#gotbang au
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The One Where It’s My Truth
Jackson Wang X RM, Jin X RM (Namjackjin)
Description: Jackson Wang gives Namjoon flirting advice and pretends he’s okay with Namjoon loving Jin.
Content Warnings: So much Namjin angst (sorry not sorry), mild cursing, steamy and sensual but no smut
A/N: So this ends this Namjackjin trilogy, but never fear casual readers, there are more set after this/ in this universe so their story continues! Let me know what you think! (Also, happy Festa!)
PART I
He liked getting what he wanted.
Was this why he was back here, pacing in front of Namjoon’s door? A tiger in a cage. He knocked again.
“Hello?” Namjoon said as he opened the door, sticking his painstakingly messy head into the opening. Ah yes, Jackson remembered, that was the reason he was here. Kim Namjoon. Namjoon-ah. It would be easiest and best for everyone involved if he just said what he came to say and left. But Jackson wasn’t fond of doing things the easiest way, as his bandmates never hesitated to remind him. So, rather than say his piece, he crossed his arms and tilted his chin, mocking tough. “Uh, oh, hey,” Namjoon began, his face unable to return to normal from his initial shock.
Jackson laughed and broke his pose. He playfully hit RM on the side of the head. “’Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Namjoon mutely stood aside, thinking god knew what. Jackson bounced into Namjoon’s apartment as if he hadn’t left. Maybe he hadn’t. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d woken up and seen the way Namjoon looked at Jin. “So, I have an excellent proposal,” he started, toeing off his shoes. Jackson wasn’t sure what he was starting to say, but he had found out some time ago that sometimes it was better just to let his mouth do all the work.
Namjoon continued to stare, and Jackson plowed ahead before he remembered he was only human. “Okay, first, I know you’re in love with Jin.”
“I – I…”
“Speechless is fine. I have that effect on people,” Jackson said and winked. He knew that Namjoon hated it when he was cocky. And fake. But maybe it would be better if he acted like this. “I’ll help you. Be your confidant. Tips,” he said.
RM shook his head, confused at first and then angry. He crossed his arms, but he wasn’t being fake playful. “And what gave you the impression that I was in love with Jin?” Because you aren’t in love with me, Jackson thought. “You don’t even know him. Come on, you don’t know me!” Namjoon turned around and began to walk towards his kitchen.
Jackson caught up to Namjoon quickly, a hand stretching out and catching the other man’s hip, spinning him around to meet him in the middle of the floor. Jackson wondered if Namjoon felt his hand on him like his hand was on him nearly two weeks ago now, a hand hot and heavy and he wondered if the memories would hold him down and sink him to the bottom of the sea. “I want to know you. I want to help you,” he said. “I’m your friend!” he exclaimed, too loud for the moment, but he had to diffuse the bomb. He let go the other man and stepped back.
“Why am I saying yes?” Namjoon said after a moment. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling and gave a half-grin, one that was more half-sad than half-happy.
+++
Jackson already knew what neither of them voiced. That Jin and Namjoon already had a secret language of their own. There was nothing he could do to help. There was so much he didn’t know. But he was an infinite optimist, and even though RM played at being a realist or artfully cynical, Jackson liked to think that he too was willing to have faith in simple things.
Jackson wished, not for the first time, that he could tell what was going on in the other man’s mind. “What are you thinking?”
“Why do you always ask that?”
“Why don’t you ever answer?” Jackson made a goofy face at the other man. “Just admit it, you’re thinking of me without my clothes. It’s cool man. I mean it’s not like there’s any surprises for you.”
“Oh! Okay, are we playing it like that?” Namjoon said, shocked but not overly. “This is a public restaurant. I have an image.”
Jackson snorted. “Yeah right. Oh, oh, try this. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“No, no, are you ready?”
“You’re a shitty teacher,” RM snorted.
Watch
Jackson leaned forward and laughed low.
And
“You’re a mess, Namjoon.” He reached out a hand and brushed a loose hair from the other man’s forehead before sitting back.
Learn.
Namjoon nodded intently, but Jackson noticed with satisfaction the blush that was spreading across his face. “Like this,” he said, and mimicked the motion, his fingertips brushing Jackson’s forehead. Jackson resisted the urge to plant a kiss on Namjoon’s palm, and for once, his mouth listened.
“Wow, Kim, you’re starting to be a little less like this –” he made a frantic fluttering motion with his arms. “And a little more like this,” he said nodding his head with his fingers on his chin in an interesting imitation of Taehyung.
“Hey! Are you saying Taeh is sexy?”
“Easily the sexiest member of BTS.”
Fine, Namjoon’s eyes said. “When are you going to introduce me to JB?”
+++
They were on set for a music video when Namjoon walked in through the side door, searching over the tops of passing heads. “Jackson, your boy is here,” Bambam noted, wiggling his eyebrows.
“He’s not my boy,” Jackson said automatically, reserved and curious. He jogged over to where the other man was standing. They watched as their friend and brother-in-arms bent his head together with RM, squeezing the other man’s arm and grinning.
“Look at them!” Yugygeom giggled, and JB hit him on the arm absently. Jackson walked back towards them, pretty obviously imagining that RM was still standing at the doorway watching him walk away. But the other man had already left.
Mark moved forward and intercepted Jackson, flanked by Jinyoung. They each grabbed an arm and dragged an only vaguely protesting Jackson into a back hallway. “Tell me how the maknae can see what you can’t,” Jinyoung started without preamble. He could be quite blunt.
Mark shot his friend side-eye before approaching the matter with a more sympathetic tone. “Jackson, this is too much for you.”
“I’m not doing anything!” He stopped and leaned against the wall, hearing the whining tone in his own voice. “He’s my friend.” His friends just stared at him, unamused. “He’s got his first date… well, I mean he’s hanging out with Jin tonight. He’s nervous.” Jackson shrugged.
“You’re in love with him,” Jinyoung stated abruptly, and Mark sighed.
Jackson closed his eyes for the briefest moment – most people wouldn’t have even noticed (Mark and Jinyoung weren’t most people) – before opening them. He rolled his eyes. “Love? This isn’t a movie. I like him, sure. Sure. But if you think –”
“We don’t think that you set this whole thing up as some scheme –” Mark began.
“What if I did? What if I meant it to be like this from the beginning?” Jackson asked, and he was smiling but his chest hurt, and he couldn’t understand why.
“I highly doubt that,” Mark answered.
“Sometimes I say things without actually thinking…”
“Noooooooo,” Jinyoung drawled, but he was smiling.
“Okay…” Mark started, but Jackson laughed and pulled them in for a sideways hug, artfully dodging whatever advice his friends had been hoping to impart.
PART II
Jin wrapped Namjoon in a hug as soon as the door opened. He had thought the other man would never call him, which is ridiculous, of course (but how could he not think it)? But really, why wouldn’t Namjoon want to be his best friend? They were best friends, he repeated to himself, and tried not to get lost in the familiar smell of soft cologne and the food he’d cooked – he’d cooked? – for dinner. Whatever was new about his friend, nothing could change that they were Namjoon’s arms around him.
“Come on,” Namjoon said and moved aside so that he could come through the door.
After that, Jin couldn’t help but admit it was strange at first. They didn’t talk much, or look at each other, but then one of them told an old story, or mentioned something one of the other Bangtan boys had said, and then they forgot the passing of time. They forgot (or pretended to) the fact that they hadn’t talked in such a long time. And that some of that time wasn’t the consequence of life getting in the way of the way they loved to look into one another’s eyes and make the other one laugh, but their own stubbornness.
No, Jin thought, watching RM out of the corner of his eyes. Not stubbornness. What was it? Jin turned to face his friend, and froze as he noticed RM leaning toward him. He thought his stomach was probably a puddle at his feet, and he was acutely aware that he’d never tried to love anyone before. He remembered sleepless nights, shallowly wondering why it was so unfair. Why he wasn’t allowed to love anyone?
RM reached over and pushed a stray hair off of Jin’s forehead. RM’s fingers had barely left his forehead when Jin bust up laughing. It should have been sexy or romantic, in front of the fireplace. Maybe to anyone else it could have been. But Jin panicked, and he couldn’t look past how ridiculous the move was coming from RM, his sometimes cocky but mostly flustered and emo Namjoon.
Namjoon for his part evidently didn’t agree with Jin’s humorous appraisal of the situation. He turned away, face set before standing up and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Hey, are you okay?” Jin asked, putting his foot in it, probably.
“Okay? Am I okay? No, for fuck’s sake, I’m not okay!”
Jin wasn’t taken aback. He knew, of course. He knew what they both knew and had felt so deeply it hurt him to breathe sometimes. Like when he sat miles and miles away from him and sat with his fingers over his keyboard or his pen hovering above the paper and wondered what to write, how to say the things they never had to say. Namjoon was his words. Namjoon always knew how to write what he was feeling better than he could ever say out loud.
He wasn’t surprised, he realized. He was angry. Because Jin had just as much a right as anyone to be pissed about this. It was his anger too. This thing between them was never one way.
But Jin pushed it back, because he couldn’t seem to stop wanting to fix it, make it better. Kiss it, put a Band-aid on it. Make it like it never happened because wasn’t it easier this way? “Hey, I understand. But please, sit down,” he said.
“Sit down? Sit down and what, exactly? We’ll talk about old times? You’ll tell me about what it was like when you were gone? What could you possibly understand about how I’m feeling?”
“Namjoon.”
“You never wrote me! And now, now I think I imagined goddamn everything between us, didn’t I?” Namjoon shouted.
This time Jin did reel back like the other man had hit him. He looked up at Namjoon, and the only thing betraying his anger was his eyes that blazed in the light from the fire. “Oh, you forgot already. I saw you. You slept with someone else,” he said intensely, not shouting and raging because he didn’t have to.
“You can’t shame me! I waited. I waited and waited, and then I thought it was all a dream,” Namjoon said, and he sat back down next to Jin. “I thought I was crazy, and you never wrote.” And it was Jin who felt guilty, felt guilt so toxic it curdled his stomach. “Please, do not shame me. Because- because I am not ashamed, Jin.”
“I didn’t know what to say,” Jin said. “In the letters?”
“Don’t cry, I cry when you cry.”
“I didn’t know what to say. We never said it, Namjoon. We never said I love you.”
“I know,” he said, and he looked away into the fire. Jin watched his profile in the soft light and saw him swallow once, twice. “He was there for me,” he said to the floor, and his voice broke just the tiniest bit. “Wouldn’t even leave when I tried to kick him out,” he added with a small smile. Jin reached out towards him and pulled him close, Namjoon nestling into his neck, their legs tangled. Namjoon’s arms circled round his waist and they were Namjoon’s arms, same as before, but he knew they couldn’t pretend anymore. It wouldn’t do.
They sat that way for some time before Jin asked, “Do you love him?”
Namjoon picked his head up a bit, and his voice was drowsy when he responded, “What?”
“Who.”
“Who?” Namjoon echoed.
“Jackson.”
Namjoon sat up and rubbed a crick in his neck, scooting forward to the edge of the couch. Jin rubbed a hand up the back of his spine, leaned forward and feeling bold, kissed the back of Namjoon’s neck. As if they weren’t discussing another man. As if there wasn’t a problem in the world with discussing another man as they sat by the firelight and held one another.
“Honestly?” Namjoon asked, and turned his head to read Jin’s face. Jin nodded. He wanted to know, and he wasn’t sure if the news would wound him, or set him free. “Honestly, I don’t know. He confuses the hell out of me.”
“Like me?”
Namjoon turned fully around and only hesitated a second before placing his hands on either side of Jin’s face. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in the world. Even like this,” he added. Like this meaning confused and content and angry and regretful of time lost – but not, Jin remembered, shameful. Jin also had no time for shame and so he leaned forward and captured Namjoon’s mouth with his own.
But it was a kiss of the sort that neither expected. It was sincere and it was bittersweet, but it was finite. They hugged and Namjoon curled up half on the other man’s lap and was soon asleep. Jin, on the other hand, did not sleep for a long time. He stared into the fire, and he looked at Namjoon’s face, and he wondered. He wondered about his own future. He’d never had his own life before, after all.
It would be nice to live for himself.
Part III
When Namjoon answered his door, he didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. He didn’t know if he was happy about what they’d wordlessly decided last night. He rubbed the side of his face where the crease marks from sleeping on the couch wouldn’t go away. The light of day was a judge and jury. He’d asked Jin whether he had imagined everything between them before Jin had gone away, but at the same time, didn’t everything him and Jackson hang on a rainstorm in the pitch black? Maybe love belonged to the night. Had he really given up so much for-
“Jackson?” he said, surprised, staring at the man standing on his doorstep. “You look like shit.”
Jackson’s worried face evaporated and he grinned. “Fuck you!”
“Well, good morning to you, too.” Namjoon said, and he bit his lip. “Is everything okay?” he asked, though it wasn’t that unusual for the other man to pick him up first thing in the morning for who knows what. It was unusual for him to be anything but immaculately dressed. His outfit was slept in, hair shoved beneath a hat, and his arms were crossed like the nice summer breeze stung.
His face grew serious again. “I guess it’s early… but… um, wow, you ruined my serious speech.”
“You, serious?”
“Namjoon, I can’t be your friend.”
“What? Is it because I haven’t showered today?”
Jackson’s exterior melted, and for once, Namjoon didn’t have to wonder what he was like on the inside. He’d thought that Jackson didn’t wear a mask like other people. He’d assumed a lot about him. “See, I’m a joke to you, and that’s okay. I like making you laugh, but I couldn’t sleep last night… And, well, I pretended I was okay with everything, but I guess I had to know deep… you can’t look at me like…” Jackson gave a half-smile, seeming to relax as he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I’ll just see you around, you know?” he said before turning and walking away from a stunned Namjoon.
Namjoon jogged down the sidewalk, half-remembering Yoongi’s advice from weeks before. He had been right, of course. Life couldn’t make sense. Love would never make any sense. “Hey!” he yelled, and it was summer and it was sunny and he scolded his earlier thought that boys like Jackson only belonged to the night. “How do I look at him? How does…”
Jackson stopped, and Namjoon walked around him on the sidewalk. Jackson looked up at him, chin defiant, mouth resigned, and eyes steady. But it wasn’t the way Jin looked at him, or even the way he looked at Jin. It was the way Jackson looked at Namjoon.
Namjoon closed the distance between them. Jackson tilted his head up and met his lips halfway. RM slide his hands up his sweatshirt so that he could feel the other man’s skin beneath his fingertips. “I don’t understand,” Jackson said eventually.��
“Did you really think I needed lessons in flirting?”
“Yes, obviously. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“And you said I make a joke out of you!” Namjoon said, but he was laughing. “Okay, the point is, I’ve loved Jin for a long time, and I still love him.”
“Oh,” Jackson sighed, and nodded, starting to step back.
“No, no,” he whispered, moving his thumbs in circles on Jackson’s bare skin. “Because, for a long time I loved him, but I didn’t really like myself anymore. And then, and then you broke into my house and my phone and my head, and I can see.”
“See what?”
“You.” Jackson grinned. “What, speechless for once?” Namjoon teased.
“Shut up,” he said, and sniffled and wiped a sleeve across his face, though at the same time he couldn’t stop smiling. Namjoon laughed and pulled him into a hug. The summer wind continued to gently blow the trees around them.
