m gonna fix that. Gonna make you come with my tongue again before you even get my cock, get you nice and wet for me.

[12:29] Yoongi: Not that it takes much. Bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you? Just from this?

Oh, he’s so mean. Your thighs clench again and you chew on your bottom lip as you type, hyperaware of the way the thin fabric of your panties clings to your sex. It feels so dirty, knowing that in a few minutes you’ll have to work like this. You’ll have to talk to your colleagues like this, pretend like nothing’s amiss. You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t turn you on even more.

[12:29] You: yeah. god, yoongi. i am

[12:30] Yoongi: Yeah. I know, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you when I can. Gonna make you feel so good. You sounded so sweet when you came for me last time. Can’t wait to hear what kind of pretty noises you’ll make when I get to have you properly.

[12:31] Yoongi: Fuck, Y/N. If you think I don’t wish I was with you right this second you’re insane. Been dreaming about your pussy. But I wanna do this the right way.

You believe him. Even through your phone, you can feel it—that raw honesty that Yoongi always gives you. He’s been agonizing over this just as much as you have. It makes you feel a little bad, honestly, that you so wantonly distracted him like this, when he’s been working so hard this week. Maybe part of you wanted to get back at him for denying you what you wanted on Friday, but now, you realize that you’re glad he did. You want all of that, too. Everything he said, every word of it. Just because this is casual doesn’t mean you have to rush.

Maybe it’s time for you to give him a little honesty of your own.

[12:32] You: i want that too

[12:32] You: shit i have to go back to work soon but i promise i’m not trying to rush this i just…

[12:32] You: really, really want you

[12:33] Yoongi: I want you too.

[12:33] Yoongi: Soon, okay? Really really soon if I can help it.

You look up from your phone when the chime of an Outlook notification snaps you out of your bubble, directing your attention to an email from your boss. With a longsuffering sigh, you click it open. He wants to talk to you as soon as you’re available, and your salad isn’t going to eat itself, so you resign yourself to letting Yoongi get back to work.

[12:35] You: soon

[12:35] You: go back to work. that grammy isn’t gonna win itself

[12:36] Yoongi: Lmfao. Go back to work, she says, as if she didn’t just give me the most persistent boner of my life unprovoked.

[12:36] You: motivation!

[12:36] Yoongi: Motivation for me to do more inappropriate shit in my place of business, maybe. But it’s a lot sadder when I’m by myself.

[12:37] You: wowwwww pics or it didn’t happen

[12:37] Yoongi: YOU go back to work, pervert.

You do. Begrudgingly.

You quickly type an email to your boss, just a cursory, ‘There are fifteen minutes left in my lunch, and then I’ll be there. Thanks Kevin!’ Afterwards, you scarf down your lunch. And you finally watch those cat videos Yoongi sent you, which effectively tamps down your horny high enough for you not to feel icky about meeting with your boss. 

★ ★ ★

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, you’re knocking on Kevin’s door.

You like your boss well enough. As much as one can like their boss, maybe, give or take a bad day. Kevin is nice, but his name is stupid, and he certainly doesn’t live up to your expectations of what a music journalism editor would be like when you first applied to Look Here Magazine.

Foolishly, you expected someone straight out of Almost Famous: young, wears band t-shirts beneath blazers, a chainsmoker, a little bit sleazy, with music knowledge to put Nardwuar to shame. Instead, what you got is a mostly-bald, clean-cut, mid-forties guy who wears khakis most days of the week and says things like ‘circle back’ and ‘best practice.’ He’s competent, sure, and you need him to like you, absolutely, but he does make your job feel a little less cool. But who knows! Maybe Kevin rocks out on the weekends. You certainly don’t, so who are you to judge?

Kevin waves you in, and before you even have the chance to sit down, he’s dropping a bomb on you that makes you feel like your legs are going to give out beneath you.

“You’re taking charge on the Yijeong profile piece,” he says flippantly as peers over his glasses at his monitor, typing without pause.

There’s absolutely no way you just heard that right. Yijeong's profile was assigned already, to a reporter who has been at Look Here a lot longer than you. You tell Kevin as much, as if he wasn’t in the newsroom when the piece was pitched in the first place.

“Sora didn’t have enough bandwidth to juggle the profile and the reunion tour coverage, and that’s going to be on the cover,” Kevin says, without even a passing glance to you. As if he isn’t altering the trajectory of your career over a scheduling conflict. “It’s all you, kid.”

“I don’t have the contacts,” you blurt out, having mercy on your poor, wobbly legs as you sit down.

“Ask Sora for the contacts.”

“Don’t you want someone more experienced for this? Connected?”

It’s not that you don’t want it. Writing a profile on someone like Jang Yijeong is a dream come true for someone as green as you are. It may not be the cover article, but the headline will be written on the cover, and so far you’ve only written the puff pieces that readers likely use to pad outgoing mail. If you do this right, there’s a chance of less puff pieces and more real journalism.

It’s the if that scares you. Jang Yijeong has rebranded his entire career from being an idol to being a producer, so he’s technically considered an up-and-coming artist where Look Here is concerned. Nobody has heard his name in a few years, and a piece on him by a publication like Look Here could make him the most sought after producer in the country, if he plays it right. 

But Yijeong has also been in the music industry for a long time. He’s been interviewed by countless reporters. He’s media trained. Good media training is a death sentence for profiles, which are supposed to dig deep into the subject. Trust is everything in this kind of situation, and if Look Here sends a rookie like you to interview Jang Yijeong without the proper connections, without someone to vouch for you, he will show up to the interview with a script in hand. The profile will be a dud and your career will pay the price.

Sighing, Kevin finally stops typing, looking at you for the first time since you walked into his office. You shift in your seat, trying to make yourself look less fucking terrified.

“Look, I could hand it off to someone else, but you’ve been doing a good job these past couple of weeks. In your interview, you told me you’re most interested in writing features. That you’re good at it. I’m throwing you a bone,” he says, and you take a shaky breath. “Take the piece. Don’t try to reinvent the wheel. You’ve written profiles before, you know what to do. Just ask good questions, don’t be stiff, and you’ll be fine.”

Kevin’s phone rings, and his attention is stolen again as he picks it up to answer it without a second thought. “Talk to Sora, and then take the day out in the field tomorrow to see what kind of background you can dig up,” he says, waving you out with the same indifference he waved you in with. You scramble to stand up, rushing to leave.

“Deadline is Wednesday!” he calls as you shut the door behind you, taking a moment to catch your breath before you try to find Sora.

Holy shit.

You have work to do.

★ ★ ★

You spend your entire day on Friday pounding pavement, milking all of Sora’s sources for what they’re worth, but you don’t learn any information about Jang Yijeong that you can’t find on his Wikipedia page.

You don’t give up easily, though. No, you plan to put your investigative reporting skills to good use, via a healthy session of social media stalking. You can find out a lot about someone from what they post on X and Instagram, after all. You have to reach out to Yijeong’s label to schedule an interview as soon as possible, and if you have to get your hard hitting questions based off of what you can glean from a meal he photographed in 2013, so be it.

It’s ten at night by the time you flop onto your bed, phone in hand, ready to pull an all-nighter and plunge yourself into the rabbit hole that is Jang Yijeong’s social media. Pepper hops up with you, curling up on your stomach and purring contentedly as you start scrolling.

Nearly two hours and ten possible interview questions later, your phone buzzes in your hand. It’s Yoongi.

[11:47] Yoongi: Are you coming over or not?

Oh, fuck. It’s Friday. Meaning Yoongi is done with his track.

You’d almost forgotten how horny you’d been for the past week, completely absorbed in your assignment. It stands to reason that as soon as Yoongi is free, you’re suddenly swamped with work of your own. But, of course, it all comes rushing back just from a text.

Whatever! You’ve been at it for hours, anyway. You deserve a break.

[11:49] You: when did you get home?

[11:49] Yoongi: About half an hour ago.

[11:50] You: hmmmm… did you take a shower?

[11:50] Yoongi: Obviously. I’ve been in the studio for most of the week. I’m not an animal.

You snort to yourself, which scares the shit out of Pepper after your complete silence for the past two hours. You’re suddenly proud that you had the foresight to take a shower of your own when you got home from interrogating people all day, although this wasn’t on your mind at the time. 

[11:50] You: leave the door open?

[11:51] Yoongi: Will do.

You very carefully nudge Pepper off of your stomach, giving yourself a cursory glance in your mirror once you’re up. You make sure that your hair looks good at least, but your clothes don’t matter as much. It’s not like they’ll be on for long anyway.

Satisfied with what you see, you make your way through your apartment, grabbing your keys to lock your door on your way out.

Maybe it’s the workload that was dumped on you yesterday, but you feel much more level headed about this than you thought you would. It’s like your body has finally caught up with your brain, and you can recognize this part of your relationship with Yoongi for what it actually is: stress relief. You’ll go to his apartment, he’ll give it to you so good, and then you’ll go back to work and he won’t care because, like he told you before, he gets it. You’re giddy just thinking about it.

Walking into Yoongi’s apartment isn’t daunting, nor is locking the door behind you. Nor is finding him on his couch and climbing into his lap without even a hello, crushing your lips to his the way you’ve spent all week dreaming about.

Yoongi makes a surprised noise against your mouth, his hands hovering at your waist, but he quickly melts into the kiss, letting you take the lead for a moment as his hands find their place, pulling you closer. It’s only when you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue, silently requesting entry that he pulls back, forcing you to breathe.

“Hi,” he says, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

“Hi,” you parrot back, grinning.

His hands slip from your waist to your hips as he looks you over, toying with the fabric of your sleep shorts. “Remember what we talked about yesterday?” You hum coyly, guiding his hand under the hem, which makes him huff, shaking his head with a smirk. “Wanting to do this the right way,” he reminds you, quickly removing his hand from where you led it, instead opting to smooth it over the curve of your ass.

“Easier said than done,” you reply, feeling bold enough to take the initiative that he won’t and sliding your hands under his shirt, running them over his abdomen. The fabric bunches up, and you can’t help but stare at the tantalizing inch of pale skin you’re rewarded with.

You gasp in surprise at the light spank Yoongi gives your ass in return, not nearly hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for you to pull your hands away. You know a warning when you see one—or feel one, that is. When you look up at him, he’s raising an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you said you wanted it like that,” he hums, rubbing over where he smacked you. “There’s always the alternative.”

Oh. That.

You wish you could say the thought of letting Yoongi fuck your throat wasn’t appealing, but there’s no hiding the way it makes you squirm, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Yoongi hasn’t been particularly rough with you yet, but he’s hinted that he can be, if you want it. You imagine his hand on your jaw, encouraging you to open wider for him. Your eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. You still don’t know what his dick looks like, how thick it’ll feel on your tongue, how much your jaw will ache, but you’re eager to fill in the blanks of your imagination. You’ll definitely take him up on that one day, but no, he’s right. 

You want to come. You want him to make you come. As stubborn as you are, you can’t deny that.

“You can take your time,” you mumble, meeting his eyes. 

He smiles, bringing his free hand up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek like it did that night in his studio. “Good girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a sweet kiss that makes you moan, shifting your hips to grind against the bulge you feel stiffening under you. 

Yoongi pulls away from your lips with a chuckle, patting your hip gently. “Up,” he says, and you scramble to your feet, no more bratty attitude to be found at the moment. 

He stands with you, guiding you by the hand to his bedroom. Since he’s so adamant about taking his time, you take a moment to glance around the room, taking in all the little things about it that reflect what you’ve learned about Yoongi over the past several weeks.

Like the rest of his apartment, his bedroom is much cleaner than you would’ve assumed. There’s a desk with a small home studio setup, much more sparse than what you’ve seen in his actual studio. The equipment looks old and well-loved, and you wonder how long he’s had it. A basketball jersey hanging over his desk chair with his name emblazoned on the back. A dresser with various jewelry scattered on top, chains and rings and earrings. 

His bed, of course, takes up the most space in the room. Where you have a queen bed in your own bedroom, you note that his is clearly a king, with a soft looking black comforter over top. A comforter that you’re about to be pressed into, you think. 

Yoongi comes up behind you, his hands on your waist, lips on your neck trailing kisses over your nape and making you shiver.

“Relax,” he murmurs, huffing a laugh that you feel more than hear. “Lie down for me?”

You nod, walking to the bed and settling flat on your back. God, is this a Purple mattress? You hate him a little bit. You found your mattress on the side of the road.

Yoongi doesn’t give you long to stew on your hatred, though. Not when he’s spreading your legs, your feet planted flat on the mattress beneath you so he can fit his hips between your thighs. Not when you can feel how hard he is already, even through the layers separating you.

He kisses you again, long and slow and hot, all of your breath leaving your lungs at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Remember to stop me,” he mumbles between kisses. “If I do something you don’t like.”

You honestly find it hard to believe that Yoongi could do anything you wouldn’t like, but you nod your head jerkily in response, not wanting to separate from his lips for any longer than necessary.

Soon, he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck as his hands push your shirt up slowly, only separating himself from you to pull it off entirely and toss it aside on the mattress.

“Fuck,” he groans at the discovery that you aren’t wearing a bra, his hands immediately coming up to squeeze your breasts. “Wanted to make it easy for me, huh, baby?” 

In reality, you’d just been dressed for bed, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that, unable to form the words as his lips travel down to your chest, his tongue coming out to lave over a nipple.

You moan, your head falling back onto the mattress under you with a dull ‘thunk’ as Yoongi wraps his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair.

“You like that,” he teases, a statement and not a question. He lifts his head, looking down at your tits with his bottom lip between his teeth. “So pretty, baby.” 

Your cheeks flush warmly at the praise, and desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, your hands slide down to his chest, fisting in his shirt and tugging.

“Your turn,” you breathe, and he chuckles as he sits up on his knees, tugging his shirt over his head.

You can’t help but stare. It’s not that you thought that Yoongi would be skinny, per se, but he does have a tendency to wear clothes a little too big for him, dwarfing him, and given his already small stature due to his height… Not that you would’ve minded in the slightest if he was on the scrawnier side, but Christ. He’s decidedly not scrawny. He’s lean, with shoulders broader than you would’ve given him credit for at a passing glance. 

And now here you are, gifted with an expanse of pale, smooth skin over compact muscle. Your eyes roam over him, from dusky nipples all the way down to the thin trail of dark hair starting right under his navel and leading your gaze down to where his cock strains against his sweatpants.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to touch somebody so badly in your life. The best part is that you can.

And you do. You feel greedy, your hands reaching out to smooth over his chest, down his abdomen, your eyes half-lidded and lips parted in a daze. 

Yoongi lets you touch all you want, but when your hands move down to cup his erection through his sweatpants, you hear his breath hitch as he stops you, shaking his head and pinning your arm to the mattress gently.

“Your turn,” he murmurs softly, throwing your words right back at you. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tilting his head at you as he starts to pull them down, the movement torturously slow. “Wanna see if you skipped the panties, too.”

You lift your hips so he can pull them down the rest of the way. You are not, in fact, wearing panties, because you were going the fuck to sleep originally, and you hear him suck in a breath after the shorts are discarded.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he breathes. You ignore the funny thing your heart does in your chest at his words, opting instead to focus on his hand drawing closer to you.

You both moan when his fingers slide over you, finding you soaked once again.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses as he gathers your slick with his fingers. He drags them slowly up to your sensitive bundle of nerves and circles around it, only to slide back down again, repeating the motion again and again. You moan every time he reaches your clit, your hips bucking up into his touch.

“This pussy,” he starts, and you lift your head at sudden motion as he sinks down to lay on his stomach, holding himself up with his elbows, “gets so fucking wet for me.”

His pupils are blown as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, just like last time, but instead of going right for it, Yoongi starts pressing kisses to your thigh. Your head falls back onto the mattress again, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he continues to speak. 

“Been thinking about this all week,” Yoongi mumbles into your skin, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, forcing a gasp out of you. “You make it impossible to focus, you know that?”

A high, needy whine falls from your lips as he suddenly runs the tip of his tongue between your folds, and when you lift your head to watch, he pulls away, his dark eyes meeting yours in a smoldering gaze.

“I could’ve been done with that track on fucking Tuesday,” he says, dipping down again to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, making you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair again. “Do you know how many times I jerked off thinking about being between these thighs again?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whimper, his words conjuring images that make you feel as though you’re coming apart at the seams. Yoongi chuckles darkly, pressing a kiss to your clit.

“Yeah, that’s my girl,” he praises, his tone so dark it sends a shiver down your spine. “Gonna make you say my name like that again, baby. You want it?”

“Yes,” you gasp out without a second thought. You need his mouth on you so bad you feel like you’re going to explode. “Shit, please.”

“So polite.”

Yoongi doesn’t make you wait any longer, his head dipping back down again so he can taste you properly, the flat of his tongue licking slowly over your pussy.

“Thank you,” you moan, the words slipping out completely outside of your control. Yoongi’s movements pause for just a fraction of a second, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the worry that ‘thank you’ was a fucking weird thing to say to the guy eating you out. But then you feel Yoongi’s responding moan right into your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head, and his tongue resumes its movements. 

True to his word, he’s taking his sweet time, savoring every bit of you, but you don’t fucking care. You want his cock, desperately, but he can stay down there for hours if he really wants to so long as it feels like this.

You lose track of time, your thighs trembling around his head as you lose yourself in the feeling of his tongue, but you’re quite literally yanked back into the moment when Yoongi lifts his head again, forcefully dragging you closer and latching his lips around your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck—Yoongi, fuck!” you cry out as Yoongi makes it abundantly clear that he’s no longer interested in dragging this out any longer. The way he’s eating you out now is going to make you come, and soon. 

You can hear the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you, even over the blood pulsating through your ears, even over the way you’re moaning for him as your orgasm barrels closer. 

Your fingers pull at his hair, your hips shifting to grind against his tongue, and he moans into you again, his hands grasping at your hips to help you move. You take the action for what it is: he wants you to come. Like, now. Well, he doesn’t have to fucking tell you twice.

For the second time, you come from Yoongi’s tongue, writhing beneath him as you moan helplessly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your muscles clenching and unclenching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. 

Yoongi works you through it, but unlike last time he can sense your impending overstimulation before you need to push him away, shifting to sit up on his knees as you catch your breath. 

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, running his hands over your body as his eyes trail over you appreciatively. 

Shit, he’s one to talk. He looks so hot like this, his hair a mess from your pulling, his lips and chin slick from your pussy. 

Not to mention, just like last time, he’s so fucking hard. The only difference is that this time, he’ll let you have it.

“Wanna touch you,” you breathe, already pushing up shakily to slide your hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Yoongi makes no move to stop you, his breath hitching as your hand wraps around him.

His length feels thicker than you expected in your hand, your mind instantly wandering to how it’s going to feel inside of you very soon. You don’t think you’ve ever taken something this thick before, and you want it so fucking bad.

“Shit, baby, just like that,” Yoongi grits out as you start pumping him slowly, his hips bucking forward into your hand. “Feels so good.”

You lean up to capture his lips with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss quickly turns sloppy and desperate, lacking all finesse but somehow still so goddamn sexy. All the while, you keep touching him, his breath coming out shaky through his nose as he licks into your mouth with heat. 

When your grasp on his cock gets a little firmer, his hips stutter and his hand comes up to grasp your wrist again, urgently halting your movements.

“Gotta stop. ‘m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he says, pulling away. There’s a flush in his cheeks, spreading down to his chest. It’s almost cute, but then he opens that fucking mouth again, his eyes locked on yours. “Wanna come inside you.”

Fuck.

“Yeah,” you breathe in agreement, nodding jerkily and pulling your hand from his pants in an instant. “Want that. Fuck me.”

Yoongi groans, his eyes shutting tightly. He shakes his head. “Need a minute,” he says, his voice almost pained. “Fuck, you’re too much.”

He busies himself with reaching over your body and across the bed, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. You keep your hands to yourself, ignoring the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch again. If he needs a minute, he can have it. You’ve waited this long.

Once his body returns to yours, he tosses a condom next to you on the bed before dipping down to kiss you again. His lips are gentle on yours this time, slow and almost sweet, unlike any way he’s kissed you so far. The chasteness of it throws you off, but it isn’t necessarily unwelcome—not from Yoongi, at least. He’s probably just trying to chill the fuck out so he doesn’t come too fast, you reason.

After a few minutes, though, Yoongi’s lips part from yours and he presses one last kiss to your temple, reaching for the condom beside you.

“Ready?” he asks, the edge of the foil packet held between his teeth as he sits up, using both hands to push his sweatpants down.

Your eyes are glued to him as he rips the packet open carefully, rolling the condom onto his cock. Your imagination never would’ve done him justice. The sight of his long fingers wrapped around his length is enough for your last thread of patience to snap.

“I think I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now,” you say honestly, your eyes unmoving from his cock, and he laughs, sliding a hand up your thigh.

“Dramatic,” he teases, his fingers trailing over your pussy, ensuring that you’re still wet enough to take him. “You think you’re ready for it?” he asks, two fingers prodding at your entrance before they start fucking into you easily. 

You whine, your back arching as his fingers scissor inside your pussy. “Can’t wait anymore,” you gasp out, and he relents, withdrawing his fingers to wrap them around his cock, shifting so he’s over you again.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing yours at this proximity. You feel the blunt head of his cock running through your folds, one last tease, before he lines himself up with your entrance. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Promise.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he slowly eases in, his breath shuddering next to your ear as he fills you bit by bit. The stretch makes your head spin, but Yoongi takes his time just like he promised, rubbing your hip soothingly to keep you relaxed.

“Finally,” you breathe when he finally bottoms out, and he laughs.

“Yeah? Gonna thank me again?” Yoongi jokes, but the way his cock twitches inside you betrays the way he really feels about that.

“Maybe when you make me come,” you quip in return, but his hips draw back, giving an experimental thrust back into you, and suddenly nothing is all that funny anymore.

You both moan, and Yoongi trails his nose up the side of your neck as he does it again, setting a rhythm of long, slow strokes.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, the wrecked sound of his voice sending a flare of arousal through you, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “You feel so good.”

All you can do is moan in response, your arms looping around his shoulders, hands in his hair. “Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he grits out, fucking into you just a little bit faster, a little bit deeper.

“Like that,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his hair out of desperation.

“Yeah?” he groans, snapping his hips into you with more force now. “You want it harder, baby?” At your choked ‘yes’, it’s like a switch has flipped, Yoongi’s hips snapping into you so forcefully you see stars, your thighs beginning to shake on either side of him as he slams into you.

His hands smooth up your thighs, deep thrusts continuing uninterrupted as he positions your legs, pinning your thighs between your bodies so you’re practically folded in half, and oh, fuck. The angle change makes the head of Yoongi’s cock hit the spot that makes you cry out, your nails dragging down the length of his back as you become instantly aware that you’re going to come soon.

“Mm–Yoongi, fuck, please don’t stop—I’m so close, please—”

“Taking me so good,” he groans. “Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come, I’m right there with you.”

You obey instantly, your hand sliding down between your bodies to rub your clit with two fingers. Your walls flutter around him, making him hiss as you teeter on the edge of your impending orgasm.

Yoongi braces himself, held up with his hands on either side of you. It’s his eyes on you, his lip between his teeth as he watches you touch yourself that finally sends you hurtling over the edge. You squeeze tightly around him as you come, your body convulsing under him as the pleasure washes over you, his name falling from your lips over and over.

“Nghh, good girl, shit,” he grunts, the rhythm of his hips instantly becoming erratic. “Fuck, Y/N. Gonna come.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel Yoongi’s body tense, his cock pulsing inside of you as he spills into the condom with a groan. He drops down to his elbows carefully, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips moving languidly over yours. 

You kiss him back, but after a few moments you’re suddenly hyper aware of how… intimate this feels, kissing like this as he softens inside of you. You pull away to look up at him. “Thank you,” you say, grinning tiredly as you try to break the tension surrounding the moment.

It seems to work, because Yoongi laughs breathlessly, pulling out of you with care and shifting off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “Funny,” he says.

You take the opportunity to sit up, despite your body feeling like jelly. You don’t think you can take Yoongi cleaning you up on top of what just occurred.

“Bathroom?” you ask, heading to it when he points you in the right direction.

You clean yourself up quickly, and when you return Yoongi is, mercifully, dressed again and retrieving your shorts from the floor for you. You take them with a small, grateful smile, pulling your shorts and top back on.

“So you got your track done?” you ask, trying to make some light conversation.

Yoongi scoffs, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Few hours ago,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you a little funny. Whatever he’s thinking, though, he doesn’t say it. “How was your week, anyway? I know I was a little M.I.A.”

