#hoseok usernames | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossdebut · 1 month ago

Text

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 03

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER TAGS/WARNINGS: THE JEJU TRIP BEGINS!, JK is clueless and a little bit annoying, jimin and taehyung are meddlers, seokjin wishes he was fishing, yoongi is a bitch as per usual, aqua uses ANOTHER arctic monkeys song as a plot device, A BIG REVEAL OF SORTS!, idk a lot of stuff happens in this chapter, the exposition is expositioning (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 7.4k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi everyone! happy belated taehyung day and happy new year! writing this chapter kicked my ass. it sat at 1k-ish words for almost the ENTIRE month until i miraculously busted out the final 6.4k in less than 48 hours. but it’s hereeeeee! a big thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading and mj @kkaetnipjeon for answering my many, many questions about jeju <3

P.S. the jeju house in this is modeled after an airbnb i found online (with a few alterations to fit my perception of yoongi’s taste) so if my description isn’t enough for you to picture it, here is the link to the house i modeled it after!

P.P.S. i finally got my taglist sorted out! if your username is missing at this point, it means i straight up don’t have it. comment and/or fill out my taglist form if you want to be added!

CH. 03: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?

Jeju is a big change of pace for you.

You spend your days in Seoul with little reason to step outside of city limits. It’s so big, offering anything and everything you could possibly need. When you do happen to travel, it’s always for work, and always to some other booming metropolis. It’s difficult to recall the last time you’d been surrounded by such lush greenery as opposed to the impenetrable walls of slate grey you’ve grown accustomed to.

It feels like a miracle that your manager, Seoyeon, was able to swing this for you, even if there are a few strings. You’re still technically working—you always are, whether it’s through the brand of clothes you’re seen wearing or the model of car you’re seen leaving the airport in. A walking advertisement. But still, she’s managed to finesse things so you don’t have any shoots lined up for the next few weeks.

You don’t think you’ve been to Jeju since your last trip with Seokjin, the summer after you graduated high school. A trip that Seokjin spent fishing and you spent sunning. And the two of you, funded by the money Seokjin had saved up during his second year of college, certainly weren’t staying in a place like this.

Yoongi’s house in Seogwipo is far from what you imagined.

It’s huge, but you knew to expect that, at least. Two floors, four bedrooms, three bathrooms. More than enough space to accommodate a rock band and their instruments (and their egos), which is why it was purchased in the first place.

But given what you know about Yoongi, and the fact that the band only comes here when they need to write an album, you weren’t expecting it to be so… homey.

The walls are painted a soft sage green. Dark wooden furnishings, splashes of charcoal grey and cream. A screened-in patio on the first floor that leads to a gorgeous garden with a wooden (and from the looks of it, hand-built) free standing swing. A terrace on the second floor with a beautiful view of the surrounding beach village.

There are fucking houseplants all over the place, thriving in the natural light the many windows offer. It looks like somebody lives here, even though you’d bet your left tit that Yoongi doesn’t.

It doesn’t look to his taste, or at least what you’d imagine his taste to be. Dark and minimalistic, rather than dark and cozy. Cold, clinical. Yoongi’s apartment is probably as inviting as a hotel suite.

Maybe Yoongi owns it, but Namjoon maintains it. That’d make sense.

You think about asking, just to satisfy your own curiosity, but as everyone disperses to drop their bags, you decide it’s not worth it. Namjoon is preoccupied with his managerial duties, unloading equipment and instruments from the car, and nothing good seems to ever come out of talking to Yoongi anyway.

Jeongguk, ever the gentleman, wrenches your bags from your hands before you even get a chance to figure out which room you’ll be staying in. Hefting the strap of a duffel bag over his shoulder, extra large rolling suitcases in each hand, he carries everything up the stairs with alarming ease, leaving you no choice but to follow. He has your bags, after all.

You follow him silently into a bedroom on the second floor. It’s only when he tosses all of the bags onto the bed that you realize, with shocking clarity, that you and Jeongguk are expected to share a room.

This room. Which only has one bed. Because happy couples sleep in the same bed.

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks, the sound of his voice effectively tearing your eyes away from the mattress-shaped elephant in the room.

You really need to get better at keeping control of your facial features, instead of looking like you’re going to be sick at every perceived complication.

“Is, um,” you start, pointing at the bed. “Are we…?”

Realization crosses over Jeongguk’s face as his gaze follows the direction of your finger.

“Oh, fuck,” he huffs, big boba eyes widening. “I didn’t really think about it, to be honest with you.”

Well, that’s not very reassuring.

“Oh,” you say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, even though you’re feeling very much the opposite.

Being on this trip is bad enough. You already feel like you’re intruding on something you’ll never really be a part of, despite all of Jeongguk’s insistence that you being in Jeju with him will do wonders for your story’s credibility. But the idea of sharing a bed with him is just… It’s too much. It’s too real.

Somewhere in a hospital back in Seoul, Seokjin is laughing at your expense. You can sense it.

“It’s fine,” Jeongguk says, waving his hand dismissively.

“Jeongguk,” you huff. You don’t want to be a bitch, but you can’t help but get frustrated—on behalf of yourself and his girlfriend, who you’re allegedly doing all of this bullshit for in the first place. He’s been here, has lived in this house for weeks on end as long as they’ve been writing albums here. He should’ve known this would be a problem.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like it very much if she knew we’d be sharing a bed while we’re here.”

“I’ll figure it out,” he says, apparently oblivious to the irritation that’s starting to come off of you in waves. “I’m sure there’s a couch I can move in here or something.”

“Okay,” you say stiffly. You’re unconvinced, but if he wants to figure out how to move a couch in here unnoticed, that’s up to him.

“Seriously,” Jeongguk insists, squeezing your shoulder in reassurance. “I’ll take care of it. Come on, let’s go back downstairs.”

“You go ahead,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m gonna unpack a little before I head down.”

Jeongguk shrugs, leaving the room without fighting you on it. Thank god, too. You need a few minutes to decompress before you willingly head back into the belly of the beast.

Shit, this was a bad idea. This was all a bad idea, and you just keep going along with it because you’re incapable of saying ‘no’ where Jeon Jeongguk is concerned.

Meeting the band after their last concert was one thing. A necessary evil, in order to sell all of this. Even hijacking their tour wrap dinner wasn’t that big of a deal—it certainly felt good to put Yoongi in his place, you have no problem admitting that.

But this? Sharing a house with the other members who all think you’re someone you’re not, just for some airport pictures? A few Instagram posts? It feels like you’re both taking things too far.

And then there’s Yoongi.

Yoongi, who hasn’t spoken a word to anyone since the plane took off from Incheon. You didn’t think so many questions could be answered with hums and grunts, but you’re almost impressed by how wrong he’s proven you. It’s all in the inflection, it seems.

He’s pissed. Whether it’s still about the dinner, or just the fact that you’re here at all, you don’t know. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to piss him off further, just on principle. But being in such close quarters like this…. All a pissed Yoongi is going to do is cause more problems for you.

You’re deliberating on whether or not proposing a truce would be worth it when you finally leave the bedroom, heading towards the stairs.

Everyone seems to be doing their own part in setting up for the trip. Namjoon and Jeongguk are outside clearing out what remains in the car, visible through the glass of the front door. Taehyung is pacing around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and recording his findings in the notes app of his phone. And…

Speak of the devil. Yoongi is helping Jimin set up his drum kit in the middle of the living room, right smack in front of your face as you reach the foot of the staircase.

Since you’ve been upstairs, he’s shed the stupid black puffy coat he was wearing at the airport. The sweater that was underneath too, it seems, leaving him down to a long-sleeved white thermal.

It makes sense–-Jeju is more temperate than Seoul, and the heat is blasting in the house anyway.

He’s sprawled out on the floor, on his back as he attaches the legs to the kick drum while Jimin deals with the toms. It’s not as if drum kit assembly is particularly interesting to you. You don’t know why you stop and look, but you do.

Yoongi is always so buttoned up, both metaphorically and literally. Especially with the chill that’s been permeating Seoul for the past two months. Everyone’s been drowning in layers—except you, thanks to Hyerin. And it’s so, so stupid, but the hem of Yoongi’s shirt is bunched up just the slightest bit as he reaches for a screwdriver. It’s just the faintest hint of pale skin, right above the waistband of his jeans, but it’s more than you’ve ever seen from him. For some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to look away.

But then he adjusts and its gone, forcing you to snap out of whatever bizarre reverie you’ve found yourself in.

When you glance up, he’s staring right back at you. Your eyes zero in on his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, just a flash of the little silver barbell there before it’s gone again. His eyebrow raises in recognition, like he’s caught you doing something you shouldn’t.

…Are you doing something you shouldn’t?

“You’re doing that wrong,” you blurt, relief flooding you when he breaks first, his head swiveling to look over his handiwork with a furrowed brow.

Your diversion gives you enough time to sneak away towards the kitchen. Yoongi’s muttered ‘what the fuck do you know’ reaches your heated ears as you pass by, but you have no choice but to let it go.

What the fuck. You really need to get laid if an inch of skin can make heat crawl up your neck like this. From Min Yoongi, no less.

★ ★ ★

Time spent hiding in the kitchen reveals the method to Taehyung’s cabinet-snooping madness: building a grocery list.

Once your little freakout subsides, you’re fully briefed on the process, joining him in taking stock of what’s here and what isn’t. To your surprise, many of the shelf-friendly basics have been kept in full stock, leaving mostly perishables (meats, vegetables, and fruits) to be added to the list. After Taehyung’s phone is passed around for everyone’s additions, Namjoon and Yoongi roll out to go grocery shopping at a nearby market.

It isn’t lost on you that the pair are acting a bit strangely towards each other—and it can’t just be because of what went down at the dinner. Ever since you met the band at Incheon, they’ve given Yoongi a noticeably wide berth. But the maknaes still talked to him, despite the lackluster responses (grunts) they received in return.

Even Jeongguk has been interacting with Yoongi, and he was the one who drove him out of Yoojung Sikdang in the first place! You haven’t seen Namjoon look his way all day. He still isn’t, you note, as you watch their car retreat through the window.

Weird.

Not that you care, of course. Yoongi deserved what he got at that dinner, as far as you’re concerned. You don’t regret calling those reporters. You told Seokjin you wanted to make his life a living hell, and you’d meant it.

But still, you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at you at the possibility that you’re playing the part of Yoko Ono. You’re sure Yoongi thinks so.

Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. Who gives a fuck? It’s not like you’re here for him. You’re here for Jeongguk. You just need to put him out of your mind, you decide.

You make your way through the house, intent on finding Jeongguk to help with whatever else needs to get done tonight, when you’re ambushed by two maknaes that are clearly up to no good.

“YN-ieeee,” Jimin sing-songs. There’s a mischievous look in his eye as he grabs you by the hand and pulls you towards the living room.

“Come sit with us,” Taehyung insists, plopping himself down on the couch and patting the space next to him.