#namjackjin#namjin#namjin angst#rapson#jackson wang#gotbang#gotbangtan#gotbang au#gotbang fic#namjin fic#namjin fanfic#bts fic#kpop#kpop fanfic#cute#fluff#angst#angst with fluff#au#rapson fanfic#jackson x rm#jackson x namjoon#namjoon x jin#seokjin#kim namjoon#team wang#got7#got7 fanart#park jinyoung#min yoongi
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Treat You Better - Junghope SM AU 2 (23/23)
University student Hoseok has been dating Yoongi for over a year now, and he would like to think they’re pretty happy. Things aren’t always what they seem, though, when Yoongi has eyes for another person and Jungkook just wants Hoseok to see that he deserves better than what he puts up with.
With that, we say goodbye to this au. Hobi and Jungkook making holiday plans, Tae and Namjoon cuddling on the couch, Jimin being amazing like usual. The boys are happy and all in good places and that's where they should stay. (this one may eventually get a sequel). Thank you so much everyone who enjoys these. I love you all 💜💜💜💜
#junghope#junghope au#social media au#bts social media au#bts au#jintaejoon au#jintaejoon#taejinjoon au#taejinjoon#taejin#taejin au#namjin#namjin au#vmon au#vmon#jitaegyeom au#jitaegyeom#gotbang au#gotbang#junghope2
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come back for me (v)
chapters: i. , ii. , iii. , iv. , v.
ao3 link for those who prefer
so this one is a little shorter than the others, i think?? but trying to write it while following a five-year-old means i can't be as detailed as usual or sneak in things for him to notice. i do hope i manage to do it some kind of justice, though!! and it shows off taehyung's character a bit more.
plus we get to meet yet another bts kid because i am weak, fight me. hope this makes up for the wait!! and thank you so much for the encouraging messages.
i’d also like to thank @ask-bts-stuff for letting me use nicknames they’ve come up with for two of the bts kids. they’re just so adorable omg.
v. help
taehyung likes helping people.
when he was with his friends, he would always be the first to offer his involvement when he saw them struggling or in need of another small body for whatever they had planned. it is also the reason why he would constantly be darting this way and that if his friends ever got sick, taking the remedies their parents would make to them, holding their hands when they got scared of a spider or heights.
there was one time where a girl in his kindergarten class wasn’t tall enough to reach the tub of feltip pens but refused to stand on a chair in order to get them because she was scared she’d fall off. and taehyung, not liking seeing people upset or the fact that nobody else would grab a chair in order to get the colours down for her, already distracted by their own pieces of art, dragged a chair over and clambered on top of it to grab the tub of feltip pens. he got a hug and a kiss on the cheek for his helpfulness and, if he’s honest, he didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
his helpfulness also shows when it comes to the dead. it would be a lie if he admitted to knowing he was a medium of some form in his younger years, when a large array of people he didn’t normally interact with suddenly turned up in his line of sight no matter where he was; the school, his home, the park, the supermarket. suddenly, there were people from all different races, ages and emotional states keeping him company. so he did the only thing he could; he tried to talked to them.
some of them thought he was cute and would coo, mumble or whine about it. some outright ignored him, others cried loudly upon being recognised and then there were the small group like the horrible ghost that scared him at jinyoung’s home that insulted him and sneered. and even if it was a lot for a child to take in, he never stopped putting himself out there, offering his help to people who looked like they needed it. because the reward of seeing someone happy with him made him feel happy. and nothing’s better than feeling happy, not for a five-year-old.
so that’s the reason behind where he is now, stumbling along behind the woman dressed in black, his wrist in her grip, after having offered his help because she looked really sad. really, really sad, and jinyoung wasn’t going to help her. so taehyung decided he would. and now, there’s a house in front of them, a messy garden that looks like it was neat a month ago, and he’s not sure how he got there, but he’s going to help, he’s going to get to the problem, so that’s okay.
the woman doesn’t let go of his hand when she fiddles around with a pocket in her dress that taehyung hadn’t seen before. he watches her unlock the front door, that looks old and cracked and squeaks when she pushes it open, with a key that looks old and rusted with the head of which looks like a button. she smiles at him as she guides him in first, following behind and closing the door behind her.
“yoongi!” she shouts, and the sound is a little bit on the shrill side, making taehyung jump and wince at the same time. but she turns and smiles at him again, or at least, it feels like she is. taehyung isn’t sure because she still has that veil covering her face. “I’m still very happy you offered to help me out, child, but I don’t know your name.”
taehyung blinks at her, letting his hand fall back to his side when she lets go. “you didn’t ask for my name.”
she just keeps smiling at him and tilts her head, crouching down so she’s closer to his level. and because he’s five, he doesn’t resist the urge to frown, because why is she doing that? she doesn’t need to do that. he can hear her fine from where she’s standing all the way up there. he doesn’t have hearing problems, and he doesn’t need glasses.
“well, I’m asking you now. so, what’s your name?” her voice is sweet and gentle, and taehyung doesn’t know why but it makes him feel uncomfortable.
“uh.”
the appearance of a third voice makes taehyung look to his side instead of at the woman, staring at the boy who’s older than him. he has black hair that looks like it’s only just gotten too long but he hasn’t gotten it cut yet. his fringe twitches whenever he blinks, the tips of his hair caught in his lashes. the boy’s face is impassive and blank enough that it could rival taehyung’s, possibly.
“ah, yoongi,” the woman says, standing up straight. there’s something about her voice that confuses taehyung. it’s not as sweet as when she’s talking to him. it sounds like she doesn’t want to talk to the boy even though she called for him. “I need you to help this little boy, here. he’s offered to help us.”
the boy called yoongi doesn’t look very happy about taehyung’s help, face folding into a frown. but he doesn’t say anything, which confuses the five-year-old even more. he remembers his friends always saying that if someone has something they want to say, they should say it, or trouble will come later. but instead, yoongi says nothing but waves a hand in taehyung’s direction.
“come on, kid,” he mumbles, waiting until taehyung toddles after him to turn and start walking off.
the house makes taehyung think of a fairytale, with the old furniture inside and the layout that looks nothing like jinyoung-hyung’s home or even taehyung’s old home. he wonders why the house is even here, built the way it is. because people don’t live like this any more. it’s not practical, like his mum said once. a big word he’d needed to ask what it meant. and now he likes to use it whenever he can.
yoongi leads taehyung further into the house and up some stairs. they creak under their feet just like the front door did. yoongi leads them into what taehyung thinks is his own bedroom and only feels that it he’s right when he sits down on the bed inside without a second thought. because if you were in somebody else’s bedroom, you’d wait until they gave you permission to sit. it’s only polite.
“what’s your name, kid?” yoongi asks.
“taehyung.”
yoongi nods. he shuffles back on his bed and pats the spot next to him before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall. taehyung toddles over and clambers onto the bed, sitting indian style on it and slouching his shoulders just a little. he’s tired by all the walking he’s done, and the bed feels really comfortable under him.
“why did you offer to help?”
“the lady looked really sad,” taehyung says, taking one look at yoongi’s face before ducking his head, pulling at his own fingers. “people aren’t supposed to be sad. being sad isn’t nice. and jinyoung-hyung and yugyeom-hyung didn’t want to help her. I like helping.”
yoongi doesn’t say anything but taehyung looks up after a few seconds to find the boy still watching him. he can’t tell what the older boy’s thinking and it’s making him nervous, tugging on his fingers and chewing on the corner of his bottom lip harshly. “did I do something wrong?”
“don’t do that,” yoongi says instead, reaching out to free the five-year-old’s bottom lip from between his teeth. he only sighs when taehyung takes to licking his lips instead. “you didn’t do bad, taehyung, but you shouldn’t just offer to help people you don’t know. did you meet— did you meet the lady before?”
taehyung shakes his head.
“no. so you don’t know what she’s like. she could have been a very bad person, for all you know.” yoongi raises his eyebrows when taehyung dares to look up at him, feeling something in his chest at the sheepish and embarrassed expression on the child’s face. “so you didn’t do bad, but be careful about who you offer help to, okay?”
taehyung nods. “okay.”
there’s a pause, and then yoongi gently punches taehyung’s shoulder to get his attention. it’s a weirdly friendly thing to do to someone he’s only just met. taehyung likes it. “who are jinyoung- and yugyeom-hyung?”
the five-year-old’s eyes widen and brighten as he sits up a little straighter. “jinyoung-hung is taking care of me! I-I was too much for my mum and dad, I think, so I got to live with jinyoung-hyung! and he’s so cool! he’s really, really nice and reads me a lot of stories and lets me help cook sometimes and watches all my favourite shows and movies with me!” he shifts about until he’s on his knees, leaning forward. “and yugyeom-hyung is the older brother of my best friend, seokjin-hyung!”
yoongi smiles a small smile. “best friend, huh?”
taehyung nods again, now a lot more enthusiastic. “he colours super well! and he hugs me a lot! he—” the five-year-old beams a wide, box-like grin. “he asked to be my family hyung. like a hyung that is my hyung through blood, but we don’t share blood. so he asked my permission, and I gave it to him!”
“he sounds cool.”
“he’s really cool!”
yoongi’s smile drops from his face when the lady calls his name from downstairs. taehyung watches his shoulders slump and a sigh leave his mouth. he doesn’t look sad, so taehyung is hesitant to ask something. before he can say anything, the boy shuffles to the end of the bed and gets to his feet, tugging at his jeans and shirt.
“stay here, okay? and if anyone comes in and asks why you’re here, just say you’re waiting for me, okay?”
taehyung blinks then nods. “okay!”
when yoongi disappears out the door, closing it behind him, taehyung sits patiently on the bed for a minute or so, just looking around the bedroom he’s in. it’s messy and small but there’s a lot of things in it. like posters and games, and there’s a bike leaning against one wall with a helmet hanging from the handlebars. taehyung clambers off the bed and wanders over to the bike, trying to pull it away from the wall. he lets out an ‘oof’ and pushes it back when it turns out too heavy for him.
he toddles over to the desk and pushes around the pages that litter the top of it, unable to read the hangul even if the handwriting was neater. there’s a lot of pages spread out, some together in uneven clumps. he wonders what yoongi’s writing. he hopes they’re stories. maybe he can convince yoongi to read for him, be able to hear original stories that nobody else has. or he hopes nobody else has so he can be the first. he’d like to be first.
soon, he gets bored of looking around the small room, but he refuses to leave. because yoongi asked him to stay and he likes yoongi. yoongi asked him his name and about jinyoung-hyung and seokjin-hyung. he tries his best to stay in yoongi’s room, honestly, he does. and he’s proud of himself because he pulls himself back onto the bed, letting his feet dangle, and looks back at the posters on the walls.
and it’s going well until the sound of crying filters through the door.
taehyung jumps on the spot and whirls around to stare at the door, as if it was the thing that started crying. but instead he’s staring at white paint and the crying sounds a lot like a young woman, not a door. he’s hesitant as he moves towards the door and presses a palm against it, as if he could calm her from there. he chews on his bottom lip and fidgets where he stands.
he feels bad because he’s about to open the door to try and find the woman when it slams open. he stumbles back, knocked to the floor with the force of it, and stares wide-eyed at the figure in front of him. it’s a young lady, crying and trembling.
she looks so sad that taehyung pushes himself up onto his knees and reaches his hands out for her. because hugs always make him feel better when he’s upset, so they should make her feel better when she’s upset. the lady stops her crying for a single second and then collapses in front of him and grasps him close to her chest, burying his face into the top of his head.
her sobs are loud and penetrating with how close she is to his ear and he can’t help but flinch whenever they get too loud, but otherwise he just lets her hug him tightly. she stops crying after a little while and just holds him stubbornly, refusing to let him go, so he just continues to hold her, not sure if he should speak. he thinks he might be a little scared even though he’s hugging the lady.
“taehyung, I thought I told you to stay in my room,” yoongi says when he rounds the doorway out of nowhere and stops just inside of it with a small frown.
the five-year-old blinks at him from over the lady’s shoulder. the lady stands and slinks past yoongi and out the door, not addressing him or touching him. he watches her go in confusion, arms slowly lowering to his lap. when he focuses on yoongi, the boy looks like he’s waiting for some kind of explanation, eyebrows now raised in an unamused fashion.
“well?”
“didn’t you see the lady?” taehyung asks, voice small and quiet.
yoongi’s eyebrows raise even further. he doesn’t turn his head, though, to look after the lady that just disappeared from his bedroom. “lady? did she come and see you again?”
“again?” taehyung wonders, eyes darting to the floor and tracing the wooden slats as he thinks. he doesn’t remember seeing the lady before. “has she been here before?”
the older boy stares silently at taehyung for a moment and then just shakes his head. the little medium wants to ask him what’s wrong, what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t. instead, he pushes himself to his feet and pats awkwardly at his knees.
yoongi enters the room and closes the door behind him. “okay, taehyung, I have something I need you to do, okay?” he sounds a little unsure, and taehyung wants to know why.
he nods, though, back straightening to show he’s giving his full attention. he likes yoongi.
“I want you to remember what jinyoung-hyung and seokjin-hyung look like, okay? I want you to think about what you did with them and what you like about them. can you do that for me?” the older boy is leaning a bit away from the door now, face expectant, and the five-year-old really doesn’t want to let him down.
taehyung tilts his head and chews on his tongue. “now?”
“not now.” yoongi says with a small smile. it wouldn’t show teeth if he wasn’t speaking, but taehyung takes it anyway, because it makes yoongi look nice. “but while you’re here. just do that for me, okay? just keep thinking about them sometimes.”
“okay.” he nods.
yoongi smiles a bit bigger now, eyes curving ever so slightly, too, and taehyung smiles back, box-like and wide. yoongi’s nice to him, so he’ll do as he says.
the bedroom door suddenly opens without a single knock, smacking into yoongi and causing the poor to trip forward. he narrowly misses smacking into taehyung, but moves to stand behind the boy and place a hand on his shoulder once he’s regained his balance. the woman from before, still dressed head to toe in black and still wearing a veil, stands in the doorway. taehyung thinks she’s smiling again but he doesn’t know.
“ah, there you are.” her voice is sweet. but it’s a forced sweet. a sweet taehyung’s mother used to use when she asked him to do something that she thought was too much effort. taehyung doesn’t like it much. he looks up at yoongi’s face and finds the smile from before gone. “yoongi, I need you to go to the kitchen to make lunch with beom-seok, can you do that for me?”
taehyung thinks that yoongi doesn’t look at all interested, let alone happy, about it, but he goes anyway. the five-year-old watches him go, slipping past the bulky black dress, and then turns to look at the woman again. she holds her hand out for him, and when he doesn’t take it, she just waves at him to follow.
“come with me. you want to help, right? my husband’s this way.”
in retrospect, taehyung should probably wonder what exactly a small child of his age and size could possibly do to help a woman seemingly in the prime time of adulthood with her head strapped onto her shoulders firmly. but taehyung is only that; a small child. and he likes to help. so even if he knows he can’t do anything, he’s going to offer anyway. because that’s the way he is.
the two of them walk down a hall, trot up some stairs, and then down another hall until the woman stops and opens the second door on the left slowly. taehyung doesn’t fully pay attention, too distracted by the squeaky floorboards beneath his feet and the peeling bottoms of wallpaper. he jerks his head up, tripping over his feet when the woman claps once, loudly. he thinks she’s giving him a stern look but he still doesn’t know, so he just toddles up and waits behind her.
she pokes her head in and taehyung hears her mumbling something, but he’s too busy gazing up at the mirror on the wall, now. there are a lot of things to look at in this house. and he’s behind her now, anyway, so he can look around if he wants to, right? the reflection of the crying lady is standing to one side, gazing at him, parts of her fringe damp and clinging to her lashes, her lower face hidden by a tissue he thinks she’s blowing her nose with.
he jolts out of his focused state when the woman taps him a bit too hard on the shoulder. it was more of a slap than anything, making him jump on the spot. she beckons him into the room and he enters a little reluctantly, small hand rubbing at his shoulder.
it turns out to be a normal looking bedroom, with a bed and a chest of drawers, a cupboard, a desk, bedside tables. there’s a rug beneath his feet and curtains pulled away from the window. it just looks like a normal bedroom. but not a bedroom he’d stay in, he thinks. his bedroom at home is a lot nicer. yoongi’s bedroom is a lot nicer, even if it isn’t as big. he thinks this bedroom seems pretty empty. he doesn’t like that.