You brighten the slightest bit at his question, joining him on the bed. “Actually,” you say. “Something pretty cool happened yesterday afternoon.”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of got entrusted with this huge assignment. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull it off, but if I do, it’s a career changer, for sure.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, grinning at you. “That’s great, Y/N. You deserve it.”

His praise makes you blush, looking down to pick at a loose thread on his comforter. You only blush because you know he means it. Yoongi actually reads your stuff. Rina doesn’t even really read your stuff, and she’s your best friend. But maybe it’s because Yoongi is in the music industry and the stuff you publish is more interesting to him.

Yoongi is in the music industry.

It’s like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you shift closer to him.

“Actually,” you say. “I’m kind of struggling with it? And I was wondering, um… I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out a little bit. Do you happen to know Jang Yijeong?”

Yoongi stiffens next to you, not a lot, but enough for you to notice from this close. “Yeah, I know him,” he says anyway. “We’re friends.”

You’re confused by his reaction, but you soldier on. “I just need an interview with him. I need someone he can trust to set me up with him so he doesn’t give me scripted bullshit, you know? And… If you could be the one to do that, it would make my life a million times easier, honestly.”

For a long moment, Yoongi says nothing, not really looking at you. You don’t know what you said to get this reaction out of him, but you don’t like it, and you’re about to take back your request entirely when he speaks again.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him,” he says. He’s looking at you now, which makes you relax a bit.

“Really?” you ask softly. “Only if you’re okay with it, but it would seriously be a huge help.”

“Yeah, I’ll put in a good word,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. He suddenly seems much less stiff, like whatever weird moment that just took place has passed now, and he laughs. “Just promise you won’t make me regret it.”

At ease, you snort, rolling your eyes. “I promise,” you say flatly, nudging his shoulder with yours. Your voice softens. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he says easily, getting up from the bed and making his way to the door. “Have you eaten? I’m gonna make kimchijeon.”

Yoongi really is saving your ass. After fucking you so nicely, too. And now he’s making you midnight kimchijeon!

“That sounds good,” you call after him, smiling to yourself after he’s left the room.

Yeah, you can get used to this.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @butterymin @coffeedepressionsoup

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[kithtaehyung]

upcoming: yoongi’s interlude: fugue pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; [redacted] ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: fugue—in music, a compositional procedure characterized by the systematic imitation of a principal theme in simultaneously sounding melodic lines. note: well, the first interlude was a total surprise. but now.. y'all know what this is basically gonna be :')) note 2: interestingly enough.. that sugafree video came at the best possible time for this banner to be done (and you'll also find out why i'm shook when this drops.) like i'm speechless. warnings: posted at drop date  est. drop date: oct. 2023 est. word count: 8k 18+ 3tan taglist: form here

[inkjam-moon]

Code of Silence Ch 7 - The Fire (M)

Genre: Mafia AU, FLUFF, smut

Member: Min Yoongi

Word Count: 9.1K

TW: swearing, mafia talk, sex talk, drug mention, death mention/death, creampie mention, the l word, cunnilingus, eating out, fingering, break ups, cock warming, fire, arson, murder

AN: Hi... uhhhhhhh yeah my first fic back and it feels so right *kiss*

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"Wait, what did you say?"

He looks at you, suddenly seeming nervous. “I-I’m sorry…” he mumbles. “It just slipped out.”

You nod once, stilled in thought as you process the moment. 

“Y/N-ah?” Yoongi looks up at you, grabbing your chin.

“Sorry.” You shake your head and force a quick smile, realizing that you’re still on top of him, and he’s still inside you. “Shower?”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze lingering on yours before he nods in return. You gingerly raise your hips, whining a little as he slips out of you and his cum begins to drip from your center.

“Oh shit. I-I didn’t mean to…” Yoongi gestures to the white drops now decorating his lap. 

You tilt your head as you stand up before you realize exactly what he’s talking about. “Oh…” It’s barely a whisper. “D-don’t worry about it.” You mumble, shaking him off as you collect your discarded clothes. That's not something you can bring yourself to think about at the moment. You help him up off the couch and lead him through his room and into the bathroom. 

You don’t talk much as you shower, feeling like your brain might be smoking from just how fast it's reeling. Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice as he presses up against you, his hands gently resting on your waist for a few moments before he starts washing your back for you. When you’re finished, you exit the shower first and change into your pajamas before climbing into bed and pulling the covers up to your chin. 

He said he loves you… 

Yoongi jumps into bed with you and snuggles up to your back, much like he does every night, his arm draped over your waist.

Yoongi said he loves you… 

You feel his breathing even out behind you as he falls asleep.

What the fuck are you supposed to do?

You're avoiding Yoongi. You know you’re avoiding him. He knows you're avoiding him. Hell, who doesn't know you’re avoiding him. All you know is that ever since those three words fell from his lips, your brain gets all fuzzy when you’re near him. 

It's been almost a week, and you've said maybe three entire sentences to Yoongi in passing. Every morning before he wakes up; you’re already gone, and every night when he gets home, you’re already in bed. You rarely stop by the club unless something desperately needs your attention. You spend most of your days either at your parent’s house, reminiscing about when things were simpler; or wandering the park, with Seokjin or Namjoon at your side as a guard. You visit your  parents twice, but you don’t know what to say to them either, only replacing their flowers with fresh ones. 

It's not that you don't love Yoongi. It’s that you’re not sure if you love Yoongi. To you, love is a strong word. A dangerous word.

There are definitely feelings inside you for Yoongi of some capacity, you’re simply trying to sort through them before you say anything, and that seems to be more difficult than you originally thought it was going to be. 

There are too many questions running laps around your mind to decide on anything. Why can’t you bring yourself to trust anyone else? Could Yoongi ever actually fall in love with you? The girl from hell? How could you ever let him get this close to you? You’re so incredibly fucked up after all. You blame yourself.

You’ve watched more loved ones get lowered into the ground than anyone should have to and that makes you terrified to lose him the same way you seem to lose everyone else. You want to love again… but can you? You appreciate that he hasn’t pressed you about it, not that you’ve given him a chance to. He’s too busy planning his infiltration of Busan anyway.

Today you’re sitting on a blanket at the park, enjoying the early October air as you read next to the pond, sprawled out on a blanket. Seokjin is sitting on a bench a few yards away, his eyes flitting between you and the crowd around you both. You’re almost through the shitty romance book you picked up, and when you finish the chapter you’re on, you feel a heavy sigh leave your body; the main characters have just confessed their love for each other. Even your book knows you're avoiding him.

Seokjin’s gaze flicks back to you, raising an eyebrow at the sound. “Something the matter?” He questions. 

You slot your bookmark into its place and slam the book shut. “Yes. There is.”

He raises both eyebrows at you now. “Go on.” He nods.

“Why does everything have to be about love?”

He snorts at this. “You do realize you’re reading a romance book, right?” His eyes go back to scanning the people around you.

You roll your eyes and toss the book onto the blanket in front of you. “Romance is a sham…” 

“Someone's bitter today.” Seokjin notes. You only huff at him in response. “Does this have anything to do with the fight you and Yoongi are in the middle of?”

“It’s not a fight.” You state. 

“Please,” He scoffs. “Everyone can see you’re avoiding each other.” You know. “You’ve been leaving early, he’s been staying late. Obviously something’s going on.” You know. 

“It is not a fight!” You reiterate, beginning to stuff your things into your bag. 

He shakes his head at you, putting his hands up. “Hey, if you need someone to listen, I am judgment free.”

You look down at the ground, mulling it over, before meeting his gaze once more. “If you tell a soul…”

“It’s not my place.” He shrugs, holding his pinky out to you. You stare at him for a second more before linking your pinky with his and pressing your thumbs together. 

“Okay… do you know the truth about us?”

“You mean, the reason you actually got married?” He nods. “Wasn’t hard to pick up on that transaction.”

“Well, Yoongi and I… We’ve gotten closer.”

“Obviously.” Seokjin snorts. You shoot a glare at him. “Sorry, continue.” 

“So, the other night, Yoongi may have said… That he might… Love me… For the first time…” You trail off, not wanting to say it out loud. “But-!” You continue. “He said it just slipped out. A spur of the moment kind of thing.”

“And what were you doing to elicit such a phrase?” Seokjin furrows his brows at you. You roll your eyes, raising your own eyebrows as you look at him. He gets it. “Ah, I see. Hmm…” He pauses, thinking for a minute. “I mean, it could have been an accident like you said, but-” Seokjin stands, stretching his arms up over his head. “Maybe it wasn’t.” He shrugs.

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean? Yoongi doesn’t love me. He can’t.” You shake your head, gathering your things and standing up. “Right?”

“Well, first of all, how do you feel?”

You shake your head again. “That doesn’t matter.” Seokjin stares at you knowingly. “Ugh, I don't know!” You throw your hands up in defeat. “I don't know how I feel…” You begin to walk away from Seokjin toward the car. 

“Why not?” He asks, following you

“Well, I've never really thought about it before.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” You hiss. “It was a transaction! Everything’s a transaction. It’s all about business, all the time! This wasn’t supposed to be any different.”

“So that's what you’ve been doing for the last week? Thinking?”

“Exactly.” You state.

“Well, now that you’ve thought about it,” He begins. “How do you feel?”

You pause, searching for the right words in your brain to phrase your feelings for your husband. “I… I mean…” You pause again. “I like him?” It comes out as more of a question. 

“Are you sure?”

“I like him.” You repeat. “There’s… There’s this feeling there, but I'm not sure how to describe it.” You explain as you reach the car.

Seokjin thinks on this for a moment. “Well, how do you feel when you’re around him?”

You close your eyes and think about Yoongi, a small smile gracing your lips as you run through the memories you’ve made together since you got married; dancing at your wedding, sharing drunken kisses, opening wedding presents, getting to really know each other, making meals, laughing on the couch, the first real kiss you shared, the first time you felt each other, how you felt when you thought you lost him; something in your brain clicks, and for the first time in a week, the fog covering your thoughts clears. “I don't know…” You mumble. “Do I… Do I love him?”

Seokjin shrugs again. “I mean, you’ve known each other for a long time, so it’s possible.”

“A long time?” You scoff. “I’ve known him for like a year.”

He chuckles at this. “Maybe you don't remember, but you two used to hang out when you were kids.”

“What? No we didn’t. You’re thinking of Taehyung.”

“No, I’m not. This was before you met Taehyung.”

“What are you talking about Seokjin?”

“You’ve known Yoongi since your parents got married.” He explains.  “He was the first friend you met here, but since Taehyung was closer in age, I guess you hit it off with him better. I don’t know the details; I’ve only really seen pictures while he talked about it.”

“Pictures?” As you walk, you think back to times when you were little, trying to remember something, anything from the time before you met Taehyung. A young Yoongi? Maybe. You see it in flashes, barely able to recall. 

“Holy shit…”

“Told you.” Seokjin says as he unlocks the car. “The only difference is, he remembers.”

“He does?” You ask, opening the car door. 

He nods, sliding into the car and you follow. “Like I said. He’s known you for a long time.” Seokjin repeats. “I would be more surprised if he hadn’t developed feelings for you.”

You nod, remembering something you said to Yoongi the night he proposed. We’ll what? Fall in love and everything will be okay? That’s not how this works. Could you have been wrong? “So you think…?”

Seokjin shakes his head as he pulls out of the parking lot. “It’s not for me to say. You need to talk to your husband.”

You need to talk to your husband. Shit. The rest of the car ride is silent as you think about Yoongi. When Seokjin finally pulls up to your apartment building, you sigh, turning to him with your hand on the door handle.

“Thanks, Seokjin.” You offer him a small smile. “For listening.”

“Anytime.” He nods at you. “And please, call me Jin.”

“Jin.” You get out of the car and lean back down. “Thanks Jin.” You shut the door and wave as he drives away. You walk up the stairs into your building and head to your apartment.

You immediately toss your things aside as you shut the door behind you, heading to your room and opening the closet doors. You walk inside to the very back and crouch down on your knees, digging through some old boxes until you find what you’re looking for: three old, dusty photo albums. Your mom loved taking pictures and documented every occasion, so if there’s any proof you knew Yoongi before, it’d be in here. 

You flip through the first one to find nothing but baby pictures; you know they’re in order of your age. You put the first one back and open the second to see it starts when you’re about 2 and goes until you’re 5. You put that one back as well. It’s got to be in the last one. You crack it open, searching for your sixth birthday, knowing you moved to Korea soon after.

The first picture of your mother and father makes your eyes misty, and you stare at it for a moment, loving how happy they looked. You smile to yourself and keep looking. There’s their wedding pictures, including some of you as the flower girl. A picture of your father and Uncle Min. And, wait. Who…? You find a picture of you on the next page at your favorite park, the one you were at today. You’re sitting on a bench, smiling at the camera, and there’s a boy next to you, smiling at you. You slip the picture out of its protective plastic covering and flip it over hoping to find an answer.

Y/N-ah (6) and Yoongi-ah (9) at Moonlight Waterside Park, June 2002.

It's written in your mothers handwriting. How do you not remember this? At all? You flip through the book to see if there’s anything else, but this is the only picture of you and Yoongi. You keep the picture out, putting the last photo book away before heading back out of your room. You place the picture on the dining room table, dumbstruck as you look at it once more. You shake your head as you walk into the kitchen checking the time. It’s already 8pm. Perfect. You have about four hours before Yoongi gets home if he stays out late again. You start up the oven, readying yourself to cook a very special dinner.

.

After all the food is set, you run back to the kitchen to grab a lighter. You managed to whip up some choice steaks you had saved, perfectly medium rare, seasoned with salt and pepper the way you know Yoongi likes, along with smashed garlic red potatoes, and a nice mix of roasted veggies.

You set the table beautifully with a red tablecloth and matching candles, pulling out some of the tableware you got as a wedding gift and making both of your place settings look exquisite. You put on a simple t-shirt dress, nothing too fancy, just black, and begin to light the candles. Just as you’re lighting the last one, you hear numbers being punched into the keypad and sure enough at 12:07, the door opens quietly and Yoongi walks inside. He doesn’t see you at first, his eyes adjusting to the dimness of the low kitchen lights.

“Y/N?” He tilts his head, taking in the scene. “What’s going on?”

“Dinner.” You state simply. “I figured you were tired of eating out every night.” You look over at him to see his dress shirt is unbuttoned about halfway down his chest, and he’s not wearing anything under it today, his bare skin catching the flickering reflection of the candles. His hair is tousled messily as he runs a hand through it, his eyes meeting yours, confusion evident on his features as he walks over to the table. 

“Steak?” He licks his lips as he takes in the sight before him. “Smells amazing.”

“Have a seat.” You gesture to his chair. 

He hesitates for only a moment before taking his seat. You grab the bottle of wine from in front of you and pour him a glass before taking your seat next to him and pouring one for yourself, the picture hidden on the seat on your other side.

It’s quiet as you both dig into your meals, the only sound being that of the soft music playing in the background and the clinking of utensils on plates. Every time Yoongi takes a sip of wine, he glances at you curiously, studying the way you’re eating. It isn’t until he only has a few bites left that he finally breaks the silence surrounding you both.

“So I know your birthday isn’t for a few months. Am I forgetting some type of anniversary or something?” He questions. You only shake your head. Yoongi stabs a piece of broccoli and holds it up to his mouth. “Okay, what’s today then?”

You take another sip of your wine. “Tuesday, I think.” 

He chuckles at your smartass answer. “Tuesday…” He repeats. “Got it. Anything else?”

“Just thought it might be nice to sit down for dinner together.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow at your words as he puts down his fork. “Y/N, it's been almost a week since you said anything of substance to me. Am I supposed to believe everything’s just okay now?”

You take the last bite of your food and he watches carefully as you put down your utensils and drink the rest of your wine. “I need to talk to you about something.”

He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. “Something?” He questions. You nod. “I’m all ears.”

You pause to gather yourself, taking a deep breath before you begin. “Yoongi I… I appreciate that you gave me space this week. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I have something important we should discuss.” You state.

“Do you… want a divorce?” He asks quietly. 

“What? No, that’s not-” You can't help but giggle. “You thought I was going to ask for a divorce?”

“I mean,” He shrugs. “Didn't seem like there was any other option.”

“I don't want a divorce Yoongi. But I do have a question for you.”

“Oh?”

You grab the picture from where you hid it next to you and hold it to your chest. “I was talking to someone today-”

“Jin.”

“-Jin.” You agree. “And he told me something interesting about you.”

“What’s that?” Yoongi leans back in his chair.

“He told me,” You hold out the photo to him. “That you remember this.”

Yoongi takes the outstretched photo from your hand and studies it closely, a small smile gracing his lips when he realizes what exactly he’s looking at. “Of course I do.” He runs his fingers across the photo fondly. You stay silent waiting for an explanation. “This was one of the last days before you met Taehyung.” He begins. “Our moms took us to the park to get ice cream because we were driving them crazy. Not long after this was taken, you smashed your ice cream cone on my head.” He chuckles, reliving the memory in his mind. 

“What?” You snort. “Why?”

“Because I told you girls had cooties.” He hands the photo back to you. “That was pretty much the end of our friendship. When my mom told me to apologize a few days later, you had already met Tae and seemed to have forgotten all about me.” He finally meets your gaze, his brown eyes endearing.

“Why don’t I remember?” You ask, more to yourself than him.

“Probably because I was a little older.” He explains. “I think it had more of an impact on me anyway.”

“Why’s that?” 

“I didn’t think you had cooties. I had a crush on you.”

“Y-you did?” You lean closer to him. 

He nods, placing his hands on top of yours where they lay on the table. “My mom teased me about it all the time. But I was too late, and the feelings mostly faded.”

“Mostly?” You rub your thumb across the back of his hand.

“Until the day I was inducted.” He admits. “The first time I saw you again after all the time I spent away at school. I know you were bored out of your mind at that meeting, but I couldn't take my eyes off of you.”

You nod, thinking over Yoongi’s confession. “And… now?” You question.

“And now…” He sighs, taking your hands in his. “Now I know.”

“Know what?” 

“That I never stopped loving you.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes lock onto his, surprised at the admission, but at the same time, the feeling you’ve been trying to describe all week fills you from head to toe. “Yoongi I…” Your words falter and he shakes his head.

“It’s okay, I know.”

“No.” You stop him from pulling away. “You don’t. You don't know anything, do you ever listen?” You huff out a small laugh. He seems shocked by your words and his body goes rigid, waiting for you to continue. “Yoongi I love you too.” You blurt. You’re not even sure if you said it out loud. Was that just in your head? “I don't want a divorce, you fucking idiot, I love you too.” You repeat, smiling as you wipe away your happy tears. 

Yoongi is silent for a minute, not daring to move, afraid he’ll wake up if he does. One more beat and suddenly he's pulled you up out of your seat and his lips are on yours. It’s the best kiss yet, needy and passionate, Yoongi letting you know just how long he’s been waiting for you to say those words. He grabs your waist and pulls you flush against his body, taking the breath from your lungs as his lips part yours, kissing you as though his life depended on it. Your hands quickly find purchase around his neck and in his hair, pulling him closer, as if there was any space left between the two of you.

“Y/N-ah…” He pants, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours. “You’re the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

“Yoongi…” You blush, trying to look away, but Yoongi’s lips reattach to yours. Everything feels perfect. Right now, right here in this moment, it feels like your world is finally spinning in the right direction. “I love you…” You mumble against his mouth, making him smile against yours. 

Your hands slip under his suit jacket and it falls to the floor just before he grabs your waist, guiding you backwards toward the table. He carefully picks you up and sets you down on top of it, making the silverware clink against the plates.

“What are you doing?” You giggle as he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face. He only smirks, pressing his lips to yours again as his hands reach up under your  dress, taking hold of your underwear and shimmying them down your legs, stepping out of the way to get them off completely before situating himself between your thighs, gripping them and pressing himself close to you as his lips find your neck.  “Ah~” You whimper as he bites you just under your ear. You know it’s only been a week, but you sure did miss this feeling.  

“Lay back.” He growls, sending shivers down your spine. You obey, leaning back on your elbows, watching Yoongi curiously as he sits down in the chair behind him. He scoots up to you, spreading your legs and wrapping his arms around your thighs, not giving you time to react before his tongue slips into your folds.

“Ah, Y-Yoongi!” You moan, your head falling back at the first ever feeling of his mouth between your legs, reveling in the absolute bliss it brings you, electrifying your senses. 

He groans against you, his tongue making quick, calculated swipes around your clit as he warms you up, not yet touching the sensitive bud. His tongue dips into your entrance and you lay back completely with a soft moan, your hands searching for something to grab and finding the table cloth beneath you. 

“You taste so good, baby.” He mumbles against you, making your body run hot. Once he’s got your cheeks flushing with heat, he finally acquiesces, his tongue trailing up to the sweet bundle of nerves begging for his touch. He flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit, your back arching off the table at the feeling. 

“God~ Yoongi…” You whimper, your hands reaching down and finding purchase in his hair, tugging gently. 

“I should’ve done this sooner.” He chuckles against you, sending vibrations through your core as he brings one of his hands down to tease your entrance, tracing just his fingertips around it. “You look so fucking hot like this Y/N-ah.”

“Don’t stop…” You whine, attempting to bring his mouth to you again, but he ignores you, standing up instead.

“What’s that?” His fingers linger just on the outside of your entrance, dragging them around agonizingly slowly.

“Please, don’t st-ah~!” As you’re speaking, Yoongi takes two fingers and thrusts them inside you, making you gasp out mid sentence.

Your eyes meet his and he lets out a low moan. “God I love when you make that face.” He pumps his fingers slowly in and out. “You just look so… Desperate.” He smirks at you, hitting your g-spot and causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

He pushes you back on the table and leans over, his lips finding your center again. You’ve never known anyone's tongue to move so fast, but it makes your body feel like it's on fire. You chance a glance down at him to see his eyes closed as he ravishes you, seeming as though he thoroughly enjoys pleasuring you like this. The combination of his tongue and fingers has you approaching your high at a record pace, feeling the tingling in your body as it creeps up. 

“Yoongi~” You whimper his name, alerting him as your hands find his hair again. 

“Mmm…” He acknowledges you, he knew first, he could feel it from the light clenching of your core around his fingers. You always do that around his cock before you cum. His tongue flicks through your folds one more time before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently and increasing the rate at which your high hurtles toward you ten fold. Yoongi hooks his fingers up into your g-spot once more, this time his fingers stay there, rubbing against it with his fingertips as your legs tense up around him.

“Fuck~! Yoongi!” You gasp as your orgasm slams into you, making your head swirl with just how good it feels, your back coming up off the table, and your thighs squeezing around Yoongi’s head. Your toes curl as Yoongi watches you, coasting you through it, amazed at just how beautiful you look in this moment. 

You pant heavily as you come down from your high, sweat sticking your back to the tablecloth as your brain attempts to right everything. Yoongi licks up the last of your release, slipping his fingers out of you. He grabs a napkin off the table, wiping his fingers and his chin before finishing off his glass of whine where he stands, still between your thighs. 

“Good dinner babe.” He smirks down at you.

You chuckle lightly, trying to catch your breath. “Yoongi, that…” You begin as he pulls you into a sitting position. “That was-” You’re cut off by the sound of your phone ringing from where you left it on the kitchen counter. 

He smiles at you smugly, motioning for you to stay seated on the table before he walks into the kitchen and grabs your phone for you. He looks at the caller ID and sighs, quickly answering. “Yes, Little Kim?” You sigh as well, knowing that if Taehyung is calling this late at night, it’s not good news. “Yeah, she’s right here, hold on.” Yoongi furrows his brows as he walks over to you, holding the phone out for you to take. 

You grab the outstretched phone and hold it up to your ear. “Tae?”

“Y/N…” His voice is robbed of its usual happy lilt, sounding strained instead.

“Are you alright?” You question, concerned.

“I…” His voice cracks, and you can hear just how hurt he is, his voice barely a whisper. “Jimin broke up with me…” 

“Oh, Taehyung… I’m so sorry.” You respond. Yoongi looks at you, concerned, walking up and placing his hands on your thighs in comfort. He tilts his head as if to ask what's wrong? You hold your finger up, asking him to wait.

“I don't know what to do Y/N, I really liked him.” Taehyung sniffles and you can tell he’s crying.

“Aw, honey it’ll be okay. Why don't you come over here?” You offer. “We can have movie night.”

“Are you sure it's okay?” He asks. Another sniffle. “It's pretty late.”

“I know you’re already out, get your butt over here.” You state.

“Alright. I’ll be there soon…” And with that he hangs up. You frown as you see the call has disconnected. 

