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jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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yoongsisbae · 3 years ago

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Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 3

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung. This is the "vampire chapter" :'D

Thank you for all the love on this random nightmarish story lol. This extra update is for all the readers who made it my most popular post! Thank you! <3 Also this is my contribution to the start of the spooky season :D

Warnings: Hi, remember when I said this was horror? This chapter in particular is pretty horrific, you have been warned! blood, fighting between m/w, blood, graphic violence, blood, imprisonment, blood, blood, blood, minor character death, vampires doing vampire things including noncon blood drinking, human imprisonment, mind manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubious consent, slut shaming, anal, degradation, foursome, orgasm control, orgasm denial, what a ride, you must be over 18 to ride this ride, scary scary scary

Word Count: 22k

---

“Scared, y/n?” Jimin’s face sends you a wicked smile.

You look back and forth between the men, uttering an unconvincing “No.”

Seokjin speaks again, “You should be.”

---

‘So did you get the answers you are looking for?’ You sit up, jolted out of your sleep, Hoseok’s words echoed softly in your mind.

Seokjin moved so fast, his striking face in front of you in an instant, his red eyes centimeters from yours, delicate lips curving into a smile over his fangs as water splayed around where he stood. That was the last thing you remember.

He smiled down at you sweetly and held you by the neck, putting pressure on your vein until you passed out. It all happened so fast your scream remained halted until this moment. The response came out of you abruptly, as fleeting as the memory.

And now where the hell were you? It looked like the room of an old bed and breakfast; large bed, writing desk, love seat, high windows; but to your captors the breakfast on the menu was you.

The first thing you notice is how the curtains are drawn together blocking the sunlight, but you know it’s there, just out of reach, as evidenced by the small line of light that trails its top edge. The room you found yourself in was dark, from the wallpaper to the furniture, the stillness unsettling, you listened as your own rapid breathing filled the silence.

You were seated right in the middle of a king size bed. They left you atop the cleanly-made white bed sheets, a treat placed in the center of a platter. You shiver, your clothes still remained damp from the night before, cold and stuck to your skin. That is why you shiver, you tell yourself, because you don’t hear them, but you feel them...watching you...

You build up enough courage to scan the room, and that’s when you see two pairs of red orbs staring back at you from the corners’ shadows, glowing in the darkness. Eyes of beasts, watching you, studying you.

You try not to react, not show your captors how scared you are, but every mechanism in your body betrays you, and the pair immediately pick up on your rapidly beating heart, the sweat on your brows, your unsteady breathing-

“Good morning, y/n,” Seokjin says, walking out of the shadows. Jimin stays hidden, but you can hear his soft laughter.

Those answers you wanted, where are they?

Seokjin slowly moves to the edge of the bed. “It seems like our friends have taken quite an interest with you and I want to find out why. Is that okay?”

You purse your lips, keeping your eyes trained on the thin strip of light showing at the top of the window curtains. You sit in silence. Has your breathing always been this loud? The shaking of Seokjin’s legs, a sign of his growing impatience, rattles the bed and your resolve.

He clasps his hands together, finally saying “If you don’t want to speak to me,” he leans in slightly and whispers the rest, “I can always let Jimin pry information out of you, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that very much.”

The pounding of your heart and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach makes you feel like you’re going to become sick at any minute, but you manage to form a coherent sentence to ask him, “What do you want to know?”

“First, I want your permission to find out,” he speaks softly, placing a gentle hand on your calf, but you flinch away anyways. That’s a loaded question if you ever heard one. You wonder if it’s all an act, the same way Jimin fooled you. You stay silent.

Seokjin sighs again, looking over his shoulder, “Jimin?”

“No!” you yell. “Not Jimin! You...you, okay I give you permission.”

“Thank you, y/n.” He smiles, “I’ll be gentle.”

You yelp. Seokjin’s cold hand travels down your leg, wraps around your ankle and pulls you down the bed closer to his body, and in an instant his lean frame is hovering over yours. This close, his beauty is intimidating alone, but his eyes feel like they are piercing through you, digging inside, seeing all the ugly secrets you try to hide from even yourself, you feel like you could catch fire the way his gaze burns you.

He holds you down loosely by the neck, fingers searching for a pulsing vein, eyes focused on you with the concentration of a doctor performing surgery. Seokjin wipes away the tears that begin spilling from your eyes and smirks, “Don’t cry Dove, I promise this time will be the least pain you’ll experience from now on.” His words are devoid of any real sympathy, a false comfort, a looming warning.

You consider fighting back, but in this position there is no way you would be able to reach for your dagger (hidden away in a secret pocket in the front of your corset) without Seokjin stopping you, and even if you were lucky enough, there’s still Jimin, waiting in the shadows.

So you choose to wait, and try to find comfort in Seokjin’s twisted words. It could be worse. A tiny voice inside you reminds you it will become worse. You’ll just have to escape before then. You take a deep steadying breath, preparing yourself.

Don’t cry.

Seokjin’s lips latch onto your neck, soft and full as he rolls his tongue harshly over your pulse point. Goosebumps bloom across your body, and you try to focus on the sunlight rather than the vampire above you and his overwhelming aura, that sliver of light that you pray won’t dim.

This could be worse. This could be more painful. This could be Jimin.

Seokjin can feel the jumping of your pulse against his tongue. The vampire wants to know your story, what is it about you that riled Jimin up more than he’s ever seen him. But with your sweet scent enveloping him and the cocktail of emotions Seokjin’s keen senses could smell: fear and anger and mounting arousal, you smelled better to him than the finest wine and he can’t stop himself from teasing you a little longer, drink it in just a bit more and savor the moment.

Seokjin still understood the importance of ‘living’ in the present, he enjoyed taking his time with things. Others would have gone mad by now with the infinite amount of time, but not Seokjin, he used it to his advantage. Your warm body, your addicting smell, the softness and saltiness of your skin, the shifts in your breathing, Seokjin took his time to savor the gifts of life that he still missed.

You try not to react to his sensual touches, tensing your body under him, until you feel two sharp pricks on the surface of your skin. Your reaction is involuntary, you grip the bedsheets with your fists and let out a soft cry, moving against him. His bite hurt for only a second, like a pin prick, but Seokjin in his precision had nicked an artery for optimum bloodshed. With each gasp of breath you take, with each pounding beat of your heart, you feel your blood drain as it escapes the punctures in your neck and into Seokjin’s waiting mouth.

Seokjin groans against your skin, sending fire through your veins, pressing himself harder into your body. The vampire is better at keeping his physical responses to blood drinking at bay than Jimin, but he hasn’t had a new taste in awhile, and you’re so responsive.

When he pulls away from you you reach to cover your neck and stop the blood, a reflex in an attempt to save your own life, but Seokjin grabs your wrists before you can, pinning you to the bed, studying, his red gaze challenging you.

You gasp as the blood rushes out down your neck, over the sheets, seeping into your clothes. ‘They’ll underestimate you...’ Yoongi’s words replay in your mind and you stay still. No matter how much you want to fight back, this time you have to be smarter, you have to believe in Yoongi’s words.

Jimin has stayed quiet for this long, staying in the shadows, but your whimpers and grunts of pain are music to Jimin’s ears, the blood pouring from your body like an offering to him. His groans can be heard from the shadows.

He holds himself back for now, waiting for his turn. Jimin wonders where all that fight went, he had expected a show, for you to thrash away from the older vampire like you did the merman. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed. When it’s his turn, he thinks, you’ll become more entertaining then.

You watched in silence as Seokjin licked his lips clean of your blood. The red liquid that he had stolen from you, that was now steadily seeping from your wound and covering the white bedsheets underneath you, like a Rorschach picture mapping your life. “You’re strong,” he grins, speaking too tenderly for the brutality he was inflicting. “Stop fighting and it will end sooner, y/n. Let me into your mind.”

What does that even mean?! In your blood loss the tips of your fingers begin to feel cold like your captor’s, your head pounds and your vision blurs with each passing moment as the blood drains from your artery, you don’t want to give in, but if it will end this torture...

You shut your eyes tightly, and turn your head to expose your bleeding neck further to the monster above you. When Seokjin lowers his lips to your neck, you try to think of sweet Jungkook instead, his warm body instead of Seokjin’s cold one. You didn’t dare wish to be with him again, you didn’t dare think you made a mistake, that you should have stayed. Now all you can do is hope you can save him and yourself from this horrible island. Jungkook doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned with the likes of them.

Seokjin drinks the warm liquid pouring from your throat. You listen to him gulping down your blood, How much longer, until he finds what he’s looking for? You feel your fight escape you with each swallow, you feel yourself slipping away. It reminds you of drowning, it reminds you of Yoongi and how he kissed life into you instead, but this was the kiss of death.

‘Yoongi,’ you close your eyes and think of him. And then you felt it, the pull inside your mind. Your current circumstance falls away in shambles, your memories are pulled out of you through the cracks, the images race through your mind as Seokjin bears witness to it all.

---

Yoongi sits at the table, hair and clothes dry, turning his head to see you awake.

The relief that softens his features as he’s walking to your side.

The delicate way he places the hairpiece back in its place.

The way his eyes melt at your words.

Why hadn’t you seen it before? Seokjin saw it all. The way Yoongi screams at you, the rage and embarrassment in his eyes as he tells you how much he can’t stand you, the way he licks his lips when you yell back. His eyes studying you when you yank him closer, full of anger and full of-

You weakly push against Seokjin, you don’t want to remember, you don’t want to miss him. You can’t stop it, you can’t stop the memories flooding through your system.

You suddenly remember Jungkook’s sparkling round eyes watching you, wanting you, the crinkle of his nose when he laughs, the pink flush on the edges of his ears when you talk to him, the muscles of his arms flexing as he cages you under him, his deep groaning in your ear, the vein in his neck when he pushes into your wet heat, the truth in his voice when he says he’ll protect you.

You feel Seokjin’s hands travel down your body the same way you remembered Jungkook. You curse him in your mind, but your body couldn’t tell the difference, your stomach tightens and you’re no longer cold, warmth spreads over you to the tips of your toes.

You want to scream, scream for Jungkook, but you’re frozen, lost in your own thoughts, confused by your senses. Jungkook feels as real as Seokjin, but you know he’s not really there, no matter how much you wanted it to be true.

You remember Hoseok’s harsh looks, the growing anger in his eyes, the hurt in his eyes, the pain in his eyes, the pain still present in his eyes even in his wolf form when he howls and cries at you. He’s begging you to stay, he’s telling you he can’t bear to lose someone again. How could you leave them? Why can’t they be enough for you? Hoseok will treat you better, if you just stay with him, please. You understand his barks and howls now, because Seokjin understands. Tears well up in your eyes and you try to move away, but Seokjin is too solid, too powerful, and unyielding in his search.

Namjoon’s eyes are on you as you eat next to his brothers at dinner, filled with nothing but warmth and happiness. Those brown eyes, you miss them. You feel dizzy and helpless, you can’t take it anymore. You grab a fistful of Seokjin’s hair to try to pull him off of you.

“What have you done to Jimin? What have you done?!” Namjoon’s voice roars in your memory. But it’s not any memory you remember having. Before you realize what you are doing, your hands hold on tightly to Seokjin’s hair, pulling him closer and holding him to you so you can see more.

---

“It-It wasn’t me...” The tall vampire is covered in blood. Some of it is Jimin’s blood, yes, but the majority of blood that drips down his face and hands, that covers his clothes, belongs to five other men. Dead men. Men who beat the broken man in his arms to the brink of death.

Seokjin found his dear friend screaming in pain. He saw them over Jimin’s bleeding body, blood Seokjin treasured just as much as he treasured his bond with the compassionate and playful man. His friend, Jimin, who wailed for Seokin, for Namjoon, for Hoseok, for Taehyung, for anyone to help him, while his bones cracked, lying in the dirt, choking on his own blood, precious blood.

Seokjin explained to Namjoon when he saw them laughing, like hyenas over a carcass, spitting hateful slurs down at Jimin, he couldn’t control himself. Seokjin tore them apart one by one. He chased each one down like the pathetic animals they were, and tore the limbs that touched his dear friend straight from their bodies.

Seokjin had been weak, he had become too accustomed to the harmonious life he and Namjoon had created for themselves. Had it been decades before, he would have endured, but living with the pack had softened him too much and he couldn’t stand the pain of losing Jimin, so when he found a weak pulse he gave Jimin as much of his venomous blood as he could.

Namjoon simply nods at the information, his weary eyes examining his two friends, friends who were like family to him. He didn’t want to lose Jimin either. “We need to take him somewhere safe...to the island, before he wakes up,” Namjoon places a hand on the trembling vampire’s shoulder.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” the vampire’s voice shakes, he notices the cuts on Jimin’s face and body have yet to heal themselves.

“That’s not something you should be worried about,” Namjoon runs his hand through Jimin’s tangled hair, gently placing the dark strands back into place, his eyes filling with tears, “it’s when he wakes up, we need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Seokjin nods weakly.

“Go now. I’ll clean up the mess, brother.”

Your hands fall, the blood loss making you too weak to grip onto Seokjin’s hair. Seokjin had taken more blood than he intended, lost in his own memories.

The vampire pulls away from you, even as the edges of your vision blurs, you see his eyes, glowing red and glassy with unshed tears, staring at you with a mixture of pain and surprise. He shakes away his bewilderment and rips into the flesh of his wrist, placing the cut across your lips as you can no longer hold consciousness.