“this is my husband,” the woman says. she’s standing next to the bed and gently smoothing her hand over the forehead and hair of the man lying in it. “and he’s terribly ill.”
taehyung toddles over, chewing on the inside of his cheek and swinging his arms just a little more than necessary. he stays a few feet away from the side of the bed and just looks at the man. he looks weak and pale, too pale a skin colour to be healthy for his ethnicity, and he’s shiny with sweat. taehyung feels a little ill just looking at him. he wants to take a bath.
“why’s he ill?” he asks quietly, looking up at the woman.
her hand pauses for a moment and taehyung thinks the smile isn’t there any more. if it ever was. “well, I don’t know. that’s why I was asking for help. I want help so I can figure out what’s wrong with him and how to fix it. you understand that, don’t you?”
he nods.
“good!” she jerks her hand back from the man’s forehead and then claps both of them together. the sound makes both taehyung and the man wince. “now that you’ve seen him, let’s leave him alone and talk about what’s wrong with him.”
taehyung blinks at her and wanders after her in mild confusion when she marches away from her side of the bed and towards the door. that was quick. very quick. taehyung’s no expect, he knows this, but when he goes to the doctor’s he’s usually in there for a good fifteen minutes. the doctor likes to check that he’s okay all over. he shoots a look over his shoulder at the man in the bed just before he leaves. the man catches his gaze before the door shuts behind them. he looks really sad.
“so!” the woman says, and taehyung now thinks she doesn’t sound as worried as she should be. “what’s wrong with him?”
taehyung shuffles his feet and licks his lips. “I don’t know.”
she pauses, as if she were on a video. it makes taehyung feel uncomfortable. he thinks about jinyoung, about how he held him the night before. when jinyoung comes to pick him up, he’s going to ask for a hug. “you don’t know?”
he shakes his head.
“but you said you wanted to help,” she accuses, and taehyung thinks she might be frowning at him.
“I do!” he says quickly, pushing himself up onto his toes only to fall back onto his heels a second later because the poor kid still doesn’t have balance. “but I’m not… I’m not a doctor. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
the woman sneers at him. it’s a weird sound that makes the five-year-old associate it more with an animal than a human. her veil swishes as she marches down the hall, her head held high and back straight. taehyung thinks she looks a bit weird when she yanks her skirts up and thuds down the stairs. he also thinks she might trip down them, but doesn’t hear the sound of her tumbling.
he brings his bottom lip between his teeth and turns his head to gaze at the door. it’s not locked. he could go back inside. and he does want to help them, he wants to figure out what’s wrong with her husband. that’s why he offered his help and it’s why he’s here. and she hasn’t told him he can’t go back into the room.
he stretches out a hand to the doorknob, having made up his mind, when the crying lady crashes through the door and smacks into him. he stumbles back and lands on his bottom, elbow nicking on the floor and a nasty scrape appearing as if by magic. the shock is enough for tears to only gather but not spill down his cheeks, nor for a whine to leave his throat. instead, he stares up at the crying lady.
she kneels before him and reaches out, hands cupping his cheeks. her hands feel really big on his small face. there are still tears in her eyes and on her cheeks but he doesn’t know if she knows she’s crying.
“go home.”
he just stares, the tingling sensation of his scrape no longer his main concern. her voice is soft and quiet. it’s the sound of a voice that hasn’t spoken yet in the morning after someone’s just woken up, or the voice of someone who hasn’t spoken in a long time, or the voice of someone who has been crying for a long time and only now decided to talk.
“go home,” she says again, and hair spills over her shoulders. “take my son with you.”
and then she’s gone in a soft, fading effect. the light cuts through her more and more until he’s staring at the door instead of her face. he likes her more than the ghost at jinyoung’s home. the ghost in jinyoung’s flat was very mean, but the lady just seems sad.
hesitantly, slowly, the five-year-old pushes himself up onto his feet, hands getting covered in dust from the floor. he wipes them slowly on his jeans as he toddles down the hall to the stairs. when he straightens his arm out completely to grab onto the railing, a small shock of pain zips up his arm and he makes a small noise of complaint. he pulls up his sleeve and spies the scrape along his elbow. it looks like an angry red and he thinks he can see a small bead of blood from one of the wounds.
he whimpers, bottom lip wobbling, and starts to make his way carefully down the stairs, keeping his fingers curled around his sleeve so he doesn’t get it dirty. he continues going down the stairs until he’s on the bottom floor and is looking out over the living room. he doesn’t know where the kitchen is, so he wanders aimlessly all around the living room, peeking through two out of the three doorways. thankfully, the second one leads him to the kitchen and he enters, standing stock still a few feet inside.
yoongi isn’t the one who notices him, but a man. he must be beom-seok, who the woman wanted yoongi to help make lunch with. but taehyung doesn’t look away from yoongi when beom-seok turns to stare at him. a small part of his mind tells him he should say thank you when beom-seok nudges yoongi and gets the boy to turn and finally spot taehyung.
he looks surprised, eyebrows raising again. he’s holding something, but taehyung can’t focus on what. “what’s wrong?”
the five-year-old awkwardly pulls his elbow up in a way that’ll allow yoongi to see the scrapes while he can still keep his sleeve clean. he whimpers when yoongi’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open the slightest bit. has it gotten worse?
“when did you do that? did you trip?”
“stop asking the kid stupid questions, yoongi,” beom-seok spits out, and it sounds a little harsh, even in taehyung’s shocked state, “and just put a plaster on it.”
the boy puts down whatever he’s holding and walks over to taehyung, gently turning the boy around. he doesn’t take the five-year-old’s hand to guide him, instead placing both hands on his shoulders and steering the child as if he were a trolley in a supermarket. luckily for the little medium, the bathroom he’s steered into is on the ground floor and has a toilet that he’s gently pushed towards to sit on.
yoongi opens the cupboard underneath the sink and pulls out a first aid kit. he kneels down on the floor when he opens it, neatly putting the stuff he doesn’t need in the lid as he searches. he ends up pulling out cotton balls, a disinfectant and plasters of several sizes.
“this is going to still a little,” he warns as he uncaps the disinfectant, pouring a little on a cotton ball. he reaches up to hold taheyung’s arm gently in his hand and dabs at the wound with the cotton ball. he tries to ignore the whine that follows and says the first thing he can think of to distract taehyung. “tell me about jinyoung-hyung.”
taehyung kicks his legs just a little bit and swallows thickly when yoongi cleans the largest scrape. “... well. um, he’s really nice. and— and he always makes sure I know what’s going on.” he voices goes quiet and small as he watches yoongi finish up. the skin around his scrape is now tinged yellow. “he asks me where I want to go and what I want to do every morning. I don’t know a lot, so I get surprises. he’s good at surprises.” his eyes follow yoongi’s hands as he starts picking up and comparing plaster sizes with his scrape. “he even promised me I could watch mark-hyung do his tattoos.”
the older boy’s attention drifts from the plasters in his hands to the five-year-old’s face for a moment. “who’s mark-hyung?”
“jaebum-hyung’s boyfriend.”
“ah.” yoongi gives a nod, eyes settling on the plasters once more until he finally finds one that looks like it’ll be big enough not to stick to any part of the wound. “and he does tattoos?”
“yes. they’re really cool.” taehyung nods this time, because it’s true. it’s fact, at this point. all of mark’s tattoos are really cool and pretty. even the ones that don’t have colours. “he says he can make them move, too. like magic. I want tattoos.”
yoongi laughs. it’s breathy and taehyung thinks he almost saw yoongi smile wide. “what would you get?”
“I don’t know.” the five-year-old swings his legs again, holding his arm out and bending it just slightly when yoongi shows him how. “bambam-hyung has a snake called banana. maybe I could get a snake. bambam-hyung says banana is really friendly and that I could meet her one day.”
“did he now.” yoongi peels back the plastic from the plaster and gently curls it around taehyung’s elbow, making sure the sticky parts get healthy skin. he then sets about using another cotton ball and a little bit of water to clean up any excess disinfectant poking out of the plaster so the young boy’s sleeve won’t get dirty. “you won’t be scared will you?”
“no!” taehyung shakes his head furiously. “because banana is nice and cute. she’s yellow and white, just like a banana! that’s why hyung named her banana.”
“hyung sounds very clever,” he says as he starts packing everything back into the first aid box, clipping the lid shut and sliding it into the cupboard under the sink. he sits back on his heels and looks over at the five-year-old, blinking when he realises that the boy’s sleeve is still pushed up.
“he’s super clever,” the smaller boy admits, letting yoongi reach forward and unravel his sleeve. he gently bends his arm, stopping when the plaster pinches his skin too much, and then just chooses to rest his hand in his lap. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
yoongi blinks, his own hands falling into his lap. taehyung thinks he looks surprised and confused, he doesn’t really know why. “you want me to meet bambam-hyung?”
“yes! we’re friends.” taehyung states proudly with yet another boxy grin. it’s hard to think of the boy who’d been in shock mere minutes before is now perfectly happy on top of a toilet with a plaster on his elbow. “and friends meet with their friend’s friends. that’s how you get lots of friends!”
“I see.” there’s a soft smile, and taehyung likes it. he likes it a lot. “I’m glad we’re friends, teahyung.”
“me too, gigi-hyung!”
yoongi blinks at him again, dumbfounded. then smiles a little more. it keeps growing until suddenly his gums are poking into view and it only makes taehyung grin wider himself, eyes scrunching up. he feels really happy. “come on, taetae, I think lunch might be ready.”
“food!”
taehyung jumps off the toilet and races out of the bathroom, hearing more breathy laughter behind him before footsteps follow him. they slow down when they get into the living room and spy beom-seok staring at them with a weird expression on his face. but yoongi puts his hand on taehyung’s shoulder again and taehyung still feels happy.
even if he can’t the woman’s husband, at least he has yoongi.
#mack writes#gotbang fic#got7 fic#bts fic#foster care au#cbfm#cbfm fic#bts au#got7 au#gotbang au#kim taehyung#min yoongi#i hope the length doesn' bother people too much ah
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make it right [ yugkook au ] (9/?)
yugyeom is just trying to live his life in los angeles with minimal interfering from his friends in his love life, or lack thereof. a chance encounter with an old friend might just be what he needs.
Yugyeom realizing things and Bam camping in reinforcement when Yugyeom is sad about it. also a new player in the game hmm. (sorry this is like a week late but technically it's before midnight on a Monday here)
( previous | masterlist | next [coming soon] )
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Friendly Reminder
This is an ask blog, though I can understand if it gets a little confusing. So! Here’s a little guide on how to ask :)
There are currently 3 au’s available for asks. (At this point in time not all of the characters may have been revealed but you can still ask if you want)
These au’s are:
Bewitched (or Rose):
search under/start your ask with: #magic!au
Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook are all some degree of magical person/creature. There is a story link to the fanfic that inspired this series in the #magic!au tag if you want more background.
Pet Me:
search under/start your ask with: #hybrid!au
BamBam and Jimin are both cat hybrids. Yugyeom and Jungkook are very confused cat hybrid owners. Mark and Jackson are just along for the ride. The background fanfic link is also under the #hybrid!au tag.
(More characters may be added if there is demand for them)
Everyone Wants to be a Superhero (coming soon):
superhero!au
GOT7 are all superheros in training! Fanfic link in tag if you are curious
There is also a jikook manga under #desert!au if you would like to ask those character, however they will not have introduction pages as the other au’s do.
#ask#ask blog#ask gotbang#ask got7#ask bangtan#ask bts#magic!au#hybrid!au#superhero!au#not art#plz ask me stuff#ask guide
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Jaebum x Reader [featuring GOT7 x BTS] → angel!au / demon!au Warning: violence, language, & mentions/descriptions of death
→ Masterlist (including teasers) → A/N: chapters are updated every Friday
It’s like being shot.
A pain that explodes from one spot, like a flower blooming in the heart of spring. You can feel it, a burn on the walls of your skin, prickling with a heat that can only be described as uncomfortable. It’s a wound you can’t reach, can’t touch physically with the tips of your fingers or the palm of your hand. You can only claw at it, can only gasp for the air your lungs refuse to give you.
That’s what you feel when you see her.
Because training with Mark meant training with Rose.
And when Mark said it was going to be intense, he meant it.
Unlike with Jackson, this type of training didn’t test your agility or speed. It didn’t require you to throw a punch or use your abilities at all.
What Mark needed was for you to get a handle on your emotions.
“Seeing her,” he says, circling you both, “is hard. She’s gone. This, in front of you? An illusion I can conjure. Rose is dead. Killed by Yoongi in attempt to sabotage any hope of saving mankind. He took her from you, your sister. Whether you were close or not, she was family. And Lucifer will use that to his advantage. Your greatest weakness Y/N, is your heart. You feel. You’re human. And Lucifer takes no pity on humans.”
Rose smiles then, a replica of the lost girl, and your chest constricts. Somehow, he senses it. “You must understand. This is war. A battle where victory is necessary. Losing means dying. It means the world burns and everything is gone. Like her. I need you to focus. To understand that Rose is in Hell and you can never see her again.”
You don’t say anything, haven’t said a word since you began, because you don’t think you can even form any.
She’s there, your sister, and even though it’s an illusion brought forth by Mark, you can’t help seeing her. Mark continues his track around, one hand in his suit pants, another clutching his pocket watch. His eyes are trained on you and you alone, watching your movements.
Better yet, watching the expressions crossing your face.
“I need you to talk to her,” he whispers.
A breath catches in your throat but you nod once, “Hello Rosie.”
She’s still smiling, hands clasped in front of her like she used to do when you were children and she wanted something. “Hi baby sister. What would you like to talk about today?”
Your jaw tightens, “I don’t know. I didn’t exactly plan on seeing you. What do you want to talk about?”
Mark is behind you, voice dangerously low, “She’s going to try and crack you. Pick away at what lies beneath all with a smile and a kind voice. She’s meant to test you. Hold your ground and be careful.”
Rose just keeps grinning, now rocking back on her heels every few seconds. “Mark, I have something she’ll be dying to talk about.”
He meets her gaze over your head, eyes narrowing. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest because you know.
You know what she’s about to say.
And when she does, you find yourself holding your breath in what feels like...
Fear.
“You’re in love with Jaebum, aren’t you baby sister.”
It wasn’t a question, no investigatory tone in her honeyed voice. You can feel Mark’s surprise but your focus remains on her. Fists clenching at your sides, you think of your answer, try to think of something to shift where the conversation is going, but Rose smiles. As if she’s reading your mind.
“It’s useless to deny it Y/N. I can hear your thoughts, I can see your face. That kiss last night, it would’ve been more if you weren’t so afraid. If there weren’t rules. But there’s no question. That precious heart of yours belongs to Im Jaebum. An angel. And you know that humans can’t ever be with one of God’s children. Jinyoungie has already made his mistake. Now, as we speak, he’s with Shan. His heart completely belongs to her. And do you know what happens? When an angel and a human are in love?”
“Rose,” Mark warns, suddenly on edge.