“I was actually looking for Jeongguk,” you say, eyeing both of them. But you relent anyway, stiffly sitting down on the couch where they now flank you.

“He gets you all the time,” Jimin says. He smiles brightly, turning his body towards you and tilting his head as he studies you. “It’s our turn. We have a question for you.”

Oh, you do not like this one bit.

“A question?”

“A question,” Taehyung repeats, nodding.

“Okay, um,” you start, unsure of which one of them to look at. You settle on Taehyung, because he’s far less menacing. “Go ahead?”

“What’s going on with you and Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin asks.

Fuck. So much for putting him out of your mind.

It’s a fair question, but still, your head turns so fast in Jimin’s direction that you swear you hear a crack in your neck.

“Wh-what? What do you mean?”

“The animosity,” Jimin purrs. He’s still grinning at you, all charming teeth and deceptively cute mochi cheeks. “You both just met, right? Where’d that come from?”

This is a nightmare.

It’s not like you can tell them the truth, as much as you may want to. Until you can figure out exactly what it is Yoongi claims to know about you, he pretty much has you backed into a corner. Plus, you’ll be living with him for at least a few weeks. You’re not against ruining his time here in small, inconsequential ways, but this is decidedly not that.

You’ll keep the peace. For now.

“I think Yoongi-ssi and I just got off on the wrong foot,” you explain. It’s not a complete lie, to be fair. “I’ve been meaning to talk to him about what happened at Yoojung Sikdang…”

“That was ugly,” Taehyung says, wincing at the memory.

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees. “Does he really think the photographers were your fault?”

Yes, because they were.

“I guess so,” you sigh. “I don’t blame him, honestly. I would’ve thought the same if I were him. I feel really bad about the whole thing.”

“Don’t,” Taehyung says emphatically as he clasps one of your hands in his. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Taehyung since you’ve met him, it’s that he’s not very big on personal space. He’s so casual about it, though, that you’re finding you don’t mind all that much.

“We can talk to him if you want us to,” Jimin says. “Yoongi-hyung can be a real asshole when he puts his mind to it, and you don’t deserve that.”

“No! No, it’s fine,” you insist, trying not to panic. For whatever reason, Yoongi has kept his suspicions about you between the two of you. As far as you know, at least. You’d like to keep it that way. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks, eyeing you.

“I’m sure.”

Thankfully, they both seemingly let it go after that. When Jeongguk reappears, he joins the three of you on the couch and the conversation moves to safer topics, all of them excitedly chattering to you about what they plan to do while they’re in Jeju.

Apparently, the four always make a point to visit a nearby citrus orchard when they come here. It sounds fun, and for the first time since Jeongguk invited you, you allow yourself to feel the slightest bit of excitement about this trip. You can’t help it. You fucking love tangerines.

Namjoon and Yoongi return from the market an hour or so later.

Namjoon enlists the help of the maknaes to help him haul bags of groceries inside, leaving you to hover awkwardly as Yoongi moves around the kitchen.

He and Namjoon must’ve talked or something. He looks much more at peace than he did when they left. At least, until he catches you staring.

“What?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his eyes at you as he procures a cutting board from a cabinet.

“Just wondering if you need any help,” you say, a practiced, saccharine smile on your face.

“From you?” he scoffs. “I’m good.”

“At least I offered.”

“You’re a regular Mother Teresa.”

You roll your eyes as you watch him pull what he needs from the knifeblock, silently praying he cuts one of his precious guitar-playing fingers off. But your intent to voice that hope is thwarted by Namjoon and the rest of the members ambling back inside, arms full of grocery bags.

Yoongi clearly doesn’t want you lingering, so after you help clear off the counter, you make yourself scarce until dinner is done.

You busy yourself with texting Seokjin with an update on how things are going. You know he’s probably at work, so you try to keep it as succinct as possible despite everything that’s happened since you’ve arrived—Yoongi’s icy behavior, the confusion surrounding your sleeping arrangement, the (resolved?) tension between Namjoon and Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung’s interrogation.

And then, because you want him to at least envy you a little bit, you send him pictures of the house—and then brag about your proximity to fish.

You: we’re like a 5 min walk from a fishing port too lol

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes, and you can’t help your snort at his response. It’s a selca of him pouting in his scrubs, covered in stickers of an agonized Mario.

SuckJin: I h8 u

You: <3

The rest of the night goes smoothly, all things considered. Yoongi’s maeun-tang is delicious, which is slightly annoying, but you’re not one to take good food for granted. Plus, the two of you are a lot more amicable during this dinner than the last one you shared together.

After dinner, everyone finishes setting up the equipment in the living room, which quickly turns into an impromptu jam session under the guise of testing the setup. It’s nice, being able to watch them play together without the pressure of a stage, of a crowd. They’re just fooling around, playing whatever sounds right, joking back and forth—and you get to witness it.

You’re just about to get out of their hair and head upstairs when Jeongguk gets up, intercepting you before you reach the staircase.

“Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head towards the patio. “Come outside with me?”

Wordlessly, you nod, confused as you follow him outside. Jeongguk guides you over to the swing you were admiring when you’d all arrived. You can’t help but notice how nervous he looks as you both sit, but you try not to assume the worst.

“I feel like you were kinda mad at me,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Earlier.”

About the bed? Yeah, kind of. But you didn’t realize you’d made it so obvious.

“It’s fine,” you insist, shaking your head. “I was more flustered than anything, honestly. I just don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“You won’t,” he huffs, smiling a little. “I moved a couch into our room while Yoongi and Namjoon-hyung were gone. Like I said I would.”

Oh. Well. Now you kind of feel like a bitch.

“I’ll take it,” you offer. “You’re the one who’s here for work, anyway. I’d feel bad if I didn’t—”

“No, I’ll take it,” Jeongguk says, ignoring your responding huff. “Come on, YN-ah. I’ll barely be working while we’re here, anyway. It always goes the same way: Yoongi-hyung pretends like he’s going to let us help, and then he writes the entire album by himself. The rest of us are basically on vacation.”

“Besides, you’re here as a favor to me,” he adds. “Let me take the couch.”

You want to protest, but once Jeon Jeongguk sets his mind to something, it’s pretty much impossible for anyone to stand in his way.

“Fine.”

“Speaking of Yoongi-hyung…”

You groan, leaning your head back against the support of the swing. Everyone wants to talk about Min fucking Yoongi today. “What about him?”

“Is he playing nice?”

“He’s barely spoken to me,” you mutter, turning your head to level Jeongguk with a look. “So yes, he’s playing very nice. For him.”

“What’s his deal with you?” he asks, curious. Isn’t that just the question of the day?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say. “Jeongguk, it’s fine. Seriously. He doesn’t like me, I don’t like him, but I’m dealing with it. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Jeongguk clearly disagrees, but he holds it in, which you’re thankful for. At least you can be more candid with him than you can with Jimin and Taehyung.

“Just let me know if that changes, okay?”

“I will,” you mumble.

“Let me know if anything changes,” he corrects, nudging your shoulder with his. “Like… If you don’t want to do this anymore. I know it’s a lot.”

“It is,” you agree, sighing. “But nothing’s changed, Guk. I’ve dealt with assholes before. Min Yoongi is nothing compared to the worst of them.”

If only he could know just how much you mean that.

“I just wish you two could get along,” he says, fiddling with his lip ring nervously. “Yoongi-hyung is a good guy when you get to know him. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

You don’t know what to say to that, partially because you have a hard time believing it. You have absolutely zero evidence that Yoongi is a good guy, and you’re more likely to believe that they’ve all just known each other way too long. That Jeongguk is blinded by admiration for his hyung.

“I’m sorry,” you say, because it’s all you have to offer. “I wish we could get along, too.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, the swing rocking your bodies back and forth. But you can only take it for so long.

“I’m gonna head up. You coming?”

“No,” Jeongguk says, shaking his head as you stand up. “You go ahead. I’ll be in later.”

You feel bad for leaving him alone when he’s so clearly upset, but you know there’s nothing you can say or do to fix it. Just another thing outside of your control. They’re piling up, aren’t they?

You offer him a sympathetic smile, and then you head inside, leaving him with his thoughts.

★ ★ ★

You’re up bright and early the next morning, a full afternoon of Teams meetings ahead of you. Luckily it’s nothing too laborious—some planning for your schedule prior in light of the new year, calls that were scheduled long before you were invited to Jeju.

Jeongguk didn’t make it in before you fell asleep last night. You find that he’s already gone when you wake, too, blankets left in disarray on the couch he’s wedged into the corner of the room.

Guiltily, you resign yourself to staying locked in the bedroom until you’re done with your work. It’s only right to give him time with his hyungs, something he obviously needs after your conversation last night. You’re happy to leave him be, if that’s what he needs.

You’d set your alarm with plenty of time to scroll aimlessly on your phone before you need to get up, so you do just that, reading through missed texts and Instagram notifications in a groggy haze. After, you wash your face and brush your teeth in the adjoining bathroom before setting your laptop up on the bed.

Your calls go fine, although you’re bored to tears the whole time. You don’t know why Seoyeon even adds you to these things—it’s not like you have any control over your career. They might as well cut out the middleman and brief you on their decisions via email. But instead, you silently snack on a power bar you find stashed in your bag as your life for the next calendar year is mapped out for you, smiling and nodding when necessary.

As time passes, you lose track of how many faces have cycled through your screen. You stay glued to the same spot call after call, your stiffened legs pins and needles underneath you, and you only register how much time has passed when the bedroom door swings open.

“Hey. You in a meeting?”

Your eyes snap up from your laptop to find Jeongguk poking his head into the bedroom. With a quick glance to your calendar, you realize you’ve just finished your last call of the day, and it’s not even two in the afternoon.

“No, I’m all done,” you say, shutting your laptop and waving him in. “What’s up?”

“Namjoon-hyung’s gotta go back to Seoul, so we’re taking him to the airport,” Jeongguk says, kicking the door closed behind him and sitting on the edge of the bed. “And then we’re gonna fuck around in Jeju City for a little bit. See the sights and all.”

“Oh, okay.”

Is this an invite, or…?

“Yoongi-hyung’s staying, though.”

Fuck. Nope, not an invite.

“Is he,” you hum, acting as unbothered as possible.

“We got some songs started today,” Jeongguk says, studying your expression for a moment. “The rest of us are burnt out, but he wants to keep going.”

“Well, do you want me to join you guys, or—”

“I want you to stay and talk to him.”

There it is.

“Jeongguk,” you huff, a protest on the tip of your tongue.

“YN, it’s worth a shot! Maybe if you two have a chance to talk you’ll find out you have more in common than you think.”

“I don’t think he’ll be happy if I interrupt his songwriting to have some kind of Kumbaya moment, Guk,” you sigh.

Jeongguk stands up from the bed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Can’t you at least try?” he says, his voice clipped as he paces. “Both of you are so fucking stubborn. Maybe you can bond over that.”

He’s one to talk about being stubborn, but whatever. You’ll let it slide, only because you feel so fucking guilty.