“What’s going on?” Yoongi asks, cupping your cheek.

“He got dumped.” You explain, pushing him back and hopping down off the table. 

“Aish, really?” Yoongi shakes his head. “I was hoping to have you for a bit longer tonight.” He pulls you close and kisses your forehead before letting you go. “How long until he gets here?”

You shrug. “I don't know. He always drives around when he’s sad, he could be in Daejeon if he’s been driving long enough.” You sigh again, starting to walk away toward your room. 

“Forgetting something?” Yoongi stops you. You turn back around to see him holding up your hastily discarded underwear, a small smile playing at his lips. You walk back over to him and grab the pair, planting a sweet kiss on Yoongi’s mouth as you do. 

“We will continue this,” You point back and forth between the two of you. “Tomorrow.” 

“Can’t wait.” He kisses you once more before watching you walk down the hall. 

When Taehyung arrives at your apartment, you’ve just finished cleaning up the kitchen. You yell for him to come in when he knocks, grabbing the soju you’d been chilling out of the fridge. As you shut the fridge door, you realize that while you were changing into your pajamas, Yoongi took the picture of the two of you and put it up on display on the fridge. Your fingers reach up to trace over young Yoongi’s face before you turn to greet Taehyung as he walks inside. His usual stylish attire is replaced with sweats and a t-shirt. His eyes are puffy, very obvious lines of former tears tracing over his cheeks.

“Hey…” He mumbles when he sees you.

You place the soju on the counter and quickly make your way over to him, wrapping your arms tightly around him. “I’m so sorry Tae.”

He returns the hug, burying his face in your neck as he inhales deeply. “I just don't know what I did wrong.” He whines.

“The tv’s set up, pick anything you want, I’ll get the drinks and you can tell me everything.” You pull back, rubbing his arms. He nods, making his way over to the couch and flopping down on the cushions. 

You grab the soju, two tall glasses, and some soda to mix it with before making your way back into the living room, putting everything on the table and then seating yourself next to Taehyung. You grab the soju and crack it open, pouring some into both the glasses and topping it with just a splash of soda. You push one of the glasses into Taehyung’s hands and he immediately takes a long swig, downing half of it as he settles on some movie neither of you have heard of. 

You take a sip of yours before setting your glass back on the table. You grab the blanket off the back of the couch and throw it over both your laps and Taehyung quickly leans against you, taking another drink.

“Are you two still fighting?” Taehyung mumbles, taking in the absence of your husband for the first time.

“Nah.” You shake your head. “We figured it out. You just get me all to yourself tonight.” You wrap an arm around him as he settles back against your chest.

“Tell him… I appreciate that.” 

“Of course.” You nod, rubbing your thumb across his shoulder where it rests. “Now, tell me what happened.”

Taehyung takes another long sip of his drink and then sighs. “I don’t even know.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what happened. I thought everything was going great.” There’s a pause and you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. Instead, he digs his phone out of his pocket, opening it up to a text conversation and then handing the phone to you.

You grab the phone and begin reading.

Jimin (12:22 am): Taehyung Taehyung (12:22 am): Mm? Jimin (12:23 am): I need to talk to you about something when you get some time Jimin (12:23 am): It’s important… Taehyung (12:23 am): Okay, give me a minute, let me finish this.  Taehyung (12:31 am): Alright I’m done what’s up babe? Jimin (12:32 am): Aish this is harder than I thought it was going to be… Jimin (12:33 am): Taehyung-ah, I really like you, but this isn’t going to work out. Taehyung (12:33 am): What do you mean? Jimin (12:33 am): I mean this. Us.  Taehyung (12:34 am): You… Want to break up? T-T Jimin (12:35 am): I’m sorry Jimin (12:37 am): Honestly I never meant for it to get this far… I didn’t think I would like you as much as I do. There are things that I have to do. And I don’t want you anywhere near them. You can’t be involved.  Taehyung (12:37 am): Why not? Jimin (12:38 am): It just wouldn’t be right. Thank you for everything you told me. I’ll always cherish the time we spent together. Jimin (12:38 am): I’m so sorry. Taehyung (12:38 am): Can’t we talk about this? Taehyung (12:40 am): Jimin? Taehyung (12:47 am): Please…?

The last three messages don’t show as delivered, letting you know that Jimin either turned his phone off, or more likely, blocked Taehyung.

“Wait, he broke up with you over text??” You hand the phone back to Taehyung. “What a dick!”

“Yeah…”

“There are ‘things’ he has to do? What things? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I don't know.” Taehyung shrugs, finishing off the last of his glass before grabbing the bottle and pouring himself another, not even bothering with the mixer. 

“What an asshole. Taehyung I’m so sorry. That’s a really shitty thing to do.” You give him a squeeze. 

“Yeah, it is.” He agrees, downing his entire glass in one go. 

You can tell Taehyung doesn’t want to talk anymore, so you simply settle back and get comfortable. The two of you remain on the couch, drinking and watching movies until the early hours of the morning when both of you pass out on the cushions with the help of the soju; you’re pressed between Taehyung and the couch, spooning him as he snores lightly next to you.  

.

The next morning, or afternoon rather, you wake up with stiff muscles to the smell of something wonderful. You stretch with a groan, your head throbbing as you open your eyes, searching for the source of the scent. Taehyung is still fast asleep, and you give his shoulder a gentle squeeze as you sit up.

The table in front of you has been cleaned of last night's empty glasses and snacks, and on it sits a plastic bag holding some sort of containers, and a note. You reach over your sleeping friend and grab the note, seeing it’s from Yoongi. 

Good afternoon my love,  Here’s some hangover soup for you and Tae, get some rest and I’ll see you tonight. Yoongi

Your heart flutters. ‘My love’. You smile to yourself as you very carefully get up off the couch, attempting not to bother Taehyung. You open the plastic bag to see two large containers of ppyeo-haejangguk. It smells amazing, and it’s still piping hot as you grab one of the containers and a plastic spoon for yourself. You quickly plop yourself down on the floor and open the container, happily digging in.

You get about halfway through when Taehyung finally stirs, sighing heavily with sleep as he rolls over to find where you went. 

“Y/N-ah?” He grumbles.

“Mm.” You respond, mouth full of soup.

“What time is it?”

“Not sure.” You shrug. “Yoongi got us soup.” You nod at the remaining container on the table. Taehyung sits up, rubbing his head, probably feeling just as shitty as you do. He grabs the container and his own spoon out of the bag, popping off the lid, and beginning to eat. “You alright?” You ask after a bit.

Taehyung nods. “I’ll be fine. Just need some time, that's all.”

“Do you want to stay here for a few days?” You offer.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’ve got to help them with this infiltration thing.” When your eyes begin to widen he holds his hand up. “I’m not going, I’m just helping plan. And before you ask, Yoongi’s not going either.”

“Who is?”

“Jongin. He’s already there working in the warehouse, he sent us info two days ago.”

“Ah.” You hope everything goes alright.

“Heard that was your idea by the way?” Taehyung questions, finishing off the last of his soup.

“I just suggested it.” 

“Reminds me of something your dad would do.”

“Me too.” You put your now empty container up on the table and lean back against the couch. 

“So what happened? Between you and Yoongi?”

You sigh, not wanting to bother Taehyung with your happy romance. “He just… he said he loves me.”

“What?” You can feel Taehyung’s eyes boring into you. “When?”

“About a week ago.”

“What were you doing? Was it just a casual thing? Or was it serious?”

“It was uh… right after sex.”

“Oh my god, Y/N what did you say??”

“I didn’t say anything at first, I just ignored it.”

“That’s why you were avoiding him? Then what happened?”

“Well, I was talking to Seokjin and he said some stuff that made sense. I realized that it… It was… mutual.”

“You said it back?”

You nod. “Last night, before you came over.”

Taehyung leans over and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you doll.” He whispers. “You two deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“Thanks Tae.” You mumble into his arm. 

Taehyung pulls away and stands up, stretching his limbs as he does. “Alright, I should head home.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

He nods. “I think I’m going to go out and look for a rebound tonight.”

“Already?” You stand up with him.

“Just makes it easier to get over him.” Taehyung states, grabbing his things. “I’ll text you later, okay doll?”

“Love you Tae.” You wrap your arms around his waist.

“Love you too.” He returns the embrace before slipping his shoes on and heading out, giving you one last nod before he shuts the door. 

.

.

It's been two months. Two months since you said “I love you”. Two months since Taehyung got dumped. It’s a week before Christmas, and two weeks before Taehyung’s birthday and the new year. So far, everything seems to be on the up. You and Yoongi are closer than ever and Taehyung’s been sleeping with anyone that breathes in his direction. He even asked you if you and Yoongi would ever be open to a threesome one night when he was especially drunk and desperate, but you explained that you don’t think your relationship is ready for that. Or if it will ever be ready for that.

Tonight after close, you’re at the bar with Taehyung, waiting for Yoongi, discussing plans for Christmas next week. You’re hosting a big dinner here at the club for the entire family, and you’re still trying to pull things together.

“Okay, and then do you know what your mom is bringing?” You ask Taehyung.

“Probably some sort of dessert like always.”

“Alright, I’ll just put dessert then.”

“So did you figure out a present for him yet?” Taehyung asks, knowing you’ve been having a hell of a time trying to come up with something to give to Yoongi.

You nod excitedly. “I’m going to give him mom’s Steinway. I just have to figure out how to get it into the apartment.”

“You’re giving him… A piano?”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” You pout. You thought Yoongi would love it…

“No, it’s fine. I was talking about how you are going to wrap yourself up for him.” Taehyung smirks at you. “Do we need to go shopping?”

Before you can call him a pig, a different voice asks for your attention and you look up to see the head chef, standing in front of you. “Hey Y/N?” 

“Hey, what's up Seunghan?”

“We’re closing up, do you need anything before I head out?”

“Oh, I didn't realize it was that late.” You state, looking up at the clock on the wall to see it is, in fact, that late. “I should be okay. You guys go home.” You assure him.

“Have a good night you two.” He nods at you and Taehyung before turning and heading out the backdoor. 

“Damn.” Taehyung swears. “I didn’t know it was already 11:30. I guess I should get going too. You want a ride?” He asks as he gets up.

You shake your head. “I’m going to wait for Yoongi. He shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Alright doll. Just remember, you should let him play your keys.” He gives you a wicked smile and you smack him on the arm in disgust before he heads out as well. 

You sigh to yourself and gather your things, making sure the doors are locked before flicking the lights off and heading into the back hallway towards Yoongi’s office. 

You rap your knuckles gently on the door as you crack it open. “Yoongi?” You peek your head inside the room to see Yoongi fast asleep in his chair. You chuckle to yourself as you enter, putting your stack of papers away before walking over to your husband. He looks so peaceful you almost don’t want to wake him. You brush a stray hair out of his face before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Yoongi, wake up.” You mumble against his mouth.

“Mm?” His eyes flutter open and he quickly takes in the sight of you standing in front of him and smiles. “Y/N-ah, what are you doing?”

“You fell asleep, come on. Let’s go home.” You offer your hand to him, but instead of standing, he takes it and pulls you into his lap. His lips meet yours again for a kiss that makes your knees weak, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Do we have to?” He mutters against your cheek. 

“Yes~ We’re the only ones still here!” You giggle, pressing on his chest to get him to separate from you and standing back up. “Let’s go!”

This time he allows you to help him stand. He quickly grabs his things before following you out into the hallway. He locks the door behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, escorting you out to the car. You take the keys from him, deeming him too tired to drive and he only rolls his eyes, climbing into the passenger side before you pull out of the parking lot and out onto the street. Yoongi’s hand remains situated on your right thigh the entire way home, rubbing his thumb against your jeans absentmindedly as you drive. 

.

When you reach your apartment, you both immediately head to bed. You slip on one of Yoongi’s t-shirts before crawling under the covers, waiting for him to do the same. When he does, Yoongi automatically snuggles up behind you, pressing himself against your back as he wraps his arms around you. He places kisses on your shoulder, trailing up your neck and you sigh contentedly, loving the feeling of him against you. After a few moments, however, you feel something else pressing against your lower back. 

“Well, hello.” You giggle. “Didn’t we do this earlier this morning?” You did, in fact you and Yoongi had very soft, very hot shower sex this morning.

Yoongi rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Ugh, I know. I’m sorry baby.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You squeeze his hand where it rests on your stomach. “It’s not like I mind doing it again.” You turn over enough that you can see his face. 

He huffs out a breath of laughter against your skin, placing another kiss on you. “I’d love to, but god, I didn’t realize how tired I am.” 

You frown at this, having just started to think about it made a small swirl of arousal form in your stomach. “Maybe…? Ah, no, never mind.” You shake your head, like Yoongi would ever-

“Maybe what?” He mumbles against your shoulder. “Did you want something?” His hand starts to wander down your stomach, finding the waistband of your underwear.

“I just uh… I had an idea, but I don't know if it's something you’d be into.”

“If you’re into it, I'll always at least try it.” He meets your gaze, and you melt at the way he looks right now. His eyes are heavy with sleep as he gazes at you from beneath the hair that’s fallen across his forehead, his muscular shoulders on full display due to his lack of shirt. He is absolutely delectable and a small whimper leaves your throat at the sight of him like this. 

“H-have you ever tried w-warming?” You ask hesitantly. 

He tilts his head in question. “Warming? Like cock warming?” You nod and he seems to ponder this for a moment. “I’ve never tried it, no. Do you want to? Is it something you’re interested in?”

“It was just a suggestion.” You mumble, suddenly feeling very shy. 

Yoongi kisses your shoulder again before the hand playing with your waistband begins to tug the fabric down your legs. You let him take them off, loving the way his hands caress you as he does. When he gets them off, he tosses your underwear on the floor before his hand slips back under the covers and removes his own. 

Once you’re both naked from the waist down, Yoongi’s hand finds your ass, caressing it gently before he carefully lifts your leg. You can feel his half hard length slide against your folds and you let out a small gasp. 

“Are you ready?” He whispers in your ear, his lips quickly finding your neck as you nod. You reach your own hand down and gently guide Yoongi’s length inside you, moaning as he stretches you open without any preparation. He grunts once he’s fully seated inside you, dropping your leg and wrapping his arm back around your waist. “Fuck, you always feel so good.” He groans, his breath hot on the back of your neck. You whimper, his words making you feel hot as your core contracts around his rapidly hardening length. 

“Yoongi…” You whimper.

He chuckles behind you. “This was supposed to make you fall asleep, not turn you on more.”

“Kiss me.” You turn as best you can to face him while he’s still inside you. His hand comes up to cup your face and he places the gentlest kiss on your lips, lingering for only a moment before pulling back and placing another kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight Yoongi.” You smile at him before turning back over. 

“Goodnight my love.” He responds, rubbing your arm lightly as you both settle down to sleep. You relish in the feeling of Yoongi inside you, but try not to think about it too much lest your own body give it away. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to feel heavy, and soon enough, you’re lulled to sleep by the sound of Yoongi’s soft breaths. 

.

Your sleep doesn’t last long, unfortunately. Shortly after four in the morning, Yoongi’s phone begins to ring loudly, he tries to silence it, but it just keeps ringing. As he rolls over to grab it off the bedside table, slipping out of you in the process as you whine in protest, your phone starts ringing as well. That’s never good. You are both suddenly wide awake and you scramble to grab your phone, seeing Taehyung’s name flashing on the screen. You answer it immediately. 

“Hello?” Your voice is still slightly laced with sleep as you listen. 

“Y/N-ah… It’s bad.”

“What’s going on?” You ask, flinging the covers off as you leap out of bed, immediately searching for clothes and notice Yoongi doing the same out of the corner of your eye. 

“It’s… It’s your parents house. Someone- you need to get down here immediately.”

“We’re on our way.” You hear yelling and loud sirens in the background as Taehyung hangs up the phone, yelling at someone to watch out. 

Yoongi grabs the car keys off his dresser and you both sprint out the door and down to the car. “Taehyung said it was my parents house.” You explain as you slam the passenger door shut.

“Dad said the same thing.” Yoongi starts the car and quickly pulls out onto the main road, not even buckling his seatbelt. 

“Did he say what was happening?”

Yoongi only shakes his head, pressing the gas pedal to the floor as he speeds down the road, weaving between the few cars that are out this early in the morning. As you’re driving, your heart finds its way into your throat when a fire truck flies past you. And then another. As you get closer, sure enough, you see an orange glow in the distance, black smoke billowing up into the clear winter sky. 

“No… no, no!” Yoongi has barely pulled the car to a stop before you’re throwing open the door and sprinting toward your parent’s house, now fully engulfed in flames. 

“Y/N-ah!” Yoongi calls after you, scrambling to turn the car off and catch up to you, but you’re not listening. You begin crying, but as you step onto the curb, you are immediately grabbed by a very strong pair of arms. 

“Joka, you can’t.” It’s Big Kim. 

“Let me go!” You screech, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene before you. 

“There’s nothing you can do!” Big Kim yells, trying to get you to listen to him. There’s nothing you can do. The words repeat over and over in your mind as Taehyung appears in front of you. 

“Y/N…” He nods at his father to release you and you fall into his arms, quickly shaking him off and walking to the sidewalk where you immediately fall to your knees, unable to do anything except watch as the fire rips apart your childhood home. The one remaining place you had to connect you to your parents. The only place where you could still touch their things, still smell them on their clothes, still feel them in the room with you, was disintegrating before your very eyes. Everything you had was finally gone.

“Abeoji!! Eomma!!” You wail in desperation, feeling Taehyung’s arms wrap around you as always, tears streaming down your face, screaming until your throat is raw, causing a few of the firemen to turn and look at you as they run past. A few moments later you feel a second set of arms around you as the window that used to be your bedroom shatters with an explosion that shakes the ground beneath you. 

“Y/N-ah…” It’s Yoongi. He rubs your back soothingly as you sob. 

“Do you have her?” Taehyung asks when he hears his name being called. Yoongi nods and Taehyung disappears. 

Yoongi pulls you close and you weep into his chest, listening to the sweet nothings he whispers to you. “It’s okay Y/N-ah. I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you my love.” His mouth rests against your head where he presses intermittent kisses of comfort. 

Just like Big Kim said, there’s nothing you can do but sit and watch your home burn to the ground. The firemen do the best they can, using water truck after water truck, but they can only contain the fire at best, something is fighting against them from the inside, making it nearly impossible to extinguish. 

.

A few hours later, as blue hour creeps over the horizon, the fire has died down, leaving only a few smoldering piles of rubble left to be put out. You’ve been moved to the bench across the street, your eyes never leaving the sight before you as Yoongi sits next to you, rubbing the spot between your shoulder blades with one hand and holding your hand with the other. You shiver, but not from the chill of the early December morning, from the emptiness you feel inside you. 

Yoongi’s father walks over to where you sit, kneeling down in front of the both of you and looking up at you, but you can’t look at him, your eyes remaining fixed on the piles of ash across the way. You feel a hand on your thigh. 

“I’m so sorry joka…” Uncle Min whispers, giving you one last look before turning to Yoongi. “This,” He takes something out of his pocket and hands it to his son. “Was nailed to the door when the firefighters first arrived.” This is enough to get your attention, and you look over to see a picture with burn marks around the edges. The picture is of you and Yoongi, smiling on your wedding day. 

“Do you think…?” Yoongi looks up at his father, already knowing the answer to the question he’s asking. 

Before Uncle Min can respond, the question is answered for him, there’s a commotion coming from the front yard as you hear someone yelling to ’not touch him’. All three of you rise to your feet, running across the road to the smoldering house. You follow the voices into the hollow where the front entrance used to be before you are quickly stopped. Not before you see the charred remains of a person laying on the burnt floorboards in front of you. Big Kim is leaning over examining the remains when he looks up to meet your gaze. 

“Who?” Is the only panicked word you can muster.

Big Kim shakes his head before looking at Yoongi. “Moon Jongin.”

The name shoots terror through your veins. Moon Jongin. The man that was supposed to be undercover in one of Busan’s drug warehouses right now. 

“But-”

“Shit!” Yoongi curses, walking away and running a hand through his hair. You follow close behind. “He must’ve been found out.” Yoongi thinks out loud. “He probably gave them this as the place we lived instead of our real address because he didn’t know it.” He pulls the picture of the two of you back out of his pocket, looking back and forth between that and the charred remains of the house. 

“So then this fire…” You put the pieces together.

Yoongi nods, pulling you close. “Was meant for us.”

.

.

Copyright © Inkjam-Moon 2024

[nostxlgiax]

might not have (did not loose) | knj

title: might not have (did not loose) | knj

pairing: kim namjoon x reader

genre: drama, angst, smut (eventually)

word count: 6.1k words and counting

status: work in progress

synopsis: he's all she's ever known, til she knows nothing at all.)

warnings: descriptions of car accidents, descriptions of injury, depression, memory loss, temporary amnesia, mentions of medicine, flashbacks, non sexual intimacy, strangers to friends, friends to lovers. slow burn, eventual romance, eventual sex, (more tags to come)

"he feels familiar—" she explains with a frown. it makes her head too heavy and hot to find the words. "—like someone you've seen before? somewhere? everywhere?"

she sees him in the hall, talking animatedly in a way she wants to reserve for herself.

it's selfish.

senseless.

"—like someone you can't forget."

© copyright ciani jayde 2024

Keep Reading on AO3

note: hey there babes ! this is a [chaptered] work in progress that i'm so happy to share with you'll. if the aforementioned warnings and added tags look like your thing, let me know ! i’ll add any to the taglist. a masterlist of current, upcoming, and posted works will be created eventually; if you have any writing prompts you’d like me to fill, drabbled/request, send an ask ! ✧∘*

[violetsiren90]

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

Table of Contents: Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni), realistic depictions of cancer and cancer treatment; mention of unfeatured character death (previous to plot); emotional health growth and development; eventual smut; feelings and dealing with feelings (no, but seriously, so many feelings)

Author's Note: First and foremost - Blame Me chapter 1 will still be tentatively dropping by the end of the week. However, this just literally wrote itself last night after a couple of drinks and several streams of Lonely 💔. It was the thing that just poured out of me and could not be stopped. It's been simmering in the back of my brain for a while, and so, now that it's out here, I'm going to be posting it in tandem with Blame Me, probably on alternate weeks (if I can manage it, 😅). I want to give credit to those whose works I have read which have come to set the stage for my concept of the soulmate au, and who are far my betters in creative artistry: Matchy, author of balls-to-the-walls masterpiece Trip No Further, Fallencairns, author of lovely work of art Turbulence, and @teenagebountyhunter , to whom I dedicate this work 💜 the author of the ineffably beautiful Namjoon soulmate fic Bloom (RUN to read this immediately) - the inspiration for what is to humbly follow below. If you're checking this out, thanks a million for reading, and please don't be shy in offering feedback should you be so inclined! (Baby fic writer here, constructive criticism always welcome!)

Without further ado, chapter one is under the cut.

P.S. Tag list is open. If you want in, let me know. 😊

P.P.S. In case no one has told you today, you're loved and worthy of love. 🧜💜

“When your hands leap towards mine, love, what do they bring me in flight? Why did they stop at my lips, so suddenly, why do I know them, as if once before, I have touched them, as if, before being, they traveled my forehead, my waist?”

~ Pablo Neruda

Chapter 1: The Cure

Diana dipped another three fries in ketchup and popped them into her mouth.

"So, what do you need to talk about that has you desperate enough to buy me lunch?" She smiled smugly and sipped and her milkshake.

You hadn't touched the burger in front of you, even if you probably should be absolutely relishing in it, considering your future prospects. You picked up a sweet potato fry and stared at it absently.

"I found my soulmate," you stated flatly.

Diana's jaw dropped mid-chew, unpleasantly framing the masticated remains of a mouthful of turkey club.

"Wait, are you serious?" she pressed, round hazel eyes wide and unblinking.

You dipped the fry down into the little cup of ranch and swirled it around slowly.

"Actually, he found me. Well, his people found me," you continued. 

"Huh? So is he some kind of a big deal - wait...they found you? What does that even mean? Wait, no - you have a soulmate?!"

You smiled ruefully. It was kind of nice to see someone else freaking out about it for a change. You had known your little sister would react strongly, which is why you had waited until now give her the news.

"Y/n, ANSWERS," Diana demanded leaning forward to flick your forehead. 

"Ow!" you protested, rubbing the throbbing spot on your brow. "Keep your pants on, geez!"

You sighed. After having relayed this story to your mom, your doctor, a specialist, legal advisory, your best friend, your brother and his wife, and your very disappointed boss, you had gotten pretty good telling it. Yet, somehow, each time the burden of it's truth felt a little heavier. You ate the fry. It was pretty good. You wished it had sucked so it wouldn't be one more edible thing you missed the prospect of.