---

When you wake again it’s night time, the light behind the curtains has left you.

Your body aches. You run your fingers along your neck, searching for the punctures, and you can only feel smooth skin crusted in dried blood. Your head feels like it’s splitting. You groan in pain.

You see Jimin before you hear him, and even then you’re not sure if your brain created the sounds to ease your mind as he stalks closer to your waking form.

“Finally! Now what could you have possibly done to Jin?” Jimin says, contemplating the reason his friend holed himself up in his office, refusing to speak to Jimin or even look at him.

He jumps on the bed, shaking your already pounding head. “He refuses to let me bite you,” he whines, “Explain now, pet.” Jimin prods you with his foot. “Explain what memory of yours Seokjin pulled.”

You just groan back, turning away from Jimin, burying your head into the cold pillows of your bed, one of the few things not soaked in your blood. Everything is so cold you can’t stand it. Jimin places a hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Cold fingers touch your skin, everything is cold.

“Don’t touch me!” you pull away from him, yelling.

Your face stings. Jimin had slapped you hard, you come to the realization only after the fact, the skin he touched burns hot. It makes you laugh, because you wanted warmth, didn’t you?

Jimin’s eyes narrow on you, “Say that again, I dare you.”

You bite back tears and ask, “What the fuck happened to you?!”

“So you’re back to being a disrespectful brat. You’re not on the same level as me, human. Learn to behave.”

“No! What happened to you to make you so heartless? What changed you?” How did the bleeding man you saw Namjoon cry over in Seokjin’s memories become this monster? He was human at one point too, you wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t see it for yourself.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “Don’t act like you know anything about me, bitch.”

You take a deep breath trying to calm your temper. Not only had you seen Seokjin’s memories, you had felt his emotions. His pain lingers in you still, beside the fear and hatred you feel, you look at Jimin and feel...sorry for him. You have to look down, the emotions are too much and too overwhelming. It was easier when all you knew was the monster before you. Jimin takes your silence as obedience instead.

“Now can you be a good little pet and answer my question,” he says, tapping you on the head hard enough to make your headache roar back to life. You flinch and search the eyes of the man before you. Or rather the shell of a man, you think bitterly.

And what a beautiful shell it is. Jimin is stunning, bright white hair pulled away and styled so you can see the delicate features of his face. He holds himself gracefully, like a dancer, his elegant figure hiding his true strength. You wonder what he was like before turning into a monster, what kind of man was he? Someone whom Namjoon cared for.

“It wasn’t my memory...you. I saw you…” You whisper, knowing Jimin’s sharp senses can hear you loud and clear, “I saw Seokjin turn you.” Silence falls over the room again, a silence so deafening you start to hear the pounding in your head becoming louder.

The vampire stares at you, soft features stoic. He looked lost in thought, you pictured his face full of cuts, bloody lip, black eye, human, and Seokjin so unsure, scared, worried, trembling, so unlike themselves now.

“How did he turn me?” It surprised you how genuine Jimin’s question sounded. Did he really not know?

You keep your mouth shut, you don’t think it would be wise on your part to tell him. Jimin seems like the type to shoot the messenger. Unfortunately, unlike Seokjin, Jimin had little to no patience. His expression changes like lightning, full of anger. He pulls you by the hair dragging you off the bed and onto the floor.

The vampire crouches over you and grabs your face, holding you down to the wood floor, pressing his sharp nails into the skin of your cheeks making you yell.

“Ahh there’s your voice! Tell me.”

“Why don’t you ask Seokjin?!”

“But I rather you just do as I say,” he says playfully, as his fingers dig harder into your skin, cutting the flesh and drawing blood.

“Why don’t you just bite me, then?!” You spit the words out through clenched teeth.

You watch the vampire lick his lower bottom lip, thinking it over briefly as he pulls your face closer to his, you struggle against his painful grip. “How impetuous...” he watches you squirm like an insect stuck in glue. “You’re rather dumb, aren’t you?”

Should you reach for your dagger now? Should you try to kill Jimin?

Every time you thought about hurting him, you remembered Seokjin’s crying face, and you wanted to cry as well, what was happening to you?

“Jimin, leave us.” Jin stands in the doorway to your room.

Jimin stands up in a huff, letting you go. You fall back onto the hardwood floor. He balances on his heels, ignoring you and scrutinizing Seokjin. He wanted to question the older vampire, he has so many questions now, but decides against it. What does it matter anyways? The idea of being a weak and powerless human revolts him. “I’m getting impatient,” he says before he leaves, slamming the door and making you jump.

“T-thank y-you.” You try to calm your breathing.

Seokjin looks at you with a frown, extending his hand out to you. You hesitate and place your hand in his and he easily lifts you to your feet. You watch the older vampire walk slowly around the room, drawing his fingers along the furniture he passes. You stand awkwardly, you don’t think making a run for it would gain you any favors right now.

“I’m hungry,” Seokjin says. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, continuing to meander around the room, waiting for your response.

You clench your jaw. So this is what you’ve been reduced to, you think, a late night snack. “Are you going to just keep me trapped in this room? I’m hungry too, I haven’t eaten anything-”

“Dinner's already passed. Before I let you go roaming around, I need to make sure you’re going to behave yourself, do you understand?”

No, you don’t understand at all. It sounds like he’s going to starve you into subservience, and you have to get out of this room, you have to find the portal.

“I will do as you say...please...” you walk over to where he’s standing, trying your best to seem meek. “I’m starving,” you reason, “I’m sure you know how it feels to hunger for something” you say, turning your head to stare at the windows, curtains now open to the night sky, extending your neck to the vampire. His eyes are pulled to your attention, following the lines of your shoulder. You roll your neck, loosening the stiff muscles, moving close enough to him that your chest bumps into his. You look up into Seokjin’s eyes through your lashes, “I-I will behave.”

Seokjin smiles, bringing his head down into the curve of your neck, lips skirting across the skin. Your fingers reach up to caress the back of his head. You can see the pair of you in the bedroom mirror. Another myth proven wrong, you think, as you study your seduction, how his lean frame bends closer to yours, his arms wrapping around the lower part of your back.

In truth, Seokjin wasn’t hungry. He had taken more than enough blood from you this morning already, but Seokjin wanted to see if lightning could strike twice. Never had the pull been so strong for him that a human had been able to enter his memories, not even when Jimin was alive. He needed to learn more.

Seokjin licks your face, tongue tracing the cuts Jimin’s nails left behind. You hold your breath, trying to act like you enjoyed it. You hated it, you wished you could stick Yoongi’s dagger into Seokjin’s cold dead heart and be done with it already.

Seokjin trails kisses back to the place he bit you before. He keeps kissing your sensitive skin until his lips reach your ear and he whispers, “I’m not Jungkook, little Dove, you’ll have to do better than that.”

You stumble backwards but it’s too late, Seokjin already has you in his clutches.

He pulls you into a tight embrace, walking you backward even more. His bite is precise, you suspect perfectly precise to where he bit you this morning. Your arms are locked tightly in between your bodies as he holds you to him.

Thunder roars in your memory, you feel yourself drowning. Your muscles ached, your lungs burned. You feel Yoongi’s hand on your ankle, pulling down, hand on your waist, pulling down, hand on your neck, pulling you closer, his lips on your lips-

You cry and yell against Seokjin’s grasp. Cold turns to warmth as you see Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok laughing around the firepit, and Seokjin, and Jimin, laughing too. Yoongi sits with a calm expression on his face, his lips curved upward, and a man you don’t recognize sits next to him-

Seokjin yanks his mouth away from you and you fall backward, back hitting the bed while you struggle to breath. You cover the holes on your neck with your palm to stop the rushing blood.

“How?” is all Seokjin can say, shaken by the happy memory that even he had forgotten about.

You stare up at the high ceiling dazed and too weak to move, “Do I...” you can feel the blood spill between the gaps of your fingers, “look...” you gasp, “like a vampire expert...to you?”

Seokjin moves to the window, his back to you. He watches the waning moon and lets his mind wander to his old friends. If they were off the island, he could see a scenario where you and he would meet at a bar, laugh over drinks, but the ending would always be the same. “You look,” he looks over his shoulder at you, “like you could use a drink,” his lips curving into a half smile.

“Are you,” you gasp, “offering?”

He walks over to you slowly, bringing his wrist to his mouth, and then extends the sliced skin to your mouth, waiting expectantly.

You take his offering bitterly, gulping down the metallic liquid, the wounds burn like fire as they heal over. The pain is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. You shut your eyes tightly, you want to cry, or scream, but like Namjoon said, no one can help you here. You feel fingers intertwine with your bloody fingers, pulling your bloodied hand away as you weakly protest. The room spins, even if your wounds are healed, your blood is still gone and you’re feeling the effects of two feedings.

Seokjin brings your hand to his lips and licks away the blood, tongue circling your fingers. “This can hurt or it can feel good,” he says slowly.

You laugh, delirious from hunger and blood loss. “I wonder, that memory,” you gasp, still laughing, “does it bother you to be reminded of your humanity? Does it hurt you?”

You probably shouldn’t have said that, but the blood loss is doing funny things to you, or maybe you just really wanted to get a reaction from the guarded man, no, guarded vampire.

If your accusation angered Seokjin he didn’t show it with any emotion, instead he sighed and bent over you, biting down hard on your shoulder. The searing pain makes you scream. You cry out, not expecting the sharp and throbbing kind of ache from his bite as Seokjin’s teeth stayed deep in your flesh.

Seokjin pulls another memory out of you, and you curse your luck in remembering Jungkook again, remembering his tanned and muscled body next to yours. Jungkook kissing your knuckles and telling you how he’s yours now. Jungkook kissing down your body. His head between your legs, his mouth feverishly licking at your folds. The more you try not to think about him the stronger the memories feel. The pain in your shoulder dulls as your legs tighten around the vampire's sides.

Perhaps it was your bloodloss mixed with Seokjin’s bloodlust seeping into your consciousness, the memory of Jungkook’s length buried deep inside you and feeling of Seokjin’s growing bulge pressed against your stomach makes your head spin and you just want to feel more. You hear Namjoon’s deep authoritative voice whispering dirty things in your ear, it makes you shudder, a moan escapes your throat-

Seokjin pulls away from you abruptly at that, his eyes are deep red, so dark they look black. He watches as your body twitch in pain, as he focuses on calming the storm of human emotions, your emotions, running through him, as he tries to forget the compromising memory of his old friend. He bites down on his bottom lip until he draws blood, his blood mixing with your own blood in his mouth, and he presses his lips on yours.

You realized how passionate Yoongi’s kisses were compared to Seokjin’s. The merman was distant, but his actions were full of feeling, whether they be good or bad. Seokjin was cold in body and mind, a hard shell, you felt like you were kissing a statue as you choked on his blood, the liquid metallic and sweet.

You can feel the punctures in your skin closing, it hurts so much worse than when he bit you, you distract yourself by licking into his mouth, feeling his tongue against yours.

Seokjin jumps off of you the second your wounds are healed and leaves without saying a word. You can hear the door lock in your daze.

You scoff, what was up with him, you wonder, dining and dashing like that. The blood loss has you quickly falling asleep despite wanting to use the time alone to plan your escape.

---

They both leave you alone all day until night again. You wake up hungry and weak. When Seokjin wordlessly stalks towards you that night you tell him so.

“I still can’t trust you to play well with others.”

“I need food! I need to eat! I am not a goddamn vampire like you! I can’t survive off your blood!” You throw your pillow at him. Should you have done that? Probably not, but you’re too hungry to care.

Seokjin pauses, looks at the floor where the pillow lays at his feet after coming in contact with his chest. “I’ll bring you food later tonight, now lie down, I’m hungry too.”

Ugh.

---

There were so very little things now that intrigued Seokjin, and this connection had become a mystery he wanted to solve. The strength of his pull on you was so intense it had become almost addicting to feel for Seokjin.

A vampire's pull had always been one-sided, but this pull acted like a wave, crashing onto the shore of your consciousness, pulling back and forth, dragging his memories along the current too.

Promised food, you comply, lying down against your better judgement. You glare at him as he lies next to you, and he smooths your furrowed features with his fingers instead of matching your anger. It makes you feel self conscious, the way he watches you with searching eyes. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“So demanding, do you want me to bite you that badly?”

Is he teasing you? “No. I don’t. At all!”

“Okay then.” he lies back down, his arms underneath his head.

You sit up to look down at him. “Is this a joke?”

“I’ll wait, I don’t mind. I can wait for days, the question is can you?”

If you tried to stab him now he would definitely be able to stop you. Too bad. “I think I can’t stand you.”

“You barely know me!”

“I’ve seen enough,” you scoff.

“I’ve lived a long time,” Seokjin says, serious again, “you don’t care to see more? Who I really am?”

“Who are you?”

“Let me bite you and find out,” he winks.

'Well, he seems to be in a better mood,' you think. You wonder why he is even bothering to ask you, you’re his prisoner, after all. “So this is not just about feeding anymore?”

“I’m a vampire, of course it is.”

You sigh, you’re hungry and tired from blood loss. “Okay, bite me, but choose some place else,” you rub the sensitive spot on your neck and shiver. “NOT THERE!”