A long moment passes, and at your silence Jeongguk stops in his tracks to look at you expectantly. Fuck. Fuck this man and his stupid big brown eyes.

“I can’t promise you anything,” you finally say.

“Like I said, I just want you to try.”

He’s still tense, but at the hint of acquiescence from you, he softens. And that little bit of softness is enough for you to fully give.

“Fine,” you huff. You can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Thank you,” he beams, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, patting his back. Your heart flutters just the slightest bit because you’re a weak, weak woman. “Just don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

“I won’t!” he promises, pulling away with a bright grin. Hopes absolutely all the way up.

Goddammit. You hope Yoongi is feeling talkative today, because if not, you’re going to be the one crushing this poor guy’s dreams.

At this point, you’ll make him talk if you have to. Anything to keep that from happening.

“Go,” you say, nudging him towards the door. “I can’t talk to him until you guys leave.”

He clearly doesn’t need any more motivation than that, because then he’s out the door.

“You’re the best, YN!” he calls as he books it down the hallway, leaving you to flop back onto the bed with a groan.

Well. You’ve fucked yourself now.

***

You allow yourself the luxury of taking a shower before you head downstairs to face Yoongi. Maybe part of you is trying to prolong your peace, but you also haven’t felt clean since you got off the plane yesterday.

Still, you take your time, giving your hair a thorough wash and meticulously applying your skincare. By the time you dry off and exit the bathroom, a large cloud of steam follows you into the bedroom, still lingering in the air as you pull on some clean clothes.

What’s the right outfit to wear while you’re waving a white flag at your sworn enemy? Will a sweater and jeans cut it? You reason that you might as well be comfortable for this, settling on something soft and cashmere for the top—because you’re worth it!—and then pulling on a baggy pair of blue jeans.

Your socked feet finally pad down the stairs in search of the man himself, but you don’t have to look very far.

Yoongi sits cross-legged on the floor in the living room, his signature custom McCarty laid across his lap as he scribbles in the notebook in front of him, brow furrowed.

You know it’s not going to be easy to get him to talk, but you can’t help but feel annoyed when you sit down in front of him and he doesn’t even lift his head. Asshole.

“Yoongi,” you say, waving your hand in front of his face.

It doesn’t make him look at you, still scribbling away, but you at least get a grunt in return this time. You’ll take it.

“Don’t you think you should take a break?” you say. It’s obvious you’re fishing, but looking at him, it’s clear he needs one anyway. He looks exhausted. Did he even sleep? Or did he start working when everyone else called it a night? He’s not wearing the same clothes from last night, white thermal replaced with a black t-shirt and matching beanie, but that doesn’t mean he slept.

Not that you care.

“No.”

Okay, you expected that. God forbid he make things easy for you.

You watch as he drops his pen, gaze still on his open notebook as he strums at the strings of his guitar, humming a half-baked melody under his breath.

“Why’d you pick Jeju?” you ask, satisfaction swelling when he glances up, meeting your eyes. But then it fizzles out when he looks away again.

The seconds tick by and he remains as tight-lipped as ever. Annoyed and antsy, you resort to filling the silence yourself, hoping you’ll get him to break if you just keep talking.

“I mean, it’s nice here, but you guys could write an album anywhere. There’s gotta be a reason you picked here, of all places.”

More silence. You want to give up—you could give up. You could easily tell Jeongguk you tried, and it wouldn’t necessarily be a lie. But you owe it to him to try harder.

Huffing, you reach out and close the notebook between your sitting bodies, earning a sharp glare from the man in front of you.

“C’mon, Yoongi,” you plead. “I’m really trying to get to know you here.”

With a long sigh, Yoongi looks up at the ceiling, his eyes rolling dramatically.

“Okay, fine,” he concedes. “If it’ll get you to shut the fuck up. What do you wanna know?”

Triumphantly, you ask about the house—if you’re going to be forced to make nice, you might as well ask questions you actually want to know the answers to. Who actually owns this house and why seems like as good a place to start as any.

“I own it,” Yoongi says. It seems like he’s going to try and leave it at that, but when you fix him with a withering stare, he continues with a sigh. “It used to be an Airbnb, but after our first stay I wanted it for myself. So once I had enough money from the first album, I negotiated with the owner. Bought it for a ridiculous price, but it’s mine.”

“It looks so well-maintained,” you offer, hoping he’ll continue if you resort to flattery. Plus, it’s true.

“I didn’t just buy it for us,” he says opening his notebook again. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he slides it out of your reach. “My family uses it sometimes, like a vacation home. When I was growing up, they always talked about taking family trips here during the summer, but money was too tight most of the time. Now they can come whenever they want.”

Oh. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Huh.

To your surprise, he entertains more of your questions without a fight. Where does his family live? (Daegu.) Does he have any siblings? (An older brother.) Is the swing outside really handbuilt? (Yes.) Who built it? (Yoongi did.)

His answers are succinct, but at the very least you’ve got him talking. As he continues to strum his guitar, you decide to push your luck and switch topics, hoping he’ll continue to play along.

“What are you working on?”

Yoongi grins, meeting your eyes again. “I’m writing a song for you.”

Uh oh.

He’s fucking with you, right?

All kinds of alarms are going off in your head, but still, you can’t help yourself. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Listen.”

Without missing a beat, Yoongi starts playing the chords he’s been half-heartedly strumming since you sat down, this time in earnest. And then, his gravelly voice fills your ears as he sings the lyrics he has written down in front of him.

Well, it's ever so funny 'Cause I don't think you're special, I don't think you're cool You're just probably alright But under these lights you look beautiful And I'm struggling, I can't see through your fake tan Yeah, and you know it for a fact that everybody's eating out of your hands

But what do you know? Oh, you know nothing Yeah, but I'll still take you home

What. The. Fuck.

Is this why he’s been entertaining you this whole time? Was it all just a set-up for the most insulting punchline you’ve ever heard in your life?

He doesn’t even bother to suppress his laughter when you snatch his notebook and throw it clear across the room.

“You are such an asshole!” you shout, surging forward to push roughly at his chest.

“Come on, dollface,” he says, shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter. “It was funny.”

“The fuck it was,” you snap, scrambling to your feet. Fuck this. You can really say you’ve tried now, and you don’t think Jeongguk would blame you one bit for calling it quits after Yoongi’s little show.

You turn on your heel, ready to run upstairs and lock yourself in your room until the maknaes get home, when you feel a strong hand grab your elbow. You don’t know when Yoongi got up, but before you can react, you’re whirled around to face him with your back pressed against the banister.

“I knew you were boring, but I thought you’d at least have a sense of humor.”

“Fuck you,” you say through gritted teeth, jerking your elbow out of his grasp. He lets go easily, but for some reason, you don’t move. You don’t retreat up the stairs. Instead, you stand stock still as the both of you stare at each other, your chest rising and falling with your anger-fueled breaths.

Just like he had when he caught you staring yesterday, Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. A challenge.

“What’s your problem with me?” you manage, unsure of what to do with the way he’s staring you down. Why is he so close to you? Why can’t you bring yourself to move away?

“Stupid question. I’ve been pretty clear about that.”

“No, seriously,” you snap, jabbing your index finger into the center of his chest. “You said you know more about me than I think. What do you know?”

Silence. Nothing but a stupid, amused smirk plastered on his face. Of course. If he wants you to play a guessing game, you will. Not knowing exactly what he’s holding over your head is driving you insane, and you can’t do it anymore.

“Do you know about the photos?” you ask, your voice weak now.

Yoongi blinks at you, bewildered.

“Huh?”

You let out the breath that you were holding. Thank fuck. Thank fuck. Okay, he doesn’t know. Holy shit, you’ve never felt so relieved.

Shaking your head, you soldier on, despite your overwhelming urge to throw up. Your mind wanders to the lyrics he sang to you just a few moments ago. I'll still take you home. Instead of the power bar you ate earlier, a sudden bark of a laugh escapes your throat, visibly startling Yoongi.

“Do you want to fuck me or something? Is that what this is about?” It’s your turn to be amused now, especially when Yoongi sputters and turns bright pink right in front of your eyes. “You’re jealous that Jeongguk got to me first?”

“The fuck? Are you insane?”

“If that’s not it, what the hell is it, Yoongi? What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so much?”

Huffing, Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest. It’s clear that he’s torn about whether or not he should lay all of his cards on the table right now, but you’re not giving him much of a choice. You’re so wired that you might strangle him if he decides to bite his tongue.

Finally, he speaks.

“I just happen to be pretty good friends with Yoo Kihyun.”

Just like that, your hard-earned upper hand disappears and your stomach drops to your goddamn ass.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

There’s a name you haven’t heard in a while.

It’s satisfying, seeing you falter.

In fact, it makes Yoongi feel all the more justified in the way he feels about you. He’d started to doubt himself after his phone call with Namjoon last week, but if just the sound of Kihyun’s name makes you look like you’re about to shit your pants, he must be on the right track.

“I… Oh,” you say, dumbstruck.

Yeah, Yoongi’s fucking caught your ass.

“Good enough explanation for you?” he asks, smug. Rightfully so, too, he thinks.

But then you’re grabbing him by the wrist, glancing around like someone’s going to fucking overhear you or something. Like it’s not just the two of you here.

“Come here,” you hiss as you drag him to the nearest bedroom, which just so happens to be his, slamming the door shut behind you.

Yoongi watches with amusement as you pace around the room, but his patience is wearing thin. He has shit to do.

“If you have more of your stupid fucking questions, just ask them,” he snaps. “You’re wasting my time.”

“What did Kihyun say about me?”

Ah. Wouldn’t you like to know?

But he’ll tell you, only because he’s feeling nice. You’ve put him in a good mood.

“Mostly that you were a shit girlfriend,” Yoongi says, smirking at you as he shrugs.

“I—”

“Felt bad for the guy, honestly. I’ve known him for years, you know, and he’s had plenty of girlfriends. He’s a good looking guy. But I’d never seen him so fucked up over a girl until he started dating you.”

“Yoongi…”

“And then one day, he calls me out of the blue, right? It wasn’t the first time he’d complained to me about you, and I figured I was in for more of the same,” he says, leaning back against the door as you perch at the end of his bed, wobbly. “But he said something pretty interesting, actually.”

“What?” you ask. Your voice is shaky. Yoongi grins.

“He told me he thought you were using him,” he says. “You barely talked to him, never took interest in anything he liked. Hardly spent time with him.” He pauses, before adding, “unless there were cameras involved. It’s a reasonable conclusion to draw, don’t you think?”

When you remain silent, Yoongi’s more than happy to continue.

“I tell him he shouldn’t have to take that shit, you know? It’s not fair. He’s a really good guy. So he tells me he’s going to invite you over, at least give you a chance to explain yourself before he dumps you. He didn’t want it to be a big thing, wanted to end things quietly.”

You whimper at that, your head in your hands now.