"So apparently, a couple of years ago a university in Switzerland found a way to match soulmates using DNA testing. Don't ask me about the exact science of it - I do not understand it. What I do know is that it's illegal to use this technology to locate your soulmate in the US."

"Why?" Diana had abandoned her food and was listening with rapt attention.

"Something about privacy rights. Though they've dealt with that issue in Switzerland - people interested in finding their soulmates join a biological registry. I'm sure our government is just waiting to find a way that big pharma can exploit it before they facilitate the process. Anyway, somehow, I ended up in a foreign registry. I guess there is a black market for soulmate data..."

"Oh my god, could I be on the black market?" Diana gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth.

"I guess anyone could, provided they've ever been treated at a hospital, or given blood, or anything of the sort...but calm down! It doesn't even matter unless you have a match, which is rare."

"So he found you on the black market?! That's so fucking sketchy, Y/n."

"It was his company, actually. I got a visit from representatives of an organization called Hybe. They are some kind of South Korean entertainment conglomerate. One of their employees, a musician, is dying of cancer. Seeing if he had a soulmate was a last-ditch effort to save his life. Now everything is banking on me and my cooperation."

You flicked your eyes up to your sister. Her expression had morphed into something far more somber.

"Heavy..." she whispered.

You nodded.

"What are you gonna do?"

You took a bite of your burger. She wasn't going to like your answer. Diana's face changed again, this time registering alarm and indignation.

"No," she murmured, "No, Y/n. You're just gonna do it, aren't you? You're gonna go be the fucking hero! You're going to traipse off to Korea and save his sketchy, ungrateful ass!"

She stood up, her chair screeching back over the concrete and drawing the attention of other diners on the patio. You glanced around apologetically.

"Diana, sit down! And how do you know if he's grateful or not?!" you hissed.

"No!" she countered defiantly, yanking her hand away from where you had reached for it. "You always do this! You never, ever think of yourself. And now you'll be gone forever...is this even safe?"

Tears had started to well up in her eyes, and the glances around you had turned into stares and whispers. You stood up and pulled her into a hug.

"Hey, hey, it's okay! Lets get out of here and I can answer all of your questions, alright?"

She sniffled.

"Okay. But you're not leaving me."

You smiled and huffed out a laugh pulling her toward the parking lot.

You had anticipated that Diana would disapprove of your decision, and it being as difficult a situation as it was, you had decided to make all the arrangements and choices necessary before telling her. She loved you so fiercely, she would have watched the world burn before letting you break a nail, if she could help it.

After your father's death nearly twenty years ago, you had become protector and provider to Diana and your younger brother Henry, three years her senior, in ways your sensitive and unworldly mother seemed unequipped to shoulder. If they had both not been so established and secure in the trajectory of their adult lives, you would have made it clear to Hybe that you regrettably had nonnegotiable responsibilities right where you were. But Henry was settled into a suburb with a lovely wife and year-old daughter, Diana was set to finish undergrad and head off to nursing school, and the deal with Hybe had actually allowed you to leverage for your Mom's retirement, so you were boarding a flight to Korea next week to take on a new set of cares and concerns.

You tossed your keys on the table on your way into your apartment and collapsed onto your comfy red couch. While Diana rooted around your fridge and loudly complained about the lack of hard seltzer, you sorted through the mail and made a mental note to add a forwarding address on a few of your accounts and subscriptions, including the one supplying you with Nightwing comics. You set the mail aside and took a moment to look around you.

You loved your little apartment. The kitchen was small, but the big window with the spider plant hanging in it made it one of your favorite rooms - the herb garden on the counter and the fully stocked bar above the fridge did nothing to make you like it any less. The earthy brown walls of the living space were littered with shelves full of candles and living plants and quirky curios, and in and amongst them hung framed watercolors of flowers and herbs that you had painted yourself. The record player sat at the ready in the corner by the wall dedicated almost exclusively to books and vinyl. There was a small tv over the stone-lined fireplace. Over your shoulder your soft, queen sized bed with sheer canopy cozily called your named from the single bedroom. 

The whole place smelled like citrus and cinnamon. In every corner, there was you. It was going to be hard to leave the hobbit hole you had so lovingly curated for yourself over the last half-a-decade...especially since you wouldn't be going "there and back again", but just...there.

Diana plopped down next to you,  breaking your reverie.

"So, you're NOT going, but tell me about the huge mistake you ALMOST made," Diana prompted as she side-eyed you, taking a sip of the wine she had poured herself.

You set the comic book you had been thumbing through aside and drew your knees up to your chest as you swiveled to face her impatient stare.

"Last week, these three people showed up at my door, two men and a woman, and they said they were from a company called Hybe based in South Korea. One of their employees, a singer named Kim Namjoon, has stage 4 liver cancer. I guess they caught it pretty late in the game, so even the most aggressive treatments aren't doing much good. Back in April the doctor gave him two months to live."

"Damn," Diana interjected softly.

"Yeah, that's why all of this is happening so fast. He needs me as soon as I can get there."

"We need you, too," she whispered, reaching out to loop her finger into the top of your sock. You smiled affectionately.

"I know, Di, but you're a grown woman now and you can take care of yourself. You're going to have to and I know you can. Life really won't be that different - you'll be off to school in San Diego anyway! Most of our hangouts were going to be over Facetime...now you'll just have an excuse for a little international travel."

She heaved a stuttering sigh.

"Speaking of travel...Johnny broke up with me," she mumbled.

Your mouth hung open in shock.

"Oh my god, Di, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you tell me?"

She downed her remaining wine and stared into the empty glass, twirling it between her fingers.

"I was gonna, but when I told mom last week she said to wait to talk to you about it because you were dealing with something stressful. Now I know what she meant."

You shook your head.

"Ugh, Mom..."

Your sweet, nonconfrontational mother, while you loved her deeply, was a horrible communicator. Whenever she got involved things like this always ended up worse. You looked at your sister twiddling with her wine glass. She looked so small. And Diana, while she exuded many things, very rarely seemed diminutive. You grabbed her and pulled her to you, and she instantly snuggled into your chest.

"I'm sorry you've had to hold that in all this time," You said softly, stroking her hair, "You really could have told me. How are you doing? Was it bad?"

She shook her head against you.

"Nah, it wasn't so bad. He's going to travel before starting grad school and wants to 'sow some wild oats'," she answered, flashing air quotes.

You couldn't see her face, but the acerbic nature of her tone told you just exactly what she thought of that concept. You snickered. Atta' girl. You'd never liked that guy much, anyway.

"What an asshole," you remarked.

"Yeah, he better not hit me up in a couple of months when he's done fucking his way through Europe."

"Fuuuuuck that," you commiserated. 

"Yeah, so I thought this summer would be our last hurrah. You know, no guys, just you and me...like old times" Diana mumbled in a voice that was all sulking and bottom lip. 

"Ahhh," you said with a smile, "So that's why you are so disappointed. Well, we still have a few days - we can make the most of them!"

Diana lifted her head from your chest and glared up at you.

"Boys ruin everything!" She whined.

You smirked softly.

"Usually I would agree with you, but the one I'm leaving for seems kind of decent, actually."

Diana frowned.

"How do you know? Did he call you or something? Wait, you never finished telling me your story!"

You hummed in assent.

"I mean, there's not much more to tell. I agreed to move out there to bond with him and begin treatment. I signed a really basic contract that will be revised when he is well enough to think about the future - or in a year, whichever comes first. They were pretty quick to meet my terms, I guess they didn't really have much choice since I was the one holding the all the cards."

"What does any of that have to do with him being a good guy?"

"Oh," you blinked, "It doesn't. You see, when they met with me they talked a lot about him. It was almost like a job interview or something. They talked about his accomplishments, his net worth, the importance of his work, and his worthiness as a person. One of the guys was actually one of his bandmates, and he had come specifically as a character reference. They had initially wanted me to sign the contract right there and then - and let me tell you, that kid they brought with them almost convinced me with his giant puppy eyes alone - but in the end I had asked for forty-eight hours to consult legal advisory and think it over. The first thing I did when they left was look him up. You actually probably already know who he is - I think I might have been the only person in the world who didn't. Have you ever heard of BTS?"

Diana jumped back like she'd been stung, clutching her chest.

"Are you about to tell me that your soulmate is a member of the biggest band in the world?" she whispered, her eyes impossibly wide.

You smirked. 

"Not just a member, Di...their leader." Diana shrieked, leaping up off the couch.

"RM??? Your soulmate is RM???" 

Your sister stared at you, agape, while you threw your hands up in indignation.

"I was the only person!"

"Oh my god..." Diana staggered back, demeanor having deviated sharply from disapproval to elation, "My roommate is obsessed with them! She has all these posters - but her favorite, I'm sorry, her bias, is Suga...holy shit, I can't WAIT to tell her she's gonna-"

"Diana," you interrupted her firmly, and her eyes shot up to you.

"Yeah?"

"You can't tell anyone."

Her face fell as she leaned back against the wall beside the fireplace. Clearly this was going to be even more of an emotional roller-coaster for her than it was for you, you thought in amusement. Typical.

"Everyone who I tell has to sign a gag order. You included."

Diana slid down the wall into a slump and knocked her head back.

"This situation keeps harshing my vibes, dude," she whined.

"Well, I'm exceedingly sorry about your vibes, but I'm sure they'll recover," you rejoined sardonically.

"But woah, Y/n, your boyfriend is hot. And rich. And super famous. Your wedding is going to be fucking LIT..." 

"Woah, Nellie!" You cut her off, waving your hands as if you usher her train of thought into the landing strip of sanity.  "Slow. Down. Wedding?? What happened to 'sketchy, ungrateful ass'?! He is NOT my boyfriend. He's supposedly my soulmate. According to some Swiss pseudoscience. We haven't even bonded yet. And if we do in fact bond, that doesn't mean we're a couple."

Diana popped her head up and fixed you with the most incredulous of stares.

"Um, excuse me...soulmates have to touch each other to survive. And I heard that the soulmate connection is better than sex. You're telling me you have the opportunity, nay, the duty, to be up in the business of one of the sexiest men alive, and you're just gonna platonically kick it for the next seventy years?"

You rolled your eyes.

"I mean, if that's what he wants - if that's what I want. Soulmates doesn't automatically equate lovers. I've been reading about people's experiences and there are some soulmates who bond platonically. Some people are already with romantic partners when they meet. Some don't share a sexual orientation that makes them compatible as lovers..."

"Oh my god, Y/n, could you please not kill the sexy by going all nerd on this?" She asked you in exasperation as her finger swiped at her phone screen.

Suddenly she shoved the phone out toward you, while tapping frantically with a neon yellow acrylic nail on the image she had summoned. She was saying something humorous and complaintive but you weren't listening. You were looking at the man in the photo.

You hadn't seen this one in your superficial search-engine dives. It was a headshot. His hair was a light brown, full at the top and styled away from his face. His skin was darker than in many of the other images you had seen, emanating a beautiful golden glow. He was smiling just enough for his right dimple to softly grace his cheek. His features were strong, masculine, and incredibly handsome. All of that was already striking, but his eyes, oh, his eyes - they were staring directly at the camera, irises only half visible under his lidded gaze, warm and sincere, so incredibly intense.

The hair stood up on the back of your neck and your breath caught in your chest in spite of you. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath. You needed to calm down. He was just a person. Good looking? Yes. Charismatic? Obviously. But you had a job to do, and no time to screw around with schoolgirl daydreams. He probably had a girlfriend. No, definitely, he definitely had one. And hey, he was just a person, like you. No need to be star struck.

Diana had been continuing her rant, completely unaware of being ignored, when she had let out a high pitched squeal of laughter.

"Oh my god...oh my god!" She shrieked.

"What?" You snapped, your hormone-wrestling train of thought cut off abruptly.

She stared at you, lips pressed together as if she was trying to contain more loud giggles.

"What??" You demanded impatiently, your limit for her antics very swiftly approaching.

"RM. K-pop superstar, probably one of the coolest people ever born, gets YOUR dorky ass as a soulmate, HAH!"

"Hey!" you deflated, unimpressed with what she considered to be so vastly comical.

"Oh that poor man!" she pushed dramatically, "That poor, poor man. You're the least graceful, geekiest person in the western hemisphere. What will you even talk about? Good thing you don't speak Korean, you'd probably bore him to death! Shit, at least you're pretty..."

You folded your arms over your chest defensively.

"Hilarious. But actually, he's fluent in English. And I read somewhere that he likes art..."

"Y/n, he's rich," she interrupted condescendingly, "All rich people like art. It's a huge flex to own an original. If I was a billionaire I'd 'like art' too. Oh my god, I just can't believe this is happening. Like he's crazy famous..."

"And very, very sick," you reminded her softly.

Her expression fell into something contrite.

"Oh, shit, I forgot," she murmured.

"I'm glad you're excited for me, Di. It really made me feel a lot better about the whole situation seeing you get some kind of joy out of it. But I can't stress enough that this isn't a fairytale. Who knows how he feels about resorting to this. I guarantee you this is as hard for him as it is for me."

Diana crossed over to the couch and skooched in next to you.

"All jokes aside, he's lucky to have you, Y/n. You love at a thousand percent. Even if you guys just end up being soul-buddies, or whatever, he hit the jackpot," she smiled at you, that sweet smile that made you rethink everything for one split second.

Now it was your turn to try to hold back tears.

"I'm gonna miss you," she murmured, "But I respect what you're doing."

"Now that he's famous?" You prodded with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, now that he's famous," she conceded. 

You pulled her into a hug. The silence that hung around you was pregnant but comfortable. Diana finally broke it with a soft question.

"So you're really going to give your whole life away for a total stranger next week?" she whispered.

"Mmhm," you hummed somberly into her hair.

"Why you always gotta be like Dad?"

A familiar lump began to form in your throat, but you swallowed it back. You always did. And Diana fell asleep in your lap one last time. You stroked her hair as you thought back, rather emotionally exhausted, over your conversation. It seemed like people thought of the soulmate connection as some kind of miracle. You didn't believe in those. People made choices, and those choices governed reality. You had just made the biggest choice of your life, and if it was like any of the other roads you had taken, it would require much of you. 

The following day was your last at work. Your coworkers had greeted you with pizza, cake, flowers, and hugs. It was touching to realize how much you would be missed. Your boss, Shauna, hovered as you gathered you belongings from your desk. 

"Damn it to hell, I'm gonna miss you!" She mourned for the umpteenth time.

You smiled as you tucked your little philodendron into the box, placing it next to the canvas speckled with daisies that read "You Matter" in curly green letters. 

"You have an amazing team here, you guys will do great," you insisted, patting her hand where she leaned on your desk.

"Um, a great team of people you trained!" she said, consoling herself with a swipe of frosting from what had once been a beautiful red velvet cake with white buttercream.

You leaned beside her on the desk, joining her in sadly picking at the dessert remains.

After you had graduated with your degree in social work, you had landed an internship in a program which Shauna was running. The two of you quickly discovered you had similar passions and community goals, and the following year had left the program to start Magnolia Village, a one-stop shop for women's services sadly unprecedented in your area. While the startup had been rough, your passionate duo had believed in the need and refused to say die, and from your mutual blood, sweat, and tears had blossomed a cornerstone of the local community. Over the years it had grown and extended its reach to thousands in need of support. Many of the staff were women who had first come through the door seeking services, and were now your partners in providing the aid they had found empowering in their hour of need.

You were immensely proud of what the two of you had built, but leaving the Village was bittersweet, as you were more confident than ever that it had grown into a well-oiled machine powered by lovely, capable people who could keep it going at full tilt without you.

"This place basically built itself, we just propped up the scaffolding," you remarked, glancing around the building fondly - what had once been a residential fixer-upper was now a cozy space of offices, a nurse's station, six emergency beds, sanitation services, and a food pantry

"Bitch, you know very well that I am the bulldozer and you are the heart and soul of this place. We are going to feel it when you leave. You better come back and visit us. Mirabell is going to do a good job filling your shoes, though. Watching her step up to the plate has been something else." 

"It has," you nodded, "She's going to kick ass. You might just forget I was ever here by the end of next week."

Shauna turned uncharacteristically tearful eyes toward you.

"I will never forget you," she choked.

Then suddenly you were being crushed in a bear hug. You returned her embrace until you thought you might actually pass out from lack of oxygen.

"Okay, I love you, but I'm about to asphyxiate!" you wheezed, slapping her on the shoulder.

She let you go, but grabbed your arm and looked at you seriously.

"I want you to promise me one thing," she said, holding your gaze.

You cocked your head to the side. Shauna released your arm to clasp both your hands in hers.

"I want you to promise me that when you get to Korea, you find something that you're gonna do for yourself."

You started to respond but she stopped you.

"Something for yourself. It doesn't matter what it is, but it can't be for your soulmate, or your family, or anyone else however deserving...just you, okay?"

You looked at her quizzically.

"I do stuff for me..." 

"Don't get swallowed up, baby girl. Find someone to ground you, to remind you that you're worth more than what you have to offer."

You scoffed.

"I'd like to see someone try and swallow me..."

"Y/n,"

"What?"

"Promise me."

"Okay," you nodded, "I promise."

Shauna squeezed your hands, then went back to chipping away at the mass of red crumbs and buttercream.

A little twinge of worry twisted in the pit of your stomach. You were strong. Resilient. No one could bounce back like you, could survive like you. People knew this - they had been telling you so since you were ten years old. So why was everyone acting like you were being cast out to sea without a life preserver? 

You had spent the weekend with your family. Henry and Mercedes had even driven down, Elena in tow, to have one last Sunday dinner and see you off to the airport. Hugs and tears and small parting gifts had made leaving even harder than you had imagined.

When you finally boarded the plane your eyes were red and your head was throbbing. After the plane had gained enough altitude to allow you to unfasten your seat-belt, you had slipped into the restroom to rinse your face. You returned, plopping down next to the man who would accompany you during your first few days of transition.

"I'm getting booze when they wheel it by, Matt, so don't try to stop me," you huffed, gesticulating in mild threat with the book you had extracted from your carry-on at the suited figure sitting in the window seat.

The handsome older gentleman smiled, not lifting his eyes from the copy of the Korean Herald in his hands.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he responded, flipping a large, thin page.

Matt Anders had been many things to you in life. Before you were born, he had been your father's best friend. He had been the best man at your parent's wedding. He and his wife, Rebecca, had cared for you and your siblings during your mother's sanitarium stay. He had tutored you for the SAT score that had earned you a full ride to the university that had saddled you with a BS in social work and minor in English literature. Today, he was your attorney. Matt, who had an IQ of 146, had learned basic Korean so that he could translate for you and make sure that your interests were looked after as you settled in. Having him there made you feel one hundred percent more secure about the process. He, for instance, had been the one in negotiations to ask for the very cush business-class fight accommodations you were new settling into.

"Whatever you would do for him, you'll do for her. I want an equality of treatment clause added with no addendums."

You smiled to yourself as you remembered his exchange with the Hybe's representation. He had asked for things you would have never asked for yourself, and you felt better having access to them knowing that he felt you were deserving.

The flight attendant sweetly asked if you would require any refreshments. You asked for two whiskey and cokes, and handed one over to the man beside you. You took a long, refreshing sip.

"Damn it, I wish I had appreciated food more," you sighed, looking ruefully at your glass.

"What are you going to miss the most?" Matt asked before sampling his own beverage.

"Cheese. I can't believe I'm saying that, but in the end I just love cheese. And there are so many kinds I haven't tried. Do you know there's this Italian cheese that comes in the shape of a pear? It's super expensive because of the breed of cow the milk is sourced from. It's supposedly suuuuper creamy. But, hey, now I'll never know if it's as rich and complex as they say..."

You took another sip of your drink.

"Caciocavallo Podolico," Matt remarked casually, returning to his newspaper.

"Excuse me?"

"The cheese you described, it's called Caciocavallo Podolico," he reiterated.

"You know, I should be used to it now, but I'm not. Don't think I'll ever be. How on earth do you know this stuff?" you insisted incredulously.

"Read it once," he shrugged, "And it's actually pretty famous as far as cheeses go."

"Catch-a-vayo Picadillo..." you murmured.

"No," Matt interjected succinctly. "Anything you want to go over again? We have the time, Lord knows."

You sighed.

"Can't think of anything right now. What did you think of the list of questions I sent you?" 

"Very good," he nodded, "I'll be adding a few of my own, that I think should come from me, if you don't mind."

You swirled the ice in your plastic cup.

"Of course not. Thanks again for coming with me, I'd be pretty lost without you."

Matt smiled at you again, reaching over to squeeze your arm.

"You'd do just fine. But you would be flying coach."

You smirked and cracked open your book. As you flipped to your marked page, a colorful, sturdy rectangle of paper fluttered to the ground at Matt's feet. He reached down and picked it up, regarding it with a curious eye before you could snatch it quickly away and tuck it back between the pages of My Antonia.

"New bookmark?" he queried.

"Something like that," you murmured.

You thought he might press you further about the Hangul characters he had surely noted on the back, but just then the captain's voice crackled over the intercom reiterating the weather conditions in Seoul and you took the opportunity to bury your nose back between the pages. You glanced clandestinely over at Matt, who had settled back into the Korean Herald, before pulling the little watercolor card from between the pages where it had been hurriedly concealed. Your eyes traced over the purple clematis trailing elegantly across the illustration as you wondered if 12 hours was, in fact, a millisecond or an eternity.

-End Ch. 1-

[eleni-cherie]

let's bet whether i'll manage updating a thief's origin tonight or not.

chances are 50-50 haha

[shyminmin]

༄𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐗 𝐟.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Fantasy, Mermaid AU | ༄𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 7.2k ༄𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Panic/trauma and minor angst

Tiny pin-points of light dotted my vision as I ever so slowly came to. They stood out against the dark, roughened backdrop above, shrouding the surrounding area in hues of brilliant blues and greens.

Marveling at the delicate cosmos that seemed to bathe me in its welcoming glow, I was brought to the attention of my other awakening senses.

A soft surface below me, supporting my laid out form as well as an equally comforting sensation covering me from the top, perhaps a blanket? Was I in some sort of bed? It certainly didn’t feel like a regular mattress but at the same time I dare say was incredibly comfortable. If I were to close my eyes again I was sure it wouldn’t be too hard to fall back to sleep.

How did I end up here? Where even is here?

My eyes blinked, clearing the last remnants of my sleep induced vision.

Was it night time? Those lights above resembled stars but also didn’t. The atmosphere was also eerily quiet and strangely had an odd sense of weightlessness to it, like the effects of gravity were significantly reduced. Huh.. weird.

I subconsciously let out a breath not thinking much of it, however to my astonishment I watched as a trail of bubbles appeared from my exhale and steadily floated upwards before eventually dissolving some few feet above me. What th-

Bubbles? I blinked.

Since when do I breathe bubbles? It was safe to say that I was becoming all the more confused by the minute….and a little cautious.

I racked my brain for an explanation. The only instance where creating such an anomaly was possible was if one was…

Realization came barreling into me and my eyes grew to the size of saucers.

If one was… “Underwater..” I weakly verbalized that last word.

Like a switch being flipped my heart skyrocketed as I abruptly shot up into a seated position. Blood rushed to my head in the sudden change of position as I shivered, clutching my throat in concern. I disregarded the current environment I was placed in as my fingers grazed over three distinct grooves on each side of my neck. I felt them open and close causing me to yelp out in surprise, retracting my hand instantly.

“What, what is this!?”

I gasped, my logical brain causing me to think that I was suffocating due to the fact that I was submerged in water.

That’s when flashes of images invaded my mind. Brief memories of scenery, of phantom sensations.

I remember being carried and tossed into water and then… I was in incredible pain.

I continued to squirm and let in hesitant inhales, still weary of not being able to effectively extract oxygen from the water. I tasted the faint acidity of salt as it entered my mouth along with the water. Where I thought it would overwhelm my sinuses it did the exact opposite, rather it somehow sparked little zaps of energy to circulate through me from the top of my head to the very tips of my toe-

Oh god, I can’t feel my toes!

I immediately tried to move my legs but my brain couldn’t identify or locate the certain limbs or muscles associated with them. It was like they didn’t exist anymore. Or more so, like they had merged..

Gulping down another lot of sea water, that somehow felt ridiculously right, I directed my gaze down to my current dilemma. I had been right as my eyes took in the blanket-like material present as it covered me from the hips down. Dark greenish thatching conveniently hiding the mystery that was my questionable limbs…or lack thereof?