Seokjin stops pushing your legs open. “But there is an artery in your leg-”

Your face goes hot, you shove your wrist in his face. “Here then!” He sighs and lies back down again, pulling you over his body easily. You sit awkwardly against his lap as you watch his fangs prick your inner wrist. The blood loss this time wasn’t so bad, but it still made your weak body sway, your free hand bracing yourself against his chest.

He does the same thing to you again, pulls memories of your life. You saw memories from before the boat wreck to your childhood, and you saw glimpses of Seokjin’s life as well. You learned at one point in his very long life he stopped being a complete monster and became a part time bartender.

For decades he moved from taverns, to pubs, to bars. The perfect career, and as his beautiful looks were admired everywhere he went, he was never short of meal options. You woke in the morning and you laid on clean sheets, there was water for you and bread and butter and jam, an apricot and an apple, food not found on an island. The portal.

Tonight. This night you will be ready for Seokjin. You quickly realized you weren’t just remembering with Seokjin, you were feeling, and he was feeling too. If you could distract him well enough with a memory, you think you’d be able to escape!

---

Tonight Jimin walks into your room instead.

“Where’s Seokjin?”

“You didn’t miss me?” He holds a pear in his hand, throwing it up in the air and catching it easily. “He is busy, the others were feeling neglected by him-”

“There are others? Other humans?!”

Jimin smirks at your wide eyes. “Yes, pet, did you think you were special?” You swallow, keeping your questions to yourself. So Seokjin really meant it when he talked about playing well with others. Who were they and how long have they been here? Could some of them be your friends? Maybe you weren’t the only survivor on your boat! More humans, more people to help you fight against Seokjin and Jimin, if you could just meet them and somehow convince them...

Jimin heard your accelerating heartbeat, could see the happiness dance across your features. “What ever you are thinking, I suggest against it. Actually, go ahead and try, I haven’t punished anyone in so long.”

“Are you going to bite me or not?”

“Oh, so now you’re eager for it, it’s always the same.”

“Still not allowed, huh? Must suck to be you. Ha! Get it?”

“Do you think you’re being cute? Jin said I can’t bite you, he didn’t say anything about not hurting you.” Jimin throws the pear in the air again, “What? No clever retort?”

“I don’t know about Seokjin,” you speak softly, “but you used to be human, why do you act like this?” You watch as Jimin drops the pear on the ground and steps on the fruit with his feet. You bite your lip. What a waste. You consider pulling out your dagger just for that.

“Being human?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t remember anything about that. I can’t imagine being so weak and foolish.”

“You really don’t remember?” You look at the pear, squished into a pulp. “Can you do what Seokjin does, with the memories?”

“What makes you think I want to learn about your pathetic life?”

“No,” You idiot. You sigh. “But maybe you want to learn about your pathetic life?”

You scream, Jimin’s nails were digging into your skull, a handful of your hair in his fists. “Call me pathetic again,” he threatens lowly.

“Pathetic,” you say bearing your teeth. Jimin smiles, because in that moment you reminded him of someone. He’s going to enjoy breaking the bones of your body and watching your limbs reassemble again. He grabs your forearm, pulling your arm closer to your face. You wince as his grip tightens, struggling against his tight hold on your hair. “Call me pathetic again,” he sings, his eyes sparkling with delight.

You weigh your options in that moment.

“Seokjin!” you scream.

Jimin laughs, tightening his grip even more so you are sure to have bruises, “Do you think he really cares about what happens to you?”

“Jimin was a regular at your bar! Wasn’t he?!” You had seen the younger vampire, only briefly, you barely recognized him with dark hair, but you knew it was Jimin the way you felt your own heart soar when Seokjin glanced at him for the first time.

You screamed louder than you’ve ever heard yourself, making the vampire wince at your volume, because in that moment Jimin snapped the bone in your forearm. “Even if you don’t remember,” you cry, mumbling out the words through your pain, “you were human. Just. Like. Me.”

Jimin grabs your upper arm this time, and squirm in his hold. You start to cry harder despite trying to hold the tears in. The door to your room slams open. Seokjin looks furious when he steps towards the both of you.

“Jimin leave!"

“What?” The white haired vampire loosens his grip, but stands his ground. Seokjin doesn’t speak again, only gives him a look, and Jimin relents, breaking his stare with several blinks and releasing you. The younger vampire can’t hide his emotions as well as Seokjin and you see the hurt twist his beautiful features.

You sit on the ground grimacing in pain, holding your broken arm to your chest. Outside your room you hear the familiar crash of glass and scrape of wood and you suspect Jimin is not taking Seokjin’s orders well. Seokjin looks much more unhinged than you ever recall seeing him and then impassiveness washes over his face again, much to your disappointment.

“He is usually not like this. He can go months without drinking blood, it seems my ban has just made him all the more obsessed with you,” he sighs.

“Greeat,” you wince, “Lift the ban then, might as well.” If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious what would happen if Jimin bit you. Maybe then he wouldn’t despise you so much.

“The ban is not to protect you, naive little dove.” He sits down on the floor next to you. You find the sight comical, Seokjin in an expensive suit sitting on the dusty floor.

You roll your eyes. Of course. “You care a lot about him,” you whisper softly. He nods. You turn to him, “Do you remember why you started caring? Do you think who he is now still acts in the same way that made you care so much for him?”

“You think I’m a fool?” he laughs softly, “I know Jimin’s...lost his way...” You sit in silence as you struggle to take your mind off the pain in your arm. “For us, time, is infinite. This is only a small stretch of time compared to what I’ve been through. Jimin will come back around, I know it.”

“Well I think he’s a lost cause,” you mumble.

“He’s not, no one is...This is going to hurt a lot, if you don’t mind, I can make it quick.” His hand traces your jaw and turns your head to face him, eyes glancing towards your lips.

“Am I going to have to get used to this, you fixing the pain he causes-”

“Am I going to have to get used to you both provoking each other all the time?”

You bite your lip, he started it, it’s not your fault he freaks out over every little thing you say. You change the subject. “Are there really other prisoners here? Other humans like me?”

Seokjin tuts disapprovingly, “House guests, y/n! They can stop being in service to us whenever they want, we provide them all with a choice.”

“Oh, and what are the options, be your personal feeding supply or die?”

“Ahh see, you catch on quickly, and Jimin calls you stupid.”

Your eyes narrow on him, “Not much of a choice there.”

Seokjin leans into you, “it comforts them, when they think they have some control. You know, you would all be at the bottom of the ocean if it weren’t for us.”

You pull your legs closer to your body, it’s hard to look at him, much less listen to the disturbing things he says, “Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to be grateful?” You shuffle your body, trying to get comfortable despite the throbbing pain of your broken arm.

“Perhaps,” he scrutinizes your body, “At least don’t provoke Jimin. Ready?”

You hum, “Yeah, I’m ready for my medicine, Doctor.”

He looks down, nodding. “No anesthesia for this surgery I’m afraid.”

He motions you closer, bites into his wrist and fills his mouth with his own blood. You’re careful not to jostle your arm too much as you move in front of him. His long fingers hold your head still as he presses his mouth onto yours, feeding you his blood. Even when you scream in pain he holds you to him as your bone readjusts itself and heals back together, your body in excruciating agony. He holds you tightly, his mouth swallowing your screams until the process is complete, until you pass out in his arms.

---

You wake up to clanging silver. The light feels warm on your face, and then you feel nothing as the curtains are drawn. You open your eyes, ready to protest.

“Oh my god!”

The woman before you jumps at your words. “Your breakfast,” she motions to the tray.

“You're real, oh my god, it’s true! Help me! Please, we can escape together!” The woman stumbles away from you as you desperately try to hold on to her.

“What?” Why is she looking at you like that? Why is she acting like that?! She pushes you away as she opens the door. You’re too stunned, too hurt by this stranger who you thought could help you to question her when she says, “There is no escape.” She closes the door, locking you inside. What just happened?!

Now that you’re alone again you search the room from top to bottom, desperate now that you’ve realized you’re up against so much more. All the drawers are empty, not even a pen and paper in the desk. The window opens but that doesn’t help you because you’re several floors up. The bathroom has running water and the prettiest bathtub you’ve ever seen, so you give up and spend the day soaking yourself, in your clothes. The dress floating and surrounding you reminded you of a certain man, well, merman. No one visits you that night.

The day repeats itself six times. You try different approaches to try and convince the older woman to help you and every time she refuses or ignores you completely.

You don’t get it, you don’t understand, and her behavior disturbs you. You had asked her, “Don’t you want to see your friends and family again?! Do you have children? Or a spouse?” Her answer was, “I don’t think so.”

‘I don’t think so.’ She couldn’t tell you how long she’d been here either. The implication scared you.

You sit at the door, your ear to the wood all day. Sometimes you’ll hear footsteps, you know it’s not Jimin or Seokjin, because they don’t make any noise when they walk. Sometimes you yell and bang on the door waiting for a response that never comes.

One day you yanked down the drapery, opened the window completely letting all the sunshine in, and soaked it in like a cat. Before you woke up the next morning everything had been set back the way it was. It was maddening.

So one day you flooded the bathroom, just to see if anyone would come to stop you. They didn’t and the next morning the tub was gone. You cried all night.

For six nights you’re alone. The fifth night you dig into your dress pockets to find the tiny shell Yoongi gifted you. You tap it three times and wait, holding it to your ear.

“Y/n?” His groggy voice fills the sea noise. You can’t bring yourself to speak, or you would really break down. Hearing his voice was enough.

---

Before the sun sets on the seventh night there is a knock on your door. You’re already so close to the entrance you can hear the soft click as it unlocks and you swing the door open to see Jimin.

He smiled down at you, a picture of sin. The young vampire wore casual loose-fitting clothes, shirt hanging over his shoulders. He dresses so relaxed, so opposite to Seokjin, who wore his shirts buttoned up to the collar. All you wanted to do all day was talk to someone, be heard, but with Jimin here you feel like an animal cornered in a trap, and you want to hide.

He gives you a cocky smile and drapes his arm over your shoulders, dragging you back into the room. “Look at you! Perfectly fine, Seokjin always overreacts,” he whines, “I’m tired of waiting. I can trust you not to tell on me, right pet?”

The vampire presses himself against your back and wraps his arms around your waist, locking you to him, chin digging into your shoulder. You stand frozen against him, Jimin is excellent at making sure you feel like you’re trapped and powerless when you’re around him.

His nuzzles your neck, lovingly like a lover would, inhaling your scent. You craved human contact, but this man isn’t exactly human now, is he? Your stomach turns as the familiar feeling of fear bubbles inside you.

“And if I don’t?” you whisper, and his grip tightens around you.

“You tell me, what do you think will happen, if you don’t?” he mumbles against your neck, teeth grazing your skin and he moans softly. He wrapped himself around your body, caressing your curves, it confused you at how affectionate he was being, or was he just a snake constricting his prey?

Your stomach tightens, you were stronger than this, right? A week in time out didn’t work on you, right? You couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your lips every time Jimin shifted against you. You blame Seokjin’s fondness for him that must have rubbed off on you. You try to step away but Jimin pulls you in closer.

“I thought I was a disgusting human, are you the one who missed me, Jimin?” You ask him softly.

“There are things about you that are only barely revolting, I guess.” He can feel the shift in your mood as annoyance bristles through your body, it makes him smile. You are so defiant for being so scared, it makes him want to break you even more.

You’re scared, but deep down there was a part of you too curious for your own good, that just wanted Jimin to bite you, just to see why and what Seokjin was protecting him from. It would only be to your advantage, if that was the case, right? You stretch your neck to the side slightly to see what Jimin’s reaction would be. His fingers dig into your hips. “What’s this?” Oh no.

Jimin pulls the shell hidden inside your pocket. You grab at his hands, but he’s too fast, dancing around you as he pushes you away, pushing you to the ground.

Somehow you always end up here on the floor, at Jimin’s feet, probably exactly where the vampire thinks you should be. You’ve never seen him more excited, it twists your insides.

Jimin’s cold fingers inspect the tiny shell, tutting. He mouths the words, ‘bad girl’ silently. Tapping the tiny shell, he brings the shell to his lips.

“Yoongi, I know you’re there. Do you want to hear y/n?” He crouches next to you, lifts your chin so your eyes meet his, smiling as if you were playing along on an inside joke. “Do you want to hear her cries? Do you want to hear her moans?” his sinful voice sings tauntingly.

The younger vampire promised Jin he wouldn’t touch you, but Seokjin has so many rules, and this just proved you couldn’t be trusted, that you needed to be taught a lesson. Seokjin will forgive him, Jimin thinks, he always does.

“C’mon, Yoongi wants to hear you, y/n! I bet he misses you. Let him hear your pretty voice.” You just glare at him, staying silent. Jimin didn’t seem angered by your defiance, in fact, he seemed happy.

He pulls your hair, moving your face closer to the shell, his nails dig into your scalp, and you feel them pierce your skin. The pain causes you to let out a strangled cry. “That’s it!” You hold back tears as you glare at him, Seokjin is wrong, Jimin can’t be saved.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you grit out, scratching at his hand.

“Oh, no?” He releases your hair. You jump up but Jimin pulls you down to the ground again. Even as you kick and hit him, it’s obvious it’s not hurting the vampire. He easily pins you down, caging you in with his thighs, his knees pinning your arms to your sides. His fingers wrap around your neck, holding you tight as you grunt against him. You’ve become a mouse, trapped by a snake.