“Next thing I know, I’m seeing headline after headline,” he says, tilting his head at you. “And less than twenty four hours later, you’re at an award show, putting on this pitiful act for sympathy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say. Yoongi can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t think Kihyun was lying to me,” he says, matter-of-fact. “He’s not that type of guy. Everyone knows that. Admit it, you were using him. And now you’re doing the same thing to Jeongguk.”

When you look up, you have tears in your eyes. Yoongi’s gotta hand it to you, your acting is getting much better.

“I was a shit girlfriend,” you concede, sniffling. “But I wasn’t using Kihyun.”

Okay. He’ll bite.

“Why even bother dating him, then? You obviously didn’t like him that much.”

“I just—” you cut yourself off, taking a shaky breath. “He was nice. That’s hard to come by.”

“Too boring for you in the end, then?”

Yoongi expects you to snap at him, to get angry, but instead you let out a watery little laugh.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Hm. Okay.

He’s not sure what to do with that.

“Look,” you say, wiping at your eyes as you stand up from his bed. “I don’t know how to convince you that you’re wrong about me, and I’m honestly sick of trying. You want to hate me? Fine. I hate you, too.”

At least they can agree on something, Yoongi thinks.

“But Jeongguk asked me to talk to you,” you add. “He’s hurting.”

God fucking dammit. Yeah, Yoongi noticed how fucked up Jeongguk looked when he finally came inside last night. Part of him was hoping that you two had gotten into it, that Jeongguk was about to buy you a one-way ticket back to Seoul.

But no. It was about him.

Fuck.

“Can’t we just pretend to get along? For his sake?” you ask. “Call a truce, at least as long as I’m here?”

Shit. You really care about him.

Yoongi’s still not convinced the relationship isn’t bullshit, but this doesn’t seem like acting. He thinks about what Namjoon said over the phone, about the idea of losing Jeongguk over something so stupid.

Pretending to get along with you while you’re in Jeju wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not if it means he gets to keep Jeongguk. He can always have a heart-to-heart with the kid after you fly home.

With a sigh, Yoongi relents. “Fine. But I still don’t fucking trust you.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, holding out your hand for him to shake. Reluctantly, Yoongi takes it.

“Great,” he says, dropping your hand in an instant. “Can I go back to work now?”

“Do what you want,” you say, shoving past him to open his bedroom door.

And then you’re gone.

★ ★ ★

Yoongi doesn’t see you for the rest of the day, but even as he works, you invade every single one of his thoughts. The songwriting streak he’d been on since last night comes to a grinding halt, leaving him with nothing to show for his day alone.

When the kids get back, rowdy and excited, Yoongi’s guitar is long forgotten as he lays across the couch. Lost in thought, he only lifts his head when Jeongguk makes a beeline straight for him.

“YN talked to you?” Jeongguk asks hopefully, and Yoongi’s heart clenches.

A truce.

Well, no better time than now to start.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up in what he hopes is a convincing smile. “Yeah, Guk-ah. We’re all good.”

Relief flashes over Jeongguk’s face, and for the first time since Yoojung Sikdang, Yoongi’s on the receiving end of one of his genuine, big grins. He feels bad lying to the kid, but it’s not like you’ve left him with much choice. And it feels good to be the recipient of one of those again.

Still, Yoongi can’t help but think about what you’d said earlier.

Yoongi might’ve shown his hand, but in a way you did, too. The photos? What the fuck did you mean by that? Is there something out there that can point to your guilt, and all Yoongi has to do is go digging for it?

Not to mention your resigned agreement when he guessed Kihyun was too nice for you, too boring. Maybe he can’t use Kihyun against you like he thought he could, but the way you’d looked at Yoongi when he was setting up Jimin’s drums…

That he can use.

He’ll hold up his end of the truce, so long as you do the same.

But you can’t blame him for wanting to know the truth.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

askbox ★ ao3 ★ anonymous feedback box

✧ TAGLIST:

@kkaetnipjeon @ktownshizzle @joonary @jajabro @pitchblack0309

@ot72025 @futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @wobblewobble822

@this-most-assuredly-counts @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @sugafun @whoa-jo @amarawayne

@kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @jimingirl95 @jadestonedaeho7 @notsevenwithyou

@perfctlyunstable @yoonmetogether @kpophosblog @chimmchimmm @nnybtitts08

@sugar-snap @namjoonsbuspass @1800lxcifrrr @angellekookie @binniesbabe

@jalexad @daskewl @rebloginfics @ennvfv @curse-of-art

@tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @broken-glowsticks @bontensbabygirl

@silencionyx @dropdeadbec

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

140 notes · View notes

sweetestofchaos · 2 months ago

Text

Blackthorn Ch 17 | M.YG

Come What May - an investigation takes place within the palace and everyone is under suspicion.

a/n: Hello everyone. I know it has been a while…I want to take this time to thank you for reading Blackthorn and showing such support even with the breaks in between. I've been all over the place while trying to get back into writing. It is my first love and has helped me a lot in the past. I hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to more. The next chapter is in the works and I'm excited to get back into the world of Blackthorn. It's a magical world that just makes me want to do better, ya know?

Huge shout out to @theharrowing and @sailoryooons for being my betas throughout this whole series. They are such wonderful people and push me to make this story the best it can be. I love them both dearly!

a/n 2: Minors do NOT interact with my work, please and thank you. Also, this is cross posted on ao3, under the same username sweetestofchaos. As always, Namjoon edit by the wonderful @colormepurplex2

taglist: @thickemadame @loisje123

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Previous | Next

“Forgive me. I-It was foolish of me to take you outside of the walls. I-I…”

The Prince didn’t know what to say as his own eyes burned with tears. Everyone would be hurt because of him and here he was holding the one person he never meant to hurt the most. Prince Yoongi vaguely recalled a conversation he had with Hoseok, Namjoon, and Seokjin about the possibility of a spy within the walls but it was one he dismissed. Now as he held the Princess, he wondered if he should have taken the conversation more seriously. His ignorance and pride had cost him the Princess’ happiness and the blood of those closest to them both. The Prince would spend the rest of his life making up for his wrongdoings, to the ancient dragons who came before and watched over them, he swore it.

The Prince woke to a shift on his bed. The warmth and weight of the Princess was no longer on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw that the Princess’ back now faced him. He rolled to his side, turned her around and pulled the Princess into his arm, tucking her face into his chest as she cried. The Prince’s heart ached with each tear that struck his skin; he caused this pain.

The sound of birds chirping floated from outside the window. Specks of dust fluttered in the rays of the morning light with heavy and cold dread pressed into the Prince’s soul. A loud hiss followed by a small growl caught the Princess’ attention, and when she heard shouting from outside the window, she pushed away from the Prince, scrambling out of bed. She rushed to the window, nearly tripping over her own two feet and threw her upper body out the opening to get a better look at where the sound had come from. In the distance, unfamiliar guards were chasing after a small tiger cub.

“Cookie!”

The Princess’ voice was shrill, sharp with a protective warning that made the guards freeze in place. The small green and yellow tiger cub yowled loudly before it started to sprint in the Princess’ direction. Cookie’s nails dug into the rough stone work as he scaled the side of the wall and Princess Keena grunted as she pulled him up into her arms. Cookie licked at her cheek and she frowned as the cub’s body shook in her arms.

Prince Yoongi rose from his bed and walked over to the window, standing behind the Princess. His hand found the small of her back without a second thought, second nature now as he offered silent comfort to his heart personified. The guards outside stood before the window and waited for the young royals commands. The Prince narrowed his unobscured eye and curled his upper lip, his fangs gleamed in the early light.

“You have caused great distress to her Highness, explain yourselves.”

The Prince’s words were to the point, his voice weighed down by sleep but sharp nonetheless. The white gauze around his right eye added a severe reminder of the Prince’s deeds the night before. The guards trembled before the Prince and bowed low, their torsos bent into a ninety degree angle.

“Speak!”

The guards jumped at the Prince’s sudden command, while the Princess leaned into the Prince’s chest. The warmth that radiated from her body was soothing and as the Prince inhaled, zesty tangerine stung his tongue and fizzled at the back of his throat while sun-sweet honey dripped over his mind. Easy, relax, one step at a time. Prince Yoongi’s thumb stroked over the fabric of the Princess’ robes as he reined in his rage. The guards were the wrong people to direct his anger to.

One of the guards straightened to his full height but refused to look any higher than the window’s ledge and as he spoke, his voice wobbled.

“A-Apologies, Your Majesty. We were in the middle of a changing of the guard when Her H-Highness’...pet escaped from its pen.”

“Who authorized your entry to Her Highness’ chambers? It was made clear the night prior that she was to stay by my side.”

The guard’s shoulders tensed and Yoongi licked over his fangs as his nails started to sharpen. Thin gold rings circled the Prince’s iris and the Princess shifted against the Prince. Now, Princess Keena stood beside him, tucked into his side with Cookie secured in one arm while the other rested against his chest.

“Easy, my Prince. It was a misunderstanding-” Princess Keena turned her attention to the guards before them and raised an eyebrow, “surely you learned your lesson? There is no reason to enter my chambers whether I am present or not. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The Prince’s face twisted into a deep set scowl. A verbal warning would not be enough but before he could speak up, Princess Keena dismissed the guards and pushed him away from the window. Prince Yoongi allowed for the Princess to guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He sat down and pulled the Princess in between his legs, wrapping his arms around her waist as he held her in his tight embrace. Princess Keena released Cookie and the cub crawled about on the bed, before the tiny creature made itself at home on one of the Prince’s pillows.

“You must control yourself, my Prince. Tension is high and it will only increase as the news of His Royal Majesty's sickness spreads.”

Prince Yoongi lifted his face upwards to the Princess and stared at her silently for a moment. The golden ring around his eye was gone and his nails were once again blunt as they dug into the fabric of the Princess’ robes. He clung to her and sighed, unsure of where his mind was. His father was dying and there was nothing the Prince could do to stop it. He and Agust had all the power in the world but neither one could cure the emperor and extend his life.

Princess Keena watched as the Prince’s brow furrowed and his lips turned downward, whatever smile there could be hidden under the weight of current events. The earthy sage and spicy ginger was rotten, left out to spoil in the scorching chill of despair. Slowly, the Princess raised her hands, her fingertips grazed the Prince’s jaw, his cheeks, the apple of his eyes and his temples as she traced a map of his face, careful of the bandages. The Prince’s eye fluttered closed and his head fell forward, pressing into the soft fabric that covered the Princess’ stomach.

“My Father will take his sickness to the grave. He will pass on without any others knowing the truth.” Princess Keena’s fingers carefully worked their way through the small tangles in the Prince’s messy hair as he spoke and he melted into the tender touch. “A peaceful and sudden death, something only he knew of and prepared for ahead of time.”

Prince Yoongi tilted his face upward once more, his chin now rested against the Princess stomach and he blinked slowly, his blurred vision grew sharper with each movement. The Princess’ eyes were a little puffy from her crying earlier.

“I should be comforting you, my gem.”

“And you are.”

“Am I?”

Princess Keena nodded her head and used her nails to lightly scratch against the Prince’s scalp.