My heart thumped and my breath wavered as I froze, at a loss as to what to do next.

Should I lift it up and see the damage or play it safe and remain blissfully ignorant? Oh the choices.

After a few moments I willed myself to snap out of it, furrowing my brows in determination. No Y/n, be strong, you’ve gotten this far – wherever this is – you can do this. You can’t just sit here and be clueless forever!

My inner banter resolved, I shakily gripped the edge of the soft blanket, scrunching it up slightly like one would do a stress ball, because as sure as hell I needed the outlet. The faint aching that had sprouted from deep within the beds of my nails from this very action all the while going completely unnoticed amidst the mental chaos.

Come on, come on, I continued to pester myself. It’s not that hard! Just chuck the darn thing off!

But really, who could blame me for acting hesitant?

Waking up in an unknown place with no indication on whether you’re safe or in danger, on top of not knowing whether you still had functioning limbs was bound to make anyone feel uneasy. Not to mention the fact that my body had seemingly mutated to breathe underwater of all things. Life’s too boring for stuff like this to normally happen. Books or movies yes but not in regular, non-fictional reality. Dreams were another possibility but this felt way too real for that to be the case. I even did the classic pinch on the arm and low and behold an unpleasant prick of pain made itself known.

Dreams..

Up until this point, my mind had been encompassed in a – lack of better words – bubble of amnesia. That was until the subject of dreams irreverently sidled in to pop that pocket of forgetfulness, causing all my previous memories to flood in like the water around me. Past experiences fell into place now creating a clear and concise path on how I found myself in my current predicament.

Dreaming of agonizing nights on the beach…them practically persuading me to come travel to that lonely seaside town. To go there and find the truth…truth of my past, of myself…

Truth of who I really am.

“Ai child, ye be one of 'em... A mermaid."

Mermaid.

Before I knew it, the strange blanket that was previously covering me was flying upwards away from my trembling form. Its unusual trajectory produced a slight undercurrent that gently flowed up and around my face, lifting small tresses of my hair along with it where they flowed and fanned out behind me like strands in a breeze.

But these things were all good and forgotten as something far greater in uniqueness had come and none too kindly knocked them into oblivion to claim that all important first place.

This can’t be real..

No, no..

This can’t be real!?

My body sat stock still, frozen in place; in time... My blood ran cold as it filled my ears, making them ring.

For there, taking up the bottom half where my legs used to be, was a long and sleek tail.

Stemming from my hip bones and just below my navel area, rows and rows of tough yet delicate looking scales made themselves known. They overlapped one another like a finely woven tapestry where they eventually branched away to make way for a wide and sweeping fluke. When I looked a little closer at the-… my fins, I noticed that they were slightly iridescent, as reflected from the strange lighting above me.

What…h-how?..

All I seemed to be capable of doing was to gape and stare intensely and then gape some more. No, maybe that was just my inner gold-fish finally surfacing, I certainly had the physical attributes to pass for one.

My mind, which was a toss between what I can only pinpoint as a nervous wreck and a cautious trance, didn’t process one of my hands slowly reaching forward to graze over a section of my new fishy limb. To my surprise the tiny, plated bits of armor were incredibly smooth, like flat tiles of polished gemstones. But what was even more awe inspiring was their distinctive shade.

Not blue yet not quite a purple colour either, I sat there and contemplated this conundrum. No.. it was moreso somewhere in between those two prominent hues and a perfect combo of them at the same time.

I felt my eyes gloss over then with a strange form of nostalgia, a significant weight creeping up in my chest.

That colour…

It reminded me of lonely days just before or after my countless shifts at work, of staring out of my tiny bedroom window just after the sun had slumbered behind the horizon. The colour the sky would transition into, like a celestial body of water that purely existed between the cusp of day and night.

The somber yet deceptively beautiful energy I would get enveloped with every time I found myself immersed in that strangely intimate setting. Knowing that there were still sights like this, although rare and fleeting, that were worth living for regardless of the outweighing negativity, dullness and tiring aspects the grim world would constantly dominate me with…

That colour..

Within such a view, I would witness how the first remnants of stars would appear and how on certain days of the month, a delicate crescent would hang near where its sibling would have just descended; chasing him, longing for his company.

Those evenings in particular were always my favourite… In a way, they were like looking at a reflection of myself; a tiny sliver of light quietly drifting through a sea of uncertainty, purely existing but vying for something more.

Though on the flip side, it also in a way served as a desirable state of existence, a dream to strive towards. Instead that moon, rather than wandering aimlessly through a nullifying sea, would be rather at home in her element. The equilibrium of purples and blues would instead be a place where she would wholeheartedly belong basking in the utter contentment her deprived soul no longer craved.

Oh, that colour…

A droplet of warmth trailed down my cheek, almost instantly getting absorbed by the liquid around me like it had never been there to begin with. My lips trembled yet still turned upward to form a minute but genuine smile of admiration.

Of gratitude.

That was when I knew. That was when that lightbulb of revelation shined above me, as it finally granted me a name.

Indigo.

I blinked back more of that warmth that sheened my orbs.

A colour of rarity, of loneliness, but also of the purest serenity in the toughest and silent of times. A pigment of reflection, a beacon of reverence… a lighthouse of hope.

Indigo… that’s what it was called..

The one aspect that got me through the day by day repetitiveness of life where everything and anything seemed utterly worthless; futile in its entirety.

Yes, Indigo..

It was my colour… is my colour…

For if there was one thing that I could claim in this life, this universe, that was and would be solely mine and mine alone.. it would definitely have to be the etheric colour of indigo..

Now physically displayed in the form of shining scales for not just myself but for the world to see, that in itself only further solidified that notion.

For it was that distinct yet fleeting ocean between light and darkness that was and is my very essence…

I allowed one more minuscule droplet of warmth free before I reluctantly guided my gaze back upwards to finally get a full view of where I was.

From what I could gather, I was smack-dab in the center of a circular room of sorts. Its walls were formed of tough rock while its floors were made up of what I could only assume was a type of sandstone by their colour and texture. There were the strange starry lights above of course and the ‘bed’ that I was placed within that was slightly elevated off the ground by a platform of more yellowish sandstone.

My eyes caught on to places on the walls where small sections were carved out to form in-built shelves where nick-nacks of various sizes were securely set upon. Glass jars of different trinkets and coloured liquids, boxes and chests of no-doubt invaluable possessions as well as a few crystals spread amongst all the chaotic order. These tiny details made the place seem more personal and lived in.

Lived in by who?, my mind uttered to me.

Waves of ink shadowing pearly skin glided through my mind. The lingering feeling of strong, pale hands directing me towards billowing salty depths. Those brooding cerulean orbs that constantly put me in a trance.

Yoongi..

This place must be his..

My head snapped to the one remaining feature of this organically structured room that I missed. Directly in front of me was a large archway donned with a piece of curtained fabric, blocking me from seeing where it led. An entryway. The doorway to his bedroom if the thing I was lying on was anything to go by.

It would have had to have been a good solid five or so minutes that whizzed by where I just aimlessly locked eyes on that one lone doorway, not knowing if I should entertain the notion of venturing out of it to see what other anomalies await. How could a room feature be so imposing in that sense, like it was some sort of inanimate dictator of my fate.

To go through or not to go through?

I looked down at my tail then back up towards the doorway, the drapery that hung from it appearing black against the stone walls. But when I proceeded to look closer, I realized it was actually an extreme shade of dark blue; the kind of shadowy depths that a certain someone’s eyes would shift to when faced with various forms of tribulation.

Or a certain level of caution if I were to judge the current orbs staring back at me now after I went to blink once.

Gasping in surprise, I jumped in my seat, not expecting the sudden intrusion. Misjudging the strength of my jolt and forgetting about the lack of gravity that comes with being submerged in water, my body shot up about 3ft, the salty liquid only aiding my ascent.

“Eek!!”

Oh god, oh god, oh god!

Help!

I was like a cartoon character, spastically waving my arms around, trying to grab ahold of something to stop the upwards momentum of my body. Any attempt to maneuver myself in an orderly manner went right out the window. My tail, a dead weight, didn't help in the slightest. My brain was unable to translate the new body part and as a result ran up blank on potential movement altogether.

“Well if this isn’t a sight to behold. Awake and already making a fuss I see.” A calm, mocking voice rang out in contrast to my otherwise chaotic kerfuffle. A slight shiver raked through me at the words.

I craned my neck to the direction of their source but the sudden change in rotation caused me to tumble down in spirals and awkward somersaults, my tail, due to its length and mass causing the majority of my spontaneous water aerobics.

Gosh, I’m gonna be sick, the constant spinning and view change encouraging my stomach to turn sour. Blue and green swirls blurring my vision.

A huff met my ears after several more seconds, the sounds much closer than before, almost like they were right beside me.

That was soon justified when my body collided with warmth, my hands smoothing over something broad and sinewy. A different and much larger pair quickly snagged onto my forearms, evidently stopping my next body roll in its tracks. One powerful tug downwards later and I was back to where I had initially started, the familiar bedding in the center of the room supporting my seated form as my indigo tail flopped limply over its side, swaying in tune to the moving water.

Not knowing I was holding my breath all that while, I let out a much needed sigh of relief, my gills opening to release some tension in the form of excess water and bubbles.

“Not a minute has passed and you’ve already managed to find a way into my arms. He rasped. “What’s your next move, woman? Falling from the sky?”

Frowning at the comment that was dripping with sarcasm, I looked to my right, my snarky savior meeting my gaze, mouth turned up in a slight smirk.

“Yoongi..” his name left my lips before I knew it. I blinked a couple of times to get ahold of my bearings, the last of my queasiness thankfully subsiding. He just stared down at me from where he was sitting next to me, an arm’s length or so between us which I would have appreciated more if not for his ever present haughtiness.

“Hmm, you remember my name, there may be some hope for you yet.”

Before I could come up with a reply to his quip, I was drawn to a particular formation of scales much like my own swaying lazily from side to side. They were so dark that I was sure they were capable of sucking the light out of the very space around them. I noted the slither of skin they faded out from, marking their starting point at the occupant’s waist, and from there roughly connected the dots.

Another tail… His tail…

This was Yoongi’s tail..

I stared agape.

It complimented his inky locks perfectly; a solid amalgamation of corded muscle plated over by jewels of pure night. A powerful looking fluke spanned almost double the width of my own, the innermost membrane of it radiating an all too familiar deep cerulean.

Beautiful…

I immediately diverted my gaze, having just realized what I was doing. Ashamed at my thoughts. Oh gosh, was it rude to stare at a mermaid’s…erm.. mer-man’s tail? Did I just break some unspoken rule in their culture, ogling like a freak?

Gaze now focused back on my own tail, I physically blanched. In comparison, it looked so puny and almost fragile, the superiority of his own weighing me down bit by bit. He could no doubt get up to ridiculous speeds from one measly flick of that huge and sturdy fin, or even knock someone out cold if subjected to the sheer mass of his tail’s scaled base.

I drew my sights upwards, praying that I didn’t weird out the merman that had remained silent all the while.

My worried thoughts were knocked out of the way however by another devastating sight. Well, that’s to say if being at the risk of bumping your nose into someone’s extremely bare chest is reason enough to warrant such a telling.

Heat rose as my throat locked up for a moment where I almost proceeded to choke on the water trying to pass through at the time.

“Y-you have no– w-where’s your shirt?!” I nearly fell over on my side from the speed at which I turned away, the resulting whiplash from all the sudden movements I was doing catching up to me, scrambling my brain. My cheeks were all but aflame and possibly boiling the water around them.

Mortified, the image of an expansive chest was forever burned into the back of my retinas; for better or for worse, I was still very much on the fence about. Wide plains and hardened ridges of moon-bathed skin swam in front of my vision tantalizingly where they joined to flow down into a tapered waist and taut stomach. He was more toned than I had initially thought, his loose fitting clothing having done an exceptional job of deceiving onlookers on just how well rounded his physique actually was; shoulders wider than anticipated and arms gifted with a visible strength that I could vouch for from firsthand experience.

Having never been in the same vicinity of a man for more than a few minutes at a time as my jobs allowed it and from my blatant lack of socializing, a shirtless man for that matter was on a whole nother level of insanity.

“Uh yeah.. We are underwater. Clothing isn’t really a thing – or needed for our kind. Well… for males at least.”

I remained silent and rigid, not daring to look back at the ungodly scene that loomed behind me.

An appalled grunt resounded from the man, a resultant of my body language that screamed discomfort. “Flustered over a little skin of all things?” He probed on. At that, I felt him scoot closer to me, making me in turn shrink in on myself like some petrified turtle.

“I am n-not!” My entire face by this stage felt like the inside of a volcano. I swear I could make out the bubbling of steam floating around my head.

“You’re just a little.. I-I’m just not used to being up so close.. a-and personal like t-this that I’m forced to not look at anything else!”

An amused scoff rang out, he was an inch or so from my back; I could tell by the wave of intensity that errantly washed over me, lifting the hairs on my neck.

“Oh really, I would never have guessed.”

“C-can you put your chest away or s-something?” I shot out, only then noting how weird that sentence actually sounded and cringed. I never thought claustrophobia from the presence of one’s…uh…lack of clothing was a thing.

“No can do, I'm afraid. You’ve just gotta start getting accustomed to the new dress code we’ve got going for us down here.”

You mean a lack of one. I let a low grumble slip past at that inevitability.

“Or perhaps,” his head craned beside my ear, making me flinch, “You’re just afraid you might secretly enjoy that fact?”

If my head was presumably a volcano, then that last remark just caused its long awaited eruption. A mix of flustered irritation all but burst and overflowed out of me as I gritted my teeth, trying to stave off the influx of emotions. From there, I proceeded to clench my hands into fists.

Big mistake.

In the next moment, an uncanny bout of pain rippled from below the beds of my fingers as my palms almost got sliced open.

My nails had all but extended into two inch claws!

As any normal person would do in this situation I let out an ear splitting shriek. Who knew this would spook me out more than finding out that I had a whole ass fish tail instead of legs, or be on par to the more mundane approach of simply viewing a man’s chest. Y/n, you really need to get your priorities straight in terms of the fright department. Pointy nails, really?

Holding my hands out away from the rest of my body, I went to shake them out, hoping that the action would somehow get rid of these needle-like atrocities.

Get ‘em off, these things! Get them away from me!

I could feel the eye roll from behind and not too long after a ripple of water washed over me. Those same large hands that had righted me before were now swallowing my own up in their tight grasp. He had swiftly maneuvered himself in front of me as I jolted at the contact, trying to yank them out of his hold but he was stubborn and held them strong.

“Always so jumpy.” He mumbled. “Relax, they’re just your–”

“Wha- What’s going on? What’s wrong with them!?

“First–” he cut in almost straight after with slight irritation, “You really need to calm down, something you seem to find particularly difficult!”

You try handling something like this for the first time and see if you fare any better. I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind in retaliation to his callousness. Jerk.

If the merman noticed my inner spite, he didn’t let on. Instead, he resorted to holding my hands still and in place, constantly squeezing them to stop their shaking. If I wasn’t already worked up enough with dealing with daggers in place of nails then the sudden hand holding would most certainly reign supreme in turning me into complete hysterics. No actually, let’s be real here, they were definitely working in tandem to get me over the edge.

“Do I really need to tell you to breathe again?” Yoongi uttered a little softer but still maintained that level of firmness. He was referring back to all the times he implored me to do so during that harrowing transformation of human to mermaid, however long ago that was now. “Work with me here, woman,” another squeeze of my hands followed as he waited for me to act on his request.

I shakily huffed as I closed my eyes, ridding my view of my monstrous nails. Working with the slits along my neck, I started a steady pace of one deep breath in and out. Such a process seemed to work, my breathing growing more calm and steady as the minutes ticked by. The awe factor that came about when utilizing my gills worked wonders in transforming my nerves into more bearable spouts of intrigue instead.

As my panic continued to fizzle out, I was soon guided out of my reverie by another firm squeeze from a set of pale hands. My eyes opened in an automatic reply and the bewitching blue of his own was the final nail that sealed my anxieties away – for now, at least.

He blinked, garnering my change in temperament and cleared his throat.

Guiding my gaze back down to the dilemma at hand (quite literally) he stroked the side of one of my ‘dagger nails’ with his thumb, my heart unknowingly skipping a beat. “These claws you’ve got here are what we call piercers. All merfolk have them, they’re really nothing special.”

I watched on as he allowed his right hand to part from the cocoon he had formed around my own and held it up before us, fingers splayed out in a backwards high five. The veins on the top of his palm pulsed while I barely made out the slightest twitch of his fingertips. Half a second later, five lengthy nails shot up like pointed spears. They were identical to my own, although maybe a little longer if I wanted to be really particular. He turned his hand so I could view them from multiple angles.

“They’re able to extend as you see here and…” A sound similar to a sword getting sheathed met my ears as they all too swiftly shrunk back down like they were never there to begin with, points now blunted at the ends; deceptively human. “…retract.”

I blinked, mind stark with disbelief.

“They’re used in both offensive and defensive measures, like most land predators you’ve no doubt seen somewhere in your time up there. They’re foremost a means of survival. The ocean isn’t like the surface; it can be tough and grueling to even the best of us. In the worst of cases, a mer’s piercers can be the only thing hovering between you and your end.” He stared between my eyes, weighing my reaction and continued when I appeared fine. “Anything from gripping onto surfaces if a current is too strong, tearing through netting to escape or ripping or even piercing into things for sustenance. All these things and more are applicable for an easier time down here in the deep.”

I dumbly nodded along to his explanation, trying to take in as much information as possible because I had a feeling that he wasn’t one who had the patience to repeat himself. Tuning into this ‘Mermaids 101’ lesson was imperative for my hopeful assimilation into this new lifestyle.

“They fully form when a mer reaches maturity. There’s a short transitional period beforehand where you can partially extend them, a sort of time of adjustment to get a grasp on how to work them fully.” He let out a tired sigh then, “That would’ve been a helpful time for you but I guess we can’t have everything come easy to us now can we.”

“T-that’s all fine and well but…uh…h-how do I make them shrink back to normal?” I spoke up, still eyeing my so-called piercers with discomfort. I certainly didn’t want to run the risk of taking somebody's eye out with these literal knives poking out. They looked like something straight out of a horror movie and were ever a safety hazard in my book.

Another strained sigh broke out from Yoongi's lips.

“Adrenaline can set them off; with your total lack of experience, I’d gather that even just tensing your hands can lead to the same conclusion, whether you’re in active danger or not.”

Great. My shoulders slumped at the realization. So even just exercising a joint or muscle wrong could lead to a good old ‘stabby’ surprise. How was I ever going to get a handle on these without accidentally impaling myself in the process?

I looked at Yoongi's one hand still wrapped around both of mine, my piercers poking out of the top like a bunch of upright harpoons. He made it look so easy. So mindless when performing the action of retracting his own.

“Look, for starters, your best bet is to completely relax your hands, detense everything that warrants any level of strain or effort. Think you can do that?”

Clearing my throat, I looked his way but was unable to meet his eyes once more, “I–I’ll try..”

Finally granting my hands freedom from his hold, he allowed them to float in between us as I willed them to go completely limp. Even in this state of forced calmness, I was still very much afraid of putting them any closer to my body where my vital organs were.

“Picture them – or rather – try to feel them getting shorter, like they’re getting sucked back into your fingers, merging with them, if you will.”

Taking his explanation into account and trying to work with what he said, I stared my piercers down like they were some unbecoming menace that needed to be put back in their place.

I stared.

And stared.

And stared..

My eyes scrunched up in concentration to the point where they were starting to strain and cause an oncoming headache. No doubt the scene I was putting up looked rather unflattering to the man who remained in front of me observing my amateur efforts.

At one stage I may have seen one or two of the spear-like nails slip down a few rungs but that may have just been my out-of-whack imagination playing tricks on me.

He must think I’m so pathetic. I mentally versed, after a good millennia of time had passed and my piercers were still very much present, standing upright and tauntingly proud.

My chest tightened. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t even control my own body properly. It was like I was a newborn baby all over again.

I gave them another long, hard stare, trying and failing to bend the menacing blades to my will. Their imaginary tongues would most definitely be sticking out at me right about now, making fun of my loss.

Urk! Nothing’s happening!

“Stop.” Yoongi’s voice cut through the tension as if he could hear my mental battle. “You’re trying too hard.”

“It’s hopeless.” I let out a struggling sigh. “They won’t…I-I can’t–”

“Yes you can.”

I went to deny his claim with another despondent retort but he spoke up again.

“Even I don’t expect you to be a natural at this right at the get go. I may be forward in how I deal with the majority of my shit but even I have to admit, I’m not that much of a hard ass.”

Hmm, that remains to be seen. I wanted to say, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt; just this once.

“Now tell those defeating thoughts I see gnawing away at you to get a life, relax, and start again. And try to really feel them this time. If you at least do that then your instincts should kick in and the rest more or less should come smoothly.”

A trail of bubbles left my mouth in discouragement as I tried to focus on the piercers themselves; as Yoongi emphasized, on how they felt.

I felt how surprisingly lightweight they were as opposed to their almost stone-like hardness, how they sprouted seamlessly from the very base of my nail beds, them being the solid unbreakable roots that supported the promise and outcome of flowering thorns. The blood that pulsed evenly up through my fingers and underneath each bed, the life giving water that sustained those uncanny roots.

I loosened my shoulders and breathed, welcoming in the water swaddled oxygen and followed the way it sent tingles right down to my bones. My joints and limbs swarmed with a sense of relief and utter vitality, thanking me for rewarding them with the sunlight-like sustenance they needed in order to thrive. I sailed along those feelings and sensations of rightness down to the start of those same roots.

They vibrated.

Relax.

They aren’t bad, they’re not to be feared or anything to be repulsed at; no, they’re an extension of yourself. They are you and you are them. You are innately connected.

More vibrations rippled along my neighboring fingers; a harmony conjoining to form one synchronized note.

You are at their mercy and in turn, they are also equally under your command. You each hold a mutual bond that at its core is unanimous in principle.

Breathe, relax, feel..

They are you and you are them..

My eyes suddenly shot open at a strange feeling of finality. I didn’t dare look down to see if my mental tinkering had worked in my favor or had made things abundantly worse to the point where I would be in desperate need of a manicure.

“Are they..?” I couldn’t get the rest of my question past my lips. Dread and hope fought a deathly battle in my throat, clogging it in the process. Yoongi, still able to grasp the rest of what I was going to ask, voiced his reply.

“See for yourself.”

Not giving me much of a choice, I resigned to my fate and glimpsed down at my piercers. All the while I cursed the merman for not telling me outright if they were back to normal or still in their monstrous state of existence.

No, not monstrous, I quickly corrected myself. No, they were just… different. I won’t lie and say that I was completely in acceptance of them, even after that weird symbiotic experience I just felt and envisioned. Like any new development in someone’s life, they were going to take some extensive warming up to.

So it was at that expense then that I couldn’t help but curl my lips up into a triumphant smile, shaking with joy and relief. Because before me once more was my all too normal and familiar ‘human’ nails, in all their blunt and ordinary simplicity.

My gaze rounded up to Yoongi’s at this, shyness temporarily pushed to the back by a dominant spout of victory.

“I-I did it!” I was practically bouncing in my seat like a little kid.

The faintest telling of satisfaction was delicately painted on the merman’s usually hardened face. He calmly looked at me and grunted a sound of approval. His annoyance seemingly put to the back burner while he allowed me this moment of glory; tolerating it silently. If that was all the complimenting and congratulations I was going to get from him then I’d gladly accept it.

From what I had gathered, this momentary display of positivity he portrayed was something of a rarity for Yoongi. His expressions always seemed to range from one of three visible states: stark emotionlessness, emotionless stoicism, or, if you wanted to get really fancy, a brooding anger or annoyance that was often riddled with blunt sarcasm every necessary chance it got.

Yes, a splendid selection indeed.

Not to say my range of emotions were any better. Far from it. Who would want to be around someone who couldn’t meet you in the eye more than half the time and when they could miraculously get a glimpse of your face was then subjected to an uncomfortable front of nervous awkwardness.

Yeah, I’d take casual stoicness over extreme shyness any day.

I willed my nails out of their bedded sheathes once more, inexperience still getting the best of me as they stiffly shot out, a dull thrum of pain ever present. Getting them back down though was definitely the more taxing part. More often than not they kept shooting back outwards when they had just managed to blunt back down.

“Are they always meant to..erm.. h-hurt.. w-when they extend?” I asked, taking note of yet another wavelet of burning coursing through my nail beds.