“Afraid yet?” You know he won’t kill you, it seems like torturing you is just too much fun for him. Jimin may be stronger than you, faster than you, but he’s as caged as you are, stuck on this island, leashed by Seokjin’s rules, acting out like a child.

“No.” He lets go and you heave in air, coughing. “Seokjin will find out, even if I don’t say anything. He said-”

“Jin,” he bares his fangs, “says a lot of things.” He brings the shell to his mouth again, “What bone should I break first?”

Jimin laughs, and you wonder what the merman said to him.

Jimin grabs your jaw, tilting your head to the side, reveling in your struggle. He places the tiny shell next to your ear. You try to silence your heavy breathing. “Yoong-g-gi?” You hear the ocean, the rumbling of the sea, and you hear-

“Y/n!” Yoongi’s voice rumbles through the tiny shell, he calls out to you, words rushed and worried, full of concern that has your heart dropping, “Jimin has a weakness, It’s T-” Jimin crushes the tiny shell between his fingers.

Jimin pouts, “I thought he would have used the opportunity to confess, now he’ll never get the chance.”

He moves away from you, “Well, aren’t you going to make a run for it? I didn’t lock the door.” He lifts his eyebrows up, nodding towards the door.

You lie on the cold hard ground stunned. Yoongi's gone. You think of a scenario where you rush towards the door, only to be stopped by Jimin as he tackles you again. No, you won’t do that. Jimin takes and takes, you're going to make it your mission to take from him. You stand up on shaky legs and walk towards Jimin.

“Actually, I rather you just bite me instead.” You’re not confident that he’d really go against Seokjin, so might as well egg him on. “Unless you’re scared of Seokjin?”

Jimin scoffs, jaw clenching in annoyance and eyes narrowing. “Any other cute little means of communication you tried to sneak in here, hmm?” He yanks you close to him again, his hands pull at your dress, wandering over your thighs, skirting dangerously close to your center. He smirks down at you as you pretend to act unaffected by the way his hands glide over your ass, kneading the flesh. His hands run up your corset, getting closer and closer to your dagger.

You run your hand over the front of his pants. It was the only thing you could think to do to distract the vampire before he found your dagger and really killed you. It worked. Jimin stops you, digs his nails into your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.

So without many other options, you send your quarrel with the vampire off into a whole other direction as you grab for the bulge in his pants. You feel the weight of him in your palm, your mouth drops a little at his size. Jimin’s jaw tightens as you rub up and down his bulge.

You’re stuck in a staring match with the vampire. Two stubborn beings, challenging each other to see who breaks first.

Surprising you, he spins you around and starts undoing the straps of your corset.

No, no, that’s the opposite of what you wanted! “What are you doing?” You try to wiggle your body to face him again, “Just fuck me already!”

Jimin cages you against his lean frame, crushing your body to the closest wall with his own. He inhales into your neck. He can sense the torrent of your spiraling emotions, he feels your hatred for him radiating off your body stronger than ever as he slows his advances down.

“You are acting more stupid than usual, pet.”

“You wanted to play,” you say, “Well, let’s play then.”

He’s never played this kind of game before, and you’ve enticed him, he has no problem calling your bluff. His hand runs along your cleavage, kneading the flesh.

Jimin pulls your dress up slowly, his cold hand running up your leg. You rest your forehead on the wall, shuddering when he drags his fingers across your center. “Your hands are cold.”

He pushes two fingers inside you, deep, you were barely ready for the stretch, crying out from the sudden intrusion and cold sensation. Jimin groans as you whimper against him, “Forget what I am already?” He licks your neck, fingers pumping in and out at a dizzying pace.

“How could I ever forget?” you whisper.

“I regret destroying that shell, I would have liked to let Yoongi listen to what a whore you are.”

Your body tenses and Jimin leans his body harder into yours, pressing another finger inside. “What would the dogs think, knowing their bitch is so wet for their enemy, hmm?” Making you angry is too easy, he thinks, and makes you smell so much better, sexier. Jimin is used to fear, he’s grown accustomed to desire, but your rage makes him ravenous. If Jimin wasn’t so consumed by his carnal desires, he might question himself as to why he wants someone to hate him so much, but all he can think about is how he’s going to drive you to madness with just his fingers. He resists the urge to bite you by sucking harshly on your neck, pulling the blood closer to your skin and leaving dark marks behind.

Before you have a chance at release he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and holding up the evidence of your arousal, the clear substance clinging to his fingers as he licks them clean, moaning in your face. The sight is depraved, and you can’t look away. He smiles smugly at you as he smells your lust surround him.

“I knew you wouldn’t bite me.”

“We will get to that, we’re playing a game remember? Or do you want to stop now?”

“All this talk and I still haven’t been bitten or fucked, are vampires impotent or something or is it just you?”

Jimin laughs, yanking your body to face the wall again and pinning you to him. “I’ll make you forget everything but my dick while I’m fucking you, you won’t have a single other thought in that pretty little head of yours other than giving me all your pleasure.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m waiting.”

Jimin laughs again, pressing three thick fingers deep inside you again, you legs go weak as he holds you up with the force of his body against yours. He drags his fingers out and higher until he’s circling your other opening. His digits press into both of your holes, filling you up completely as you cry out. You haven’t had someone give attention to that part of you in so long, you tense at the unexpected stretch. His thumb works against your clit expertly as he rocks his hand against yours. You feel so full and overwhelmed by Jimin. “So close already? Beg me to make you come, pet.”

“I’m not your pet.”

You take his torture silently, hold in your moans as he brings you to the brink of release and stops short of satisfaction over and over again. He thrusts his fingers in and out of your holes, until the tight stretch goes away, his fingers easily gliding in and out of your wetness, until the ache is replaced with a need for more. Your entire core pulsates as he slowly and torturously circles your swollen bud, changing the pressure just enough to drive you crazy by ghosting over your clit when you needed more and rubbing even harsher circles when it all becomes too much, his touch making you feverish and sick with desire. When you clench around his fingers, closer than you’ve gotten to release since he started this torture, he pulls out of you completely, pressing his hard cock, straining against the cloth of his pants, into your sore center.

“You smell so good,” he moans. You don’t want to think about Jungkook, you don’t want to taint his memory, but Jimin’s words are so similar. Jungkook is nothing like Jimin, but they are more similar to each other than to a human like you. Perhaps you are just as weak and pathetic as Jimin says, a human can be no match for a vampire, and you’ll never be able to win against him.

“Please Jimin...just let me cum...”

“Beg me.” His usual airy voice drips with arousal, and he presses his bulge harder into your wetness.

You don’t do as he says, you can’t, so he continues his torturous little game, until you’re moaning loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder, whimpering every time he stills. He pulls his fingers out of your dripping core, focusing his attention on your ass, thumb rubbing harsh circles into your throbbing clit, you feel so empty and painfully full as your sensitive walls clench around nothing and his fingers stretch your rim open for him. Your entire body vibrates, but you’d rather stay unsatisfied than say please to Jimin ever again.

Finally, as the sun sets and the last bit of light around the curtains disappears, Jimin realizes he can play his game no longer and pulls away from you completely. Your legs give out as you slide down the wall, mind finally free from the haze of lust Jimin kept you in.

“So weak,” Jimin tuts.

“...impotent...dick...”

“Pathetic slut.”

“I thought about Seokjin the entire time,” you whisper.

“...liar.”

---

You must have fallen asleep, you feel a hand cupping your cheek, and you open your eyes to Seokjin, blonde hair, red eyes, suit buttoned to the collar. You let out a small laugh, and then groan once the pain in your joints wakes you fully.

Jin carries you back to your bed. You tug on his sleeve.

“Please take the pain away,” you ask softly.

Seokin’s eyes search the expanse of your skin, “There are no cuts on your body.”

Groaning, you sit up and kiss the vampire who freezes against you. So you take the opportunity to straddle Seokjin’s lap, and start unbuttoning his shirt, kissing, licking, biting his smooth skin. Jimin’s harsh words replay in your mind and sting you. Screw him, let him think whatever he wants, let him hear you. This had been a part of your plan anyways, first Seokjin, and then you’ll worry about him, might as well have some relief too.

“What happened?” Seokjin asks as you rut into his body, tearing his shirt open. He doesn’t look upset that you popped the buttons, does he ever get upset anymore? You hastily unbuckle his belt. His hands cover yours, repeating his question, “What happened, y/n?”

You grab his hand and move it under your dress. Seokjin stills as his fingers come into contact with your thigh, slick with your wetness from hours of Jimin's teasing. His hands travel up your shaking leg.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, “...Did Ji-”

You silence him with a kiss. “Fuck me, I feel like I’m dying.”

Seokjin laughs against your lips, “Humans are so dramatic,” but he’s already pulling you closer, turning you around to lie on the bed. He bends down to your core, pushing your dress over your waist, you spread your legs wide open for him.

He licks your arousal from your inner thigh, fingers massaging your aching center.

“Ugh fuck, stop teasing me,” you whine. Seokjin fills you with two long fingers, pushing inside you to the knuckle. His teeth bite down on your inner thigh, it stings but your lust somehow lessens the pain. Your body tenses, you clench around his fingers and he speeds up, pulling more blood from your veins.

You flinch when you see Jimin again, reliving the memory from Seokjin’s mind. He’s half naked, kissing a beautiful woman who is fully naked, right in front of Seokjin.

Jimin looks so different, dark hair, flushed skin, tenderness in his eyes.

The girl lowers her body between the men, and fills her mouth with Seokjin’s hardening length. You feel yourself become wetter. Seokjin moans against your feverish skin, biting you for a second time, higher up your leg. It stings again, but you’re too busy trying to get off on his fingers to care about anything but release. Seokjin bites the mound of flesh close to your center, his tongue pressing against your hood, your vision goes white and then-

You see Yoongi’s sharp eyes above you, his naked body on top of yours, cold and wet, hard cave rocks against your bare back. You see Namjoon, a younger version of him, long hair pulled back into a low bun, across the room in bed with another woman. The room is small and empty. Two beds, two couples, Seokjin watching his friend fuck the random girl senseless.

You feel jealousy, watching Namjoon through Seokjin’s eyes. He looks so different, so feral and savage. The bed creaks loudly underneath him as he grips the headboard, and thrusts into her wildly. Jin pumps his fingers inside you in time with Namjoon's thrusts, it makes you feel like you’re going to burst into a thousand pieces. Namjoon’s eyes glow yellow as he gives Seokjin a wicked grin and you’re scared for the first time of Namjoon as he growls, releasing into the woman.

“Don’t make a mess,” he drops the spent girl on Seokjin’s lap, who caresses her face. She’s breathtaking, you feel inadequacy course through you, you feel jealousy, you feel turned on when her full lips envelop Seokjin's thumb. Namjoon pulls the sleeping naked girl from Seokjin’s bed, tapping her check to rouse her awake.

Seokjin’s arousal is overwhelming you. He slams into the woman’s body from behind, chasing his high while holding her face down into the bed, and then his fangs pierce her back as her screams are muffled. You don’t want to come to this, to the feeling of her blood filling his mouth, arousing him and arousing you. Namjoon’s grunts and sounds of sex fills your mind again and you come undone in a silent scream around Seokjin’s fingers.

---

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

You run around the room, darting around Seokjin who watches you rather calmly for the unfolding situation. The rest of his body frozen, the blessed dagger lodged in between his vertebrae, stopping his regeneration.

Once you came, thighs snug around his head, you pulled the dagger from your corset and stabbed him in the back. You kicked him away from you before he could attack and he fell backward, the dagger piercing deep into his back, and that’s where he was currently, frozen on the floor, watching you as you run around the room in disbelief that you actually managed to stab a vampire.

You trip over him by accident and he lets out a soft grunt. “Fuck! Are you okay?” you sit next to his frozen body, “Like, relative to being stabbed, I mean? Don’t answer that...because you can’t. Oh fuck.” You put your head down, resting it on his chest, you don’t hear anything but your laboured breathing. ‘Believe in yourself, y/n! Yoongi believed in you…’

You gather yourself up once again and you move to the window, jiggling the handle. It’s still unlocked! You’re too high up to escape but...

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I really am sorry,” you grunt as you heave the immobilized vampire to the window, inch by inch, Seokjin’s body like a sack of bricks. You place him against the wall and crouch down so you can look him in the eyes, patting down his messy hair, tousled in your struggle to move him, “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, “but you’re a vampire right?” You say encouragingly, and you give him a couple of pats on the cheek, his eyes dart down to watch the action, “Technically, you can’t die.”

With every ounce of strength you have left inside you, you shove Seokjin out the window.

---

You quietly lock the door to what had been your room and prison cell behind you, quickly walking through the halls. You’re not sure what you expected, maybe a gothic interior fit for Dracula, burning candlesticks and red velvet drapes, but you got electricity and mid century modern eclectic, the walls were colorful with art pieces, deep emeralds and golds and blood red. You open the first door you come across.

A young woman sits on a large bed reading a book, looking up at you. Is that how you looked to them? A more disheveled and unpleasant version of her? She looked happy, until she noticed you, and then her smile fell, disappointed you weren’t Jimin or Jin. You slam the door shut and lock it again.