"Plis pase ou konnen, Prince mwen.”

Her words were comforting in their own right and Prince Yoongi felt his heart lighten from her reassurance.

"Ou fè byen."

Princess Keena laughed at the Prince’s words and nodded her head.

“As do you, my Prince.”

A sudden purr caught the young royal’s attention and when they looked to their right, Cookie was sound asleep, on his back and curled into a half moon while his tail hung off the pillow. The Princess giggled while the Prince cracked a smile and clicked his tongue.

“I do not recall ever sleeping that well in my own bed.”

“Cookie can sleep anywhere but his love for pillows is a weakness.”

On the other side of the palace, a wooden structure stood alone on an isolated island covered in green leafy vines. A pale grey path made from different sized stones led from the rear of the palace to the rarely used structure connected by a single wooden bridge. The building was in the shape of a crescent moon, open in the center for all to see. The island housed criminals from petty theft to murder and even treason. Currently, the cells held members of the Princess’ guard and handmaids. Hoseok and Aga were celled together and sat in silence while they waited for judgment to be passed.

Aga worried for the Princess; he did not know who stood in place of the guards that were locked away with him nor of the maids that were looking after her. Hoseok had known Agust in the past a lifetime ago. He remembered how fierce and loyal the dragon was. Both the Prince and the Princess were safe with him lurking in the depths of the Prince’s soul but he couldn’t stop the bobbing of his leg as he waited. The attack and attempted abduction of the young royals was planned. It was no mere coincidence and Hoseok silently vowed to himself to kill whomever targeted his friends.

The maids were locked away together, their faces puffy and tear-stained. The rest of the guards were thrown into individual cells; all were silent and tense. The cells weren’t luxurious, made of wood and stone, unforgiving and cold. Hay was thrown onto the ground and did little to offer comfort. In the center of the prison a beautiful stone mosaic in shades of greys, tans, and blues added some color to the gloomy atmosphere. Four wooden posts, spaced out evenly in a straight line, sat in the center of the prison, and stood eight feet tall. The wood was marred, stained with blood, and indented from being struck many times over.

The sound of pebbles crunching underneath heavy footfalls caught everyone’s attention. Daehyun, the general of the royal guard, was flanked by four guards on either side. They filled the center of the prison and stood tall. Daehyun’s dark eyes were emotionless as he looked around at the full cells. A guard on his right pulled a scroll from his waist and handed it to Daehyun without a word. Hoseok took notice of the hanboks worn by the guards outside of the cells. The colors were a silent and bold warning. The hanbok that Daehyun wore was simple, a plain black robe with white gladiolus flowers stitched along the cuffs and collar with a red changui on top, and the same white gladiolus stitched on the collar, down the center and the hem. A wide black belt with matching gladiolus was tied around his waist and a jumeoni sat at his right hip, opposite his sword. The other guards were dressed in the same manner with the red and black colors switched.

Daehyun held the scroll in his hands and opened it slowly before he held it up to read out loud. Hoseok held his breath as Daehyun started to read what would be their punishment if any of them were found guilty of treason or otherwise. Last night, as everyone was arrested, Hoseok had known that everyone needed to be interrogated and that it would take time, at least two days before the final punishment was ordered. The charges that were read out loud were attempted assassination of the royal family, attempted kidnapping, attempted sexual assault, and espionage. The charges were severe and if found guilty, those involved would be executed by beheading.

Daehyun explained how the investigation would be carried out and he offered a small word of reassurance that those who were not found guilty would maintain their respective positions once the investigation was wrapped up. The guards left all together and Hoseok’s lungs wouldn’t expand. His chest was tight and his mouth dry as he processed the charges, leaning back against his cell wall. Aga folded his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue as he fingers squeezed into tightly wound fists. He vowed to kill everyone who chose to target the Princess with his bare hands. He understood the need to interrogate everyone, but holding him in a cell put the Princess at risk.

Aga’s gaze fixated on a small ant that struggled to carry what looked to be a crumb across the cell. He thought about everyone locked in the cells and glowered. Everyone was close to the Princess, they laughed with her and made her feel safe. Could any of them truly be traders? Aga cursed and threw his head back against the cell wall with a heavy thunk.

Daehyun was on a mission of justice. He had watched the Crown Prince grow from a hatchling to a young fledgling. He had taught the Prince how to notch an arrow, how to ride a horse, and swing his first sword. The attack on the Prince was an attack on the palace and all of those who swore loyalty to the crown. Daehyun would find out who harmed the Crown Prince and when he did he swore to the great dragon above, there would be nowhere in the greatest depths of Hell that would keep them safe.

Daehyun walked the halls with his hands fisted at his sides, his eyes were narrowed and he glared at everyone that dared to make eye contact. As a human, Daehyun was known for his fierce swordsmanship and his overthinking mind. He connected the farthest of dots and had sent many lives to the Hells below. Daehyun was a force to be reckoned with, and as he stood outside of the Prince’s chambers, the guards before him bowed low. He stood proud, his back ramrod straight as he stared down the length of his nose at the men before him.

“I have come to speak with His Royal Highness.”

“Hyungwon is seeing to His-”

“He will see me.”

The guards looked at each other and Daehyun crossed his arms over his chest. He stood in silence as the guards debated the outcome of turning him away but before they were able to speak their peace, a loud and boisterous voice called out to Daehyun from farther down the hall.

“General Daehyun! What brings you to His Highness’ chambers?”

Daehyun knew the owner of the voice before he turned his head and offered a polite smile.

“Strategist Kim, it would do you good to-”

Daehyun bit off his words as he turned. Seokjin was dressed in a handsome hanfu of all white with bamboo leaves of monochrome green embroidered on the collar and hem of the robes. A green outer robe was worn over top and left open, with wide butterfly sleeves that hung low to the ground. Beside him, Namjoon, the royal gardener, dressed in a dark green hanbok with even darker green leaves embossed on the sleeves of the jeogori. A white joggi with green and black clematis was worn over top to break up the colors.

In Namjoon’s arms, he carried a large basket full of different flowers and plants that Daehyun couldn’t recall the names of. Namjoon looked powerful, more self-assured as he kept in step with Seokjin and looked Daehyun right in his eyes. Daehyun looked from Namjoon to Seokjin and noticed a stack of books neatly tied together in his right arm.

“I see you brought offerings for His Highness.”

“Nothing of the sort,” Seokjin laughed and pointed to the basket in Namjoon’s hand, “Hyungwon requested medical herbs and Her Highness is at his bedside. I thought a few written words from worlds away could help pass the time.”

Daehyun frowned. He heard of the Prince’s injury but had yet to see it. A few brave souls whispered but none out right spoke of what (if anything) they saw.

“You are requesting an audience with His Highness?” Namjoon finally spoke up when he noticed the way Daehyun eyed the basket in his hand. When the older man nodded, Namjoon extended his arm and the guards before them opened the doors.

“After you, General.”

The three men entered the Prince’s chambers together. The sitting room was empty with only a handful of maids scattered around cleaning. The shortest of the group hurried up to the trio and bowed, “I will inform His Highness that you have arrived.”

“Give this to Hyungwon. There is no need for him to wait while the General speaks to His Highness. We will wait out here, out of the way.”

Namjoon handed over the basket and Seokjin rolled his eyes but said nothing more as Daehyun followed behind the small maid.

“You are far too kind to that man, Namjoon.”

Namjoon shrugged his shoulders and lowered himself onto the settee before him. He leaned back and crossed his ankles before he looked up to Seokjin, who refused to sit.

“Elders, no matter their disposition, are shown respect.”

Seokjin shot Namjoon a deeply unimpressed look at his choice of words. “Elders? You disrespect me with every breath you take,” Seokjin gripped and Namjoon raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“He put Hoseok behind bars!” Seokjin squawked, indigent; his face was red as he glared at Namjoon and the stack of books shook in his hold.

Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, unbothered by Seokjin’s misplaced rage. He understood the others' emotions and reasoning behind said emotions, but he couldn’t agree. Hoseok was next in line to defend the Empire. He was to put his life on the line for Yoongi and yet, under his very watch, the Prince as well as the Princess were taken and harmed. Hoseok would be the biggest suspect, right next to Aga, in the investigation.

“He followed his orders.”

Shouting, though distorted and muffled, creeped from a crack in the door of the Prince’s bedroom and Seokjin swallowed thickly. The walls were shaken by a threatening growl, the door thrown open in haste and shortly after, and General Daehyun rushed out. His face was ashen, all color gone, and Namjoon rose to his feet in concern while Seokjin stepped back in alarm. Daehyun fled from the room without a single glance in their direction and the same short maid from before appeared with a gentle twist to her lips that reassured Namjoon the Prince’s anger was of no consequence to them.

Namjoon led the way to the Prince’s inner chamber and he bowed deeply to Hyungwon who stood behind a wooden work bench that hadn’t been in the Prince’s chambers before. The coiling scent of feverfew, ginger, white willow and chamomile sunk into the fabric of Namjoon’s robes as he stepped farther into the room. The heavy smoke of charred danbannite stung Namjoon’s nose and his vision honed in on a wooden rack of white cloth that was placed at the Prince’s bedside. The lavender and yarrow that the bandages were steeped in made Namjoon’s throat itch.

The Princess was perched on the edge of the bed, her knees bent and tucked underneath the skirt of her iro. The pale ice blue that she wore was soothing to the eye and stood out against the Prince’s crisp bedding. The buba was creamy grey brocade fabric, smooth and cool to the touch. Namjoon noticed that the Princess’ hair was twisted into a simple updo with a matching blue brocaded head scarf wrapped loosely enough that two single braids hung down on either side of her face.

A silver hairstick peeked out from the side, three blue aster flowers, their petals made of blue grey spinel jewels that twinkled in the light. A silver phoenix clutched the aster flowers in its claws and from its beak a golden lantern rested with thin gold tassels hanging from the bottom as small dumortierite beads glittered and clinked together. A little to the right of the Princess, Cookie rested with his large wet eyes locked on Seokjin and Namjoon.

In the center of the bed, Prince Yoongi was nude down to his waist, his hips and below covered by thick bedding. He sat upright with his back supported by a stack of pillows. Right away Seokjin rushed to the empty side of the bed and stared wide-eyed at the Prince.

“Your hair!!”

The Prince sighed and ran a hand through the short blonde strands that rested unevenly against his jaw in some places, “It’s short. I know.”

“B-But-”

“It will grow back in time, do not worry. Hyungwon has sent for the groomer, he will fix it.”

Seokjin opened his mouth to protest and closed it after a short moment. His dark eyes darted over the rest of the Prince’s face and a frown appeared on his lips as he took in the white bandage that covered the Prince’s right eye.

“Did you need anything of me?” Prince Yoongi questioned, his tone slightly fatigued.

Seokjin sighed and shook his head, “We came as soon as we could. You may be the Prince but you are still our friend.”