“The first few times, yes. They’re like any other muscle really. The more you use them the less effort your body has to expend over time.”

Still scared and awed all at the same time, I was slowly getting lost among the process of my piercers, trying to get as much of a feel as I could to not warrant a later accident. Though I knew that worrying fact was inevitable.

Sheath, unsheathe. In, out.

Just when I was about to release them again for another glimpse that would leave me gobsmacked, I was abruptly stopped.

“Ok, ok, cut it out, you’ll give yourself a cramp if you keep playing with them like that.”

I flinched and guiltily lowered my hands to rest in my scaled lap, a ‘sorry’ taking up residence on the tip of my tongue out of instinct but I managed to swallow it down.

He sighed then, clearly seeing my state of submissiveness like I had just been slapped.

A moment of tense silence floated around us. The merman ever so slightly looming closer to my bent form when I failed to move, his night-clad scales only adding to the growing shadow he cast upon me; a blanket of darkness.

“You can look at me, you know. You don’t have to be so shy and defensive all the time.”

I unconsciously shivered.

I would if I could…

My life beforehand hadn’t exactly been a safe haven for allowing my trust and confidence to run free.

If anything, it has only influenced me to close myself up to the point where my worries and insecurities became my only safeguard against potential disappointment and pain in the long run.

Heh, what good that did when I decided to take a risk for once and hop onto that bus that day, catalyzing all this mess.

Gills opening and closing, I craned my neck upwards, once more catching the speckled display of lighting that decorated the rocky ceiling above us, just like starlight.

“T-Those lights up there…w-what are they?”

My obvious deflection of his accusation surprisingly didn’t seem to anger him, as he let go of inquiring further. He shifted to my side and joined me in gazing up at the glittering amassment, not nearly as enamored as I was at the sight and replied after a few beats.

“Stellaris algae.”

My intrigue appeared to prompt him further in an explanation, however reluctant he was from his almost monotonous words. “It grows in dotted clumps and glows – well as the name suggests – like stars…. What was it that humans like to call it? You know, for how it lights up?” He paused, searching for the term. “Bioluminescent?”

I hummed my understanding and couldn’t help but voice my own simple thoughts. “It’s beautiful…”

I felt his gaze at my side then but remained viewing the speckles of green and blue, pushing down my self-consciousness.

“I suppose it is.” He let out in barely a whisper and I went to tuck a floating strand of hair that breached my line of sight behind my ear.

A steady wave of tingling energy reverberated between us as I hung onto my composure, the bioluminescence of the star-like algae helping me slightly as it gently lulled me into a state of reverence as I basked under its glow.

How can anyone get sick of such a sight? Yoongi must be blind…

Said merman dropped beside me, severing my musings and I ever so slightly inched away.

“While I hate to cut your stargazing short, the real stars will be gracing us not before too long. I think we’ve stalled with things long enough.”

Really, it’s almost night? I blinked.

“Though I can’t really fault you for not knowing I guess. You can’t really tell it, what with being as deep down in my den as we are.”

Talk of time curiously drew me back to the subject of my impromptu nap.

“H-How long was I out?”

He raked his hand through his locks and I tried to not focus on how the motion made my insides…feel things.

“Long enough for Helios to pass over twice.” He answered, taking note of my not so subtle increase of space I made between us and raised a brow.

Stumped, I gave him a look of confusion.

He snarked. “Right, I forgot I have to dumb my words down for you.” Frowning, I just managed to reign in my nails that had accidentally shot out halfway in response.

“Easy,” he griped, when he saw my claws, almost amused. “You’ve been asleep for two days, give or take.”

I actually did cough on the water this time.

“Two… two d-days!?”

He huffed nonchalantly at my shock.

“Relax, you weren’t dying or anything if that’s what you’re so worried about. It’s normal to take that long for your first time. Or I guess in your case, your first time after so many years? Either way, I’ve seen others take longer, so you're fine.”

I remained silent at his rather rocky attempt at reassurance, questioning its validity.

“Now, before you feel tempted to go on another one of your panic sprees, how about we see if you can stomach some food. After such an ordeal, I’m surprised you can still remain upright.”

Now that he mentioned it, I was feeling a bit heavy with fatigue, like I hadn’t bothered to move in centuries.

“That would be good…t-thanks.”

“Good cause, while your piercers are one less thing to worry about, you still have one other important thing to deal with. Seeing as it’s you we’re talking about, you’re gonna need all the strength you can get.”

I gave him yet another look of confusion and he groused at my lack of awareness.

“You still have that to contend with,” he stated, pointing down at my lap where my tail rested.

The tail which remained to feel like an immovable log of petrified wood.

I let out a gulp and ruminated as I often did in times of uncertainty and caution, which was more often than I would’ve liked in my life before and up to this.

Right. How hard can that be? I blanched, trying to let the indigo of my scales soothe me.

Knowing me, not easy enough..

| 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 | ༄⋆

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 17.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

Warnings For This Chapter: Breast Play, Daddy Kink, Squirting, Love Making, Pregnant Sex, Jeongguk Being Fuckin' Filthy, Praise, Begging, Creampie // Taehyung Acting Up As Per Usual

Jeongguk was only without you for a month but during that time he forgot what it was like to lay in bed with you.

He forgot how you cuddled close to him in the chilly mornings, burying your face into his chest with childlike stubbornness. He forgot how you almost always softly whinged when he kissed the top of your head to wake you up. And he almost forgot how beautiful and incredible it feels to have your limbs tangle with his in the wee hours of daybreak.

Now that he's moved into your mansion, now that he has all of his belongings here, he finds himself appreciating the mornings even more.

You're not as sick as you were when you first found out you were pregnant but you're still exhausted all the same. Nothing wakes you up anymore, your hormones make you lay in bed like a lump on a log until his child deems it acceptable to rouse awake.

Curling his hand around your flat stomach, his lips drift softly over your shoulder.

To know he's bringing a life into this world with the woman he adores more than anything makes him constantly euphoric day in and day out.

It's funny to think that in just two weeks he'll be accompanying you to the wedding he was hired to go to so long ago. It's almost as if everything is coming full circle.

Drifting his lips to your hair, his eyes squeeze shut. There's such peace here at this moment. There's a serenity that cannot be matched and he's simply basking in its wonder.

This mansion you explicitly used to shelter yourself from the outside world is a newly defined place that you'll be raising a little life. All of the meaningless emptiness of the grand estate will have child-like giggles and babbling.

Tracing his thumb over your swollen womb, your once again boyfriend thinks of all the possibilities within this home.

Your whinge alerts him that you're waking up and it brings a soft smile to his pierced lips.

When Hawking hears that noise, he jumps onto the bed with curious excitement and your boyfriend lifts his head with wide eyes as a warning. His dog, now your dog as well, is so big and goofy that he has no spacial awareness. And if something happens to you or the baby, Guk will never forgive himself.

"Mornin'," you murmur to the Great Dane who doesn't heed his owner's cautious look.

Burrowing his face into your breasts, you cringe visibly and Guk is sitting up in an instant.

"Come on, dude," he hisses, pushing the dog's face softly away from you.

"It's okay, he doesn't understand," you reply sweetly, kissing the top of Hawking's head.

Everything about you lately has been swelling and aching, it's uncomfortable to be sure.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," your boyfriend whispers.

"It's okay, really," you promise, turning towards him.

Jeongguk lays himself back down, giving you a smile that is devastatingly handsome. He's so in love, he's so excited to become a parent with you that it's readily apparent on his features.

"How're my babies?" he coos, combing some hair back behind your ear.

"Tired," you breathe, which makes him nod in turn, "hungry, achy, crampy, emotional. I could go on."

He chuckles then, the sound making your bones almost jello-like.

You haven't been up to wearing your nightgowns to bed lately, the fabric that goes over your breasts is too restricting. So when your boyfriend looks you over in full, he can't help the way that his tongue slowly licks over his bottom lip.

The darkened veins around your swollen tits makes him almost frenzied with wanting but he's been respectful since you took him back.

Cupping your chest with his large, warm hands, he kneads the swollen skin very softly with his fingers.

Your whine lets him know how much you adore it and suddenly he's disregarding his huge dog beside you to crawl over you.

He rests his backside on the balls of his feet working to soothe your aches and pains immediately. Your skin is hot under his hands, almost as if you have a fever just on your chest.

You groan softly, letting your head loll back at the simple relief.

"You're so beautiful, I love you so much," Guk avows.

"We love you too," you whisper through clenched teeth.

To say you've gotten used to being pregnant is an understatement. It took you a few days, surely, you were frightened and scared beyond all belief at first but your boyfriend has ingrained in you just how much he adores this and you and his baby. So, it didn't take you so long to come to terms that you're growing a life inside you.

Bending down, Guk presses soft kisses to your areola. When you gasp loudly, making Hawking jump with fright beside you, your boyfriend finds his cock stirring.

"Feels good, baby?" he hisses, wrapping his lips around your puffy, dark nipple.

He suckles gently, suddenly forgetting the need to calm your aches and pains. His hand toys with the stiffening peak, rolling it ever so slowly between his thumb and index finger.

"Daddy, God!" you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

"Mhm," he groans against your skin soothingly, flicking the tip of his tongue to your bud.

His free hand trails lazily over your side, stopping shortly to graze along your swollen womb before continuing on it's long path but before he can even get there you're yelping out like you're about to orgasm.

His eyebrows furrow and he suckles harder against you, pinching and rolling just that much more fervently and when his hand reaches the apex of your thighs, you scream his name with heady pleasure.

Your arousal squirts out of you and coats his hand, body trembling with satisfaction and he lifts his head with a curiously triumphant smile.

"Cumming just by your tits? That's new," he breathes, stroking at his cock.

Your juices make his long, hard cock slick and he positions himself at your entrance with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you handle this right now, baby?" he inquires softly, drifting his hand over your cheek.

With a whinge, your hands coast up his heavily inked arms. You stare up at him with heavily sated eyes that seem to twinkle with the need for more.

"Give it to me," you beg softly.

That's all he needs to hear.

Entering you slowly, his mouth drops open at the sheer warmth and wetness. Your cunt is like a fucking siphon around him and he lets out a strangled groan at the feeling.

His elbows purchase themselves over your shoulders and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you adjust to the intrusion of his thick cock.

"Your pussy feels so different," Guk whines against your lips, "feels so fucking good."

You hook your hand around the back of his head, needing him so close to you.

"I love you," you whisper, looking up at him with soft, needy eyes that makes his cock throb within you.

"I love you too," he promises, pulling out almost all the way before slowly thrusting back inside.

This isn't a rough fuck, this isn't a quick thing that horny lovers do. He sets a slow, deep pace that makes your loins quiver. He's making love to you. He's showering you with every ounce of passion that he can to show you how grateful he is that you're with child.

"Oh fuck!" you squeak out, feeling his lips trail from your lips to your jaw and downward.

He suckles at your nipples once again, adoring how your legs butterfly open for more. Your arousal is messy and abundant, earning the most pornographic noises as he fucks you diligently.

"You're so fucking incredible," Guk hisses, licking at your nipple until your back is bowing off the bed.

He takes this opportunity to curl his arm around you, pulling you closer to him as his strokes begin to quicken.

"O-Oh! Daddy!" you blubber out, combing your fingers through his hair.

"That's it, sweetheart. Good girl," he praises, suckling at your sensitive flesh harder.

Your nails scratch at his skin, leaning pretty red lines he'll surely be tracing with his fingers later in the day.

"I can't wait till your bigger, till I can set you on your knees and fuck you from behind like an animal. I'm gonna hold your belly so tightly while you throw it back to me like a little slut. Your swollen pretty tits are gonna leak milk everywhere, begging to mother my baby. Fuck," he hisses, fucking into you harder.

He doesn't know where those hopes and dreams came from but he's pretty sure they've been laying thick on his mind since the minute he got you into bed the first time.

His irises burn with an intensity that makes your breath catch. He believes what he's saying, he wants you to do every vile and nasty thing with your pregnant body that he can and it only brings you closer to the edge.

There's a bubble growing and growing within your loins, it's expanding at a rapid pace and when he sits up and flips you over like you weigh nothing, the explicit show of strength makes you almost want to fall off the precipice then.

His chest lays over your back, hand cupping your small, swollen womb. His lips tug at your earlobe and you can only cry out in a semblance of babbles as he begins to fuck you stupid.

"I'm gonna worship you and this pregnant belly until my last fucking day. I want you to walk around this mansion stark naked with your big stomach in your hands and my cum running down your fucking thighs," he hisses, nibbling at your skin softly.

There's a demon within him now, some sort of incredibly aroused being that you can't help but want to bend your will to.

"Y-Yes, daddy! Please!"

"Yeah?" your boyfriend coos sweetly, "you want that? You want me to fuck your little pregnant cunt everyday? You want to drip with me everywhere you go? You want to hold your belly for me while you suck my cock or take it deep inside you?"

You nod incessantly, sobbing as his hand hooks around to the apex of your thighs. He rubs short, quick circles to your swollen clit, groaning at how tight you're getting around him.

You like this too apparently, you love the imagery, much like him.

"Fuck, throw it back to me, baby," he hisses, lifting himself off of your back.

His free hand slowly coasts over your spine while the other continues it's diligent work between your legs.

With every stroke he gives, you meet it and he moans loudly at the feeling. His head lolls back at the euphoria of it all and when he hooks his hand around your waist to pull you back even faster, you can't help the bubble within you as it's about to explode.

"Fuck, I feel it. That's my girl! Let go," Jeongguk praises, spreading your legs wider with his knees.

With a loud whimper, your body lets go. Your orgasm feels like shards of ice upon your body and you can barely register the slew of curses your boyfriend strings together behind you.

"Oh holy fucking shit," he whines, fucking you harder and faster until his thrusts become stunted and shorter.

With a deeply bassed groan, he spills his seed inside of you.

"My God," he sighs softly, pulling out slowly and laying down beside you.

He opens his arms and smiles as you immediately coddle to him, laying your face down on his chest.

"I love you," he whispers, running his hand over your womb.

"I love you too," you murmur, deeply sated.

As you begin to draw random shapes onto his chiseled chest, he stares down at you with adoration slowly creeping into his bones.

You, the mother of his baby, how deeply he fucking loves you.

"One, two, three," Guk counts, groaning loudly as he and his two best friends begin to set up gym equipment in the basement he didn't even know you owned.

You're giving him free reign within this mansion now. You're really starting to come to terms with sharing your life with him.

"Still don't like it," Tae murmurs, looking around the pristine basement.

"Oh my God, give it a rest!" Jimin hisses, setting down the rowing equipment.

Jeongguk has gotten used to ignoring the pretty boy lately. Nothing ever seems good enough for him anymore.

"She fucking lied to him! She withheld that she was fucking pregnant!"

Guk turns away from the both of them, grabbing his water.

"She was confused! She was scared! Christ, imagine you were a girl and you got pregnant so soon! How would you feel?!" Chim gripes back, folding his arms.

"I am not her!" Taehyung hisses, his voice slowly getting louder and louder with each word, "if she was fucking smart, she would have told him from the fuckin beginni-"

Jeongguk sighs loudly, spinning around and pressing his forearm against his best friend's chest until he backs him up into the wall. His eyes are wide with anger and ferocity.

"You are raising your voice in the mother of my baby's house. You're talking shit when she's right fucking upstairs. She was scared and nervous! Don't you think for a fucking second that I won't kick your ass where you stand just because we're friends! I'm sick of your shitty attitude, dude. I'm spending the rest of my life with this woman! Have some goddamn respect. If you wanna bitch and complain you can take it outside this fucking house and away from me! I'm sick of it."

Jimin puts his hand delicately on your boyfriend's arm, watching it shake with anger and fury.

"I said it's enough," Guk hisses finitely, letting Taehyung go.

The pretty boy fixes his shirt immediately after being let go, rolling his eyes at the sudden flair of anger.

"Y'know," the father of your child grunts, grabbing a beer from the new mini fridge beneath the bar you've only just installed yesterday, "Tae, you're one of the biggest fucking hypocrites I know. If you had one ounce of understanding in your body, you'd see just how fucked up you've been. You always complain about Y/N, about others and how if you were that person how differently you'd do things. Well guess what? You're not them. So shut the fuck up. I'm goddamn tired of you acting like you're the king of the universe and you never do any wrong. It's annoying."

Jimin clears his throat softly, nudging the pretty boy who simply huffs out and folds his arms.

"So you don't like it when I speak my mind? We're friends. Isn't that what friends do? Listen?" Taehyung counters, sitting down on the rowing equipment.

Guk snorts into the beer can as he takes a sip. He shakes his head softly, knowing that nothing he says will get through to his older friend no matter how much he tries. "Just keep your comments about my girl to yourself from now on. Or you'll regret it."

"Guk-" Jimin begins only to be cut off by the pretty boy.

"Oh yeah? And how will I regret it?"

"You'll lose the chance to ever see my baby grow up. I'm going to be a father, I have to make decisions that are right for me and my family."

Tae simply freezes, tilting his head to the youngest's threat. "That's vile."

"You're being vile towards my-"

"Gukkie?"

Your boyfriend's head snaps up and he's standing in an instant to greet you as you descend down the basement stairs.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmurs, walking over to you and placing both of his hands on your side.

"Are you okay?" you inquire, running your hands softly over his inked bare chest.

"Yeah! We're fine down here. What's wrong?" he replies, kissing the top of your head.

"I heard yelling," you whisper, looking up at him with doe-like, sweet eyes.

Just the sight kills him and he doesn't know how Taehyung could ever say anything bad about you.

"Oh, no, baby don't worry. We're alright down here. The boys are gonna leave soon and then I'm gonna make dinner for us," he coos softly, coursing a sweet hand over your cheek.

"Don't rush on my account. I'm just gonna go relax in the garden for a bit."

"How do you feel? Should you be laying down?" Guk asks sweetly, already forgetting the other two men in the room.

"I don't feel sick so I want to walk around for a while," you answer him, looking over at Jimin and Taehyung to give them a soft smile.

"Well that's good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," your boyfriend breathes, smiling down at you with his pearly whites.

You kiss his cheek softly before beginning your ascent back upstairs and he turns to his two friends.

"Thank you for helping me set up the gym, you're both more than welcome to come over and use it if you keep the mother of my baby's name out of your fucking mouths."

"I didn't say anything!" Jimin gasps, widening his eyes.

"Good, don't," Guk hisses, folding his arms.

Taehyung simply shakes his head, standing up off of the bench and rolling his eyes.

"What's your problem now?!" Chim groans, lolling his head back.

"Nothing," Tae replies, heading up the stairs and out of sight.

Your boyfriend simply holds up his hands, shaking his head. "He's really sensitive for someone that bitches about others constantly."

Jimin can only hum in agreement, chasing after the pretty boy with a sigh.

If there's one thing that Guk will do, he'll fight for you time and time again without any care for others.

<- Last Chapter Next Chapter ->

[lo1k-diamonds]

Far Cry 🚀 Chapter 53

As soon as he arrived, pissed at everything and with adrenaline still in his system, he remembered something that had him running upstairs to their room. He knew where she kept her things and he wouldn’t have ever touched them, but it was an emergency. It didn’t take long to find; his eyes immediately set on her inside the dresser drawer next to some dry blue flowers. She was smiling right at him.

He caressed the ripped edge of the photo, staring at it as he held onto her pillow. It was silly, maybe even pathetic, but those little things gave him what he needed. Not that he could forget for a second what she looked or smelled like, but they were tangible objects that he could use to ground himself and not break into a raging mess.

Far Cry passed 400k posted words 🥳😵

I have to speed up and finish writing part II instead of adding more chapters goddamn it!!

Meanwhile, I think I'll start using this banner 😊🤔

[yoon-topias]

Yoontopia | Chapter 8 { Unpacking Desires }

⟡ Warnings: Strong language, depression, mental health issues, references to self harm, references to violence, references to sexual assault, manic episodes, smoking, risky behavior, jealousy, angst and Smut.

⟡ 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

⟡ Best friend's older brother x OC

⟡ Summary: Violet packing up her life when Yoongi gets back it turns into more than just unpacking, but unpacking their inner thoughts. letting the boundaries slip more than they have ever.

⟡ 5.6k words

Violet Pov:

As I sit here on the floor of my room clothes all around me piling up, starting with clothes everything else is pretty much staying here. I have a limit as to what I can bring. We are only using Tae's car. Necessities only is what Tae said. He also said he would come back up in the first few weeks to check in on me so he can bring some stuff up on a second run. I really appreciate that he is still in my life, but at what cost does it bring to both of us? I know he took our break up differently than I did. 

Me seeing it as a stepping stone in my soulmates path. He will always be one and we're connected on a different level than others, but he isn't THE one. Tae had the most trouble accepting it even until this point. I see the way he looks at me and I still look at him like that just with a little bit of a different gaze, his just has never changed full of admiration, longing, certainty of what I’m to him. The role I play in his life.  

Looking at the photo frame on my dresser of him and I, standing up from my pile of clothes. We are in our fuzzy bear onesies on the floor with me between his legs and messy hair, his cheeks are painted a rosy color. I wanted one cause' he is my bear, and he said "Well if I'm your bear don't I need to have one too miss?" Every Saturday night after the club or date night we needed up in those onesies on my floor playing uno and whoever won got whatever they said. In my case it was head and in his he wanted ninety-nine percent of the time sixty-nine cause' in his head we both won.  In the photo was the one time I made him put his wants first and he got head. 

I smile thinking about the times with him. What it would be like if life never came in between us. Those pink squishy cheeks I loved so much will always be a weakness of mine. 

Do I regret letting him go? It's hard cause if you ask me right off the bat I'm going to say yes, but I know if I look at the bigger picture no. If you love something, let it go. I was only ever holding him back from finding his true soulmate, but I can't let him go fully. My heart will always hold a piece of him like he holds a piece of mine. When I told him how I felt about it all he tried, god he tried to understand it but accepted what I chose and told me “I’m always by your side no one and I mean no one will come before you.” and I smiled at him and nodded my head. I knew there was no going against him; he had a determined look on his face full of certainty. Him and Scarlett really make a good team if I do say so myself, but I don't know if she is his soulmate. We never go that far into it. He always stops me and says he doesn't know because it's different from him and I, but that's how it should be different from him and I. I’ll let her take my place as long as I can have him some of the time to see that boxy smile. 

"Hey Vi, I'm back." I jump as I hear Yoongi's voice, getting lost in my mind has always been a weakness of mine but it's nice to think about those times. Me and Tae, a small smile curves my lips up. "Gosh Yoon you can't scare me like that!" setting the frame back down. I'll decide later if I'll bring it with me.  It's not like I don't have the pic in the special album labeled in my phone along with hundreds. "Looks like you made so much progress in the time I was gone." with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, Point at all the clothing in piles on the floor. "Hey! I'm doing my best to decide. I'll for sure need my work attire but then? I don't know, okay. I'm gonna be there alone."  

He steps over the pile by the door and opens my dresser drawer and takes out my kuromi pajamas. "Well for starters these will be going with you." But then what am I gonna sleep in tonight? Eh I'll just wear one of his shirts, not like I haven't before. Many nights at their house when we were younger I would stay over unplanned and he would always bring one of his shirts into the room for me to sleep in. He may be smaller than me in weight but the man truly loves oversized shirts which is much appreciated, with Tae I couldn't wear his since he wore more fitted shirts.  The small things really make girls feel like a princess. Huh? I also wanna feel like that sometimes. Not that Tae didn't though he fucking made me feel like a queen. It’s the small thing though sometimes. 

Without even asking Yoongi bends down and grabs the pile of work clothes,  starts to re-fold them since I honestly just pulled them out and tossed them in a pile not caring of making more work for myself. "Hey you don't gotta. You can just sit on the bed while I do this." 

"A peasant is really gonna make the princess do it all? Hell no." he laughs and starts to put them in the box. Looking down at the ground I have a lot to sort through. “Fine but I owe you.” he scoffs “You owe me? And what do I get?” Honestly I don't know what to offer him and then I tap my finger on my chin thinking “That's right, think all you want with that pretty mind of yours, you won't be able to give me what I want.” he lets out a small laugh folding up a pair of my black slacks “I’m thinking I’ll find something.” I walk over to the pile of clothes that's not sorted at all, drop to my knees in front of it. I'll start by looking at the sizing and seeing if it still fits and if it doesn't I'll just leave it here for safekeeping if I ever fit into it again, a terrible habit I have if I ever become small enough to fit them again… As I'm looking at the sizes there is a looming Silence over both of us but ya know when you're with someone and you don't always have to be talking to fill the void. Yeah that's me and Yoongi, we can just be near each other and be content. 