You race as quietly as you can through the halls, you have no idea what you’re looking for, quickly peeking into each room you come across. Strangers, stop what they are doing to look at you, waiting like obedient lap dogs. You have yet to find an empty room. Four doors you’ve opened on this floor, no empty rooms, and you begin to feel hopeless.

You open the fifth and final door and you’re assaulted with the loud sound of moaning. The moaning comes from a woman specifically, her cries almost as loud as the slapping of her skin against Jimin’s naked body. Jimin had needed an outlet after his time with you, specifically, someone to use and bite that wasn't 'off limits.'

You stand frozen in shock, it feels like all the air has escaped the room, filling the woman’s lungs instead as she screams in ecstasy. He is standing next to the bed, fucking into her at an inhuman speed, holding her hips in the air as she struggles to hold the rest of her torso horizontal. You can’t look away, because her body, her stomach, her large bouncing tits, it’s all covered in blood. You almost scream, almost, but the small huff of air you let out instead is enough. The bed stops creaking as Jimin’s movement stops and you meet his surprised eyes.

You shut the door, lock it and run.

You run down the stairs, you see the entrance and you almost run out the door, but you instead run down the hall, flinging every door you see, praying you find something. There's a kitchen, a dining room with the longest table you’ve ever seen, and an empty room! It looks like an office! You run inside. You run to the desk, looking over the papers. Weird markings litter the pages, it reminds you of the markings on Yoongi’s bag. You have to be getting closer to your objective, you have to be! You scatter the papers around, yank open the drawers, hoping to find something useful. There’s a bookcase behind the desk, and you start pulling down books, nothing is catching your eye. You pull on the bookcase, you run your hand across the wood frantically, searching for perhaps a trap door-

“What are you looking for? I can try to help.”

You jump, almost screaming. You hold your heart, it hadn’t stopped, to your surprise. You had no idea someone else was in the room with you. You stare back at a calm man with messy brown hair, he looks at you timidly. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I just wanted to help, and it took me a while to organize those books,” he laughs softly. The man shuffles back to the wall, you hear metal clanging and look at his feet, they have chains around them, his hands too.

You look down at your feet, papers and books are all around you “I-I’m sorry. I was just-I didn’t know-” You had no idea how much more time you had to spare so you cut to the chase. “Is there a portal here?!”

The man’s eyes go wide, “Not here,” he speaks softly, “One level lower.” He gave you the answer you were looking for without any hesitation, was this a trick? You look at him more closely, his clothes are loose, like pajamas, and he’s barefoot, he looks at you happily, like you didn’t just storm into his room and destroy his things. The innocent expression on his face reminds you of Jungkook.

You remember why he looks so familiar, “You were sitting next to Yoongi!”

The man tilts his head confused, and then he stares at the door, “you need to leave now,” he rushes towards you, “Go down the stairs to the right.” He finds a pen on his desk. “The portal is in the basement, in Seokjin’s office. You’ll need this to open the door, it will only work once.” He grabs your hand and writes a long looping character on your palm, it burns gold and then disappears, while you stand still in shock.

Before you can question him the door bursts open. Jimin stands in the doorway, looking at you and the other man. His anger is replaced by an expression you don’t quite understand. Heavy silence envelops the room. The awkward tension is cut when Jimin speaks to you calmly saying, “Come here. Now.”

The man steps between you and Jimin. “Stay here, he can’t come inside, just like I can’t leave.” The man leans against the desk, his long legs blocking you from leaving, his chains clanging again.

“Y/n, come here now.” That was the first time Jimin said your name. You look between the men.

“Why would I go to you? You’re going to kill me!”

Jimin runs a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes to the side, “I promise you I won’t kill you if you come here right now.” He says the words as sweetly as he can in his growing irritation, trying to coax you to him, but to you he sounds patronizing and angry.

“Jimin’s lying,” the man next to you whispers, confirming your suspicions.

“Tae, just bring her to me!” the vampire screams.

“No, I don’t want to, you’re going to hurt her.”

‘Tae, he said. Is this Taehyung?’ The same man you saw next to Yoongi, the same man Namjoon warned you about, the man who is protecting you and gave you a way out of this hell of a place?

“Can’t you just do the right thing for once?!”

“You haven’t come to visit me in how long, Jimin?”

They yell at each other like an old married couple. You stare down at your hand, it looks perfectly ordinary, you think you might have just imagined it all, what Taehyung did, but you realized on this island nothing was impossible.

“A-are you a wizard?” you interrupt the men’s arguing.

Taehyung turns back to you surprised and gives you a bright smile, “No, I just learned from one. He didn't call himself a wizard, though” he laughs, “I think the correct term is warlock?”

“Oh, okay, good to know,” you mumble. Jimin quietly seethes at the doorway.

“Why do you have chains on if you can’t leave this room?”

“Yeah, why do I have chains on, Jimin?” He turns to the vampire accusingly.

“Just wait until Seokjin comes,” Jimin mutters, and he pulls the dagger you used on Seokjin out of his back pocket, holding the handle with a handkerchief. “Nice trick, by the way, y/n. Seokjin is still healing himself from the fall. You’re going to regret not coming to me when I asked.” He glares at you.

“So that’s what fell!” Taehyung roars with laughter.

“I said I was sorry,” you mutter, biting your lip. How the hell are you going to get out of this situation now? As if you summoned the Devil himself, Seokjin appears next to Jimin.

You hide behind Tahyung out of instinct, grabbing onto his chained arm. Taehyung holds in his joy while the two vampires' expressions darken.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Jimin seethes.

You let anger get the best of you and wrap your arms around Taehyung’s waist instead, glaring from behind his shoulder.

“Y/n-” “Don’t,” Taehyung interjects. “-get away from him,” Seokjin warns.

“Why?! How do I know you both aren’t going to murder me as soon as I leave this room?”

“Is there not a spell we can use to get her out?!” Jimin turns to Seokjin ignoring you. You grind your teeth. Two can play that game.

“Why are you locked in here? How do you know Yoongi and Namjoon?”

“Yoongi? We all met him when we came to the island.” Jimin screams Taehyung’s name to silence him, but he ignores him easily. “You should have seen Seokjin and Jimin, he got them all wet and they vowed to make sushi out of him!” he laughs, turning his body around in your arms to face you instead of the pair.

You look over to the two vampires who have gone quiet. “And Namjoon?”

“Taehyung..” Seokjin warns.

“What? I’m not even allowed to talk about it now?” Taehyung whines.

“Enough! Y/n come here...please.” You hadn’t expected a request from Seokjin. “I swear, I won’t punish you for what you’ve done, just come here.” he holds out his hand for you, you can see the magic swirl around his fingers, burning his skin. He winces, but doesn’t move his hand away, even when his tips begin to turn black with char.

“What about Jimin?”

“Yes, fine, I won’t punish you, just hurry the fuck up,” the younger vampire looks anxiously at Seokjin’s hand.

“Y/n, please no! I’ve been here by myself for so long, I can’t stand it! You’re the first person who’s visited me. I don’t want to be alone,” Taehyung whimpers, a high pitched whine as you hesitantly make your way to Seokjin. He reminds you so much of Jungkook. He paces around you, begging you to stay.

“I-I don’t want to be locked in that room anymore.”

“Okay! Just come here!” Jimin yells.

“How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t go back on your word?!”

“They will, y/n, please! Look, Jimin promised he would visit me, he lied!”

Seokjin pulls his hand away, completely burned black and puts out his other arm instead. “You’re just going to have to trust us, like we will have to trust you not to pull any more stunts. We’ll trust each other, okay?” Seokjin pleads with you.

“I-I’ll come back to visit you,” you say to Taehyung. “Right?” You turn to Seokjin who relents and gives you a hasty nod.

“No!” Taehyung whimpers, “They are going to lock you away! Please believe me! You’ll never be able to escape.”

You reach for Seokjin’s hand, but Taehyung jumps in between you, holding out his chained hands. “Look at them! Look closely, what are these made out of, y/n? LOOK!” You study the metal, it looks shiny and silver. It’s silver.

Seokjin lurches forward quickly, his suit catches fire, his warm hand grasps onto yours and pulls you out of the room and away from Taehyung and everything goes black.

---

You wake up in a different room. You’re not alone. Another woman sits on the bed next to you, she jumps when you wake up. It makes you jump, ‘fuck why is everyone so jumpy here?’ you think holding your head in your hands to calm your nerves.

You try to scoot away, and you feel a tug on your ankle, so you pull the covers off of you. You’re in a new dress, all white, like the sheets, like the woman’s dress next to you. You see a chain connected to your foot that reminds you of Taehyung’s shackles but darker metal. No. “My clothes!”

“They made me, I-I’m sorry, I had to give them your clothes. The necklace wouldn’t come off, I-I didn’t tell them,” the woman pulls at her sleeve. “I kept your secret, but I can’t promise you they won’t find out, Master might look into my memories.” Your hand traces the gold watch chain around your neck, calming down.

“Okay...thank you.” You whisper uneasily. “H-How long have you been here?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I lost count, Master did give me this on our Fifth Year Anniversary!” She shows off the blood red jewelry dangling from her ears.

Ugh. “That’s nice,” you say and get out of bed. The dress is tight around you, covering your arms and flowing down to your ankles, the one place the fabric doesn’t touch is your neck, the hemline sits off your shoulders and plunges into a deep V. You scoot your way to the door until you can’t take it anymore and reach for the bottom of your dress, pulling the fabric until it tears.

You hear the woman let out a soft, “oh no.”

The chain stops you from reaching the door, even if you stretch out your legs you can’t grab the handle. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wheel your body back around, “Hey, what’s your name?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I don’t remember.”

“Listen, I’m going to need you to-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T REMEMBER?!”

The woman flinches from your volume. “Well Master calls me his little doll and I like that name a lot, and I just, well, forgot my other name.”

You take a deep breath as you try not to be sick. “Well Dolly, your MASTER IS A HUGE FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU FUCKING LIARS!”

---

The group in the parlor turn their heads to the small voice echoing through the halls, Jimin winces, hearing your words clearly, moving one of the women off his lap. “She’s awake.”

“I’ll go-”

“It seems you failed at controlling her, brother. Why can’t I just try?”

Seokjin scoffs, “You can barely control yourself.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches. “I’ll-” he coughs, “-use restraint. I won’t hurt her.”

---

“Monsters!”

“Oh no, they’re going to be so mad.”

“Taehyung was right! I swear to God-”

“So so mad, oh no, oh no no no.”

“I won’t let you get away with this! Liars! Bastards!”

“Master!”

The door opens and Jimin stands against the door frame, ignoring your irateness and addressing your new roommate with a smile, “Hey Doll.”

Jimin standing in front of you had extinguished some of your rage and replaced it with apprehension, halting your tirade for now. “You fucking lied,” you glare at him.

“It’s not locked, I’m not forcing you to be here,” He looks over your shoulder, “Right Baby Doll?” The woman nods enthusiastically back. “The chain was a precaution, I’ll remove it, I promise. We just need to set some ground rules, okay pet?”

“I am not your fucking pet!”

He moves around you, like a buzzard circling it’s next meal, “You look so much better in this instead of that ugly sea dress.”

“Don’t I look pretty?” you hear the woman’s tiny voice ask Jimin.

“Of course!”

You rub your temples, “Jimin, just take this chain off me.”

“After everything you’ve done, and you’re still trying to make demands? Do you know how incredibly lucky you are? Can’t you just show a bit more gratitude like her?”

Jimin kisses the woman and she moans against him, deepening the kiss. You rub harder at your temples. You're chained, a captive audience to what ever the hell display is happening in front of you, becoming more uncomfortable and annoyed with each passing minute.

“Seriously?”

He drapes his arms around the woman’s shoulders and stares at you, “Jealous?”

You scoff. You think back to the version of him in Seokjin’s memories, with the other woman. You remember the tenderness in his eyes as he watched her and you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. You are not jealous! And anyways, Jimin’s tenderness is all gone now.

“She doesn’t even remember her name anymore.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” he winks at her, and the woman giggles at your exchange.

“Her entire life has been taken away! What happened, it’s worse than death.” You hug your arms close to your body. Was that going to become you if you stayed here?

“Worse than death?” Jimin echoes your words and you notice him stare at his reflection in the room’s mirror. You stand in silence, watching him as he runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the loose strands while the woman softly hums to herself a sweet melody. She doesn’t sense the looming danger all around you and it makes your chest tighten in anxiety.

“You’re right y/n. Come here.” He holds out his hand for her.

He pulls her into a kiss, she smiles against her lips. You awkwardly shift at the exchange. She seemed happy with Jimin, even if she couldn’t remember the person she was anymore. It makes you wonder if she had resisted in the beginning or had always been this irritatingly agreeable...or maybe she even loved him, maybe her love was the only thing left in her.

Jimin holds her face in his hands, dragging his lips across hers, a spectacle of two lovers. She’s beautiful like Jimin, they fit perfectly together, a rose and a thorn.

It happens so quickly you stand stunned, you don’t have time to scream or stop him. She’s on the ground, neck twisted, dead.

You’re so stunned you can’t even cry, you just shake, fallen to your knees, staring at her beautiful lifeless face. Her red earrings dangle from her ears catching the light.

“What have you done?” Your voice sounds tiny and high, like hers.

“I saved her from a fate worse than death, according to you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You can’t speak. He moves closer, putting a hand on your cheek, the same way he had held the woman’s head a few seconds ago. His cold finger wipes away your tears. When did you start crying?