She doesn’t listen, smile more like a devilish grin, “An angel can lose his wings you know. Belonging to a human strips their abilities. Jinyoung is slowly becoming human. And that would all fine and lovely. If that transformation didn’t end up in the human dying. And poor, poor Jinyoung will be alone. He can’t ascend back to Heaven. If you love Jaebum, you too will die. A consequence of breaking the law.”
You’re listening to her, or at least you think you are, but any sound seems to be muffled within you ears.
Jinyoung is becoming human? Shan will die?
Your heart constricts and it’s painful. You turn to Mark, hoping he’d tell you it was a lie, but his expression tells you otherwise. His eyes find yours, sad as if Jinyoung was already lost completely.
“He made his choice,” he said, “he loves her and won’t leave her.”
���But what about Shanna? I’m not going to let her die!”
Rose’s voice rings out behind you, “Humans die baby sister. It’s the circle of your pathetic lives. You live. You love. And you foolishly die for matters of the heart.”
You spin to face her, “And what about you sister? You loved Jaebum, when you were alive. You loved him and knew the rules!”
She sneers, “Love is irrelevant and useless in this world. I didn’t love Jaebum. He loved me. He stood by my side and we fought demons together. He wouldn’t given up everything to stay with me. A kiss means nothing, not when we’ve had sex in the very room you’re sleeping in. Haven’t you noticed he’s never once gone in there? He never checks up on you because when he sees you sleeping there, he sees me. We have the same face. When he looks at you, he sees what he lost. He may have not known what love really was but what he felt for me was pretty damn close. You, my dear, are my replacement. If I hadn’t died, this would be my life. And you’d be living yours far away from here. No one here cares about you. You’re needed to defeat Lucifer. And if you somehow happen to live through that, you’ll be tossed aside, no longer useful.”
Your blood is boiling, the heat within you growing. You can feel it, running through you rapidly, spreading through every part of your body.
You’re angry and for the first time in your life, you want Rose gone.
She looks accomplished, not so much smug, head tilted to the side as she happily gazes at you. You try not to think about Jaebum, or the raw pain you’re experiences in the deeper crevices of your heart. You do what Mark had said. You focus your energy and hold your ground, channeling the emotions within you outward, the power you possess flying from your body and towards the illusion of your sister.
At first, it seems as if nothing had happened.
But then, she’s no longer smiling, face contorting as if in pain before a scream rips through her and she breaks apart, as if cracks in the concrete, disappearing into the air like smoke and ashes.
You call back your power, a slow descend back to hide away. You don’t want to turn around, you don’t want to look at Mark, but you do anyway.
But it’s not Mark that’s there. It’s Jaebum.
His jaw is clenching tightly as he looks at the spot where Rose just was. He looks lost and sad, eyes glazing over before meeting yours.
You can only stare at each other, space in between you both even though it feels as if you’re universes apart. He steps forward, hand reaching out to touch you, but you recoil back.
“She wasn’t lying, was she? Even if she was an illusion, everything she said was true. Jinyoung. And Shan. And...and you. You and her. And my room and...”
He closes the space between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that felt desperate, as if he was asking to understand.
You let him kiss you, let his hands roam your body as your fingers grip at the black of his hoodie. You know very well that you shouldn’t be doing this again, not with everything you had just learned and the rules still firmly in place. But his tongue pries your mouth open, his hands reaching for the bottom of your shirt, and your arms immediately go up as your clothing slides off.
His breath in hot against your neck as his lips move down, arms lifting you up and into your arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. You can feel his want for you as his hands grip at your ass, walking you out from the living room to where you’d only assume to be your room.
But it isn’t your room, it’s his, door flying open as he gets you to bed, dropping you briefly before shedding his own clothes. He’s back on you in mere seconds, your fingers grazing over the warm skin of his toned body, the body you’d dreamt about for night’s on end.
You’re both hot, temperatures rising as things quickly escalate. Your mind is hazy, no longer thinking about the consequences of what’s happening. Completely naked now, you let him have you, all of you. He peppers kisses on every inch of your skin, thrust after thrust sending you quickly to your release.
He stays by your side when it’s all over, chests rising in perfect sync as he pulls your tired body towards his.
The kiss is languid, fingers rubbing patterns between your shoulder blades. You’re coming down from your high, the feel of Jaebum against you slightly lulling you to sleep, when you remember.
You stiffen and he feels it, pulling away in concern. Seeing your posture and panicked expression, he sits up and brings you with him.
“What she had said...was technically true.”
You inhale sharply, grasping the sheet around you tighter. “So you and my sister...”
He looks up at you, “No! Well, yes. I mean...we almost. And yes. It was in your room. What was her room before. I told you that I didn’t know what true love was. I meant it. Rose was...I was infatuated. She was beautiful and strong and I was drawn to her, despite the rules. And we almost...that night. But we didn’t. I stopped her. Maybe because I knew we couldn’t or maybe because I was scared, I don’t know. But I promise, we never...not like we just did.”
“And Jinyoung and Shan?”
He runs his hands through his hair, dark pieces falling over his eyes despite pushing it back. “An angel can becoming human yes. And Jinyoung loves Shan. More than I’ve seen him love anything before. He knows what happens. And Rose is right. Humans live and they die. Jinyoung reasons that at least he can do so by Shan’s side and she by his. He knows what he’s doing and none of us can really stop him.”
“That isn’t fair to her Jaebum. She doesn’t know what Jinyoung is. She doesn’t know loving him will kill her.”
He chuckles softly, “She’s not going to burst into flames Y/N. But loving an angel has consequences, yes. And Jinyoung will have to tell her so she can make her own decision. Let them move at their own pace. We have other things we should worry about.”
“Like the fact that we just had sex and weren’t supposed to?”
“Sure, like that. Even though I meant more ‘end of the world’ type stuff.”
There’s a pause in the conversation, your next question seemingly uncomfortable. “...were you sad? To hear Rose say she never loved you?”
He sighs, “Like I said, infatuation. I knew she never loved me. We were caught up in each other but it’s like what I feel for...”
He stops, mouth clamping shut. Your brows rise in surprise and you can’t the little smile that blooms in the place of your previous frown. “For me? You feel those things for me? Why Mr. Im, how very forward of you.”
A blush spread across his cheeks and you find yourself absolutely in love with embarrassed Jaebum. “I thought we said no ‘Mr. Im’.”
You shrug, falling back onto the bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. “You thought. I never agreed Mr. Im.”
He moves to lay down, one arm propping him up as his other hand comes to grasp your hand in his. “You know, now that I think about it, I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Mind what Mr. Im?”
He grins, a little playfully, lowering to brush his still swollen lips against yours. “That. You calling Mr. Im. It’s a bit...sexy.”
You’re laughing now, back arching as a cackle sounds loudly, his face moving to bury into your neck. “You’re unbelievable. Suddenly it’s sexy.”
He shrugs, “Maybe it’s just you. Maybe I just like when you say it.”
Placing your hands on either side of his face, your eyes shine with a bit of happiness. “I think...even though there are rules and this could crash and burn...that I love you. But don’t think too much about it. Maybe if I save the world, we can ask Father to bend the law. A little.”
His happiness mirrors your own. “I think...even though yes, there are rules and this could definitely crash and burn...that I love you too. Save the world and we’ll see what happens next.”
A sudden desire rips through you the longer you look at him and you propel yourself forward because you want to kiss him so bad it hurts.
He doesn’t seem to mind, capturing your lips easily, arms wrapping around your still naked body.
He curses when your phone rings, the shrill sound breaking you out of your love daze. You kiss his cheek in apology, moving to answer it when you see Fal’s face on your screen.
“Hi Fal babe. What’s up?”
Her voice is cracked and nervous, pain evident in the tone, “Y/N?”
You sit up straighter, Jaebum’s concern evident in the look he give you.
“Fal, what’s wrong?”
A groan sounds and you can tell she’s gritting her teeth, “The baby. Something is wrong with the baby. Please...help me.”
A/N: Did I say a new update in two days @kpopfanfictrash? I lied. I meant today lol. Two chapters left whooooo.
#kpoptrashtag#g7hyungnet#got7snet#7ornevernet#the Bone Witch#TBW: Part 10#got7#bts#gotbang#got7 fanfic#bts fanfic#gotbang fanfic#angel!au#demon!au#im jaebum#mark tuan#jackson wang#park jinyoung#choi youngjae#bambam#kunpimook bhuwakul#kim yugyeom#kim seokjin#kim taehyung#kim namjoon#park jimin#min yoongi#jeon jungkook#jung hoseok
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Demon Jimin moodboard for my love @imdifferentshadesofpurple‘s fic: The Bone Witch
Chapter two is out now! Read it [here]!
#HIGHLY RECOMMEND Y'ALL READ THIS FIC#gotbang#got7#bts#got7 fic#bts fic#bangtan fic#gotbang fic#jimin#jimin moodboard#bts moodboard#bangtan moodboard#bts au#bangtan au#got7 au#jimin au#demon jimin#park jimin#park jimin moodboard
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Rivalry. Pt. 1
PART 1 | PART 2
Genre: Angst. Gang!AU.
Warnings: Mentions of blood & violence
Word Count: 1.7K
Pairings: Mark x reader x Namjoon ft GOTBANG collaboration.
Summary: You’re innocently caught in the crossfire of two of Korea’s deadliest gangs, after an argument with your gang leader boyfriend. Could you have been hurt by someone closer to home? Or has the rivalry between the two become personal? Remember not everything is as simple as black and white..
Your name: submit What is this?
God I hate you!“ you screamed. Mark strides towards you, and yells back “Good! Cause I hate you too!”. This was not how you imagined date night ending up, but you caught him eyeing up another girl at the movies and you had to cuss him out for it. It started out as you quietly but sternly telling him what you saw, and that you didn’t play games, to a rage filled argument about everything under the sun. During the 4 years of your relationship, you argued like everyone else, usually making up soon after. This argument however, would be remembered forever.
The arguing goes on for hours. Mark runs his fingers through his hair, and sighs, “Y/N you’re clearly overreacting! Like you always do!” You could feel your anger level climb, how dare he say you’re overreacting? “Are you shitting me right now? Mark I. FUCKING. SAW. YOU..” you pause as a small laugh leaves your lips, “I’m telling you facts! Just admit what you did and apologise”. Crossing your arms you take a deep breath, waiting patiently for the apology, but instead he says, “Fuck that! I’m not apologising for something i didn’t even do!..” and clenches his fist. “Well fuck you then Sǐwáng”, you reply. Mark’s eyes flicker up to meet yours immediately, he clenches his jaw and fist in anger. “I told you not to call me that.. That’s my work name.. You’ve never said it before. Don’t start now.”
You know he doesn’t like it, he has always said that.. but he was pissing you off, and the rage you felt blinded your control. You walk up to him slowly, and look him over, scoffing you say, “Work? You say that so casually! Being a trained assassin and leader of a gang is NOT work Mark!”. His nostrils flared and he steps to close the gap between you. You can feel his heavy breaths on your face, you see his eyes turn darker, you can even hear how hard his heart is beating. He doesn’t speak at all, just stares into your eyes. You can’t tell if he’s trying to intimidate you or if he’s just angry, but you are just as angry and in the mood to push his buttons.
With a chuckle, you slowly speak, “What are you gonna do huh? Pull your gun out and shoot me?..” Mark steps back, rubbing his temples in frustration, listening to you talk. “..I can get angry too you know, you think i’m just a dormouse that won’t say anything?! If you did-” He takes out his gun and aims at your head, you pause straight away and stare at the barrel. Is this psycho actually going to shoot you?
“Are you gonna let me talk now y/n?” he says harshly, you swallow hard and nod.
Mark retracts the gun, placing it back into position. He walks towards you and calmly says, “One. I would never hurt you like that. Ever. That little thing I did, was to get you to be quiet. The barrel is empty.. Two. This argument wasn’t about my job in the first place, and three. I told you on our 1st date what I did.. yet 4 years later you’re still here. Tell me y/n if i’m that bad, YOU are the one who fucks me. So what does that make you?!”. He yells the last part, and you stand there in disbelief of what you just heard. Not knowing whether to punch him or cry, you shove your house keys in your bag and head out the door. Mark squeezes his eyes shut, immediately regretting what he said but his pride stops him from calling out to you.
The cool night air is exactly what you need to calm you, the lights of the city are beautiful and you stroll down the row of shops feeling more and more content. That is until your phone rings, you look at it see Mark’s face and decline the call. He is the last person you want to talk to right now. Your phone rings a few more times, annoying the hell out of you. Taking it out of your bag to turn it off, you see a text from Mark. You roll your eyes, knowing he’ll never leave you alone and decide to reply.
You notice something in the reflection of the shop window, the same two guys you saw a street away are still following you. It would have been normal, for people to be walking behind you as the street was quite busy. However, dating a kingpin you picked up some observational skills, and these men were different. The way they paced, and how far away they were, showed they were trying to keep up with you. The way they were dressed, would seem like everyday clothes to regular people but to you, it looked as if they were trying to fit into the crowd. You could see the outline of their guns, by just glimpsing their reflections. These men were after you. You decided to turn a few corners, to confirm your beliefs and of course they followed behind. Panic was setting in; you began walking quicker, the men matching your speed, your hands shook and you didn’t dare turn around. You needed Mark, but you knew that if you called him they would shoot you on the spot, so you text instead.
Looking around you, the men have gone. There’s no sign of them, as if they were never there to begin with. You follow Mark’s instructions and keep walking, almost running. Even though your chest is tight, and you can hardly breathe, the panic is slowly fading, because you know he’ll be here soon.. You’ll be safe. You wish you could walk forever, but your body is tired so you slow down to catch your breath. As you do this, your phone pings.
The relief you feel is indescribable, you get to go home.. alive. You should have been used to this happening, being chased, having your life threatened but the truth is Mark always kept you safe, away from all of that. You turn, with a smile on your face, shielding your eyes from the blinding headlights of Mark’s car. He didn’t stop close by you to draw suspicion, so you had to walk a little to meet him. As you began to walk, your mind began to work. You thought about how this was the first time in this situation, and you never wanted to face it again. You decided that the stupid argument didn’t matter anymore. Yes you and Mark weren’t a normal couple, but you loved each other and you worked. You thought about-
BANG
BANG
Your thoughts are seized by a searing pain flowing through your body, you freeze on the spot taking in small sharp breaths, that hurt every time. People are screaming and running. You look up to see Mark running towards you, it’s the last thing you see before your body hits the ground.
Mark sits on the ground, cradling your head and body in his arms. Slowly you rotate your head, you glimpse the blurry picture of the 2 men walking away, placing their guns back in their respective holsters. You were right, they were after you. This was an ordered hit, they were sent to shoot you. You steadily blink up at your boyfriend, he is shaking and crying but reassures you in his calmest voice, “I’m sorry baby.. I’m so sorry. This is my fault.. Just stay with me ok? Someone has called for help. You’re going to be fine” his voice is a whisper, and his tears causes it to hitch. Mark feels the warm blood seep through his clothes, he looks at his hands now stained red. He’s seen blood before, that’s no surprise but this is your blood. The love of his life. He can’t handle this, this is too much.. A panic attack would have happened by now, but he has to push that to the side for you.
Your life flashes before you; your childhood, your family, your parents’ wedding day, when your sister was born, the day you met Mark, when he asked you to be his girlfriend, the day you moved in.. Everything. You smile weakly, the memories filling you with happiness.. It’s short-lived however, because the pain shocks you back to reality causing you to cough. You try to fight the call of death, but you need to get rid of this pain. As your body falls numb, you find yourself edging closer and closer to the call, realising that you have to accept this, you were going to die. Your eyes close..