A lot of people think I'm too oblivious to most things, but in actuality I'm looking far into things to the point it consumes me. The words my father has imprinted in my mind will forever stick with me "run" and so I'm always searching for the way out of everything, with Yoongi? Yeah I decided long before it consumed me to run. Escape. I ran too quickly this time to even give it time to work out, but in my mind he never did like me just was messing with me. And me? I was never messing with him anytime we mindlessly flirted or even got close in touch. I craved it. Desired it. Ached for it. 

He on the other hand was out with girls left and right. Me? I was just waiting for him to notice me. Only me. 

When I finally decided I wasn't waiting Tae fell into my path at the right time. He got me out, went to the clubs and under the lights dancing in his arms I forgot about Min Yoongi even for a little bit.  The way our lips collided,  matched in sync I thought he was just gonna be a filler. No, Kim Taehyung isn't just filler, he is the glue that holds me together without even knowing how much he does for me. 

I wonder why Yoongi stopped his sexual escapades a while ago, after the first week of no girl rather multiple girls. His bed was a never ending revolving door as soon as he hit junior year. Can't blame him though most go through that phase, but why after those he would come to me like nothing ever changed even when I know for fact some of them turned into regulars. 

Too scared to sink into his intoxicating pull I distanced. He distanced. We both were a push and pull never ending tug of war of who will push a little further. Get a little closer. Pull the trigger. 

Neither of us pulled that trigger. Until now. 

Looking over at him almost done with his pile. "Yoon?" He hums in response, not looking up as he is working on folding a two piece suit of mine. "Why did you have all those girls? When you say I have only ever been the only one." he drops the top of the suit he was folding and looks up at me, his shaggy blonde hair tousled, wide eyes peeking through his bangs. "Huh? No, V this isn't the time for this conservation." 

"And why not?" Putting the last piece of clothing in the take pile dead eyeing him. "Cause Vi we have little time and I-I don't wanna lose any by talking about it." Why can't he just give me an answer anytime I made jokes about all the girls he got mad at and wouldn't talk to me for the day. Days even sometimes. 

"Was I not good enough to be a one nighter at least?" I scoff under my breath. 

His face contorts into disappointment. Anger. I know the look he has on his face, red is all he sees. I've seen it multiple times before when he gets like this sometimes even has blacked out from the anger and forgets what he says. We both aren't normal, I know that for a fact. . 

"Not good enough?" a deep scoff radiates from his chest. 

He steps over the clothes I just sorted and gets down on his knees in front of me looking me dead in the eyes, placing his hand under my chin so I can't look down, as I have a tendency of doing it. "You think I didn't wanna fuck you?" he bites his fucking lip. I don't know what to think I haven't seen him like this the way his voice rasps as he the words 'fuck you' like he's been holding it in for so long. He sounds lustful, Needy almost. He pulls my chin so his mouth meets my ear and takes a deep breath in like he is soaking me up. Fuck.  I never felt like this before and all he is doing is breathing. 

"You think I didn't see your purple panties before, love? Because I have and after I did unspeakable things in the shower holding myself back." he pulls back and looks me up and down with the most sinful eyes. Wrong time to be in just a sports bra and shorts cause' I can feel his gaze eating me without even touching me.  "Y-You saw?" he nods his head at me licking his lips. 

"Those shirts don't hide everything, sweets. As for those girls they were what I used to hold myself back from taking you, making you mine and consuming you all for myself. Don't forget it. You're one of the reasons I lose my mind." 

After saying his last words he presses a kiss on my forehead and stands up. "Now let's finishing packing we don't have a lot of time, sweets. I'ma need a fix after this. Ya know the deal."

Looking at him walking over to finish folding what he dropped and placing it in the box playing with his tongue ring between his teeth was a habit he picked up. I have no clue what to say. I guess I just read him wrong, but those repeat girls? He'll need to give me more on them even if it's been months since his last. My heart feels like it's beating out of my chest that I could have a heart attack and die at any moment. That voice I have heard before when he is stern with Hans and me. He only uses it when we're in trouble or he wants his point across. What did I bring out of him? but I  want to hear it again, no need to.

"What about the repeat customers? huh?" His eyes bolt over to me running his tongue on his inner cheek. 

"What bout’ em? cause' it's only one and she was escaping a situation-ship the same as me. Little unspoken contract Vi both escaping reality ended long ago. She worked out with hers, but will I get my own sweet escape? huh Vi?" 

I can't answer him cause in the back of my head Tae was that a sweet escape just like Jackson. He was doing exactly what I was doing escaping reality that we both were in. Maybe we aren't that different after all in some aspects. The way his voice rasped out 'my own sweet escape' runs chills through my body like a cold winter gust of wind. "We all want our own sweet escape Yoon." 

Push and pull. It's a game. Our game. 

"But will you be my sweet escape Vi?" he's never been this upfront he is pulling. No reeling me in like the largest fish in the pond wanting to just give up and let him, but it isn't fair we know if we cave now we both will blaze in hell's fire, but who doesn't get burned a little along the way?

"We'll see Yoon. Who will cave and become the sweet escape first." 

but what Violet doesn't know she already has become his sweet escape. He lost. He caved first. She has built a home. His utopia, hung up pictures, placed a rug, fuzzy blankets everywhere and those fucking stars. She already invaded his utopia and became the sweet escape. 

"You're on sweets. Ya know I love a challenge." he smirks 

He plays it off like she hasn't already ruled his life for years. The escape with the girls? nah that was just getting emotions out so his utopia wasn't clouded with fantasies. There is a reason he never looked the girls in the face one position ever. so he could zone into his fantasies even if it was just a daydream as he railed another girl. 

He just smirks and turns to my dresser starting to pack up the rest of my comfy clothes. I knew there was so much going on in his mind, I just wish I knew it all. Can't I be the one to know everything? But I know it needs to be earned, it won't be just given he’s just like me. We may have known each other for years and grown up together but we never pushed the boundary of our minds. Only one other person has been allowed in mine, Tae and it wasn't easily given at all. Just how much do I let him in? Before I leave. 

His back is faced away as he is taking out the folded pajamas of my second drawer of cozy clothes. Cozy clothes are my weakness. Clearly.  "Who is taking you there Vi?" 

Oh fuck. "Uh Taehyung." I bite down on my bottom lip. 

He doesn't just turn back, he slowly turns his gaze towards me and squints his eyes at me. raising my hands up in defense "Okay okay I know you don't love him, but it was before this." pointing my finger back and forth between him and I. 

"Also in my defense I didn't wanna take you away from the shop, and you can't move with a motorcycle Mister."  rolling my eyes at him. 

He scoffs and poking his tongue in his cheeks "Could've used Jin's or Ma's. Ya know I would've dropped everything to help. Also next time you roll your eyes at me you’ll regret it Vi."

“I guess we’ll just how bad I’ll regret it then.” 

Standing up, finishing my pile, taking the ‘not keeping’ portion just to throw it in a drawer I'll fix it when I get back. As soon as I get up he takes the clothes from me and places them in the drawer and mumbles 'I'll fix it when she's gone'  honestly I don't know what I'd do without him. He is always one step ahead of me. I wouldn't be able to make it without him. That's why I'm trying my best to not break it before it even has started.   

"I know you would've, but that's the issue I couldn't have asked you if a small part of it was running from you.  Now could I?" Placing the ‘keep clothes’ on the bed.  He grabs my wrist and pulls me around to look at him. 

"I'm a reason you are running?" His eyes show so much emotion. Pain. Guilt. Uncertainty. They shine with a million stars twinkling in them ready to fall. His emotions have always been a driving force for him. Which I love about him. He puts all of himself into everything, but it can be his weakness. 

Chewing on my bottom lip, unable to voice it to him. How do I tell him? I can't. He is staring me waiting intently under his breath he says 'fucking stop' and I don't know what that pertains to. Stop what? Yoongi lifts his hand, placing his thumb under my bottom lip and pulls it from my teeth crewing on it. "You gotta stop that. I can't take it Vi." 

"Can't take it?" his hand moves to my cheek, rubs it up and down. 

"For fucks sake please stop biting your lip, it's driving me insane. No more questions about it, just stop it Violet." afterward running his tongue ring across his teeth I can hear the metal going side to side under his teeth, a habit he got after getting it. He used my name, not just my nickname..all I can say is. "Okay." 

"Vi, I didn't mean to come off harsh I-"

"Nah I get it Yoon." I pull his hand away from my face and walk into the bathroom to start getting the things I won't use until getting to the new place. He in turn follows me of course he can never let things just be, squatting down, opening the cabinet to take out the hair tools I will not be using for the party needing to pack them up as I stand my eyes meeting him in the mirror. 

Locked eyes staring at each other he comes closer and reaches around to grab the hair tools out of my hands, setting them on the counter. "Vi." I hum in response. He hasn't taken his eyes off mine since I stood up. My heart races. Why does he make me feel this way when he talks in that low raspy voice, never did I look at it that way when I heard it before. Yeah it would make appearances in my dreams, but in real life I push all those away into my mind for later of course. 

My dreams are where I escape, learning how to lucid dream has been my only escape from this world. Besides when I’m with the three people, they can take me to solace for a little bit. Hans, Tae, and Yoongi. But sometimes I even need to escape them. 

  He steps behind me closer and I feel his chest against my back, taking a shaky deep breath trying to regulate my emotions. Hell I have looked some of the worst offenders in the eyes, but his make me crumble. It makes no sense. How can I look at people who have done the worst crimes imaginable, have a normal conversation with them but he says my name and I forget how to breathe. 

His hand runs down my arm leaving goosebumps littered on my skin as he makes his way down my forearm. "Do you know how hard it is holding in how much I want to fuck you? claim you. Make you mine." his fingers now playing with mine looking down to see his fingers skimming over mine lightly. "Look at me." 

His fingers stop and just clasps his hand around mine tightly. I lift my head and I'm met with the most intense gaze I have witnessed from him, hearing the metal scrape his teeth as he sucks in a breath. Placing my other hand on my hip as I look for some comfort in myself which only makes him pull my hand off myself, placing his hand where mine was. 

I feel insecure looking at him like this, being this close even though it's all I ever have wanted. "Want to know why I can't handle it huh?" 

"Please." Might as well be nice right? but another side of me is thinking about my black silk sheets in my dreams. The way they feel against my hand as I reach to grip them in my most unholiest of moments. 

Gripping my hip tighter and pushing me against the counter. "when you wear nothing but these-" pulling at the top of my shorts waistband letting them snap back to my body. Hand reaching up very slowly, his eyes look down at my sports bra and back up to my eyes. You think I'm gonna say no? Nah if I don't take my chance now my mind makes me think will I lose the one time I'll feel his touch like this. I'm greedy, I know another terrible habit of mine. I hear the metal again scraping, I wonder what he is thinking cause his hand has stopped at my rib cage. 

His hand on my rib cage makes it feel like they are crushing everything but also healing the heart that never has had a chance to breathe fully. The metal noise might just become my new euphoria in my dreams with the little smirk he displays.  

I feel his middle finger start to rub circles on my body and the feeling could send me to heaven and I'd get kicked out in the first five seconds from my thoughts. See you all in hell is all that i can think. 

"Your skin Vi has always been so soft, it's like those damn silk sheets. I wanna be wrapped up in you. Smothered by you, Fuck." he groans at the end of his sentence his eyes aren't trained on mine anymore but look at where his hand is. Yoongi looks like he is having a mental battle with himself. I can see it and feel it from the way he squeezes my other hand yet so gently with lightly rubbing circles on my skin. He's been easy to read for years for me. I know he has these battles. I just didn't know the extent until now. I need to give him some reassurance I don't want him going to war with himself. 

"What if I'd liked to be in your sheets with you wrapped up? Maybe I got you the black silk sheets to match mine, to make you think of me in your bed." 

He squeezes my hip, looks at me. "I've always thought of you Princess. You're getting me sidetracked from my thoughts." 

"Don't you mean pulling you into your thoughts Yoon."

He inhales harshly says "fuck it" under his breath lets go of my hip, pulls the hand where we're connected turns me around making me gasp in shock by his actions.   I automatically look up at him. I feel his knee placed between my thighs. "You're mine now,  Got it Violet?" 

"We're not official and we are not placing labels on this while I'm away." pointing my finger back and forth between him and I. As much as I want to say 'I'm yours' and get on my fucking knees for him I can't just cave and place something on this when I'm about to not even be here for a year or more. I need to be rational and not listen to my subby mind to submit to him like all I ever have wanted to do.

He places his hand on my jawline, thumb rubbing up and down on my cheek he really knows how to hit my spots. My weaknesses. It's taking everything in me not to rub up on his knee. "Baby you've always been mine since day one. We're intertwined, my little fish." 

I gulp letting out a breath that I have been holding in way too long. The air fills my lungs and I feel like I'm high. "What makes you say that?"

"Cause the moment I set my eyes on you as that dumb Immature boy you've always been the brightest thing in my life Vi, shining when everything else was dull."

His smile isn't just a small one it's his gummy smile that makes me turn into mush, taking his hand away from my face he places them both on the counter trapping me in "I need a fix VI." looking at his chest rising up and down "Well ya gotta let me out so I can go get one." tapping on his forearm. 

"You just don't get it Vi." he lets out a sigh and adjusts so his eyes are in line with mine. "You. You're the fix I need." the eyes that looked at me with so much guilt minutes ago he flips so fast and I'm not sure I can understand how he flips so quickly. Yeah I did some research on his disorder but I never looked at the way he flips so quickly in a way like that. 

He's always been Yoongi and that's how he is. I'm used to it but in this sense I don't know where to feed off of his emotions  back and forth. Do I ignore his question that started this all, wait for it to come back up? I don't know. I was always playing with fire and I didn't know it. "Please Vi, just this once. remember we're each other’s until you're gone. I need a fix before it's gone." he licks his lips. He's staring not at my eyes anymore but trained on my lips. Those eyes look like they have never been fed before aching for something. "I'm Yours unt-" he doesn't even let me finish before his lips are pressed on mine greedily taking what is his. 

My lips are moisturized as for him they are cracked and dry, can't ever get him to use damn chapstick unless I put it on for him. The pit of my stomach is turning just like those butterflies he always seems to make erupt within me. Our lips move in sync with his roughness, I can feel the need behind each movement he makes. His hands at some point find their way to my hips one is squeezing but the other? It's tapping one finger at time from his pinky to thumb.

 One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

But somehow this feeling makes me sink in deep to my own desires of this like a damn meditation pulling me in. His tongue asks for permission and I don't think twice of it letting him, Feeling his tongue ring against my tongue it's different. I have always thought what it felt like hell I dream about it. It's just a piercing but it's him that makes it different. Euphoric. 

My chest is rising up and down,  my heart is beating so fast that you'd need a defibrillator to bring me back to life after this. Does he know what he is doing to me? I'm questioning everything I have pushed so far down. We both release for a second both taking rapid breaths he says 'fuck' under his many breath and he is still tapping on my hip over and over. Why? I don't know but I don't want it to stop it's better than the fucking squeezing at this point. 

"One more." he breathlessly says and just attaches back to my lips he doesn't ask for permission this time but just moves in sync with my lips guess he got his chapstick for today. He's taking all the moisture from my lips as he is devouring me for all that I'm worth.  We both pull away and hesitate to stop. I can feel it. I know he can also. He bites my lip and he pulls away slowly and releases it from his teeth ending with one last peck on my lips. 

Slowly opening my eyes I'm met with his head tilted up to the ceiling breathing readily. "God you're an angel and I'm just-" bringing his eyes down to look at me again "Lucifer dragging you to hell with me." 

"But what if I'm already in hell Luci. You just haven't run across me."  I blink up at him, his lips part and hear the metal scrap along his teeth. His lips curve up. 

"If that's the case, I've found you and you're not going anywhere my Lilith." he squeezes my hips with both hands this time letting go reaching my hair tools and turns to walk out the bathroom to the boxes spread out across the floor. "Y-yoon!" I rush to follow him into the bedroom and he's looking down at the box he placed them in. There is a light tent of red to his cheeks. There's my Yoon. It makes me smile a little but I can't tease him about it. "You can't just take all the packing for yourself! How will I know where's what?" 

He lifts his dead up and walks over to me with the light blush across his cheeks and bends down to my ear "Guess you're gonna have to pack me up too then." brushing against my shoulder and walking to the living room. 

"You can't pack everything Yoon!"  I rushed after him. He is already taking a picture of him and I on the wall for me to take. "Who says I can't, I know what you need, you forget I set this whole place up with Hans."He's just walking around me as I'm trying to keep up with him. 

For someone who doesn't like to move let alone can fall asleep wherever he is this is another side of him I rarely see. "Where is this Yoon all the time?" he scoffs. "Don't get used to it. I'm still the sleep deprived Yoon you know who can sleep hours and still be sleepy. I just can't waste any time with you Vi." he is grabbing the tape and tapes up a box. "Not like I don't know what you need to survive." Crossing my arms leaning on the door frame. "and what's that?" adding emphasis on every word spoken to him. 

"Your purple pajamas, cuties, fuzzy blankets, fuzzy socks for winter, silk sheets, vanilla scented bubble bath, reassurance constantly and not in a bad way, and Hans." He's forgetting one thing but do I call him out on it? hell yes. 

"You're forgetting one thing." he slowly walks up to me eyes scanning up and down my body there goes that fucking metal. I'll be hearing in my dreams for the rest of my days in my silk sheets. I'm sure I'll spend countless nights there by myself. "Oh yeah? Tell me Lils." He never was one for names but now he is making a nickname out of a nickname? Doesn't shock me at all. 

"You Yoon." biting on my bottom lip I never have been this blunt let alone to him. He steps closer and tapping my chin like when he puts my helmet on when our eyes meet his are glittered with millions of glitter shining back at me. "Good Girl. Silly me, how can I forget about me? guess I just always have wrapped you up in my silk sheets taking you everywhere with me."

"What do you mean Yoons?" I blink in confusion. 

"Another time princess. Let's get you packed so we can finish this night off right. projector and stars." he kisses my forehead but it isn't just a peck he lingers there for a second before he pulls away smiling at me. I know not to push farther; we already have pushed way too many boundaries for now. "Okays Yoons, but you can't do everything!" 

"Try and stop me sweets." he shrugs as he walks to clear out my nightstand. "Also we will be talking about why you were runnin’ from me." 

I guess he didn't forget about it, just his emotions come out in waves changing paths quickly and I need to understand it more. Maybe I can ask Jin? or maybe do more research. I just want to learn every little quirk he has and why he does it.  Some things I got to witness but others I'm seeing how he toned them down with me. It just makes me wonder why he was toning down for my sake or his own. I'm seeing different sides to the man I have been infatuated with since I was a little girl and it makes me want to learn all of them. This time away I want to learn everything I can. Start from the beginning, learning about him not just through him being my friend's protective older brother, but for Min Yoongi, the man that takes me to my own little heaven in hell.

Thank you for reading. ₊˚⊹♡

Previous | Next Chapter 8.5

All rights belong to @/Yoon-Topias. Do not copy/ translate.

[shurisneakers]

part 2 dropping tonight besties

(turn on post notifications for @shurisneakersupdates if you want a notif for the fic!!)

[star-my]

Vixen ~ Chapter One

➼ Pairing: Park Jimin x OFC (Shin Ara)

➼ Length: 5.7k

➼ Rating: pg-15

➼ Content: Arranged Marriage AU, CEO AU, Mafia AU | TW: Medical Issues (resolved), Mentions/Discussion of Human Trafficking (not by BTS or SKZ members) | JK is Ara's BFF and bodyguard and Best Boy; Bangtan and Stray Kids are mafia; think Kitty Gang Jimin; flirting and fluff; multiple ARMY and STAY easter eggs sprinkled throughout (I welcome comments detailing which ones you caught); author does her best to beat the Wattpad allegations and fails miserably, which is funny because she went straight to ao3 and skipped the orange app phase

➼ Many thanks to @kookthief @moonleeai & @yoongiobsessed for betaing this chapter&lt;3

➼ Taglist (Open): @bangtan-famiglia-net @kookthief @otome-wandering

➼ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of BTS, SKZ, or any other K-pop group mentioned in any way beyond the face and name claims the author made for this work.

➼ Chapter Two (14/10/23) ➼ Chapter Three (15/10/23) ➼ Masterlist ➼Ao3

The door to the opulent room swung open soundlessly, allowing the tall, muscular man to enter unnoticed. He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the young woman seated at the vanity.

“Your father has requested your presence ASAP. When will you be ready?”

The woman glanced up from her careful application of sparkly gold eyeliner.

“Give me five minutes, Kookie! Is he home?” She moved towards the walk-in closet across the spacious bedroom.

“He’s at the office. I’ll bring the car around, then.” The woman’s bodyguard –but first and foremost her friend– left, and she began the process of accessorizing.

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up to the tall office building in downtown Seoul, the headquarters of ShinCorp.

As the heiress of ShinCorp, Shin Ara was immediately escorted to the CEO’s office and served tea by the secretary.

“Appa?”

Secretary Kim set the tray on the coffee table, leaving father and daughter to their meeting.

Ara glided gracefully over  to warmly hug her father. “Jungkook told me you wanted to speak with me about an urgent matter. Is something wrong?”

Shin Jungok sighed, lowering himself onto the sofa across from his only child. “No, nothing is wrong. What has my beautiful daughter been accomplishing lately?”

Ara crossed her legs, smoothing her ruffled swiss-dot skirt over her knees. “I’ve been looking at property for my gallery. Other than that, I’ve been rather quiet. You’ve been busy with work, so I haven’t wanted to disturb you, Appa.”

Jungok smiled. “You are such a respectful child, Ara. Yes, I’ve been occupied with work. I just finished a meeting with the new CEO of Park Group.”

“Oh, their former CEO died recently, didn’t he? His son took over, I suppose? Awfully young to be CEO,” she mused.

“Yes, he’s only twenty seven, but he has a good head for business. We’ve never partnered with the Park Group before, though a contract was once drawn up between us. I guess he’s trying to show the board he’s capable despite his youth.” 

“Maybe he’s capable because of his youth,” Ara arched her brow at her father.

Jungok took a long sip of his tea. “Ara, are you seeing anyone?”

She blinked at the non sequitur. “Uh…no? I’ve been busy planning my gallery. I haven’t had time to date.”

“Park Jimin asked for your hand in marriage,” Jungok stated simply.

Ara stared. “What?”

“Will you at least think about it? I’m sure he’ll take good care of you and be a good husband to you, and if we make this partnership, he’ll be more solidly accepted as a businessman. You know I’m getting older, and ShinCorp will stay in our family when I retire. I am proud of you for following your own path, and a little pleased that you do not want to take over ShinCorp, but I want to make sure you are taken care of.”

“May I see the contract?”

Jungok handed her the portfolio, and she read through it carefully. “Will ShinCorp go to Mr. Park or to our children?”

“Mr. Park will have a share and your children will receive the rest. Until they come of age, you and he will have joint control over the company,” Jungok explained. “I know you don’t want to be CEO, but we must take caution in this day and age. I know you will make sure ShinCorp is run according to our mission statement.”

Ara hummed an acknowledgment and flipped over a page.

“Do you have Mr. Park’s number?”

Her father looked up in surprise. “Are you sure? I’m not pressuring you, Ara!”

“I know, Appa. I accept his proposal.”

“Well, I believe he left his card…” Jungok moved to his desk and shuffled through some papers. “...here!” He handed it to Ara.

“Er…the marriage is best announced and signed on sooner rather than later.”

Ara barely glanced up from creating a new contact in her phone.

“I’m aware, Appa,” she said briskly. “Will next Saturday work? I saw the perfect dress when I was out shopping with Unnie last week. I’ve been planning my wedding since I was a little girl, Appa.”

It was Jungok’s turn to stare at her. “In just over a week?”