“We aren’t liars. I’ll unchain you. So, will you behave now?”

---

You walk the halls during the sunlight. You stop by Taehyung’s door knocking four times, opening the door an inch. “I found this in the kitchen!”

“I’m...allergic.”

“Allergic to chocolate?! I-I’m sorry,” you mutter, though it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the bar yourself.

You lean forward into Taehyung’s room, he puts his chained arms over your head, and gives you a hug. He reminds you of Jungkook so much, sweet and gentle. But he’s not warm like him, he’s still a stranger to you, always dodging your questions. Namjoon’s words constantly play in your mind not to trust Taehyung. Even though out of everyone here, you trust him the most, you like him the most. Being able to spend time with him, even if your conversations are shallow and lighthearted, is the best part of your day.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“Why haven’t you escaped?” He whispers.

You play with the hem of your dress as a distraction, “I don’t know.”

He always asks you the same question and you always give him the same answer, but today Taehyung persists. “They won’t catch you if you go now! Isn’t that the whole reason you let yourself get caught?” Even though you hardly know anything about Taehyung, he knows so much about you already.

“I’m...I’m scared.”

He pats your head, you shake his hand away, lightly shoving him back. “I’m not a dog!”

Taehyung laughs, “Yeah, you’re a scaredy cat.”

“How dare you!” you hit his leg as he giggles.

“I want to show you something! It will help you when you finally escape!”

You cover his mouth with your hands, shushing him. Looking around to see if there were any others lurking around you, but no one ever comes around Taehyung. “What is it?”

“Well, um, you’ll have to come all the way inside.”

“...I can’t.” You move away from him again and lean your head against the door frame.

Taehyung sighs. “I knew you’d say that!” he whines. “Do you do everything Jimin says now?”

You roll your eyes, “Not even close,” you mutter. “And it’s not just Jimin...”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been told not to trust you...and you haven’t been very open with me, have you?” you look down at your hands, intertwined with his, you trace the gold markings along his chained wrists.

“It’s complicated,” he whispers.

“I can’t see how it could get more complicated than being a werewolf trapped in a house full of vampires.”

“It’s much more complicated,” he pulls on your arm, staring at you with pleading eyes. “Leave a shoe outside and they won’t notice you’ve come inside, I promise!”

You hum, searching for a compromise. “How about this,” you scoot over the entrance, sitting closer to Taehyung while making sure to keep your legs outside. “Technically, I am inside and also outside.”

“But the magic won’t work unless your body is fully inside here,” Taehyung pouts. “The spell on the room will clash with mine and who knows what will happen then!”

“How do you know so much about magic?”

“I can’t say…” Taehyung whispers.

Your expression turns sour, ‘What can you say...’ you think. “Well can’t you just like, Houdini yourself out of here?”

Taehyung shakes his head regretfully. “No, if only it were that simple. And please don’t ask me to explain,” he teases. Taehyung scoots behind you and pulls your body onto his lap. “Let’s stay like this for a while.”

“Okay,” you hum.

“Let go of each other!” You wake up on the floor with Taehyung cuddled to your side, one lone foot of yours still remains outside the door. Jimin pulls on your foot before you can untangle yourself from Taehyung, dragging the rest of your body into the hallway. Taehyung grunts, waking up as you’re pulled from his embrace.

You blink away the sleep from your eyes, face-to-face with Jimin, his head hovering over yours, eyes bright red with anger.

“Leave her alone, Jimin!”

“I-I am allowed to talk to him,” your words come out small and high when you finally speak and you hate it, the way your fear strangles your voice.

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

“W-well, t-technically-”

"You're being so unfair!" Taehyung yells. "Do you like her that much?"

“Tae, enough!” He slams the door in Taehyung’s pleading face.

There is a bang on the door, only once, so loud and strong it shakes the entire connecting wall, the picture frames wobble and dust falls from the ceiling, the sound so abrupt and booming it makes you, and even Jimin, flinch.

---

“Jimin told me you were in a...compromising position, with Tae today.” You and him watch the stars from your bedroom window, now locked.

Your stomach tightens. “Taehyung is lonely, maybe if Jimin spent time with him I wouldn’t have to,” you mutter.

“Do you care about Taehyung?” Jin’s eyes study your features, his sharp hearing picks up your heartbeat, waiting to hear any lies in your answers.

“No, I just-He’s the only normal person here.”

“Person? Normal?” Jin quietly laughs.

“A werewolf is a person too.”

“Ahhh, so you think Tae is a werewolf.”

“He is, isn’t he?” You spin around to look at Jin but his poker face is as strong as ever as he smiles down at you.

“Is a vampire a person too?”

You chew on your bottom lip, “I guess so,” you side eye the man next to you, “Deep down. Somewhere.”

Jin kisses your lips softly, carrying you back to your bed and placing you beneath him. You’ve managed to latch onto Jin since that night, a lesser of two evils. The vampire truly was a forgiving man, and even if parts of you were weakened by fear, your mind had impressively blocked Seokjin’s pull since that night as well, so he had deemed you his personal pet project, his puzzle to solve, keeping Jimin an arm’s length away from you.

Jin was nice, sometimes. And sometimes, you enjoyed his company too.

You play with his soft blond locks. You know the pain is coming eventually, so you do everything you can to distract yourself, admiring the vampire’s beautiful features before you. He pulls the deep neckline of your dress easily down your body, exposing your chest to his piercing eyes. His eyes stop on the gold piece nestled in your cleavage, like always, he ignores it. He knows what it is, what he doesn’t know is why Namjoon gave it to you.

The cold air and Seokjin’s cold fingers kneading your breasts sends you into a bout of shivers, when he drags his tongue across your skin you arch your back and push your chest closer to his soft lips. He’s so gentle with you now. Sometimes, you wish he was rougher, like the Seokjin you witnessed with Namjoon.

“Won’t you let me in again, Dove?” Namjoon’s watch falls into the dip in your clavicle, replaced by Jin's fangs as he bites the flesh of your breasts, his fingers pull at your nipples distracting you from the pain. He doesn’t drain you unconscious anymore, instead Seokjin likes to covers your skin in lovebites, taking all night with you.

“I-I can’t control it.”

“Let’s practice control,” Seokin smirks, lips stained red, and he moves his hands down your body.

He takes time stretching you full with his fingers, his lips never leaving your chest, steadily building up the pressure inside you with each quick stroke of his thumb against your core until you’re tightening around his digits. “Don’t cum.”

You tense around him, unable to successfully hold in your moans. “I can’t. I’m going to-”

“Just try, Dove.” You would hope he’d stop moving his fingers, at least slow down, but he’s steady and relentless, his digits pushing inside you in the most perfect mind-numbing pace. There’s no way you could stop your impending orgasm, but you try to hold it off, just two more three four five agonizing seconds longer. Seokjin sucks on the sensitive skin of your breast, mouth pulling as much of the mound as he can fit inside while you pulse around his digits. You feel his teeth sink deep into your flesh and his name escapes your lips in a strangled moan.

His usual dull eyes look up at you shinning with desire. “Let’s try again.”

---

“I brought biscuits.” You hold up the sweet cookies in front of Taehyung’s confused face.

“Thank you, y/n.” Taehyung gives you a bright smile and hugs you extra tight when you peek your head into his room.

“Ready to escape?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re-I'm-” Taehyung struggles to say the right words, “We’re running out of time, y/n.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just need a couple minutes with you, please. I have everything ready!” Taehyung runs to his desk, pulling together a stack of papers. “You want to see everyone again, don’t you? You friends and family?” he pleads.

Your family, you’re ashamed to admit you haven’t thought about them. It wasn’t even purposeful, your mind just had stopped wandering to thoughts of them.

Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about them anymore either, it hurt too much. The small traces of their personalities that Taehyung reminded you of had become sufficient enough as you tolerated living. “W-What do you mean we’re running out of time?”

“I think I have just enough magic to fill your necklace,” he whispers, “but if I remember correctly, that model only holds twelve weeks worth of time. How long have you been on this island, y/n?”

Your fingers clutch at Namjoon’s watch resting against your heart. Could you really rewind back time to when you never got on that damned boat! “I-I just need to take off a shoe?”

Taehyung’s face lights up. “Yeah, or something that has your scent that they can still sense, just in case”

“So the more I leave the less noticeable it would be?”

“Well, I guess so?”

You look around at the hallway, still empty like always, and pull off both shoes from your feet. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” You begin to shimmy out of your dress. Taehyung’s eyes go wide, and he wets his drying lips, then he springs into action, searching his closet for something to cover you. You pull his large sweater over your body and take a hesitant step inside.

Taehyung wraps you into his arms in a proper hug, holding you close. “I’m so happy you found me, y/n. I’m so happy.” He whispers.

He holds you tight to him, you're ashamed how affected you are by his kind gestures, you shouldn’t feel this way about someone who Namjoon told you to stay away from, it felt like a betrayal. “Don’t forget about me once you escape,” Taehyung whispers.

You melt into his embrace. “I won’t. Isn’t there a way to break the spell on the island? There just has to be! There has to be a way to save you and Yoongi and-”

“You like him,” Taehyung pouts.

“What? Who? Yoongi?!” Your face flushes hot.

“I don’t like sharing,” Taehyung mumbles into his sweater currently draped over your shoulders.

You swallow thickly. “Tae?”

He pulls away, holding you loosely, searching your eyes. During your interactions, you usually kept your attention around Taehyung, unable to focus too long on his intimidating aura and good looks, worried you'd start feeling too much for the mysterious man, worried you'd disappoint Namjoon. But now Taehyung is all around you, and his magnetism is too strong for you to resist. “Tae-”

His kiss is brief, however no less impactful, the way he pours his desires into you until your lost in a haze, following his lips as he pulls away, entranced by the small smile he shows you.

When he lifts his chained arms over your head, he pulls your necklace off as well. You were surprised how easily he removed it, when even Jimin couldn’t pull it off you (much to the vampire’s annoyance). You watched intently as Taehyung turns the watch's dial and whispers a spell in a language you can’t understand. “There, it worked, I set it to the full twelve weeks. you’ll know when to use it.” He places the watch around your neck again, his fingers cupping your cheeks and he rests his forehead against yours, content. Your face burns hot, Taehyung is so affectionate and sweet and treats you like glass.

This close, you can peer into his deep warm brown eyes, irises twinkling back at you so beautifully, it looks like gold swirls in them. “Just one more thing, and then the world is ours,” he says.

---

You sit up in your bed abruptly. Your fingers search for Namjoon’s watch as you try to steady your breathing. The hard gold feels comforting against the tips of your fingers as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You’re reminded of the night you first arrived. But gone is Yoongi’s colorful dress, the clinical white fabric of your new dress, sits tight around your body like a straight jacket and blends in with the white bed sheets.

Weren’t you just with Taehyung, what happened? You remember he told you you were running out of time. Then what happened?

You have to go find him!

You leave the bed and search out his room again. Jimin passes you in the halls, as quiet as a cat, startling you so much you almost fall if it weren't for his fast reflexes. “There you are, ugh I figured you’d be headed to Tae’s room,” Jimin frowns, “Let’s go.”

“Where are you taking me?” You fight against his grip as he pulls you in the opposite direction.

“I haven’t fed in weeks, and my favorite meal is gone because of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, trying to push away the images of the woman who haunts your dreams.

“So you’re taking her place.”

“What?!” You're doing what now? “J-Jin said-”

“Are you his parrot now? Well lucky for me, tonight Jin went to go speak with Yoongi,” he says smugly.

You step into Jimin’s room. The dresser was covered with random items that don’t seem personalized to the vampire’s taste at all. Unread books, countless jewelry pieces, and a plethora of knives.

“Don’t even think about it, pet.” Jimin warns as he sees your eyes stop on the sleek blades.

“I wasn’t,” you mutter. It was the truth.

There’s no window in his room, no mirrors, just wood furniture, covered in scratches and dents of aggression. The areas of his room, like his dresser, are littered with things, so many discarded things. The room is soulless, like Jimin, it feels like a lavish prison cell.

“So,” you don’t look at Jimin, instead you look at his things, trying to find some sense of his personality, “I guess you’re going to finally prove to me you aren’t impotent after all?” you mock. You know you shouldn't poke the beast, but Jimin is like an annoying itch you can't help but scratch.

Jimin scoffs, “Slut, can you go a night without getting fucked?”

“Can you?!”

Jimin smirks. “I'm almost going to miss that.”

You take a step away from him at his words. “What are you going to do?”

“Jin is too sentimental, he only skims the surface of his powers now. There is another aspect to a memory pull, it’s much more fun. Can you guess what that is, pet?”

You’ve been guessing and trying to make sense of everything since that night. “That woman's memories, you took them, right?”

Jimin claps his hands, slow and mocking at your right answer. “It’s not a simple task, but she was particularly compliant,” he bites his lip in memory. “She was much more willing to part with her past, her previous life wasn’t so great if you were wondering...some would see what I did as a blessing.”

The vampire stands in front of you cupping your cheek. “But I’m sure you...” his hand follows your jaw, “...will put up an impressive fight.”

You let out the breath you've been holding, if you can do what happened to Jin, maybe you can find something you can use against him. Maybe his torture won’t work on you...!