Prince Yoongi nodded his head and sighed when Hyungwon walked over to the bed with a bowl of ointment in his hands. The Prince looked between the bowl and his friends who watched him in concern. Princess Keena cleared her throat and all attention shifted to her as she smiled softly.

“Thank you for the herbs and books. As you can see, His Highness is in need of rest.”

Seokjin rose to his feet, his ears flushed as he stumbled over his words.

“O-Of course! We’ve overstayed, forgive us. Namjoon, let’s go!”

Seokjin bowed to the young royals and Namjoon shook his head, “Before we go…Yoongi, I must ask. Do you recall our time in the forest?”

The Prince stared at Namjoon and thought back to when they had found the gardener surrounded by the blood of the men who killed Jungkook.

“I do.”

The two men regarded each other with a knowing look and the Prince licked his lips quickly before he cleared his throat.

“I grant you permission to do your own investigation-”

“What-”

The Prince held his hand up, silencing Seokjin’s protest and continued on, not once taking his eye off Namjoon.

“There is a traitor amongst us. Stay vigilant and return unharmed with your findings at the day’s end.”

Namjoon’s eyes, a deep brown, had a bright green ring around the irises and he bowed low.

“As you command, Your Highness.”

Seokjin stood beside Namjoon confused as to what he had witnessed. He had questions and he knew they would not be answered in the current environment. Clearing his throat, Seokjin bowed once more.

“Do not hesitate to call on me if you require more books. Rest well, Your Highness.”

Namjoon and Seokjin left the room with their heads held high and the Prince’s whole body sunk into the pillows as the door clicked shut behind them. Princess Keena took hold of the Prince’s hand and laced their fingers together, a silent comfort while Hyungwon started to unwrap the gauze from around the Prince’s eye. The eye itself was intact, from the way the blade sliced the Prince’s face, but the eyelid and surface of the eye was damaged. Hyungwon created a concreted medicine that needed to be dripped into the Prince’s eye twice a day to heal the surface.

Hyungwon flipped through many books and read over scroll after scroll from sunrise to sunset in order to find a cure for the Prince’s vision but he found none. The Prince was now blind in his right eye and Hyungwon intended to speak with the Empress about how best to accommodate the Prince after he was done with today’s visit. The skin around the eye was tender and inflamed, an angry reddish pink where thin black threads of stitching held the skin together to help heal the wound on the highest part of the Prince’s cheek, which refused to heal on its own.

The herbal mixture in Hyungwon’s hand would sting a little and burn the inside of the Prince’s nose, but with the Princess by his side, he could ignore the harsh smells and focus on the soothing scent of honey-dipped tangerines. The Prince’s face pinched into a deep-set frown as Hyungwon carefully spread the ointment onto the damaged skin and the Princess started to hum a song from her childhood.

“The wound is healing quickly. In two days, I can remove the stitches.”

“And my sight?”

There was a pregnant pause at the Prince’s question and Hyungwon struggled to meet his eyes. Princess Keena rested her cheek on the Prince’s shoulder and pressed the tip of her nose into his neck, nuzzling against the warm skin. Bitter ginger softened slightly and Prince Yoongi licked his lips with a wince as the corner split.

“Finish with this and leave.”

“As you command.”

In the conference room, Empress Eunkyung sat at the head of the table among the many counselors and tutors in attendance with the young otter hybrid, Youngjae, at her side as a scribe. Empress Eunkyung knew of the Prince’s upcoming coronation and with that would come the royal wedding to Princess Keena. Today, those in attendance were to discuss the Princess’ merits and where they felt she needed to improve before the wedding.

Emperor Chyungho was working closely with Seokjin’s mentor and current advisor, Lee Dongwook, a highly respected kitsune, to create a guide of sorts for Prince Yoongi to reference when he felt unsure of himself while still learning his new role. The Emperor had great faith in his son and those that he surrounded himself with, however, words from the previous ruler wouldn’t hinder the future.

Dongwook was an intelligent scholar, filled with great wisdom and ever greater wit. Some would say that he passed on his humor to Seokjin, as well. He was a tall man with auburn hair that hung just above his shoulders in loose natural curls. His brown eyes were tinged with red and glowered in the firelight, a trait that all kitsune’s shared as great foxes. Dongwook often let three of his tails be seen at all times and it was only during war that all nine white puffs were fanned out behind him. Unlike the Princess’ guard, San, who only had four tails and never showed them to anyone outside of his sleeping chambers.

As the Emperor and Empress worked separately to create a brighter future for the young royals, Namjoon sat with Seokjin in the fifth garden. The area was secluded, encased by thick bushes that acted as walls. In the center a decent-sized pavilion rested against the soft backdrop of winter hazel trees, the yellow petals scattered on the plush green grass. Forsythia bushes with their bright yellow flowers sat in clusters around the entrance of the garden with red and orange marigolds planted along the stone walkway that leads to the pavilion.

It was here in the garden that Namjoon decided to share his secret with his lifelong friend and explain how he intended to help find the traitor amongst their ranks. Seokjin sat beside Namjoon and listened, keeping silent as Namjoon recounted the grief of losing their favorite tree Moni and how he had come into the powers of Esrym the hamadryad.

“What have I told you about experimenting with Jimsonweed?”

Seokjin's face was pinched into a doubtful scowl and Namjoon shook his head. He looked around the garden and inhaled deeply before he turned his attention back to Seokjin. Namjoon closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the familiar brown was now a stunning green that gleamed like the grass after a light misting of rain. Seokjin inhaled sharply; he knew better than to question what he was looking at. Namjoon had no time to play any tricks and Seokjin noticed a faint glow that came from the younger man’s skin.

“What does this make you? You are no longer human?”

Namjoon blinked. His eyes were no longer green and the soft light that came from inside his body faded. He crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed at his chin in thought. He never really considered himself anything other than human. To Namjoon, he was still the same person he used to be, only now he could do more for the land that he cared for.

“I am still myself. I bleed just like you.”

Seokjin hummed at Namjoon’s words, “Are you mortal?”

Namjoon’s arms fell from his chest and he looked at his friend. The silence between the two lasted for only a moment before Seokjin shook his head.

“What do I care? Your newfound status doesn’t change a thing between us. You are still you and I am still me, correct?”

Namjoon nodded his head in agreement and Seokjin gave a single nod in acceptance.

“Can you converse with the wildlife?”

“Not all of them. Insects are the only ones that I can fully understand, the others just give me a…feeling?”

“A feeling?”

“I find myself having trouble explaining it well. Take Cookie, for example. I cannot understand him at all but I know when he is feeling happy or if he is upset by something.”

“Joon…I can look at the cub and tell if something is off.”

Namjoon shot Seokjin an unimpressed glare to which Seokjin waved him off.

“How do you plan on helping Yoongi figure out who has betrayed us?”

Namjoon rose to his feet and Seokjin followed after him a few steps behind. They exited the pavilion and followed the path to where Namjoon knew a colony of ants lived. He squatted down upon seeing a few, and Seokjin watched as Namjoon pressed the point of his index finger into the grass. Two ants crawled up and stood on Namjoon’s knuckle as he brought his finger to eye level.

Two sets of antennae wiggled in front of Namjoon as he spoke softly, “May I ask a question? I would like some help if you have the time?”

Seokjin watched as the same dim green light from before seeped from Namjoon’s exposed skin and he pretended to admire the flowers in order to trick anyone that might come by.

“Friends of mine could be hurt for something they had no involvement in. By chance have you seen anyone strange come into this garden? Have you heard any guards or anyone at all talk about hurting the Empire?”

The ants on Namjoon’s finger crawled around, their antennae moved wildly, and Seokjin kept an ear out for any footsteps while Namjoon conducted his integration. After a few moments, Namjoon lowered his finger to the ground and the ants crawled off him. Seokjin shivered in disgust but kept his mouth closed as Namjoon rose to his full height.

“We need to find the beehive.”

“What did they tell you?”

“Two people come here to exchange letters in the early hours of the morning. The notes are left between false bark on the tree. The bees should know more.”

Seokjin seemed skeptical but followed after Namjoon to find a beehive. If he could save Hoseok and stop other innocent people from being hurt, Seokjin would do what was asked of him, logic be damned. Together the two men searched the garden for the beehive and Seokjin found it within the branches of one of the winter hazel trees. Namjoon called to the bees and four came out of the hive. They flew around Seokjin and greeted Namjoon with a happy dance around his head. The dimples on Namjoon’s face sunk deeply into his cheeks as he bowed his head at his flying friends, and Seokjin couldn’t believe his eyes. Namjoon had not fabricated his story; the young man before Seokjin was indeed blessed with the magic from a hamadryad.

“Thank you for giving me your time. I am in need of your help.”

The bees sat in Namjoon’s upturned palm, their tiny bodies swirling as they answered his questions.

“There were two people, I believe them to be men, that come into the garden often. Have you seen them? Do you recall their appearance?”

“Ask them if they can remember anything strange that might have been said,” Seokjin chimed in and Namjoon smiled. It was a good inquiry. At Seokjin’s question the bees had an answer and it made Namjoon frown.

“They say that there are three men and a woman that visit frequently at night. Two of the men speak another language that they have not heard before.”

“A different language?”

Seokjin’s mind jumped to Aga and the Princess but he quickly dismissed the thought. He saw just how much the Prince cared for the Princess and vice versa, there was no way that she would betray him. Seokjin didn’t know much about Aga but he doubted the guard would ever put the Princess at risk. Seokjin mentally smacked himself for a hidden bias that he didn’t know he harbored within.

If Namjoon had the same thought, Seokjin was none the wiser. The two were confused and tried to understand what the bees’ words meant. The palace grounds were filled with many races, most still spoke in their mother tongue when alone or with their families and friends. Hearing another language outside of Laibic wasn’t uncommon. Sirens, Oni, Elves, Unicorns, and even humans from other lands all had their own mother tongue. If the traitors spoke another language, it wasn’t a fact that would bring them closer to being found out.

“Can they remember any of the words?”

As the next royal advisor, Seokjin was well-versed in many languages, and he was still learning. Maybe the traitors spoke a language that was uncommon within the palace. While the grounds were diverse, the ratios weren’t even, and often only a handful or two of one race lived within the palace walls. The bees jumped around in Namjoon’s hand and Namjoon nodded his head in understanding.

“There is one word that they men kept saying vaxikauxa. Does that mean anything to you?”

Seokjin spoke the word slowly in his mind. He let the sound and syllables roll around on his tongue before he spoke it out loud three times. It was a language he wasn't as familiar with but he had heard of it before; at least he thought he had. The sound was smooth with a roughness that sat heavy in the vowels. Vaxikauxa? Seokjin repeated the word once more and shook his head.

“I will scour the records for any mention of this word. I will come to you myself with my findings.”

“Do you have any clue? Any at all?”

Seokjin dissected the word in his mind, pulling apart the sound and breaking down the basic lettering in the Laibic language. After a few moments of silence and being unable to translate the word, he knew most of the letters were pronounced differently in another language. That made things harder to understand. If the word was in Eippiliya, the Oni’s mother tongue, the vowels would have a completely different pronunciation than if it was a Lazin word in the Elven language. There were too many factors at play and Seokjin wasn’t sure, so he shook his head.