She smirked. “Money is king, is it not? I’ll get everything done in time.” She patted his shoulder on her way to the door. “Leave it to me.”

~~~

Twenty minutes later, Ara slipped into her car. She clipped the seatbelt in, and Jungkook took off. 

“You’re looking at the future Mrs. Park Jimin!” she announced cheerfully.

“What?!” Jungkook swerved, then corrected the car.

“I’m marrying Park Jimin next Saturday if that works for him.” Her phone pinged. “Speak of the devil. ‘Yes, Saturday is perfect. Thank you for accepting my proposal. I am sorry it is so short notice and businesslike,’” Ara read aloud. “He sounds decent. Good.”

“He’d better be more than decent,” muttered Jungkook darkly, turning a corner smoothly.

Ara cooed. “Aww, are you worried about me? You’re the one who trained me for my black belt in taekwondo.”

“It’s literally my job, Ara!”

“I know, but still…Anyways, can you drop me off at the Whalien Cafe so I can meet all the girls at once?”

“Sure. Should I come in?”

“If you want. Have you ever tried their special 52 Hertz menu item? It’s sooo good.”

“No, I haven’t. I’ll come to crowd control your friends and try it while I’m there.”

“Wise choice.”

Ara and Jungkook walked into Whalien Cafe and ordered, then joined the five girls at two squished-together tables. Ara’s friends and unnie updated her on their lives since she had seen them last, then Ara dropped her bomb.

“Will you be my bridesmaids next Saturday?”

There was a beat of silence, then complete chaos erupted.Once they calmed down, she explained the situation. They immediately agreed to be her bridesmaids and began planning.

Ara explained her vision, then sat back as the ideas ran wild. By the end of the afternoon, she had a list of her favourite suggestions and a promise from each of her friends to join her the next day for dress shopping.

The friend group had met in college, except for Ara’s unnie, Kim Sihyeon. Sihyeon was the cousin of Jungok’s PA, Seokjin, who Ara viewed as an older brother.

Ara’s mother died in a car accident when Ara was eleven and Jungok immediately hired Ara a bodyguard-chauffeur. Jungok had Jungkook befriend Ara and trained him to become her new bodyguard-chauffeur when he was old enough. The other four members of the friend group were Jennie, Rose, Jisoo, and Lisa. They’d all been dorm mates in college and were quite close.

~~~

After a light supper, Ara spent the evening reserving things and purchasing necessary items for her upcoming nuptials.

Her phone dinged with an alert. Curious, she turned from her laptop and tapped on the message.

PJ: You’re certainly very organized! I was honestly expecting a month at best. I have people working on a story of how we met earlier. Here’s a link to the rough draft. Make whatever changes you want.

Inquisitive, Ara tapped on the link to the document, a professional publicist’s work, of course. It was well-written, if a little sensational, but she frowned at the extra drama sprinkled in, such as their coincidental meeting in Italy in the spring and their secret romance (none of which she recalled).

SA: Why do we need an article? Do you need this for appearances? *I* don’t mind being ‘just a business marriage’. It is a good story, though:)

PJ: I thought you would want it to seem as normal as possible. You are quite intriguing, Miss Shin.

SA: Good;) Let’s just release a formal announcement stating we’ve decided to get married. The media really doesn’t need anything else.

SA: I have the place and time booked for the reception and ceremony. Is there anything you’d like me to add, like family traditions?

PJ: Whatever you like. I will be giving you my halmeoni’s ring, if that’s alright with you.

SA: Of course! One final question…pink?

PJ: It’s a decent colour?

SA: 👍

A light knock echoed from the heavy wooden door, then a man popped his head into Jimin’s private office.

“Hey, Boss, there’s a box from your fiancée.”

“Bring it in,” the man behind the desk ordered. 

He carefully opened the box and lifted out a pastel-pink silk tie. The paper inside read, “I hope this hue of pink is a decent enough colour to wear to our wedding. If this is satisfactory, text me and I’ll send over the rest for your groomsmen. Black suits, please. ~SA”

Jimin smiled a little at the slightly wonky smiley face Ara had drawn beside her name and carefully replaced the tie.

PJ: It’s perfect. Thank you.

A woman all in black walked purposefully into the old warehouse. Several men and a few women were working busily in the large space, barely looking up at the click of her heels.

The door to the private rooms built into the warehouse swung open with the slight squeak of a hinge needing oil.

Gold eyes scanned over its occupants.

“Where’s Hyunjin?”

“He’s restocking the medical room since he got his new supplies,” answered a man with vermilion hair, stretching from his slump over a computer.

“Thanks, Chan.”

A tall man with long black hair popped out of a side room. “You called, Boss?”

The woman nodded shortly, clapping her hands for attention. “You all know that since Park Wonshik died, Bangtan’s been targeted. Well, the head of Bangtan had a brilliant idea to partner with the Grays, business-level and gang-level, through marriage.

“The head of Gray’s daughter is marrying Park Jimin on Saturday. The other mafia will find out tomorrow. With Bangtan and Gray united, the mafia  looking to take over Bangtan may set their sights on smaller game, so we need to be prepared for any backlash against us.

“Minho, you figure out if the others are planning to attack anyone. Hyunjin, find out how much Bangtan has on Stray Kids. Everyone else, get ready for an attack, worst-case scenario.”

“Yes, ma’am!” saluted the eight men in unison. They turned to their tasks, leaving Chan to approach the woman.

“Vix, you sure about this?”

Vixen’s blood-red lips curved in a smile. “Don’t worry, Channie. I have everything under control and I have plans for every variable, just like oppa taught me.”

Chan sighed. “Alright, then. I trust you, Vix.”

“Boss, here’s the file on Shin Ara you wanted.”

“Thanks, Hoseok.”Jimin took the file and flipped through it.

Good grades, though they slipped the year her mother Aeri died; friendly but only had a handful of close friends- four girls she met in college, four of her father’s employees, and one ex-boyfriend, Lee Minho, whom she was still friendly with. Graduated high school and college with honours, has an arts degree in photography, and had recently purchased a building on the edge of downtown Seoul for a gallery.

Who are you, Shin Ara? Why did you so readily agree to marry a stranger?

Jimin mulled over the possibilities, staring at her picture on the screen before him.

Another knock on the door roused him. “Sir, it’s time for your suit fitting.”

~~~

Jimin looked eagerly at the doors, waiting for the first glance of his wife face-to-face.

The audience stood as Ara strutted down the catwalk with a grace only a girl who had been bred in high society could achieve.

She took his hand, her fingers gripping his tightly. Her hand fit perfectly in his. A whiff of her floral perfume wafted through the air. Her very presence seemed familiar, though Jimin figured that could be from the hundreds of texts they had exchanged in the past eleven days.

Kim Seokjin was officiating at Ara’s request; it seemed to Jimin that he spoke slowly on purpose, taunting him with the veiled face of his bride.

Finally they reached the vows, and Ara’s grip on his hand tightened momentarily.

Jimin slipped his grandmother’s ring onto her finger, admiring the sparkle that seemed right. The three red garnets bookmarked by tiny diamonds suited her.

Ara slid the gold band on his finger, a little shock running up his arm from where she touched him.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“...You may kiss the bride,” announced Seokjin.

Jimin carefully lifted the veil over Ara’s reddish-brown hair, careful not to mess up her hairdo, and met her eyes with a smile he hoped wasn’t too eager.

Her eyes locked on his, a hint of a smile in their mahogany depths. He smiled back, placing his hand on her cheek, his thumb cupping her jaw. The steady beat of her heart pounded under his thumb as he dipped her slightly, the crowd cheering in celebration.

With a wink at her surprised glance, he swept his thumb over her lips, pressing his own to his thumb.

Seokjin gave him a minuscule nod that he caught out of the corner of his eye. No one else appeared to have caught the faux-kiss, thankfully.

Jimin really didn’t want to have to explain to his teasing brothers that the big, bad mafia boss didn’t want to scare his new bride away.

Sihyeon straightened the train of Ara’s Alexander Wang dress and handed her the bouquet of pink ranunculus. Jimin extended his arm, Ara looped hers through his, and they swept down the aisle.

Jungok caught his eye on the way by, “Don’t forget your promise,” he mouthed.

The promise, in Jimin’s copy of the contract– Jungok’s only stipulation.

Do not let Ara find out that you or I are in the mafia.

Ara was a total Daddy’s girl, only idolizing him. He didn’t want to break her heart, tell her that her appa wasn’t all she’d thought he was.

Jungok had been secretly overjoyed when she had come to him, saying she wanted to study art, not business to prepare for inheriting ShinCorp. It was much easier to hide the fact that he was the don of the Gray mafia, one of the biggest in Seoul.

Jungok could leave ShinCorp to his Head of Strategy, Kim Namjoon, who would run the Grays as well, and Ara would be none the wiser.

Jungok’s one wish was to never crush his little girl’s world of gold and pink and glitter and peace.

Yes, he had insisted she learn a martial art and have a bodyguard, but many CEOs’ families had more protection. Aeri’s accident may have truly been an accident, but after he failed to protect his wife, he vowed to make sure Ara would always be protected.

After the luxurious reception, the Parks drove to Jimin’s home and base of operations, codenamed Cypher. Jimin drove them himself- Ara had brought Jungkook with her but given him the night off, and he was hitting it off with his new colleagues and Jimin’s friends/groomsmen, Kim Taehyung, Jung Hoseok, Min Yoongi, Choi Soobin, and Choi Beomgyu.

Jimin pulled the bulletproof SUV up to the steps and sighed in relief. None of the other mafia or gangs had attempted anything, and Bangtan was now officially allied with Gray; the gangs pressuring and testing him since his father’s death should relax now.

He leaned his head against the headrest and looked over at Ara. Oh, right.

“So…it didn’t seem quite right discussing it over text, but where should I put your things? I have a suite prepared for you, or you can have the master bedroom, whichever you’d like…”

Ara smiled a little at his awkwardness, masking her own. They hadn’t exactly had the time to discuss the finer points of married life, beyond the ‘getting married’ point.

“I think the suite would be best for now, although I am looking forward to getting to know you better, and I hope we can make this relationship work.”

“I do, too.” Jimin pulled out his phone to text the housekeeper to move the rest of Ara’s things to the prepared suite . “You looked beautiful, I meant to say that earlier.”

“Thank you. Er- did you dye your hair to match the colour scheme? I wasn’t expecting that level of cooperation.”

Jimin chuckled, getting out of the SUV and stretching to relieve the lingering awkwardness. “No, that was a coincidence. I’m glad it didn’t clash with the colour scheme, though. When you asked about suits and colours all I could think of at first was, ‘Oh no, what if she wants one of those ultra-modern black-and-white weddings’ or something.”

Ara’s light laughter floated through the crisp night. “Don’t worry, I like colour. Photographer, y’know?”

“I was really impressed by how quickly you got everything prepared.” He paused, debating on broaching the subject now or later. Curiosity won, and he plowed ahead. “Can I ask why you agreed to marry me so quickly?”

Ara shrugged, bending over to pull off her sparkly pink Louboutins. “You needed a partnership with my father’s group. Appa would have a beneficial business agreement with your company. I would like to be a wife, and in the future, a mother. I’ve never had a long-term boyfriend or anything…all the chaebol heirs are too old, too young, pricks, immature, or just not my type. I confess I did a little stalking of you, and Appa approved of you. Even if this was a business marriage, he would never suggest a man who wouldn’t treat me well. And you saved me the time and stress of introducing my boyfriend to my family and waiting to see if the verdict would fall in your favour or not,” she shrugged again. 

Jimin nodded, fascinated by the peek into Ara’s brain. “I hope that, at the very least, we’ll get along as friends. Would you like to go on a date tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’m free. What time?”

~~~

Ara settled into her very comfy bed and pulled out her phone.

SA: 2:00 p.m. tomorrow

KS: Done so soon?

SA: Shut up. 2:00, be there or don’t.

KS: Got it. I’ll be there.🙄

At 1:55 p.m., Ara descended the stairs of her new house, ready for her date. Her peach tunic dress hugged her curves and fell to her knees, complemented by her chunky brown leather heels, gold jewelry, and an oversized burgundy purse.

Jimin had just pulled the car up, and his jaw loosened a little. “You look stunning!”

Ara blushed, pushing a loose curl behind her ear. “Thanks, you look pretty nice yourself.”

Jimin wore his loose white suit well, his plum shirt complementing his peachy-pink hair.

The car ride to downtown Seoul was filled with quiet chatter as the newlyweds got to know each other better.

Jimin pulled up to an art museum and got out, heading quickly to Ara’s side to open the door for her. She took his arm, and he let her tell him all about the art and curation as they toured the museum.

“Abeoji first took me to a museum when I was six, I think? I really liked it and begged Eomma to take me back. I just kept making my parents take me to museums until I’d seen them all, and then repeated it. I tried drawing and painting, but I wasn’t very good at them and didn’t want to put in the hours of practice to attempt to be good.”

They strolled along to the photography section, having gone through the traditional paintings and sketches.“Photography caught my attention when I was ten or eleven…Jungkook had taken up photography as his hobby, and he let me try sometimes. I really loved those times taking pictures and decided that’s what I wanted to do as a job, not run ShinCorp. Appa was surprisingly accepting of my decision, but he’s always spoiled me a bit,” Ara laughed.

“Jungkook, as in, your bodyguard?” Jimin asked curiously. “He couldn’t have been much use when you were ten…he’s only a bit older than you, right?”

“Oh, Kook wasn’t my bodyguard till he was eighteen. We grew up as childhood friends since my eomma’s accident. He’s from Busan, but he was kidnapped and trafficked around the time of my mom’s accident. The police rescued him and some other children when they broke up the ring of gangsters that had been trafficking kids,” explained Ara, pausing in front of a photo of a field of wildflowers.

“Jungkook was an orphan, so one of the policemen who’d rescued them fostered him. He was Appa’s friend, and they thought it would be good for both of us to have a companion.”

Ara turned to see what Jimin thought of this revelation. He was frowning at the floor, one hand in his pocket. Running his other hand through his hair, he exhaled. “That must have been tough.”

Ara nodded. “He doesn’t speak about it much–sensitive, you know? Oh, and you don’t need to worry about…anything between us,” she added hesitantly. “We did have a crush on each other in high school, but we realized we’re better off as friends. There’s no competition.”

He raised his head to smirk at her, pushing his hair back one final time. “So, there’s a chance of winning your heart?”

She smiled back, lifting her lashes flirtatiously. “I’d say there’s a good chance.”

“Shall we go for dinner, then?”

“Sure, I could eat. Could we try this new French restaurant nearby?”

“Whatever you want, milady. What’s its name?”

“L’Domino. Main floor of the Star Lost hotel,” Ara pointed down the street to a tall building several blocks away, visible from the museum parking lot.

“Ah…I’ve heard of that place. Let’s go, then!”

The maitre’d heard their names and immediately showed them to a table. Dim lighting, but not so dim you couldn’t see what you were eating, opulent fabrics and the quiet instrumental soundtrack gave the dining room an atmosphere oozing exclusivity. Jimin pulled out Ara’s chair for her, then sat opposite her.

A black-suited waiter approached, his chubby cheeks lifted in a smile. “Good evening! My name is Jisung; I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with a beverage?”

At D9, Vixen’s HQ, Chan picked up the phone, halting its first ring. “Chan.”

“Christmas, it’s me. Have Park Jimin’s hacker find Jeon Jungkook’s file of his kidnapping. Shin Ara told him about it; he’ll be suspicious.”

“Got it. Did Seungmin make the drop?”

“The goods are in position. I’ll contact you later for news on our plans, I just wanted to give you a head start on the file. Vixen over and out.”

“Thank you for the lovely date, Princess. I enjoyed getting to know you. Perhaps we could make this a regular thing?”

Jimin opened the front door, and Ara stepped into the low-lit foyer. “Thank you. I had a lot of fun, and ditto,” she returned. “Making this regular sounds lovely.”

Jimin inhaled and pushed further. “Would you like to have breakfast together in the mornings if I’m not at the office early?”

“I’d love to. What time do you normally eat?”

“Quarter to eight. Does that work for you?”

“Sounds perfect. See you tomorrow, then?”

“See you then. Sleep well,” he called after her, already halfway up the stairs.

“You as well. Goodnight, Jimin.” Ara entered her suite, all done in pastels with gold accents. It was either a strange coincidence or someone had been talking (she bet it was her appa), but it was very similar to her room at home.

She headed to the ensuite to begin her nighttime routine, replaying the whole date with Jimin.

She had expected maybe dinner or an outing, but not the entire afternoon and evening. It was lovely, but she wondered if Jimin would face any backlash over spending so much time off work. It was crucial he maintained a flawless profile in the first months of being appointed CEO, Ara was enough of a businessman’s daughter  to know that. Their marriage was, in part, to help stabilize his takeover, and she didn’t want to be a hindrance.

He was a perfect gentleman and quite attentive. She’d miss his company, but she’d make sure their next date was a little shorter. By their first anniversary, he should be able to spend more time with her again.

It’s not like she was expecting love and him to wait on her hand and foot, even if she did hope they’d grow to genuinely care about each other. Time flew by, anyway– she’d survive a few months without his constant presence. Resolved to broach the subject at breakfast the next morning, she crawled into her comfy bed and replayed his every action again.

He was too perfect. She’d find his flaw sooner or later.

Jimin tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk and sighed. Finally, he pushed a button and asked for Jungkook to be fetched.

Minutes later, Ara’s bodyguard stood at attention in front of him.

“You’ve known Ara since you were eleven?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You were adopted by Jeon Jeonghwa, an officer in Seoul’s police department, Organized Crime division?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ara told me you were kidnapped from Busan and brought here by traffickers, till you were rescued by your adoptive father.”

Jungkook nodded.

“You became her bodyguard at eighteen…you’ve trained in martial arts for twelve years?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Shin insisted Ara and I take self-defense lessons, and I wanted more.”

“You know who Shin Jungok is? Who I am?” Jimin leaned back in his chair, studying Jungkook.

“Yes, sir. Head of the Gray Gang and the Bangtan Family.”

“Does Ara suspect who we are?” Jimin narrowed his eyes. The million-dollar question…or maybe, billion-dollar, considering the revenue estimated to be brought in by this alliance.

“No, sir. Mr. Shin wants her to know nothing about your other business. He’s made sure she knows nothing.”

“Tell me if she ever mentions anything about it to you, please. Thank you for your time.”

“Yes, sir. Also…there was never really anything between us. We’re like siblings, sir.”

Jungkook left, and Jimin resumed his finger tapping, staring at the spot where the man had stood.

Time went by, and the newlyweds fell into a routine. They would have breakfast together four times a week when Jimin wasn’t ‘at the office early’. When he came home, they would have dinner, either trying out a new restaurant or one of Ara’s home-cooked meals. 

Cooking was her hobby, and she enjoyed experimenting with various cuisines and fusions.

Mrs. Lee, the housekeeper, let her have free reign of the kitchen, a feat not easily achieved.

The long-date problem was solved by the compromise of several shorter dates. Once a week, Jimin would take Ara on a coffee or lunch date, the short distance between Ara’s gallery and Park Group’s buildings coming in handy so they could stretch out their precious minutes together. 

Ara had almost finished setting up her gallery and excitedly shared her plans for the opening and all the organizing she had to do. Jimin was bemused by her enjoyment of organizing things and creating organizational systems, imagining if she knew about his secondary business and how she’d whip everyone into shape. He had no doubt that she would be a force to be reckoned with if someone got into her path. Grinning at the mental image of Ara siccing Jungkook and maybe his own men on someone standing in her way, he realized he was smiling like a loon and quickly smoothed out his expression.

Just in time.

His secretary knocked on the door and poked his head in. “Sir, the dress was delivered. However, Mrs Shin has not opened it yet.”

With a fond smile, he rolled his eyes. She was probably busy focusing on the networking for the ball tonight.

For all her love of order, she could be so scatterbrained and distracted sometimes. Her suite was a disaster when she was getting ready to go out, and she was always leaving something behind somewhere. Maybe it should have annoyed him, but it only endeared her to him more. She wasn’t completely perfect, something that reassured him to no end. Perfect people were too good to be true, something that made him suspicious of Ara and Jungkook in the beginning.

At first, he’d only spent so much time with Ara because he wanted to know what she was hiding behind that girly-girl, society and gilded mask, but as they became closer, he realized she truly was that good-hearted; not shallow at all, but she didn’t shy away from being the cliche chaebol princess.

Her openness drew him to her like a moth to a flame. He had so many secrets. What was it like to just be who you are, unapologetically? Not worry about what people thought of you?

Jungkook was similar to Ara, probably because they’d been practically attached by the hip for over a decade. He’d quickly proven himself to Jimin’s closest circle, and as Mrs Shin’s guy, he was quickly welcomed to the inner ranks. He gave Jimin good advice about how to deal with Ara, which Jimin truly appreciated, and he was always down to join Jimin in a workout or spar.

Even Hoseok, Jimin’s Head of Security, approved of Jungkook, a difficult achievement.

By the second month of the contract marriage, Ara and Jungkook were permanent fixtures in the Bangtan Family’s life, and it seemed unthinkable that anything should happen to them. They were Parks now, and it seemed like they always had been.

Jimin knocked on Ara’s door, fiddling with his garnet cufflinks while he waited. The thick carpeting muffled her footsteps, and the door swung open unexpectedly.

His jaw dropped.

The form-fitting red dress had a sparkling corset bodice, laced up tightly to emphasize his wife’s curves, and a hint of thigh winked at him from the slit in the gauzy skirt.

Diamonds glinted from her ears, between fluffy curls he wanted to wrap around his fingers.

Shin Ara looked every inch the mafia queen she was, even if she didn’t know it. 

Jimin’s gaze slowly slid down to her strappy gold heels, then back up, making Ara blush.

“You look wonderful,” he said, extending his hand.

“Thank you.”

~~~

Jimin proudly escorted his wife into the high society, clandestine mafia ball.

Jungok spotted them arriving and came over to greet them.

Every two weeks, the entire group of Gray and Bangtan’s inner circles came together for dinner. Jungok had been at their mansion two days ago, yet he acted as if it had been two months.

“Hello, my beautiful daughter; Jimin. You look so much like your mother,” Jungok stared wistfully at Ara. “Speaking of, when will I get my own grandchildren?”

Blushing furiously, Ara thwacked her father’s arm. “Appa!”

“What? I’m an old man, I want to see my grandchildren before I die.”

Ara scoffed. “You’re so dramatic, Appa; you’re not that old. Anyways, how’s your new secretary doing? Has he learned anything yet?” she grinned, recalling her father’s exasperated rant on the secretary’s new structuring and organization tactics earlier that week.

“Yes, Seungmin just needed some time to learn the ropes; he’s quite bright. When will you have your opening night?” Jungok switched the topic.

“Next month, the twelfth. I’m so excited!”

Jimin chimed in with a chuckle, “It’s all she’s been focused on for a while now.”

Ara glared playfully at him and swept off for some punch. 

Rejoining the men, she saw her father grip Jimin’s wrist tightly and speak lowly into his ear.

“Appa? Gwaenchana?”

“Just a little thirsty,” Jungok said thickly. Ara quickly passed him her punch and watched in horror as it spilled all over the front of her dress, the cup crashing to the floor moments before Jungok.

“Appa!” Ara stared at the sweat gathering on his forehead, at the light, fast breaths he was taking as he weakly tugged at his tie to loosen it. 

"Call an ambulance!" She demanded of no one in particular, crouching beside him in worry.

Jimin dialed the emergency line quickly and waited for the ambulance to come. Jungkook rushed over, checking Jungok’s pulse and loosening his collar and cuffs, rolling him onto his side.

The EMTs arrived and transported Jungok to the hospital, sirens blaring as they sped through the streets.

Ara nervously twisted her fingers in her lap, her gaze fixed on the flashing lights directly ahead of them as Jimin followed the vehicle carrying her father.

Finger twisting was joined by impatient pacing in front of the row of chairs as she awaited any news.

After what seemed like hours of pacing under the glaring white lights, the doctor who’d taken her father approached.

“Mr. Shin is stable but unconscious right now. He had a heart attack. Do you know if he had any of these symptoms lately?” the doctor rattled off a list of concerning things Ara wished she knew about.

She shook her head helplessly. “I-I don’t know. I just got married recently and moved out- I’ve only seen him briefly…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jimin wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, returning from making calls to his secretary, letting her know that he wouldn’t be in the next day. “You didn’t and couldn’t know– that’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault; it’s just a fact. Your dad is stable now. It’ll be okay, yeah?” His hand rubbed soothing strokes up and down her arm. “Ara, you’re cold.” Shrugging his coat off,  he wrapped it around her like a hug.

“We’d like to run some tests on Mr. Shin, just to make sure he’s okay besides this issue,” said the doctor, eyeing her sympathetically. “Could you come to my office to sign some papers?”

Once everything was finally sorted out and she had seen her father, reassured that he was going to be okay and there was nothing for her to do at present, Jimin took her home and sent her straight to bed.

Tucking her in, he smoothed the comforter over her shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “He’ll be okay, Princess.”

“Thank you for everything, Jimin.” She blinked up at his shadowed profile.

“Of course. Get some sleep.” His finger brushed her cheek, then she heard his light footsteps head toward the door and the quiet snick of the door closing.

Closing her eyes, she did her best to sleep. Its comforting embrace welcomed her swiftly.