“You’re going to regret this,” you say, pulling your head away from his hand.

He laughs, “I regret not doing this sooner.” Jimin was tired of Jin's special treatment of you, all these new rules, all the things you've gotten away with when he wasn't even allowed to drink from you, follow his most basic of urges, it was annoying, you were annoying.

You feel exposed under his penetrating stare, you turn your head and hold your wrist out to Jimin, “Well? Go right ahead.” You think the inevitable has been dragged out long enough.

He looks at your wrist, lips rolling over his tongue as his fingers glide over the thin skin, and then he pulls you closer so you stumble into him, yelping. He looks up and down your body, his hair brushing against your forehead, the strands ticking you. You're supposed to hate each other, but the way he holds you and touches you, it’s too intimate, too rough and too soft for you to make sense of it.

“Do you have to ruin all the dresses we give you?” He noticed the slit you cut into your too long dress.

“Why are they so tight?” you say, watching his eyes as they roam over your exposed skin, feeling hot from his attention. You try to keep your thoughts calm, pure, so he doesn't notice what he's doing to you. “I can barely walk around.”

“Then maybe you should stay on your back,” his voice low and taunting. His free hand reaches for the torn fabric and as quick as a flash Jimin tears the slit higher up to your hip bone.

Your hands attempt to pull the slit closed in vain, and Jimin takes the opportunity to pull at the neckline of your dress, ripping the line even lower, exposing your cleavage to him. You slap him across the face, like you would have done any other man, but Jimin is not just a man, not anymore. He turns his face around and you see his fangs against his curled lip, he looks delighted, like you gave him just the reaction he wanted.

He grabs you around the waist and you feel vertigo as you're thrown across the room. You land on his bed, sinking into the mattress, and before you can scream Jimin is hovering over you.

“Your foreplay sucks.”

Jimin pulls your head back, laughing down at you.

"Get it?" you struggle to speak, “because you're a-”

You scream as Jimin finally bites the column of your neck, his body weight pressing down on you. Pain erupts and you can barely breath. His bite is somehow even more painful than Jin's, you hit his shoulders, pull at his shirt, trying to push him away to release you.

---

“What’s your name?” You can barely hear Seokjin’s voice over the trumpets of the band.

“Jimin.” He yells back.

“Military man,” the bartender nods to his uniform, “This one is on the house.”

“Thanks, um?”

“Seokjin.”

Jimin pulls his bottom lip in, studying the handsome stranger. “Thank you Seokjin.”

---

Jimin pulls away from your neck, breathing heavy. You laugh, and laugh, feeling exhilarated, eyes meeting the vampire while you laugh again. Did you just beat Jimin at his own game?

Your laughter stops when Jimin flips you on your stomach. His fingers dig into your hair, bending your back up to meet his chest. You grunt, jaw slack. “Still waiting to see what you've got, Jimin.”

You’re confusing. Jimin doesn’t even smell fear on you anymore, even when he tightens his grip. You must be feeling overwhelmed, like Jimin, who is trying to make sense of the long forgotten emotions coursing through him right now.

For the first time in a long time, Jimin feels uncomfortable, struggling to make sense of your taunts and why you aren’t submitting. Something unpleasant inside him stirs. He’ll make you regret acting like this, he’ll break you in half until you beg for mercy. He’ll do it. So why isn’t he doing it?

“Well?!”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” he hisses into your ear.

“So I’ve been told, military man.”

Jimin knows you're goading him, yet still, blind rage courses through his veins, stinging his chest. He rips the back of your dress, tearing it down the center.

Was Jimin fulfilling a twisted fantasy you had ever since you saw Namjoon and Seokjin fuck that nameless woman senseless? Could you admit that to yourself as you feel your core become wetter as he presses his hand down onto your bare back.

You push up on your elbows, but Jimin uses his strength to push you back down, holding your head down. His sharp hearing can hear your muffled moan and the unpleasant feeling in the center of his body twists again.

"You like this?" He groans, affected by the smell of your lust. “Fuck, you act like such a desperate slut.” He palms his dick, needing a release. His moans fill your ears as his stokes himself to the state of your body.

You feel his spit hit your skin, his hard length running along your center, covering his member in your juices and his saliva. His tip teasing your entrance, you push back into him seeking more, and his hands hold you down, making you all the more feverish.

Your arousal hits the vampire’s senses in waves, affecting him more than usual as he tightens his grip to keep you still, focusing on the blood blotting your neck. His cock runs up your slit until he rests over your second hole. You look over your shoulder, prepared to taunt the vampire even more, but his dark expression, filled with carnal desire, slightly unraveled, entirely captivated by you, sends your thoughts into a tailspin.

Jimin pushes his thick length into you, stretching you over his cock, inch by inch until your whole body spasms.

Jimin stayed pressed up against you, a small kindness, his fingers circling your aching core. “Don’t-” you moan, and he stills against you, “d-don’t hold back.”

"I wasn't intending to."

And he doesn't. Your orgasm wracks through you, you feel so full and empty as your walls clench down on nothing while he pounds himself into you relentlessly. You start to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts are wild, your neck is there, you smell so delicious and he's so close to release.

When you come close again, at the peak of arousal, he bites down on your soft skin. You yell, clenching around him even tighter.

“This is your fault.”

You see Tae laugh, so unlike his usual sweet boisterous laugh, he chuckles deep, fighting against the chains around him, his wrist markings glowing gold, then deep orange like fire. “No, this is your fault. You were supposed to kill Jin, we could have had everything we ever wanted. How could you betray me like this?”

Jimin’s hands go lax around your waist, so you put yours over his, holding on as tight as you can.

You see Seokjin and Jimin under a street lamp, you and Jimin watch the way the flies dance around the bulb.

“You’re a vampire.”

Seokjin tenses, so Jimin continues, “I saw you with that girl, the regular with black hair.” His eyes scan the man beside him.

“And what are you going to do now?” Seokjin’s words come out low, almost menacing. Jimin laughs.

“Would you believe me if I said you’re not the strangest thing I’ve seen?” Breaking the awkward silence, Jimin brings an arm over Seokjin’s broad shoulders, pulling the man into a headlock. “I forgive you for always ditching me for lunch.” He teases.

Jimin releases his mouth from your neck.

You shift beneath him to look up at the vampire. Jimin’s bite wasn’t as meticulous as Seokjin’s who knew how to expertly pierce an artery, so you weren’t profusely bleeding, but the wounds still ached. Seokjin has the precision of a doctor, Jimin is messy, wild, his entire front is covered in blood. Jimin's eyes were unfocused, you could tell he was lost in thought.

“Jimin?”

“Enough,” his voice shakily commands you. “I’ll just take the part of you that keeps doing this.”

He pierces your exposed flesh once more concentrating harder.

---

Jimin is tiny. His head reaches the older woman’s knee as he hugs her leg. He points to the butterfly, wings fluttering back and forth slowly as it sits on a leaf Jimin found.

“I fixed it, see!”

“My beautiful son,” she kisses the top of his head, laughing at his cuteness. She looks weak and fragile, sunken eyes and skin pale.

“I’ll fix you too, I’ll learn!” He hugs her leg tighter. She soothes her little boy, knowing it’s already too late for her.

“Grow up to be a doctor, heal people.”

---

He pulls away from you. His eyes look wild, like an animal’s, caught. “Stop looking into my mind!” He screams.

“I can’t control it!” You’re just as stunned as Jimin, you never expected to see a version of himself so innocent.

Jimin holds you down by the neck, he doesn’t squeeze your neck enough to stop your breathing, even though he should, he thinks, he can’t do it, he can’t bring himself to tighten his grip.

“Do it again and I’ll fucking kill you,” he lies.

“I said I can’t control it, asshole!” you struggle against his hold, “Maybe if you weren’t so weak-minded-”

Jimin roars. Pressing his weight back on you, his fangs strike at the sensitive flesh between your collar bone. Your first kiss was so special to you, you could still remember it to this day. You were young, awkward and shy, he was your first crush, a cute boy, his features reminded you of one of your favorite idols at the time, who was-

What did he look like? What was his name? When did he kiss you again? It was after school, you think, you can’t remember. How did he kiss you? That’s right, it was an awkward kiss, because you and him were...friends? Weren’t you? You can’t remember, you can’t remember what had happened, it was so special to you and now it’s gone.

Jimin sucks harder onto your skin, pulling more blood out of you. He took it, your first kiss, you know he did. Jimin, if that sweet little boy could see himself now.

You start to cry. You cry for your stolen first kiss.

His teeth sink into your neck again, pulling more blood greedily, trying to silence the memories he found with the steady beating of your pulse instead. He drags his fangs across your skin, more blood releases, so much blood lost already that everything spins around you. “Jimin!”

He covers your mouth to stop your protests. Jimin seems determined to lose himself again, ravaging your body with more bites. So you close your eyes and your thoughts drift to the young boy.

“Good job!” the soft voice of his mothers fills both your minds. Jimin holds a syringe full of milk to a tiny kitten’s mouth. “You have to take care of her now, remember, treat her gently. There you go!”

“She’s so cute, momma, I love her.”

“You both have to watch out for each other when I’m not around, okay?”

You can hear Jimin whimper into your neck.

You feel sadness wash over you. He could have been a doctor, he could have been a healer. He is, in some twisted way, he been given the gift of healing, and yet he uses it to inflict pain. Even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t experience it, you felt the love that he held so dearly for his mother as a small child. You can hear his laughter, he had the same laugh as his mother.

‘Jimin, I’m going to save you too.’

---

You wake up healed, your head pounding. You look around, Jimin lies next to you, he’s out like a light. You both look like you’ve been in a massacre. Your clothes shredded and blood everywhere. You move away from him, his features look angelic, but his skin is covered in dried blood, like a killer. What the hell happened? You take a step and your legs buckle, you cry out when you knee hits the hard floor. The vampire next to you sways, moves across the bed until he falls completely out of it, groaning.

You crawl your body to the other side of the bed where he is still lying on the floor.

When you look at him again, meeting his eyes, you come to a realization. You know his secret.

“Oh Jimin...”

“Y/n...” his voice is shaky, he covers his face with his hands and his soft cries fill the room. You struggle to get up, everything feels tilted on an axis. You sway and hit furniture as you make your way to the door.

There’s a ringing in your head that won’t leave. You follow the halls down to Seokjin’s office, a place Jimin has been so many times before, retracing his footsteps from a memory of his.

Taehyung’s spell worked just as he said, opening the door to Seokjin’s office, the bright markings glowed and then burnt away from your skin, leaving a trace of ash. ‘Taehyung,’ you’ll have to deal with him later, you think. First you need to get away, as far from the island as you can and try to find Jimin’s family.

There’s a large door to the right of his desk, wood an alien shade of purple. The high pitched ringing in your ears makes the room sway again, but you’re able to grip the handle and fall through to the other side.

---

You sit on the floor of a tiny shop. There’s intricate gold pieces; statues, vases, piled high on countless of glass shelves, every inch of the shop is filled with items, it reminds you of someone but you can’t remember who. You can’t even remember how you got here. Where the hell are you? It feels dangerous, it feels wrong.

You move to a corner and hug your knees to your body. ‘Where am I? Wait, who am I?’ You try to remember anything, any memory from your childhood, from your adulthood. And the past five minutes replays in your mind instead. Gold jewelry in glass cases and the feeling that you shouldn't be here, and a deep voice in your head whispers, “y/n.”

Y/n, is that your name? Your hands skim over the fabric of your torn dress, looking for pockets, looking for anything that might explain something to you. You need to get out of here, you need to leave, but you don’t even know where you are.

You hear a ding, a bell alerting an opening door. You hear a man speak to another. You run out the door while the man behind you lets out a surprised yell to come back.

You run and you run, past buildings past people. You’re barefoot, your clothes hang off you. Eventually you stop. Eventually you decide to ask an old couple who looks unthreatening where you are while you unsuccessfully try not to burst into tears. The old woman holds your hands and strokes your arm to calm you while the husband calls the police.

At first they suspected you were a victim of abuse. They took you to a hospital. The doctors performed several tests on you, each one worse than the last. You had no old memories, and all your new ones were horrible. Clinical, painful, strangers prodding and poking your body. Your dreams were filled of palm trees and warm sunshine on your skin, a sparkling blue ocean, laughter, happiness. So you slept most of the day.

Then one day, detectives came with nurses and they told you who you were. That it took so long because you had been pronounced dead over a month ago. Your parents were on a flight to come get you. You listened to them explain the events hoping to have a jog of memory but nothing comes. They talk about the boat, the crash, no survivors. Always another horrible new piece of information. When will it end?

When your parents picked you up, a lovely man and woman who you tried desperately to remember, the hospital staff gave you a bag with the clothes they found you in. There was a gold pocket watch, an item you didn’t remember having, but you didn’t remember anything, so it didn’t surprise you. You told them to throw everything away, but you kept the watch with you.

You have to stay with them, everything in your life had been reduced to a few boxes they had kept. You lost your home, your identity, you had no money, no job, the only thing you acquired during this whole time was a death certificate.

You start remembering your childhood, slowly at first, a memory here and there, a fall and cut knee, a tea party with stuffed animals, a school field trip, and then years at a time.

You found yourself again. You remembered who you were, your entire life up until you didn’t, the memories fracturing at the end, and the harder you tried to remember how you could have ended up in a different country across the world, your mind would construct horrible images instead, blood, drowning, and death. You couldn’t bare to think of it.