Suddenly, you feel light slaps on either side of your face. You crane your eyelids open to see Mark looking down at you, face red with tears. “Stay with me ok!! Don’t you dare leave me! You can’t leave me y/n!!” he shouts. He blinks tears from his eyes and whispers, “I love you too damn much.. Please..”. You look up at him, your body failing by the second. Through blurred vision, you focus on his face.. His beautiful face.. His bright eyes, now dulled by tears.. His shiny blonde hair cascading down his face.. With the little strength you have, you croak, “Mark.. I can’t.. Hold on..” Mark shakes his head, whimpering ‘No’ repeatedly. “No, don’t say that baby.. Please” his last word is barely a whisper. Taking a jagged breath in, you speak again, “I love you so much.. More than life..”. Mark leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, “I love you too y/n. I know who did this, and I promise you they will pay with their blood. They messed with the wrong power couple”
The sounds of sirens ring through your ears, they are muffled and fuzzy. Mark turns his head to the direction of the help and says, “Jagi. The ambulance is here! It’s here! You’re going to be fine!”. He notices you’re no longer moving, your breathing is almost non-existent.. He looks to see your eyes closed, your body completely giving way in his arms. He’s about to scream, but his eyes spot something on the ground beside you. It’s a red rose.
Mark grips the rose, ripping it to shreds. Through gritted teeth and tear clouded eyes, he utters the words, “Namjoon is gonna fucking pay for this”.
- Admin Rosa
Buy Us Coffee! | K.P.P.D Merch!
A/N: Sǐwáng = death. Also, it will be a series, so don’t hound me for it. It’ll happen okay? I promise! Calm your tits.
#admin thirst#angst#mark tuan#kim namjoon#got7 angst#bts angst#got7 gang au#bts gang au#gotbang fic#gotbang angst#got7 mark fic#got7 mark tuan fic#got7 mark angst#got7 mark tuan angst#bts namjoon fic#bts namjoon angst#kpop got7 angst#kpop bts angst#black girl kpop#bts kim namjoon fic#kim namjoon angst
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Hogwarts!Gotbang Things: Slytherin Edition
🐍 Park Jinyoung and Min Yoongi , the Slytherin prefects that everyone (fears) respects. They’re much more lenient than one would think but the punishments they come up with when needed are truly evil.
🐍 Slytherin Park Jimin being far too good at charms for his own good (and bringing it up every time he needs a bit of an ego boost)
🐍 Pureblood Slytherin Bambam defying Pureblood Slytherin stereotypes
🐍 Bambam’s patronus is a green cat snake (changes to a king cobra when he enters 7th year)
🐍 Yoongi’s patronus is a peregrine falcon- Bambam regretfully loses money to his Gryffindor best friend Yugyeom after he bets that it would be a cat-
🐍 Jimin’s lynx patronus seems to be drawn to Jinyoung’s stag patronus whenever they’re practicing. Jimin thinks it’s cute. Jinyoung does not.
🐍 Jimin and Bambam sneaking out of their shared dorm room to go look for the Room of Requirement with no success. Yoongi tries not to laugh because he’s already found and practically moved into said room.
🐍 Jinyoung gets asked by Gryffindor prefect Jin to go with him to the Yule Ball during Jin’s 6th year and Jinyoung’s 4th. The entire school is in awe when they show up looking better than everyone else combined. Jackson is jealous. So is Jaebum. And Mark.
🐍 Yoongi is one of the best beaters Slytherin’s quidditch team has ever seen. He’s also pretty terrifyingly competitive.
🐍 Bambam is often found in the kitchens. He’s convinced some of the house elves to teach him how to cook.
🐍 Jimin sets himself in charge of welcoming 1st Years to the Slytherin dorms and tries to act cool to command respect. It doesn’t necessarily go according to plan, but he does have a group of younger students that wind up infatuated with him.
#gotbang#hp au#here's some thought vomit idk#if anyone has further headcanons to yell with me about be my guest#got7#bts#jimin#yoongi#jinyoung#bambam#jiminie
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Underworld | 12 | Paris
synopsis: bts versus got7 gang au warnings: language, violence, and smut word count: 5,942
[ Yoongi point of view ]
It had been a tense reunion. For once, Mina was afraid of us.
Timidly, she approached Hoseok but eventually raced into his arms, crying into his jacket with relief. He cradled her tightly, whispering in her ear that he would never let her down again. Mina cried until she was spent of tears.
Then, her attention turned to me. She came toward me cautiously, motioning for us to move out of earshot of the others, and murmured, “We need to talk, Yoongi.”
“Talk,” I huffed, folding my arms.
Mina narrowed her eyes and hissed, “You’re doing all this to make up for what you did to me?”
“Yeah, I said some sappy shit in the heat of the moment to calm you down,” I retorted, shrugging with disinterest.
Mina scoffed and replied under her breath, “I see right through you, Yoongi. For the first time in my life, you don’t have the upper hand over me.”
I uncrossed my arms and stepped forward, inching nearer to her face, and murmured, “You left me. I don’t owe you anything.”
“You owe me my heart back,” Mina snapped, brushing past me and striding to rejoin her brother.
I stiffened, clenching my fists together as I steadied myself. I couldn’t let her break me. Not now. Not ever.
We gathered our vehicles around the helicopter and entered yet another riveting debate about what to do next. Those whose opinions didn’t count for shit always did the most yelling.
“I say we take this thing and head straight to Iceland,” said Jimin anxiously. He still hadn’t recovered from his recent brush with infection.
Mina stepped forward just as Namjoon began to speak and interjected, “We’re going to Edinburgh. Not Iceland.”
“You said you would decide by the time we got to Prague,” Hoseok reminded.
The members of Seven all flinched visibly at the mere mention of that city. It was etched in blood in their minds.
“I’ve decided we’re going to Edinburgh. Strengthen ourselves there to the point we can ward off any attacks,” Mina continued, obstinate.
Jackson suggested, “After what happened here, the military may think twice about coming after you again.”
“No,” argued Namjoon sternly. “They’ll be sure to strike twice as hard next time.”
“And now they have a way to disengage us. That airborne virus took seconds to corrupt us,” Jinyoung reminded with a foul taste in his mouth.
Yugyeom spoke up, “Iceland is isolated and has its own military presence. They could ward off any attacks.”
“But Iceland could be no better than the others. They could still turn Mina into a pincushion,” said Jungkook in rebuttal.
“You have to choose between the lesser of two evils,” prompted Hoseok to his sister.
Mina exhaled slowly. Then, she turned to Mark and asked, “What do you think?”
He seemed surprised that she relied on him for an opinion. The spy had been leaning against the hull of the helicopter, listening to all and saying nothing as he always did.
“Iceland, Mina,” Mark told her. “I think if we stay on this course and something happens to another one of us, you’ll regret not having brought us to a safe haven.”
Mina blinked in surprise. After a pause, she muttered, “If I voluntarily let them study me, it would take away the possibility of them wanting to lock me away.”
Remy added, “They want a vaccine. As long as we contribute what we can, they may leave us be in return.”
Mina met the redhead’s eyes and nodded.
“They would be providing safety, shelter, sustenance for all of us,” Namjoon said. “The two of you would be paying the bill.”
Remy and Mina exchanged glances and shrugged in sync.
“Let’s go to Edinburgh first,” Mina said. “Contact them there. If they agree to let us live freely in exchange for us letting them study us for a vaccine, then maybe we can go.”
“Alright,” Jimin cheered with a clap of his hands. “Now, do we drive or fly?”
“The chopper is big enough to fit all of us, but we would have to leave a lot of gear behind,” informed Jackson after inspecting the aircraft.
Taehyung and Bambam immediately balked.
Yugyeom and Jungkook turned to clamber inside the helicopter, seeing how much room could be spared. A moment later, Jungkook crouched in the hull’s opening and called out to us, “We can’t risk too much weight.”
“How much can we get away with?” asked Namjoon.
The hackers paused with bated breath.
“Between weapons, tech, and supplies, there’s no way,” replied Yugyeom, jumping out of the chopper.
“Then, we drive,” piped Bambam.
Remy turned to Mina, simpering worriedly, and murmured, “It may be time to split up, my dear.”
Mina gawked in surprise.
“Split?” echoed Jinyoung in disbelief.
Jackson sighed and I knew in that moment he and Remy had already discussed this. Probably with Jin at the helm.
Remy faced us and said, “With Jin, we’re taking the fight to these guys. Last night, when all the shit went down, Jackson and I cleared out a safe house of theirs.”
Jackson cracked his knuckles proudly and added, “We have unfinished business with these bastards. Maybe, if you guys ultimately choose to go to Iceland, we could meet up with you there in the future.”
Remy nodded.
“And this is a good time to admit I’m not big on the Iceland idea,” said Jungkook. “I’m a driver. I need wide open spaces. An island in the middle of nowhere gives me anxiety just thinking about it.”
Youngjae scratched the back of his head and said, “Yeah, I’d rather stay someplace familiar. Like the base in Edinburgh.”
Namjoon held up his hands and everyone quieted down.
But then Bambam spoke up, “What if we go back to the house in Prague?”
And to our surprise, Taehyung agreed with him.
I didn’t want to deal with the argumentative shouting that followed. So I did as I always do; I meandered away.
To my surprise, I was followed by the last person I would have expected.
“We’re dividing,” Mark said as he and I walked aimlessly until the noise was dulled.
I shrugged. “Seems so.”
Mark put his hands in his pockets and continued, “I go where Mina goes. And she’ll go to Edinburgh.”
I stopped, turning to him, and replied, “We have to get her to Iceland, Mark. Something tells me it’s the right thing.”
“Me, too,” Mark admitted softly.
Looking away, I shifted my weight. “I know you’re the endgame too.”
“What?” Mark questioned.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re the right thing. She’ll figure it out eventually. She’s just waiting for me to fix her.”
“Then fucking fix her,” Mark hissed.
“I can’t. Only she can do that.” I sighed. “And when she does, she’ll finally be done with me.”
Mark tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “You say that like you’re okay with it.”
“I’ll be at peace about it. You love her more than I ever could.”
Mark said nothing. He studied me, searching for lies, I’m sure. Then, he nodded.
Jackson approached us a few minutes later and crowded into my face aggressively. I didn’t even flinch.
“This is goodbye for now, asshat,” he teased.
I blanked in surprise.
Mina was in tears as she bid a few farewells. When Jackson hugged her, she tightened her arms around him and refused to let go.
“Come on, kid,” he teased. “A hitter per zombie. And you’re already spoken for. Plus I have a feeling Remy wants to ride my…”
“Hey,” Mina exclaimed.
Jackson snickered and patted her head, kissing her brow affectionately.
Yugyeom and Jungkook hugged briefly, joking lightheartedly that they would meet again because they still had to have a balls to the wall high speed race across Europe to prove who was best.
“You have enough fuel for France, maybe,” Jungkook told his friend. “If you know what you’re doing, of course.”
“Of course,” Yugyeom whined, sticking out his tongue.
Namjoon turned to Remy and said, “You’re in charge of these kids. Guard them with your life. Please.”
“You have my word,” she replied sweetly.
Mina saw me returning with Mark and panicked momentarily until she could sense there was no tension between us. She faced the spy and asked, “If you want to stay here, I won’t hold it against you.”
“I go with you,” Mark replied without missing a beat.
Mina smiled warmly.
Only a few hours later, the Eiffel Tower was in sight. But Paris was grey. The color was stolen from it.
Our new helicopter descended gracefully on to the tarmac of the airport. Jimin and Yugyeom were in charge of refueling while the rest of us found a place to bunker down for the night.
While we walked, Mark and Mina were at the front, like a pair of teenagers on a date in the city of love. He had been going out of his way to make sure all things were smooth between them since he had been infected.
Discreetly, Mark brushed his knuckles against Mina’s hand until she rolled her eyes and grasped his fingers, interlacing her own through his.
“You could have stayed, Mark,” Mina murmured, looking down at his hand. “You choose me.”
“I will always choose you,” Mark replied without missing a beat.
Mina rubbed her thumb over his finger.
“Mina, one thing,” Mark started quietly.
She listened intently while Bear tongued at her swinging hand as he trotted at her hip.
“After that kiss, are we… back together?”
Mina replied, “I hadn’t thought about it, Mark. But… give me a little more time, okay? I have unfinished business.”
Mark nodded without protest, figuring she meant the virus that turned her into some form of animal.
But she meant me.
Jinyoung and Hoseok spoke quietly to each other, debating the road ahead as always. Jinyoung had refused to return to Prague, for obvious emotional reasons. He preferred to stay close to Namjoon for now. Jinyoung wasn’t used to calling the shots. He was geared for being an advisor and needed that role to keep control of himself.
Hoseok had surprisingly become a friend to him.
“I meant to ask,” Jinyoung started curiously. “Why does she call you Hobi?”
Hoseok glanced forward to see Mina at Mark’s side as she smiled at the sights around them. Despite it being doomsday, there was little to no structural damage to Paris. But it was still dead. No sign of life to be had. Even still, for someone who had never been to Paris, it was a sight to behold.
“Since she was young, she has always said I’m her hope,” Hoseok eventually answered, fighting a grin. “And she’s my joy.”
“You’ve built your life around her, haven’t you?” Jinyoung questioned gently.
Hoseok nodded shamelessly. “Yeah, and I have no regrets. She’s my baby sister and I would walk through hell and back a million times for her. So many people never have and never will know what it’s like to love someone this much.”
“You’re lucky,” Jinyoung whispered.
Hoseok nodded yet again, finally unable to keep back his smile.
Mina turned, walking backwards so she could meet her brother’s eyes, and called, “You know I have superhuman hearing, right?”
“Through hell and back, baby sis,” Hoseok replied. “Nothing has changed.”
She smiled from ear to ear and said, “I love you, big brother!”
Hoseok blew her an extravagant kiss. Mina pretended to catch it in midair and tuck it into her pocket before turning back around to take in the city of Paris.
Somber, Hoseok whispered, “Love you too, Mina.”
Mina chuckled at his belated reply, but continued on her way.
Hoseok sidestepped closer and hit Namjoon’s arm with the back of his hand. With his leader’s attention, Hoseok silently mouthed the words, “If anything happens to me…”
Then, he pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to his friend. Namjoon frowned, wanting to argue, but Hoseok shushed him, pointing at the girl with superhuman hearing ahead of them. Namjoon took the letter reluctantly, forcing it into his own pocket, and nodded his acceptance.
From my place at the back of the group, I watched it all unfold and I wanted to cry my eyes out at how far we had come and how far we still had to go.
A small hotel lay nestled in a massive collection of buildings. It was inconspicuous and that was what made us settle on it. We followed the routine – eating, washing up, and avoiding any and all conversation that involved whether we would still be alive by morning.
“City is all clear,” said Taehyung over the radio. “Get some sleep, everyone.”
“Thanks, Tae,” said Hoseok.
Mina towel dried her hair, fresh from a shower, and Bear followed her dutifully, hoping to get more food. With everyone settling down for the night, I left the room and stepped into the hallway. I planned to think for a while on my own, and eventually crept into the suite across from the others.
I needed some silence.
And I got maybe five minutes of it.
There was a knock at the door and I replied with a disgruntled, “Come in, if you must.”
Mina opened the door and shut it behind her.
It was tense, to say the least. She fiddled with her fingers and stood before me as I sat on the edge of a bed.
“I’m gonna go back to Mark,” she suddenly blurted.
I lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”
She nodded, biting her lip anxiously.
“And you stopped by to tell me – why?” I questioned, feigning indifference.
Mina pressed, “Will you let me go? Or will you fight for me?”