“I am unsure of the spelling and depending on which land this language comes from, the meaning could be any number of things.”

“I understand. Forgive me for not walking you back. I must continue on with my own investigation.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes and waved off Namjoon’s words, “I don’t need you to accompany me, Namjoon. I will find the answer and come to you. Hoseok’s life is on the line, I will not fail.”

The sun was sinking below the horizon. The blue and white sky, warmed in soft tones that resembled a fresh peach before the temperature cooled and night slowly teased along the outer edge. Daehyun collected his intel and conducted his investigation swiftly, all members of the guard were questioned and their statements were cross-checked. There were still a few loose ends that Daehyun had to wrap up but that would be finished within a day’s time.

Locked away in his office, Daehyun wrote up a report for the day's finding. He planned to report back to His Majesty and His Highness tomorrow after he continued with the end of the investigation. Having their blessing to punish those who wished to harm the Min Empire and failed at their sworn duties was all Daehyun needed.

A knock at Daehyun’s door caught the commander’s attention and he called out for whomever to enter his chambers. A messenger from the prison stepped into the room and bowed before he offered Daehyun a letter. The commander took the paper and read over it silently. It was a request for his presence by Minho. It seemed that the guard had something to confess.

#yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #daechwita!yoongi #dragon!yoongi #bts fantasy au #fic: blackthorn ch 17 #soc yoongi

23 notes · View notes

daegusita · 7 days ago

Text

@/agustd ♫

-142 ♡

I miss my yoongi so bad..how about you guys? 😭

16 notes · View notes

nahomysobalvaro · 1 year ago

Text

˚｡ ⋆🦢🎧🕯✧ .˚

280 notes · View notes

screamlet · 26 days ago

Text

"old school" comfort fic recs

tagged by @liminalmemories21 and @rcmclachlan

What are your old school comfort fics? The ones from fandoms that haven't been active in yeeeaaars, but you've read so many times you can practically quote them.

big big BIG caveat: lol. these are not old school fandoms, as such, but the truly old school ones i grew up with died with livejournal and del.icio.us. however!!! all these fics are 5-10 (or more) years old and that's about as old school as my bookmarks get.

i don't have tumblr usernames for these authors, but if they're around let them know? or don't!

fandoms covered: bts, check please, hockey rpf [all archive locked], star trek (aos and rpf), and the untamed

---

BTS happy that we met each other (jinkook, @/fictionalmissp, @/pearlowrites)

Jungkook is trying to adjust to life after military service. Seokjin is dealing with his recent divorce and being a dad. Everyone is trying their best.

someday we'll know (rapline ot3, @/fadetomorrow)

Six years ago, Hoseok walked away from Big Hit and an opportunity to debut as part of an idol group. He's worked hard to build a name for himself halfway across the world when he and the people he left behind collide again.

rivers and roads (til i reach you) (namseok, @/undercoverjikooks)

Namjoon is a lonely, anxious businessman who finds comfort and peace in sex worker slash grocery store clerk Hoseok, who's convinced that he's only worth leaving.

Should Never Fall So Easily (namseok, @/murderoustannie)

It’s not that Namjoon sleep-walked into his relationship with Hoseok, exactly. Mostly because that would imply a total lack of pain and embarrassment, giving the whole ordeal a dream-like quality to it that Namjoon doesn’t think it deserves. But if you asked Namjoon how it happened, exactly, he would have a hard time pin-pointing it.

---

CHECK PLEASE! for all of the perfect things that i doubt (series) (kent parson centric, mostly kent parson/omc, @/idrilka)

and in that series: no lightning, just thunder (kent parson/omc)

At thirty-five, Kent wins his fourth Stanley Cup. Two months later, he retires from the NHL.

Lord, What a Difference a Day Makes (kent parson/alexei mashkov, @/coffeestars)

Kent time travels (he thinks; it’s either that or he’s gone off the deep end once and for all), gets married to some Russian guy built like a tree, acquires two children, one of whom isn’t even his, freaks out, and grows up. In that order.

---

HOCKEY RPF

double digging for the successful transplant of organic cultivars (michael latta/tom wilson, @/rest)

Tom likes working with his hands, but it is a solitary life. He would much prefer to be married. Leaving and settling elsewhere is his surest chance for having that. (aka "The Space Western Mail Order Bride AU")

love on a deposit of frozen pleistocene carbon (nicklas backstrom/alex ovechkin, @/saintsideways)

Sasha is the only person to have lasted more than a year at Wrest Island Arctic Research Station, except, of course, for Dr. Bäckström. Or: Sasha's head over heels, in a slightly more than figurative sense.

human resources (nicklas backstrom/alex ovechkin, @/babygotbackstrom)

Sasha knows he's going to marry the angel who works in the finance department.

i want to belong here (sidney crosby/evgeni malkin, @/cathedralhearts)

“Can I come to Russia with you?” Zhenya’s brain fritzes out for a second. “Sorry?” he asks, thinking he’s misheard. Years of pining can do that to a person -- make you believe that the object of your affections wants something more than they really do. Sid’s gone bright pink and is staring at the floor, so maybe it’s not pining-induced insanity. Sanja will be pleased.

the light through the windowpane (tyson barrie/gabe landeskog, @/underwaternow)

or, the one where Gabe and Tyson fall in love, break up, Gabe gets married, Tyson falls apart a little, they don't speak to each other for awhile, and then they finally make up. colloquially referred to as “sad fic” but there's very much a happy ending

Big Horny's Guide to Finding Love (and Then Some) for the Modern Man (erik johnson/nate mackinnon, @/venvephe)

ExtraJuicy 🍑🍑💦 Both sporty and spicy. Not a horse girl, but likes to ride. Have a sense of humor and we’ll see where it goes. “Is that Grindr?” Gabe gasps out, and EJ elbows him deftly in the side as several heads swivel in their direction. Fucking Gabe and his big forehead and bigger mouth. “Erik Robert Johnson, have you learned how to sext?”

---

STAR TREK (REBOOT) strive seek find yield (aka SPOCTORIA) (kirk/spock, @waldorph)

Spock is heir to the Federation throne, Jim is Prince of America because his fucking brother abdicated, and the Klingons are on the verge of blowing shit up--a love story.

---

STAR TREK (RPF) merry bachelors (chris pine/zachary quinto, @/therumjournals)

Ten years from now, Zach reads a promising script. (Aka Chris and Zach make a movie about Cary Grant and Randolph Scott)

chris, nicky, and the nanny (chris pine/zachary quinto, @/thedanveresque)

Chris hires a hipster manny for his son Nicky.

---

THE UNTAMED all the time in the world to get it right (series) (lwj/wwx, @/belle_abroad)

on a rainy morning wei ying, debut novelist, ducks into lan zhan's bookstore, the quiet room, and never leaves. (lan zhan's heart. he leaves the store, a couple of times.)

#fanfic #fic rec #bts fic #hockey rpf #the untamed #star trek rpf #star trek

19 notes · View notes

ughobis · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, Can you do Hoseok username?

here u go !! ⭐️

• mojihoba

• tinyhobie

• strryhoba

• smileyseoki

• hobiekit

• seokibub

• 218lovers

• hobabbys

☆ fav/reblog if u save or use ★_<

101 notes · View notes

crystalsnow95z · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, could you do one where Namjoon is insecure about his looks and his position in the group so he goes on a crash diet and overworks himself. He passes out and the other members take care of him.

Oo these are the types of stories I can write quickly, I got an obsession with angst lately.

The seven boys gather together in the hotel room, doing a quick live after their concert that ended an hour ago. Namjoon sits on the floor with Hoseok to read the comments that fly by, Namjoon's eyes catching his name in the comments.

The boys were eating food that staff prepared for them, chatting with army until they finished eating.

"What are we eating? Ah..I'm not entirely sure what its called.. I think this is ox tail. It's really good." Hoseok shows the camera the food on the chop sticks before popping it into his mouth. "This is my first meal today.."

"Me too, me too." Jimin says between bites of noodles.

OT6JJSJVJ:[Namjoon you're too fat to sit in the front you're blocking Jungkook. Move to the back.]

7wUArmy:[Leave Namjoon alone. He's probably stressed because they lost against that soloist again.

OT6JJSJVJ: [RM is too busy focusing on writing cringe lyrics to lead his team properly. He should let Hobi or Jin be leader.]

Namjoon looks away from the screen, not wanting to look at the comments. I'm leading my team as I've always done.. it's true dance practice doesn't go too well without Hoba there, but I can keep everyone in line..

Hoseok notices the sadness in his eyes, reaching over to touch his knee, unsure on what he read. The long English comments go too fast for him to read. "Make a heart if you read this?" He makes a hand heart. "[Love you army. What is every one is doing?]" Hoseok tries to speak English to get the international army answering his questions.

Vminkooker13: [I'm in class]

NIRAGRAPOPO: [I'm studying Korean. It's super hard..]

OT6JJSJVJ[I'm just watching six cute boys]

"Six? No. Not six. Seven. Seven." Hoseok catches the comment.

Ot6JJSJVJ: [I only see six cute ones and one pig.]

Namjoon recognizes the username from earlier, knowing it was them they meant. He stops eating, placing his chopsticks down. He weighed himself last week and noticed he gained five pounds, but he thought nothing of it since he was working out so much.

"[Ah, korean hard? Same..same with English..]" Hoseok answers the comment he read.

"[Keep practicing. You can do it. I..uh..believe..in you.]" Jimin cheers them on. "Fighting."

"[English is so hard..]" Jungkook agrees.

"[Good luck!]" Taehyung cheers.

Namjoon smiles softly and cheers up by hearing the younger members attempt English. "[Learning a new language isn't easy. Thank you for attempting to learn. It means so much to us.]"

MICMICBUNGEE: [you should teach the others English for us I-army. Felix and Chan got their members speaking English.]

"[Hey, hey. Stop. Stop.] It isn't Namjoon's fault we aren't good at learning it. He does his best to teach us." Hoseok defends his leader.

"[Leave.] Leave now if you are going to talk that way." Yoongi says curtly.

"[Reset. Reset chat with Purple heart. I want purple heart.]" Taehyung requests making a heart with his his hands, not wanting to see any more argument.

"Heart, please?" Jungkook asks, relaxing when the comments are flooded with hearts, blocking out all the comments.

"Let's send only love." Jimin tells the chat.

RockVison: I love you Jimin-sii

PaRtYYeeah: I love you BTS

Lobeyourself: I love you Namjoon. You're the best leader in kpop!

The comments flooded with love, but the damage was already done. Namjoon pretended to go back to eating, but he only picked up a few noodles with each bite, looking at his image on the screen.

He looked to be a healthy weight, but when he looked at his image compared to Taehyung, seeing the younger member stretching revealing a bit of his small waist, he grabbed the cushion he was sitting on to hold, covering his body.