Shrugging, I let my hands dangle between my legs, avoiding her eyes. “I have no claim on you,” I replied.
“You don’t?”
“I don’t.”
She spat, “Liar.”
I rose to my feet and stood her down, growling, “Spit it out, Mina. What the hell do you want from me?”
She stepped closer, fixating on my eyes. “Give me something,” she whispered. “I feel so empty. Tell me I mattered to you.”
This was it. This was the moment. Either she would finally break free of me, or I could take her back. God, I wanted her for myself. It was selfish. She deserved to be happy, to be with someone who could give her the world.
But I was so damn selfish.
Inching closer, I whispered, “You matter to me.”
Mina wavered unsurely and pushed, “More.”
Her voice was my undoing, like my hollow but pretty words were hers. My fingers sought out her skin, gravitating to her hopelessly, and I imagined what it would be like to be drowned in her warmth after so long. As far as I was concerned, she was all fire and heat.
And the only thing that could melt me.
She shivered when my fingertips danced across her wrist, brushing past to take hold of her waist. The surprise flickered in her eyes and her mouth parted as a labored breath sighed through.
“Yoongi…”
I snapped.
She gasped when I pushed her back, crushing her against the wall, robbing her of a chance to inhale as I pressed my lips to hers. In an instant, her fingers were in my hair, tugging me even closer as she sucked on my tongue in her mouth.
Feeling her body pressed to mine, I felt complete again. I was whole for the first time since she’d left me. It wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t bring myself to give a damn.
I kissed her for what felt like an eternity, giving her every opportunity to push me away and retreat through the door at our side. She didn’t. Instead, she did everything in her power to keep my against her while I dominated her mouth.
Satisfied she wanted this as much as I did, I spun her around and stepped between her feet. She was already lost in me, barely catching her breath between kisses as I steered her toward the bed. I traced my fingers across her lower back, massaging before grasping the hem of her shirt and pulling it up.
She broke from my mouth long enough to rid herself of the garment and immediately collided her lips back to mine the moment she could.
The bed squeaked as we fell on it. Our hands were impatient. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she had every intention of devouring me with the way her mouth melded against mine. I pulled myself away from her kisses to find her neck, sucking a bruise in the skin and listening to her hum beneath me.
“Yoongi,” she murmured, spreading her thighs and hooking them over my hips as I targeted the weak spot over her racing pulse.
Clothes were pulled apart and discarded, strewn about the floor. She was thinner than before, it seemed, but there was far more strength in her muscles from months of braving an apocalypse.
To me, she was still the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.
I fisted my hand behind her head, her long hair wrapped around my hand, and forced her head back as I covered her neck in kisses. She groaned and let her eyes fall to the ceiling, surrendering to my need to worship her after so long.
“Please, Yoongi,” she begged as I trailed my lips across her breasts.
“Please, what?” I growled, tonguing my way down her stomach.
She swallowed roughly and the next words barely made it out of her throat, “Take me.”
“I will,” was my reply, settling between her bare thighs and giving one a bite.
Mina reached down and grabbed my hair, yanking me back to her face with considerable strength. She draped an arm across my shoulders and kissed the corner of my mouth, panting for breath as her body flushed with heat.
“Take me, Yoongi,” she whispered, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to my jaw.
I didn’t have to be told again. My hands drifted to her thighs, bending them to my waist as I pressed the head of my cock to her folds. I could feel her soaked with arousal and she felt warmer than any fire I’d ever known.
I was about to be burned alive and for someone destined for hell, I couldn’t have been happier.
Propping my fists alongside her, I pushed slowly inside of her, easing ever so gently into her heat. Her body bowed off the bed, every part of her reacting to me in the best of ways. A choked off moan fell from her lips and she sighed my name.
I had to winch my eyes closed and bite my lip with a stifled groan to keep from losing my cool.
Mina cradled my face in her hands, bringing me back to her, and rasped, “Say it. Just admit it for once, Yoongi.”
I paused and swallowed the lump in my throat. After a tense few seconds, my voice lowered and I answered, “No.”
She blinked in surprise, frozen with nothing to say.
Swallowing back my emotions (of mostly self-loathing), I asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
Her eyes fixated on me and I could see the hope die in her eyes. After a pause, Mina told me, “No. Keep going. If this is all you’ll give me, then it’s all I will take from you.”
I braced my hands beside her and shifted between her legs. Drawing my hips back slowly, I snapped them forward, driving my length into her and listening to her mewl my name.
She threw her head back and pressed her fingertips into my flesh. My name was a chant as I kept a pace that made the bed groan at every turn. Feeling her nails sinking into my skin, I grabbed her wrists and pinned them beside her head, meeting her eyes and resisting the urge to lick every drop of sweat that gathered down her neck.
“Mina,” I panted, still thrusting steadily inside her. “You’re… the only one.”
She said nothing, but she didn’t have to. I had heard the little gasp of breath she took. I listened to the way her heart thundered with mine.
And I slowed down. I took my time with her. I spent the next few hours in bliss that made me question whether I was dreaming or actually living. I brought her to the edge and shoved her off of it, hitting my own high just by the way she howled my name and tightened around me each time.
Between rounds, we lay in silence, holding each other and dazedly humming at each other’s gentle caresses and even gentler kisses.
For a night, I was whole again.
But morning always comes.
The sun was up and to my surprise, birds were chirping just outside the window. I finished redressing and checked each bullet of each weapon I carried like I always did. Every other second, I glanced at the bed.
Mina was tangled in sheets, curled in fetal position with her hands held tightly to her chest. She looked so innocent, so beautiful. And I hated myself even more.
That she could love me. Someone as damned and evil as me.
Rising to my feet, I moved to the bed, sitting on the edge at her side and tucking some of her hair behind her ear. Pressing a chaste kiss to her temple, I whispered, “Mina, wake up.”
She hummed and shifted, slowly opening her eyes. “It’s morning?” she questioned.
“Yeah,” I replied quietly. “Wake up, baby.”
She nodded and eventually sat up.
I returned to my chair and said nothing as I watched her come to, giving me a bashful smile as she held the sheets to keep herself from being exposed. Despite all that had happened overnight.
After a few resistant minutes of fighting the urge to go back to sleep, Mina willed herself to get it together and fumbled around the room gathering her clothes. Once she was dressed, I stood.
“Mina?”
She turned to me, eyes optimistic.
“You should go back to Mark.”
Any shred of peace or happiness drained from her face in an instant. “Yoongi…” she started.
There couldn’t be an argument. I couldn’t let her convince me otherwise. “I mean it, Mina. I know you love him. I keep tearing you away.”
“Yoongi,” Mina shouted, marching to me and grabbing my collar. “Are you really saying this to me after last night?”
“Yes,” I answered after pushing her hand off me.
She recoiled. “After everything we said and did last night.”
“Especially after last night,” I sighed.
Mina shook her head vehemently. “I knew it. I fucking knew it all along. I was always just a victory to you. Something to win.”
I groaned, “Mina…”
Something broke in her and she cried out, “No, Yoongi. If you do this, I will never forgive you as long as I live.”
I kept calm, no matter how much my heart was shredding at the seams, as I said, “I can live with that. I can’t live with myself if I take away a better life for you.”
“You’re so full of shit, Yoongi,” Mina growled. “You expect me to believe that? Why can’t you just admit you don’t love me? You never loved me!”
And then I broke. Stomping toward her, I shouted at the top of my lungs, “I love you more than myself! I love you more than life. But it doesn’t count for anything! Don’t you get it, Mina? My love is nothing. It’s not worth anything.”
She shivered and her face tensed with approaching tears.
“I’m broken. I’m dead. I can’t give you what you deserve. I’m so fucked up. I would ruin you. I would break you to be just like me,” my voice strained with emotion. I had never let myself get this vulnerable before and I regretted it in an instant.
“I gave you everything, Yoongi,” Mina sobbed. “I gave you everything I had. I have nothing left.”
“I know. And I gave you nothing back. That’s all I am. I don’t have anything to give you,” I explained.
Mina shook her head, resistant to the end.
I asserted, “You want my heart. I don’t have one. You want my trust. I don’t have that either. The reality I live every day took those things from me. I thought I could change. I loved you enough. I tried so hard. But I’m hollow.”
She blinked through tears.
Somber, I continued softly, “You filled the void for me. You saved me. But I damage you. I can’t be selfish anymore. I can’t let you do that.”
She shifted her weight and said, “Maybe I’m broken too. Maybe we healed each other. But how could you over and over hurt me like this?”
“Because I don’t know any differently,” was my bullshit answer.
In a heartbeat, Mina turned from hurt to angry and snapped, “If that’s really what you think, you’re not the person I thought you were. You never have been. I’ve been lying to myself. But I think you’re lying to me. I think you’re manipulating me.”
I shrugged and lied, “I don’t care.”
That destroyed her.
“Don’t do this to me,” she cried, beating her fists on my chest. “Don’t make me hate you.”
I blinked and said nothing.
Devastated, Mina screamed, “Do you hear me – I hate you!”
There was a grave silence and when I finally found my resolve again, I murmured, “I’ll survive.”
Mina flinched like she had been shot and turned away from me, hiding her face in her hands and barreling out the door. She passed by Namjoon on the way, who was quick to say, “Look I covered for you guys, but don’t think the others don’t know what was going on.”
She ignored him and went on her way, sprinting to the stairs and not slowing down until she was outside. Bear bounded behind her, oblivious to Mina’s state.
“Hey, baby sis, we were just,” Hoseok started, but then he saw her face. “What the hell happened?”
Mina didn’t answer and ducked into an alley along the hotel, pressing her back to the wall and sobbing into her palms.
“Whoa, whoa,” Hoseok chanted, coming alongside her and trying to pry her hands from her face. “Mina, talk to me.”
She finally revealed her flushed cheeks and swollen eyes before saying, “I screwed up.”
“What happened?”
She paused, pensive, and sniffed harshly. Then, replied, “I slept with Yoongi.”
“Oh.”
Mina nodded and let herself slide until she sat on the ground, choking, “You know, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.”
“More or less,” Hoseok quipped as he joined her on the street.
“He told me to go back to Mark.”
Hoseok sighed. “Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know anymore,” Mina groaned with a shake of her head. “Mark is…”
When she didn’t answer, Hoseok prompted, “Mina?”
“Mark is perfect. He really is. Yoongi and I - we’re damaged. In many ways, we are the same.”
Hoseok didn’t like that and he was quick to point out, “You’re not damaged, Mina. You’ve been through a lot, that’s all.”
“Why does this hurt so much? Why is it happening like this?” she cried, rubbing at her cheeks.
Hoseok calmly explained, “He’s doing to you what you’re doing to Mark. Pushing the love of your life away because you don’t feel worthy of them. Did you ever think of that?”
Mina choked on a sob and whimpered, “Yoongi told me he didn’t care. He said those words to me.”
Her brother gently dabbed at her tears with his sleeves and crooned, “When someone says they don’t care, it’s their last attempt at protecting themselves. He doesn’t want you to know how terrified he is of what you mean to him.”
Mina jumped up and paced, rasping, “I can’t do this again.”
Hoseok stood by her as always, following her every step. “Alright, calm down. Take a breath.”
“I can’t see,” Mina panicked.
Hoseok reached for her and enveloped her in his arms, stroking her back tenderly. He coaxed, “Because you’re crying your eyes out. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”
Mina held him tightly, hands shaking. She blinked rapidly, clearing her vision, waiting for the heat and the clarity to return to her.
A deadly silence wrapped around her. Her ears pounded and her sight pulsated. Something distant reached her senses. It was coming closer and closer with every passing second.
“Someone’s here,” she whispered.
We had been preparing to leave, loading up the cars. Little did we know our signal was jammed. Someone was breaking the frequency. The hackers were desperately trying to warn us, but their calls weren’t getting through.
Mina noticed a presence in the distant building two seconds before the first shot fired.
The bullet pierced Jinyoung’s shoulder and he dropped to the ground out of sheer instinct. The rest of us froze in surprise before the hail of shots began.
“Hoseok,” Mina screamed, grabbing his arms desperately.
Her brother shoved her against the wall, into the small crevice the alley offered. Their eyes were on us as we gathered on the small street, dodging bullets as a pair of ATV’s roared in.
The sniper fired again, this time having less luck as we finally regained enough of our senses to scatter and fight back.
“Mina, for the love of god, hide here until it’s over. I swear,” Hoseok warned, pinching her elbows in his grasp as he waited for her to agree.
Mina nodded her assent. Hoseok kissed her forehead before racing to join us.
Bear barked his head off, gathering at Mina’s feet and snarling his threats to any who would come near. Mina panted, eyes searching for each of us with her faded heat sensing.
The sniper continued to pin us down, firing from his lofty perch in the building at the end of the road. The ATV’s circled back, firing their machine guns into whatever we had managed to hide behind. I used a dumpster as cover, propping my rifle on the edge and shooting at the sniper.
Mark dragged Jinyoung to safety, pressing his hands to the wound to stop the bleeding.
“It’s just your shoulder. You’re fine,” Mark assured him, gun held in his free hand to ward off any problems.
Mina crept to the edge of the wall, peering out to get a view of the nearby building, where presumably the sniper was lying in a vantage. Mina turned, seeing the force of bullets raining down on her brothers, and she had enough.
She murmured an apology to her brother that he could not hear, before leaving the alley behind.
Mina sprinted down the bare street. Bear galloped behind her, tail wagging with excitement. The infected girl reached the building, seeing the shape of someone firing the rifle nearly a dozen floors up. She headed for the stairs and began the climb.
I fired again, turning my attention to the ATVs. Namjoon scampered to a nearby car, using it for cover as the duo of vehicles circled back. He pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it.
The first car exploded, bursting into the flames, and the next promptly collided into it.
Namjoon, Jimin, and I fired until our guns clicked for a reload into the second vehicle. Hoseok sidestepped around our truck, firing at one soldier still moving.
“Hoseok,” I screamed, seeing his position.
The sniped fired. The first bullet struck Hoseok in the chest.
For a moment, my brother wavered on his feet, glancing down to see the wound. The second bullet to his heart sent him to the ground.
Mina burst through the door, sprinting with all of her might and colliding with the sniper, rolling across the ground as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He managed to draw a knife from his thigh, raking it in her direction.
Bear didn’t appreciate that and leapt atop the man as Mina lay wedged beneath him, with the intent of chewing out the sniper’s eyes for daring to hurt his alpha.
Meanwhile, Mina brought her jaws to the man’s neck and bit into his flesh, tearing herself away before his blood could fill her mouth. She watched him contort in agony, screaming and garbling through foreign words. Then, he stilled.
Mina dismantled the gun, leaving it in shards, and didn’t blink at the crimson staining her fingers.
My hands were covered in blood as I pressed them to Hoseok’s chest.
“Hoseok, you can’t fucking die. Do you hear me?” I screamed at him, holding his face as he coughed through his last few breaths.
He squinted up at me, nearly blinded as he drifted near the end. “Tell her,” he managed to wheeze, blood rolling down from the corner of his mouth.
“I will.”
“Tell her…”
“Hoseok, you have to hold on,” I urged. “You have to let her say goodbye. You have to stay a little longer. Don’t do that to her. She’ll die without you. You are her everything.”
He smiled. At peace. In his last moment, I had reminded him how much Mina loved him. And that was enough.
Then he was gone.
Less than a minute had passed when I heard her steps behind me. She had been running, sprinting, clawing her way to him. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.
“Hobi?” she whimpered, dropping to her knees at my side. She reached out, hands on his chest, searching for a sign of life. She patted his face, like she was trying to wake him.
Tears clouded my vision.
“Fucking do something,” she shouted, bracing her fists on his sternum and beginning to press. She was trying to pump his heart back to life.
“He’s gone, Mina,” I murmured.
“No,” she snapped, shoving at his chest roughly.
It dawned on her. He wasn’t waking up. He wouldn’t breathe anymore. That steady heartbeat would never resound in her ears again as long as she lived.
She screamed. She cried. She begged to whatever gods could hear her.
Dropping to the ground, she tucked herself in the space between his outstretched arm and his side, resting her head on his chest. She tightened into fetal position, shaking uncontrollably as she drowned in physical pain from emotional grief.
Staggering to her feet, she walked away, raking her hands through her hair. She shook her head, murmuring, “No,” over and over in a low-spoken chant. Tears gathered in her eyes and streamed down her face.
“God damn it,” she screamed to the winds.
Mina dropped to her knees, hands on her waist as she struggled to breathe, hyperventilating, suffocating.
Namjoon was the only one brave enough to approach her.
I learned that day what a difference there was between crying and sobbing. Mina was sobbing. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She was gasping for air and screaming and shouting. There weren’t words to describe the heartbreak she felt. I was amazed she lasted as long as she did. I thought at any moment she would collapse.
Eventually she did. Namjoon lowered to his knees, keeping her cradled to his chest. After another minute, she went limp against him and he gathered her in his grasp like she was weightless.
I glanced down at Hoseok’s pale face and let the tears flow freely as I whispered, “I’m sorry, brother. I’m so sorry.”
Story Page: Underworld
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@taeguboi’s BTS HC Masterlist
Update on 06.06.2021
I no longer take requests! But please feel free to drop me an ask with a #bts thought and I’ll have a chat with you about it :)
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SHIPS:
Jikook [announcing their relationship]
Jikook
Jungkook x Noona
BTS x GOT7 Friend-Ship Pairings (potential gotbang friendships)
BTS x GOT7 Ship Pairings (imagines of gotbang relationships)
My Favourite V and J-Hope ships! [some of them anyway]: VMin, Taegi, 2Seok, JiHope and VHope
BTS x Other Male Idols pt 1 -- Rap Monster, Suga, Jimin and V
BTS x Other Male Idols pt 2 coming soon
FICTION:
PAPER HEARTS -- kind of a JinKook hc set years from now
Falling For Only You -- VHope falling for the same girl
Tears Don’t Fall -- V x reader angst
Soulmate!AU Concept HC
BTS as...:
badboy!BTS -- BTS bad boy au hcs
Fuckboi!BTS -- BTS members as fuck boys
Punk!BTS -- BTS as punks
BTS as a family
BTS as boyfriends
BTS as rock music fans
Other scenarios:
BTS... in the bedroom: SMUT
BTS from Friends to Lovers
BTS comfort about weight gain
Secret relationship
BTS x you in lockdown [ stay safe guys x ]
Late Night Talks
#bts hc#bts headcanons#bts headcanon#kpop#kpop headcanons#kpop hc#bts#bangtan#beyond the scene#bangtan sonyeondan#bangtan boys#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fiction#bts fan fic#bts fan fiction#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff
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the best i can { NAMSEOK AU 1 } (25/25)
Namjoon and Yoongi move their little tattoo parlor from Daegu to Seoul, bringing with it the staff that has become like a family from the tattoo artists, to the piercers, and even the receptionist JB that seems to somehow know everything that goes on. Across the street is Serendipity Health Center with its fitness rooms, dance studios, yoga studios, indoor track, indoor pool, and juice bar - bringing with it Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jin who have been friends for years now. (Side Pairings: Taejin, Yoonkook, Jimin/???)
This is it. The last one. Everyone is happy and in good relationships. Joon and Hobi are moving in together. Everything is good for these boys despite the bumps along the way.
#namseok#namseok au#social media au#bts social media au#bts au#taejin#taejin au#yoonkook#yoonkook au#markbum au#markbum#gotbang au#gotbang#namseok1
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come back for me (iv)
chapters: i. , ii. , iii. , iv. , v.
ao3 link for those who prefer
ah, i'm sorry this took so long!! visiting unis and their cities is a lot more draining than you think it is. and i'm also sorry this chapter is a little shorter than the others but there's a reason for that!! i have an idea about the next chapter that will hopefully make up for this one's length... and it also introduces on of my biases so. soon i'll have two biases in this story to play around with lmao.
i hope you enjoy!!
iv. lost
everything considered, taehyung feels very icky right now.
he’s made a new friend, though, and even been taken to seokjin’s room — he has a bunkbed! it’s so cool! — to look at all the books and toys he has that he decided wouldn’t be taken to the living room. and the toys are all cool, taehyung loves every single one of them. he’s not jealous, because there’s a lot here and he feels just a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things at his fingertips. figuratively. because they’re still seokjin’s.
after telling taehyung that he can sleep in the bottom bunk tonight if he wants — because seokjin takes turns sleeping in both bunks, and right now it’s the week of sleeping in the top bunk. taehyung doesn’t question it, because it makes sense. if he had two beds, he’d take turns sleeping in each of them — they grab a colouring book each after much deliberation and make two trips each to bring down to the living room every single one of seokjin’s colours. he has a lot, taehyung sees. he has feltip pens, and crayons, and pencils, and paints. but they don’t bring the paints down, because seokjin says that you can see them on the other side of the page and it ruins in the picture on the other side.
and now, taehyung is sitting on the floor, shoulders slumped and hand holding a half-scrunched up tissue, just watching seokjin as the six-year-old purses his lips in concentration, making sure every mark of the pink coloured pencil stays within the lines. he thinks his mouth might be hanging open a little as he just stares, because seokjin looks up and takes his tissue from his hand to wipe at his chin.
“don’t drool,” seokjin says, scrunching up the tissue in his little hand and then clumsily wiping at taehyung’s nose, too, for good measure. “you need to swallow drool. staying highd— hid— water is important, taehyungie.”
taehyung blinks but obediently closes his mouth, trying to take the tissue from seokjin so he can stuff it in his pocket where he’s keeping all the tissues he’s been using, but his new friend is stubborn. “okay, hyung.”
“give me all your tissues,” seokjin says.
he then reaches for taehyung’s pocket at the same time the five-year-old does, pulling out any tissues he can reach. two minutes later, seokjin has toddled to the kitchen with snotty tissues in his hands to dump them in the bin and returned with a whole kitchen roll that he had to stand on his tiptoes and almost scale the kitchen to get.
seokjin resumes his colouring after he sits down and gives taehyung the kitchen roll, who feels very content to just sit there, sniffling every few minutes, cuddling the kitchen roll to his chest. the older boy doesn’t take much notice until he’s finished colouring two more petals of the flower carefully, not a single bit of colour outside of the lines.
the six-year-old blinks. “are you not going to colour in?”
taehyung blinks, too, and looks down at the colouring book he’d picked out as if he’s seeing it for the first time. “um.”
seokjin grabs an orange pencil and holds it out to taehyung. when he gets more of a blank stare, he insists by giving his little fist a small shake. “you’re orange. you should take it.”
“I’m orange?”
the older boy nods. “you look like orange to me. happy and warm.”
taehyung doesn’t say anything when he unwraps one of his arms from the kitchen roll so he can take the orange pencil, looking from it to back up at his new friend’s face. seokjin looks very proud of himself, a triumphant smile on his face, and grabs the pink pencil once more to finish his flower. taehyung watches him again, focusing on how the pink never really strays from the black lines and all he can think is that seokjin must have had a lot of practice.
his attention is slowly drawn from his friend’s colouring to the pencil in his own small fist, and something like determination grows in him. he shuffles closer to his colouring book and opens it gently. it isn’t his book, so he needs to be careful. it’s seokjin’s book, and seokjin wouldn’t want him to bend any of the pages. he likes seokjin, so he likes seokjin’s stuff.
there are a few pictures that have already been coloured in, and they range from very neat to a little messier, but taehyung is sure that the practice has paid off. because seokjin is very good now. he finds a picture of three children happily dancing together and decides that the girl’s hair is going to be orange after much deliberation. cuddling with the kitchen roll proves to be hard as he goes a little outside of the lines so he very gently places it next to him.
the two boys sit in silence as they colour. taehyung takes longer than seokjin does, if only because he’s very careful with which colours he wants to pick out and put where. colouring is hard, when you’re trying to be neat and follow in your friend’s footsteps. but he tries his best, chewing gently on his tongue and trapping his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration as he goes. when the two of them finish, seokjin’s is still neater than taehyung’s, but the six-year-old gasps when he spies taehyung’s.
“that one looks like me!” he whisper-yells, pointing a chubby finger at the boy on the right.
taehyung smiles shyly, because he may or may not have coloured the boy in to look like seokjin, even going so far as to crudely draw the anchor his friend has on his t-shirt. “it is you.”
“and this one’s you!” seokjin says, pointing to the other boy in the picture. he looks at taehyung with a wide grin and wraps his arms around his friend. “this is so cool!”
taehyung beams, smile turning box-like and scrunching his eyes up. seokjin smiles back until he notices the five-year-old’s nose running and tuts, grabbing the kitchen roll clumsily and patting at taehyung’s nose with maybe a little more force than was necessary, but at six years, he still hasn’t quite learned what smooth is.
when seokjin has set the scrunched up bit of kitchen roll aside, he notices the girl in the picture and jabs a finger at her. “who’s that?”
“I don’t know,” taehyung says, staring down at the girl with his friend. he shrugs jerkily, reaching for his kitchen roll and hugging it to his chest once more. “but— but I made her orange.”
his new friend nods sagely. “she does look happy. you even made her cheeks red!”
he gets another hug for his attention to detail and taehyung is beginning to think that maybe his own cheeks are starting to turn a little red. but instead, he manages to convince seokjin to colour one more drawing — a drawing that taehyung is going to pick out — while he watches from the sidelines contentedly. and it’s all going smoothly, the five-year-old flicking carefully through both books they’ve brought down to try and find something for seokjin to colour in when he comes across the portrait of a family.
there’s a mother and a father with two sons, huddling together with big smiles on their faces as they just fit in the drawn frame. it’s been designed to look like it’s hanging on a wall, with a hideous wallpaper print behind it. but taehyung focuses on the way the parents are leaning against each other, happily cuddling a child close each.
before he knows what’s happening, his face has scrunched up and he’s trying very hard not to cry loudly.
seokjin, for his credit, looks alarmed at the sight of his new friend crying on the living room floor. he pushes his colours out the way to get closer to taehyung and gently tugs on his shoulder. “taehyungie?”
the five-year-old stubbornly keeps his head bowed but his shoulders are shaking. his whole body’s trembling and he doesn’t really know that seokjin has left, running into the kitchen to try and find the adults until there’s a large hand on his back — way too big to be seokjin’s — and the colouring book is being gently eased out of his grip.
“hey,” jinyoung says softly, and he’s sitting next to taehyung. he’s rubbing up and down the kid’s back and it looks like he’s trying to see his face. “taehyung-ah, what’s wrong?”
taehyung continues to stubbornly not look at jinyoung’s face, but this time shakes his head and tries to curl himself up in a ball. and jinyoung lets him. the hand doesn’t stop rubbing at his back, and it’s soothing and somehow just ends up making taehyung feel worse until he lets out the first sob of the night. it startles seokjin, who taehyung can hear talking to yugyeom a little bit away, but jinyoung doesn’t say anything. instead, he pulls the small boy into his lap and cuddles him close to his chest.
taehyung’s not really sure why people are stubborn when they’re crying and someone’s finally holding them. or, you know, making an effort to cheer them up in general. he had quite a few friends when he was still at home that yelled when they cried because they didn’t want people to see them like that. he’s always thought it was stupid. and he reasons with himself that the only reason he didn’t want seokjin and jinyoung to see him earlier was because he thought he could not burst into tears. apparently he was wrong.
the small medium turns his head and fists jinyoung’s shirt after wrapping his arms around his neck. there’s a hand cradling the back of his head and an arm around his waist and he feels tiny. he feels tiny and safe and doesn’t care that he’s crying any more. because jinyoung is murmuring to him quietly and he’s not asking what’s scared taehyung into crying any more, instead he’s just telling him that it’s okay, everything’s fine, hyungie’s here and so is yugyeomie and seokjinie, you’re safe, we’ve all got you, just let it out.
as a five-year-old, he doesn’t really have a good grasp on how time works yet, so when it feels like he’s been crying for forever, he thinks he’s been crying for forever. his nose is in a weird state of running too much and blocked so heavily that the bridge between his eyes hurts and threatens to give him a headache. but he slowly pulls back and sits, slumped, in jinyoung’s lap while the dream weaver gently cleans his face with kitchen roll.
“are you okay, taehyung?” jinyoung asks softly, one hand cupping the boy’s chin so he doesn’t turn his head away as he gently pinches his nose with kitchen roll. “blow.”
taehyung blows as hard as he can and waits until his nose and upper lip are snot free to speak. “I miss mummy and daddy.”
the five-year-old timidly chews on his tongue when he spies the conflicted emotions running over jinyoung’s face. and he feels bad. he feels bad because jinyoung has been real nice to him since he’s been here, and he’s made everything fun and he’s now got new friends! he has new friends because of jinyoung. and he’s managed to sleep when he’s scared because of jinyoung. so he feels bad, because he thinks saying something like that makes him seem like he doesn’t appreciate jinyoung. which he does.
“I see,” jinyoung says, and he looks sad. he looks sad and taehyung panics, because this is his fault. it’s his fault for missing family—
“I-I don’t love them!” he says quickly, and if his throat wasn’t sore and his nose blocked, he’s sure that he would probably have shouted. jinyoung looks confused now, and taehyung brings his hands away from where they’d fisted the back of the adult’s shirt to tug at his own fingers. “I mean… I miss them! I don’t…”
the dream weaver holds his sides gently and gives him a squeeze. “hey. hey, taehyung-ah.” he doesn’t say anything else, and the five-year-old feels even guiltier when he locks eyes with his foster dad. “it’s okay to miss your family, alright? and it’s okay not to love them. or to love them. or to not miss them. it’s alright. don’t feel like you should be doing anything, okay?”
taehyung chews on his bottom lip and curls one hand around two of his fingers uncertainly. he gives a small, jerky nod, and he must not look relieved at all because jinyoung hugs him close again. the hand on his back returns and he shuffles until he can lean press himself against the man, making himself as small as possible.
seokjin slowly walks over and walks around the two until he can sit on the floor of the side that taehyung’s facing. the five-year-old says nothing, just sniffs, and takes his friend’s hand when it’s offered. the six-year-old has to shuffle closer on his bottom until his little knees are pressing against jinyoung’s thigh, but he refuses to let go. the grip on taehyung’s hand almost hurts, but he doesn’t let go, either. this is the first friend that has seen him cry and stayed with him through it. seokjin went and got jinyoung.
“taehyungie,” seokjin says quietly, and taehyung blinks. “we can be family, right?”
taehyung blinks again. “huh?”
“we can be brothers,” seokjin says, and he says it with more confidence this time, going so far as to nod and shake their joined hands. “you can be my little brother and I can be your older brother.”
the five-year-old stares, eyes wide. he looks down at their hands, then back up at seokjin’s face. “but— but you’re hyung. already.”
the other boy nods fiercely. “I can be family hyung, right? I want to be family hyung.”