I need to start dieting..

"What's wrong Namjoon-ah?" Yoongi asks leaning closer to Namjoon to talk by his ear, whispering while Jimin and Hoseok talk to the chat. "Is your stomach bothering you?"

"Ah, a little bit.. I think the food is a bit too greasy for me.." Namjoon takes the opportunity to stop eating.

"Wash up and get some sleep when we turn off the live.. I'll bring you some medicine." Yoongi whispers, leaning back on the couch.

Chim13: Namjoon-sii is cute with extra weight. I love my gentle giant.

Namjoon read the comments again, giving a forced smile when he sees another comment about his appearance. "I look cute? Thank you. I'll probably end up losing it, though. We have a really tight schedule this month."

"Everyone's finished eating but Jungkook? Since this is his hotel room, we can leave him eating,but I'm tired. I'm going to my room. I love you guys.." Yoongi bows, dismissing himself from the live, trying to get the others to follow suit.

"We have a flight tomorrow so we should all go." Jin gets the hint, all seven brothers saying good bye to army, sending their love before shutting off the live.

"Good night, guys. See you in the morning." Namjoon is the first one to leave. Its still a bit early.. I'll do a quick workout before washing up..

Namjoon takes a deep breath, trying to stop his body from shaking. I forgot how hard it is to diet.. I need to get some water..

"[BTS, this is your first concert in America in two years. Are you guys nervous?]" One of the MCs asks, looking at Namjoon standing in front, but Namjoon jumps in surprise, not noticing that the man approached him.

"Ah, nervous..yes..but..so excited!" Jin covers for Namjoon, speaking into the mic. "[Right, guys?]"

"Yeah yeah!" The others cheer behind them.

"[This will be a good warm up for you. Will you tell me what song you'll be performing?]"

"Sorry hyung.." Namjoon murmurs, taking the mic back from Jin's shaky hands. They were invited to iheart award show and left earlier than most of the staff, leaving Namjoon in charge of translations. "[That's a surprise for Army..]"

"Nice. Nice. So you won the biggest fanarmy for the past few years, do you think you'll win it this year as well?" The man asks.

"[I mean.. it is called the fanARMY award. We are so grateful for our fans. We would be nothing without them.." Namjoon's words make the crowd around them scream. He was grateful for Army their voices covering up the sound of his stomach gurgling. I should've eaten more than that apple this morning..please let that be his last question..

Namjoon hardly ate anything in the past five days, and it was catching up with him. He had to clutch the mic with both hands to keep his hands from trembling, feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him, feeling dizzy.

I don't know if I can perform like this..I'm so tired..

"I'm looking forward to seeing your performance. Good luck!" The interviewer leaves to their next guests, the members being shuffled forward for a photo.

Namjoon keeps one arm around Jin's shoulder to keep balanced, forcing himself to focus on the camera. Jin can feel Namjoon trembling, but he doesn't say anything until they make it to the back room.

"Namjoon-ah are you feeling okay?" Jin asks with concern. "You're shaking.. are you sick?" He touched Namjoon's cheek. "You feel cold.."

"I'm not sick. Don't worry. I'm fine, I'm just super nervous and very embarrassed. I didn't notice him approaching.." Namjoon answers honestly.

"You don't look well, Namjoon. I think you're getting sick. Try to take it easy today, okay? We'll take the lead from here, okay?"

"Alright, Hoba." Namjoon agrees easily. For the past few days Hoseok was already contributing the most during the meetings alongside Yoongi.

Maybe he would be a better leader than me. I can't even diet and focus on work at the same time..

"Sit here, I'll go get you some water." Hoseok pushes him into a seat, motioning for Jin to follow.

"Do you think he's sick?" Jin says softly, already guessing what he wanted to talk about.

"I don't know, that's what I wanted your opinion on. He hasn't been coughing or anything.. he just seems really tired." Hoseok gets a water from the mini fridge, poking Jungkook with it. "Give this to Namjoon for me?"

"Sure hyung." Jungkook takes it, going over to their leader.

"Do you think we're doing too many practices? Should we cut our night practice shorter? Taehyungie and Jaykay look like they've lost weight, too.." Hoseok frets over his younger members, seeing Jungkook's broad back but small waist as he walks away.

"I don't think it's a problem. Jungkook and Taehyung seem fine, it's only Namjoon who's exhausted." Jin gestured to the three youngest Jimin giving the hair stylist a hard time as he continues to role play with Taehyung, pretending to be shot in the chest, stumbling back a few steps.

Jungkook rushes over to Jimin to save him, placing his hand over the 'wound.' "Jimin-sii! Jimin-sii hang in there."

"Kids stop giving noona a hard time." Yoongi scolds them. "Wait until she fixes your hair to play."

"Okay Suga-hyung.." Jimin says with an apologetic smile, taking a seat.

Hoba handles dance practice, and Yoongi can control the younger members better than I can. What I'm best at is interviews, but I've been messing up lately.. am I still cut out to be their leader?

"Namjoon-sii, your in ear. You haven't set yours up yet.." Jin approached him, making him jump.

"Aiish..! Ah. I'm sorry, you startled me.." Namjoon blushes when he sees the other members look in his direction.

"Are you okay?" He asks while he helps get him hooked up, leading the wire to go up his shirt and through top, stretching it to his ear.

"Yes. Everything's fine. I was just deep in thought. Thanks, Hyung. I do the rest myself.. " Namjoon bows slightly.

"You're lying to me Namjoon-ah. Something's bothering you. You know if you want to talk about it, I'm here. We all are. Okay?" Jin says in a soft tone, rubbing Namjoon’s back.

Namjoon was tempted to tell him how awful he felt, how he's only allowed himself to eat one small thing like apples and small chicken breasts a day while keeping up with his workout routine and their busy work schedule. But, he couldn't get himself to do it.

We need to focus on the performance, I don't need them messing up because of me..

"I'm just a bit depressed, I'm okay.." Namjoon felt his stomach knot with guilt, making him feel even more nauseous than before.

"[You guys are up next.]" A staff member calls into the room, saving Namjoon from the oldest member's prying. "[You have four minutes.]"

"[Thank you.]" Namjoon gets to his feet to bow, then gathers his members. "We need go. We're up next.. we have less than 5 minutes."

Namjoon takes a deep breath as he walks with the other members towards the stage, listening to the crowd screaming. He feels Hoseok's fingers wrap around his shoulder, looking at the worried 94er.

"We're doing Fire..you could do this song blind folded.." Hoseok reassures him, squeezing his shoulder. "You don't have to be nervous.."

He's right.. I know this song inside and out.. I've done it hundreds of times.. he seems to always know the right thing to say..

The members calmly walk towards the front of the stage, the music starting as soon as they make it to their positions.

Namjoon tried to keep the same energy as the other members, but it felt like he was moving in slow motion compared to them. He pushes himself harder to keep up with the others, ignoring the green haze that blurred his vision.

My verse is coming, I need to pull myself together, I'm making my team look bad..

Namjoon takes a deep breath, moving to his position. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears, making him miss his cue, stuttering over the first word before recovering.

His anxiety spiked, only escalating how awful he felt. His body swayed when he moved to the next position, his vision tunneling until everything faded to black...

Namjoon's eyes slowly flutter open, feeling the prick of an IV leaving his skin.

"Namjoon-ah you're awake.." Jin sighs in relief, reaching to take Namjoon's hand. "When you fainted like that, you scared me.."

"What happened to you, Hyungie?" Jungkook asks with concern. "Please you need to tell us what's wrong so we can help you.."

"I'm sorry you guys..this is all my fault.." Namjoon's voice comes out softly, tears swelling in his eyes. "I just..wanted to be someone you and Army could be proud of.."

"What do you mean? No one's disappointed in you. Everyone here is proud of you.." Yoongi says genuinely.

"We just want to help you get better, but we need to know what's wrong. Please Joon, what's going on with you.. you've been pushing yourself too hard." Jin says with a mix of frustration and concern.

"Do you remember that live we did? The one we ended early? I read a few comments and.." Namjoon pauses, feeling ashamed that he let them get to him. Jin rubs his thumb across the younger’s knuckles, encouraging him to go on. He looked around the room, seeing all six of his brothers waiting patiently for him to continue, their eyes filled with worry.

Namjoon takes a breath, slowly releasing it before finishing. "I'll be okay..I..I just need to eat.. I haven't..had a real meal since that live.."

"Oh, Namjoon.. baby, you have to eat.. you need at least one meal the way your lifestyle is.." Hoseok's voice didn't have a once of judgment over Namjoon’s actions, only concern for his friend.

"I know.. I'm sorry.. I just couldn't do it.. I felt so sick after that live.. I ended up throwing up that night.. i just.. I dont know. I felt guilty..like.. every time i looked in the mirror..I saw that i was bigger than i used to be..The scale was going down, but i wanted to be as good as i was when i first debuted..." Namjoon admits, struggling to get the words out.

"It's okay, Joon, you don't have to explain yourself.. just let hyung take care of you. We'll get you a proper meal, and once you're doing better, we can get you on a healthy diet." Jin speaks calmly.

"We can go on a diet together after this tour. Right now we need to keep our energy up. Okay Joonie?" Hoseok sits on the bed next to Namjoon, wrapping around him.

"Hoba?" Namjoon says his name, leaning into him

"Yeah?"

"Do..do you think I'm the right person to be the leader?" Namjoon asks meekly, not looking at him.

"Where did that question come from? Of course you are. We decided you were the best choice in the beginning and my opinion hasn't changed." Hoseok reassures him. "Just because you need help doesn't mean you aren't cut out for the position anymore." Hoseok spoke honestly.

"Namjoon-ah, I never once thought of you as a bad leader. You're only human, you'll make mistakes and you'll have bad days, but if I were leader or Seokjinnie hyung or Hoba or whoever.. they would too. Don't let those antis mess with your head. You are the one I want to follow." Yoongi explains to Namjoon in a serious tone, remembering the live and how they cut it short. "I know I wouldn't be able to handle the stress.."

"Oh me neither.. I already have enough work with choreography. I don't think I would've made it past the first year if I were given a leader role. I almost quit during our training days." Hoseok adds in.

Namjoon felt the weight that was holding him down, lifting from his chest hearing the praise of the older members. "Thank..augh.." he winces when he feels his stomach cramp with hunger. "I need sonething..."

"[Sir, is it okay for us to go?]" Jimin asks the medic

"[If he fainted from malnutrition, then he should be fine to go, but if you start feeling dizzy like that again go to the hospital to get another.]" The man tells him.

"Let's go get something to eat." Jimin says, his own stomach growling at the thought of food.

"Let's order cheese burgers." Taehyung says eyes already round with anticipation "But we can have whatever you want hyung."

"That sounds amazing.." Namjoon smiles.

#bts #bts boys #bts fanfic #bts namjoon #bts jhope #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts jimin #tw disordered eating #tw fainting #sick rm #bts sick namjoon #bts sickfic #bts sickie

25 notes · View notes