“family hyung…”
jinyoung’s grip on taehyung has loosened enough for him to have his arms looped lazily around the small boy, back resting against the sofa. he’s watching the two of them closely, taehyung finds out, when he turns his head to look at the adult. he sees nothing other than an incredibly soft smile on jinyoung’s face.
so he turns back to seokjin with a smile of his own, pushing on jinyoung’s chest so he can sit up straight. “you can be family hyung.”
seokjin beams at him and eagerly accepts the hug taehyung gives him.
although for the rest of the day taehyung doesn’t smile as much as he usually does, and there’s this uncertain air around the five-year-old that has jinyoung wondering whether taehyung knows or suspects that his parents don’t want him or not, seokjin doesn’t let go of his hand for as long as he can, doing whatever they’re doing, and it makes jinyoung’s heart feel heavy in his chest and so very present in his body he’s amazed he doesn’t have a bruise. the six-year-old has taken such a quick liking to taehyung, making an effort to ask taehyung for his opinion before they do anything and telling silly jokes that only the two kids find funny.
it continues on until yugyeom and jinyoung have to put the two youngsters to bed, making sure they brush their teeth properly and get changed without too many distractions. which is still amazing, even with a sick and down taehyung. with a promise of sleeping after being read a bedtime story, jinyoung and yugyeom close the bathroom door behind them and wander over to the kitchen.
“so,” yugyeom starts, pulling the fridge open and letting his eyes roam over the items on the shelves as if he’d never seen the inside of his own fridge before. “what’s consuming your every thought this time?”
jinyoung freezes where he’s leaning against the counter, blinking once in the direction of his youngest friend. “excuse me?”
the other waves a hand at him lazily. “you have that look on your face that you only get when you’re getting too far stuck in your own head.” yugyeom sends a look over his shoulder. “you in the mood for some wine?”
jinyoung stares, lips parted and mouth ever so slightly open before he shrugs exaggeratedly and rubs at his face. “yeah, wine would be good.”
the two of them stand in silence as yugyeom pulls an already opened bottle of red wine out of the fridge and two wine glasses from a cupboard off to the side, close to the sink. jinyoung takes the glass offered to him moments later and nurses it close to his chest, eyes unfocused while staring aimlessly at the handle of a lower cupboard. or, at least, he had been staring at it until his mind started wandering down path after path.
a hand on his shoulder makes his jump, wine dangerously close to sloshing over the rim of his glass and staining his shirt. staring at yugyeom’s face, the first thing he notices is the already redder tint to the man’s lips that give away the mouthful of wine he’s already had. yugyeom says, “let’s sit in the living room, yeah?”
jinyoung nods and doesn’t comment on yugyeom swiping the bottle before they leave the kitchen.
he sinks down on the sofa, letting himself slide down until he’s slouching and dangerously close to spilling his red wine all over himself. he must look distraught, because for once yugyeom says nothing nor takes his wine away from him, just sits a foot away and leans back, taking another mouthful himself.
and jinyoung’s thinking about taehyung, and how horrible it must be to be five and see ghosts but not be able to talk to his parents about it. he’s thinking about telling taehyung that his parents don’t want him anymore, and he can feel the anxiety start to rise in his chest, clawing slowly at his throat and sucking every bit of moisture out of his mouth. a childish part of him doesn’t want to have to tell him, would much rather keep his mouth shut on the topic.
and then, jinyoung’s thinking about telling this to yugyeom; about expressing his problems to the young witch while the two of them are lounging on the sofa, with red wine in glasses and stains on their lips. he snorts. he snorts again when yugyeom looks over and laughs quietly, lazily, into his hand as he rubs his face yet again.
“you okay, hyung?” yugyeom mutters.
cupping his own cheek, jinyoung traces the outline of his friend’s tv with his eyes. “I will be. I guess.”
“you know,” the taller of the two says and he shifts his position so he can face jinyoung better, “it was going to be hard no matter what. foster care. and you knew that.”
“I knew that,” jinyoung repeats distractedly into his wine glass.
“we talked a lot about it, do you remember? those times you didn’t think you could do it because of what that meant telling the child. and it’s not an easy thing to do.” yugyeom shuffles closer until his knee is pressing into jinyoung’s outer thigh, and it’s unusually comforting. “nobody finds it easy to tell a child why they’re not with their biological parents. but it’s not like you raising them is going to make it worse.”
the dream weaver stares at his friend’s face deeply, lips pursed around glass. he parts them enough to take a small mouthful and then pushes himself up to sit properly. he swallows and rests his hands in his lap, eyes now on the burgundy of the alcohol.
“hyung,” the hedge witch murmurs, tilting his head a little. “you took me in when I first came here, remember? you practically raised me—”
“everyone else pitched in, too,” jinyoung interrupts.
“bammie’s my age, jaebum wasn’t in the picture for a few years, and youngjae kept popping in and out.” yugyeom pokes jinyoung’s arm, and keeps poking until the two of them lock eyes. “you and mark were the only two who were a complete and utter constant that acted like any kind of parental figure for me for years. and even then, mark wasn’t very sure, and he was easily persuaded by jackson.”
jinyoung’s voice is small when he says, “jackson means well.”
the other nods. “yeah, he does. he always means well. but that doesn’t always make for a good growing up environment, does it?”
“what are you getting at, yugyeom.”
the younger witch doesn’t comment on the exhaustion that’s crept into his voice, and it’s a nice move, really, it is. because jinyoung doesn’t think he’d be able to try and pretend that today hasn’t drained a lot of his stored up energy. instead, there are fingers combing through his hair gently, pads of fingers and edges of nails scratching gently at his scalp and he feels his eyes close without consent. but he trusts yugyeom, so it’s okay.
“I’m me mostly from what you did in the last few years,” yugyeom continues, and he’s speaking quietly, murmuring really. jinyoung can feel his warm breath on his cheek and his body relaxes further. “you helped me accept that having differing opinions from your parents is okay, that growing up sometimes meant fucking up, and that not every mistake is as big as we make them out to be.”
“is that all I’m good for,” jinyoung snorts, a small curl to his lips, “life lessons?”
the fingers in his hair move until they’re accompanied by a palm and suddenly yugyeom’s cupping the back of his head gently. “among other things, but that’s your main job.”
jinyoung grins and slaps his friend’s thigh, letting his hand rest there and follow the curve of it afterwards. the two sit in silence like that, the dream weaver with his eyes still closed and yugyeom most probably tracing jinyoung’s profile as he is want to do with all his friends in close proximity. the wine in the glasses is topped up whenever it’s running low and positions are changed until by the end of the night, the bottle is empty except for an inch of burgundy liquid and the two witches are curled up together on one end of the sofa, unconscious.
in order to be fair, we have to say that it is rather difficult to identify what is normal. for a lot of people, normal would be going to work at an office, or a university, or in a coffee shop. normal would be aching feet after being on them all day, or finally sitting down to a lunch they’ve been waiting for every day that week. and for some of those people, normal is routine, and for some of those people, normal is getting on a plane every other week to explore a new country or new city of the same country.
for a smaller group of people, normal is pets that see into other dimensions, taking care of plants that talk or play with children, suddenly finding a grimoire that most certainly isn’t there’s lodged behind their bookcase. if you think down to it, normal is what happened to jinyoung and taehyung last night; there was an unwanted guest staying in their home and they had to evacuate in order for a close friend to deal with it. honestly, to be fair, it wasn’t much more than an inconvenience to have to find somewhere else to stay while the whole ordeal went down.
if jinyoung would spare a thought, he’d think about how un-normal his whole evening had been to anyone from the first sector. it would be difficult to tell a human friend about the annoyance of needing to room somewhere else because someone who died forty years ago, or three hundred, as sometimes the case may be, decided that they wanted to be a stubborn bastard and witness the world change after their time was up.
so, realistically, the four of them — jinyoung, yugyeom, seokjin and taehyung — getting stopped by a woman dressed in black clothing that hasn’t been seen for at least a century, veil covering her face, could be considered normal, too. in one world or another.
“you can help me,” the woman says.
jinyoung blinks as she stares at each of them expectantly, her hands clasped in front of her at chest level. there are glittering jewels on her fingers, surrounded by silver, and her nails are long, too long, actually, and in dire need of a cut. jinyoung thinks he can see dirt clinging beneath him and it takes a physical effort not to show any kind of disgust towards this little detail. yugyeom’s hand feels suddenly warm and present on the small of his back and jinyoung has no doubt that he’s reached out with his other hand to pull the boys just a little closer.
“we can help you?” jinyoung says with a quizzical expression, squinting just a little in an effort to look beyond the woman’s veil to find some kind of identifying feature. he finds nothing, staring at what he can only describe as an almost pixelated face.
the woman steps closer, voice a conspiratorial whisper. “it’s my husband, you see. he’s not doing well. he suffers. and because he suffers, I suffer. my children suffer. but you can help me.”
the crowd in the street doesn’t show any signs of noticing what’s going on, parting around the small group and not sparing them more glances than you would expect of nosy pedestrians who don’t actually have the time to eavesdrop properly. and it’s only that nonchalance makes jinyoung think that the woman might not be as big of a threat as he thought originally. because even in a world where normal can be the inconvenience of having a non-benign ghost in your home, or suddenly having to take care of a small necromancer, or witnessing two of your closest friends suddenly get together seemingly out of nowhere, a woman approaching asking for help can’t be that weird.
but yugyeom shakes his head, the action firm and offering not an inch of negotiating. “we can’t help you. so now, if you’ll excuse us—”
“but you have to help me!” the woman insists, voice high-pitched and hissing, stepping in their way when they try to move around her. her veils jerks when she moves her head a little too quickly, nearly as if she’s trying to lock eyes with one of them. “nobody else understands, believes! he is suffering and I cannot take much more of it!”
“we can’t help you,” yugyeom repeats and he makes another move to push past her, guiding jinyoung in front of him and pulling the kids behind him, when the woman lets out and grabs jinyoung’s arm.
“ah—!”
he yanks it out of her grip and takes a step back in under a second, bumping into yugyeom but not caring, instead cradling his arm close to his chest. his nerves are still sparking, still tingling from where she’d touched him. it wasn’t a nice tingling, though, not the kind of tingling you get just before your foot goes numb. no. it was the tingling that flares up a single second after you touch something too hot and the full effect of burning your skin takes place.
yugyeom’s grip on jinyoung’s back changes, fingers now curling into the material of his jacket tightly. if jinyoung looked, he’s sure he’d see narrowed eyes and a set jaw that’s just shy of jaebum’s own expression of anger. but he doesn’t look, allows him to place his trust in yugyeom that he has got a good hold on the kids, because he doesn’t want to look away from the woman. the woman who’s still got her hand outstretched from where he yanked it away.
she looks pleading.
“guys!”
the familiarity shakes surprise through the two adult witches’ systems and they snap their attention over to a familiar body pushing his way through the crowd. kunpimook smiles at them wide and waves them over with a ringed hand, stopping ten feet away from them and not quite turned to face them all full on.
before jinyoung can even think, yugyeom is pushing him forward and he’s almost tripping over his own feet. but then kunpimook is there in front of him and he has a hold on the dream weaver’s upper arms and he’s still smiling.
“oh guys, i’m so glad i found you!” he says, gushes more like, as if he hadn’t seen the four of them just yesterday. his hands drop from jinyoung’s upper arms but he loops one of his little fingers with one of jinyoung’s. “i’ve been looking for you everywhere, i have news to share with you.”
the whole situation is way too peculiar, prickling at the dream weaver’s unease. he wants to ask, but he thinks better of it, thinks better of trying to ask outright why one of his oldest friends is acting completely out of it after such a weird interaction. so instead, he goes with, “what—”
“come on!” kunpimook interrupts, dragging him quickly away. and with their little fingers still interlocked, jinyoung doesn’t have much of a choice. his jumper pulls a little and settles at the base of his throat when he moves, reminding him that yugyeom still has a strong hold on the back of it.
kunpimook leads them down the street without stopping, only turning his head briefly from side to side when they come to to roads they need to cross, coming very close both times to getting them all run over if it wasn’t for the reflexes of the drivers, stopping just in time. it doesn’t stop them from getting beeped at, rude hand gestures and on one occasion, a handful of insults floating their way out of an open window. but kunpimook doesn’t address the drivers.
“you musn’t talk to people like that, jinyoung-hyung,” kunpimook says a little later once they’ve stopped. he turns to face them properly, eyes lingering on the eldest’s face. “i thought we taught you better.”
the dream weaver snorts freely and crosses his arms over his chest, levelling the other with a look. “you taught me. right.”
kunpimook raises his eyebrows. “what, do you think raising people is a one-sided thing?”
“of course not,” jinyoung snaps, shoulders rising to brush his earlobes as he huffs, shuffling a little on his feet. “I’d like to think I know a bit more about magic than you do.”
seokjin tugs on his brother’s jacket. “gyeomie-hyungie.”
kunpimook and jinyoung lock gazes and stand there for quiet seconds that include yugyeom pulling his brother closer and flickering his gazes between his friends. he sighs when nothing changes after fifteen seconds and chooses that moment to speak up.
“look, what’s happened has happened, there’s no use crying over spilt milk. so can we just move on. please?”
the dream weaver is the first to look away, changing his focus to their shoes. “what did she want, anyway?”
“that’s not important,” kunpimook says nonchalantly. he pushes himself up onto his toes to look over jinyoung’s shoulder at the crowds behind them, scanning them for any sign of the same woman in black. “what’s important is that you can finally learn from yugyeom for once, rather than following your own ideas.”
“what.”
seokjin tries once more, tugging on his brother’s sleeve, bottom lip wobbling. “gyeomie-hyungie.”
the heavily tattooed witch drops himself back onto the sole of his feet and gestures to his best friend’s face, his own expression screaming ‘duh’, “he didn’t give away any emotion other than go away, which in this situation, is a good thing. you already hung around her too long, but it was in open air, so you should be fine.”
jinyoung snaps his gaze between the two youngsters, his own for once clouding into confusion. “what are you two talking about?”
“hyung,” yugyeom says, hand cupping the back of his younger brother’s head gently. “when was the last time you hung around other creatures.”
the dream weaver’s lack of response is telling enough.
yugyeom raises his eyebrows at him and kunpimook shakes his head. “whatever, it doesn’t matter. what matters is the fact that none of you have been in close contact with her for very long, or in an enclosed space. so you can worry about a lesson later.”
“alright,” jinyoung says slowly, shoulders sloping down once more. “what did you have to tell us, anyway?”
“huh?” kunpimook blinks.
“you were screaming at us? said you’ve been looking for us? ring any bells?”
“oh!”
“gyeomie-hyungie!”
the sob makes the three adults jump in their spots, kunpimook close to having a heart attack and jinyoung inches away from punching someone in the teeth. the three of them ae a little more than perplexed when they look down to see a red-faced, snotty seokjin, tears briming his eyes as his little fists cling tightly onto the hem of yugyeom’s sleever.
“taehyungie’s gone!”
#mack writes#gotbang fic#got7 fic#bts fic#kim taehyung#kim seokjin#park jinyoung#kim yugyeom#kunpimook bhuwakul#foster care au#cbfm#cbfm fic
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make it right [ yugkook au ] (8/?)
yugyeom is just trying to live his life in los angeles with minimal interfering from his friends in his love life, or lack thereof. a chance encounter with an old friend might just be what he needs.
Yugyeom had a good date, is looking forward to another and Kookie isn't sure how he feels about this. some 97's in a group chat added Yugyeom after yuchan realized he'd been spending time with kookie again.
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I just watched suicide squad again and i feel like u should totally write a fic based off that maybe a got7 au or bts au :00 or maybe i will 👀👀
yoo i actually haven’t watched suicide squad yet, but you totally should 👀👀👀 better yet, make it a gotbang au ;)
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Mark and Jackson need someone to break up their staring contest with an ask (All Pet Me / hybrid!au characters have been introduced now)
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