---

“Y/n!” you make your way into the coffee shop, you reconnected with some old childhood friends now that you were back in your hometown.

“Hey, oh my god, who is this big cutie?” Your friend’s dog barks excitedly while you fluff the black fur on his head. He’s so cute, his ears flop to the side with each happy bark.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re...well you’re crying?” She looks at you concerned.

You touch your wet cheeks. Why? You don’t know when it started, but as your friend’s dog nudges his head into your palm for more pets, your heart aches.

---

One night, a crazy thought enters your mind. You want to go back to that shop. You want answers. You leave a note for your parents telling them your intentions and pack your freshly made identification cards and travel documents into a suitcase.

So here you are again, in a foreign country, alone again, filled with purpose that seems to pull you in despite how terrified you are.

You scroll through your phone while you lie on the hard foreign hotel mattress. You open a map of where you are on your phone, and zoom out until you see water.

There's islands around the peninsula, you zoom into each one and search each name on your phone, learning each habitat, who lives there, if it is accessible. You do that to pass the time until you fall asleep.

“It’s too dangerous.”

You reach for the merman, grabbing at Yoongi’s shirt and pulling him closer, your eyes meeting his. “Explain.”

Yoongi is taken aback, licking his lips trying to think of a good way to start. "We made a blood pact to protect this island from the outside world, it's indiscoverable and once anyone does come here, they can't leave."

"Why..." you let go of his shirt, but he stays close, "Why would you do that?"

"Think, just think what you humans have done to the world...the others needed some place safe to go to and I-" the merman huffs, "At the time, I thought...well, they were...at the time I didn't mind sharing the island with them. "

Your fingers roll over the bracelets Yoongi put on you. "That was nice of you." The merman glares at you in return.

"You know, they'd come here, we all spent time together." Yoongi's stare is faraway and distant. "In the beginning, at least."

"I-I'm sorry." You hold his hand, and he stares at your fingers only briefly before shaking you off.

"Whatever, I'm surprised they didn't start trying to tear each others throats out sooner," He mutters. "We had portals of course to leave when we wanted to, but one day Namjoon and those dumb dogs destroyed all the portals-"

"What?! Why would they do that?"

"I don't know all the details, but I believe Namjoon did it to protect the rest of his pack. I can respect him for that...but the problem is they trapped us all here like idiots!"

"Is that why you're helping Jin and Jimin?"

"What? To get back at Namjoon? Pfft no. Jin came to me with a deal. He looked off, sick, and he offered me anything I wanted, so I helped him. That's it."

"So technically you can leave the island?"

"I can swim the waters, but I can only go so far, the magic always pulls me back eventually, it's useless to try," he mutters.

You hum.

"Anyways, what Namjoon doesn't know is Jin used some leftover magic and created a portal. Jin has lots of friends that serve him, owe him favors, he uses it as a delivery system."

"So you think if I?"

"That's the only portal I know of, but the magic is dangerous, the vampires put so many protections on their house, they won't even go through it themselves, there has to be a reason, right?"

"I...I'll take my chances."

"They wont even chance going through it, and you will?"

"Yes! And what if I can find a way to break the spell? Then you can finally leave! Yoongi, you have to let me at least try!"

"You're going to get yourself killed one way or another," Yoongi scoffs.

"No, I refuse to believe that."

"You're impossible to understand."

"I'm going through that portal. Then I'll come back for you."

"Wait, you'll come back?" Yoongi asks.

"Well, yeah, if you help me, a deal is a deal. Yoongi please, help me come up with a plan and I swear to you I'll come back with your payment. You're the only one who can search the ocean, you just have to find me again, so what do you say merman?"

"I'll find you again."

---

Your alarm wakes you up. 'What a weird dream,' it felt so realistic. Like all your dreams, the more you think about it, the less you remember, but that man's scarred eyes, whose name you forgot already, they stay with you.

You brush your teeth and wash your face. You notice something as you rinse off your skin. 'What the hell is that?' You inspect the gold writing behind your ear. Taking some more soap, you work to remove it but it doesn’t come off, the glittery ink is permanent. You rubbed your skin raw trying to take it off, it didn’t look like a tattoo, but nothing you did would get rid of the gold markings. You pace around your hotel room, things are getting weirder and you start to feel a nagging sense of dread, but there's a voice inside you that says to keep going until you find the answers you are looking for.

You don't walk right into the shop at first, instead casing out the place. You drink coffee at a nearby restaurant and keep watch on the shop. There are not many visitors, and those who do enter are not who you would expect. You would think maybe some older people who were looking for vintage items would decide to enter, or eccentric younger people, but it was almost always a intimidatingly large man entering, bringing items in rather than taking items out.

You’ve gotten into the habit of playing with the gold chain around your neck, the gold pocket watch had become a permanent accessory.

It's almost closing time for the restaurant, so you reluctantly make your way to the shop, and walk in after a group of tourists.

The shop looks different than what you remember, new items litter the shelves. You hide behind the large cases, studying the objects, until you come across something that makes you hesitate. A necklace with a large red gem hidden behind a thick glass case with a lock.

“You’re that girl! You...you came back.” Your head turns into the direction of the voice, a very old man stares back at you. He looks at you incredulously while you can only stare back dumbly. “C'mon, let’s go,” the old man says, he grabs your elbow. “Seokjin should be awake by now.”

“Let me go! You can’t keep me here!” You pull away from his grasp, your hand tightens around the amulet.

He laughs at you amused, giving you some space. “You walked into my shop, did you not? You don’t want to talk to Seokjin?”

“I…” Do you?! Would he know what happened to you, why does it make you shiver hearing his name.

Wait...you look down at your hand, to make sure you didn't imagine it, and there you see the necklace in the middle of your palm, heavy in your hand, you hide it behind your back, looking over your shoulder to the empty case, the shock of it makes you freeze.

The man looks at you cautiously, “Why are you here, girl? Are you here for Seokjin?”

Seokjin. That name fills you with dread. A vision of a man flashes across your mind only briefly, “I d-don’t know.” The old man raises an eyebrow at you. “Stay here, girl. I'll be right back.”

Where is he going? What is he going to do with you? Your mind spins and the skin behind your ear stings. 'Now y/n. Do it now.' that deep voice is back. You panic when the old man comes back with two others.

'Use the watch, y/n. Use the watch. NOW!'

---

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

As you lie on the ground you feel like the weight of the world just crashed upon you. Your chest feels like it’s going to explode, there’s a ringing in your ears, the skin behind your ear still burns hot.

Jimin noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your heart begins to race as you start to break down. Every day, starting on the night your boat was capsized, replays in your mind as you start to remember your time on the island. You see Taehyung, who looks at you and then his eyes go wide, realizing the situation, eyes ablaze with growing excitement.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice breaks the silence. You can only take in shaky breaths as your tear filled eyes try to focus on where you are. You traveled back in time, precisely twelve weeks to the second, you’re back on the island, thrown back into your nightmare like you never left. The only difference now is your left hand clutches a second pocket watch, now broken, and your right hand clutches the amulet.

Jimin looks between you and Taehyung. “What have you done?” Jimin accuses Taehyung, whose eyes haven’t left yours. Taehyung’s lips curve into an encouraging smile, he holds out his chained wrists to you. The vampire whips his head in your direction, but it’s already too late. You throw the amulet into Taehyung’s awaiting hands. You didn’t want to give it to him, but as if Taehyung had pulled strings around your body, you complied to his silent request. The minute the gem touches his skin, the gold markings around his wrists burn away.

The explosion knocks you back meters, everything is broken, everything is dust, you can’t see and your body aches. You hear screaming and yelling and groans of pain. You crawl through the debris searching for a way out.

Red light flashes through the smoke. You choose to crawl towards it, hearing Jin’s loud booming voice.

Taehyung pulls you back, his body behind you like it just materialized out of thin air. "C’mon y/n. Let’s escape."

“This...This is all your fault!” He looked surprised by your reaction.

“What you think you know, you’re mistaken.” He lifts you to your feet easily.

It feels like the air around you is vibrating, your body feels lighter in Taehyung’s presence.

“Please let me go,” you cry.

“Don’t worry, once we escape, we’ll be fine again.” His hand holds your hip tight to his body as he drags you in the direction of the portal.

Seokjin crashes into you both, knocking Taehyung away from you. You hear their struggle, and you’re back to crawling away through the smoke helplessly. Your fingers hit the hard cold gem of the amulet, and you wrap the chain around your fingers.

You can’t remember how you found the stairs, the wood half shattered, or the exit, blown wide open by magic, you can’t remember leaving the mansion, you just remember once your bare feet hit the soft grass outside you ran and you didn’t stop running, until you heard the sounds of waves. You ran until water hit your feet and then you screamed.

---

YAY I FINISHED THIS MONSTER OF A CHAPTER (Get it? I’ll shut up). Thank god, I felt as trapped in this chapter as y/n in that damn room :’). Okay, but now we’re getting somewhere! What do you think is going to happen now? Looks like this story might finally be headed off the island :D. I’m excited!

Questions to ponder for the next chapter: What is Jimin’s secret? Looks like there was a good reason for keeping Taehyung locked away, so what is his ultimate goal? What did Taehyung do to you? And why are Jin and Namjoon no longer friends?! Those are just some of the questions floating around in my mind as I am writing the next chapter, now do you have any questions you want answers to? Let me know! <3

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obsessive-ego · 3 years ago

Text

Just come on in, dont even knock

Y/n walks in on beej jerking off

Nsft

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Just a small thing I've been thinking about forever

...

"Its been awhile hasnt it~" the demon purred to himself, here the born dead bastard was laying on your bed, half naked, pants and boxers thrown aside, jacket shoved off, tie loosened, looking like a mess and practically glowing pink.

Beetlejuice has taken the opportunity of you slipping out to do boring living people things, to tend to his own personal needs.

In his hand was a freshly worn pair of black silk panties, the crotch of the garment was pressed oh so gently to the demon's nose, he growls with the intake of your scent.

"I bet you taste as good as you smell babes~"

His striped tongue gives an experimental lick, which he was pleasantly surprised by the result.

In the ghoul's other hand was his painfully hard cock, already leaking with precum, you drove the ghoul absolutely wild, hes been dying all day for an opportunity to 'fix' the little problem you stuck him with, how dare you turn him on so easily, laughing at his jokes, making him food, treating him with kindness, you were the hottest tease he ever encountered. God slash satan he wanted you, but would you believe him if he said the L word? No, he had to wait for you to say it, beetlejuice KNEW you liked him, he also knew you were a coward and shy, though it DID have a charm to it. But until the day you confess your undying love for him, beetlejuice decided he could satisfy his craving for you his own way.

The demon takes another inhale of your sent before groaning as he goes back to stroking himself, the idea of you pressing your clothed sex against his face while you stroke him was all he could think about. How your wet panties would be muffling his moans, at that thought beetlejuice instinctively shoved the garment in his mouth, as if to recreate the sensation, letting out a soft whine as drool now dribbles down his chin.

He could imagine all the sweet things youd be saying as you tended to his cock, you were always so sweet to him, the kindness in your voice always got him going down there, not that you knew.

He could hear you now

'Does that feel good?' 'You're so big' 'I cant wait to feel you inside of me'

His hips jump at that last thought, another muffled whine escapes his gagged mouth.

As much as beej wanted to take his time and enjoy himself to the fullest he didnt exactly know, how long you'll be out, it wasnt like you were going to work, you could be home anytime, but that was the thrill wasnt it?

His head now lulled back, eyes closed, as if to focus on his image of you, his hands begin to speed up their lazy pace.

The taste of you on his tongue, the memories of every nice thing you've ever said to him, the image of you now riding his cock, after you shoved your panties in his mouth, this little fantasy wasn't gonna last long, he was getting so close.

Beetlejuice muffled and groan around the gag, cursing and praising how good you felt and how good you are to him.

"Fuck y/n I'm gonna full you up so good-"

...

Coming home from the pharmacy, you drop your bags on the couch, you pause for a second, normally beetlejuice greets you the second you come home, you shrug and think nothing of it.

Until you hear a ruckus down the hall, you groan, he was messing around with your stuff again wasnt he, you huff and head to your room.

Without a second thought you swing the door open, all you could hear as you approached the room was unintelligible mumbles. But you scream at what you see, and so does the culprit.

"Beetlejuice I told you, stay out of my- WHAT THE FUCK!?" You shriek at seeing the demon in question jerking off on your bed

Though your scream made him blow his load, he immediately sits up and tries to cover himself, trying to muffle out some sort of excuse, pink fading from his hair, now being replaced with deep purples and blues

"I am so sorry, I didnt see any, I swear, i, um I should have knocked" you babbled as you quickly run off leaving the demon confused more then anything, you werent gonna scream at him? Banish him? Join in? He sat there for a moment trying to process what happened, taking the soaked panties out of his mouth, staring at the doorway where you once stood.

After a few minutes he has a small chuckle, that was you wasnt it? Shy little y/n, you see a creepy dead guy stroking the snake in your bed and you apologize, getting up from the bed, beetlejuice snaps his fingers redressing himself and cleaning up the mess he made.

He makes his way to you, to push his luck.

There you were sitting on the couch, face in your hands probably dying of embarrassment.

"Hey" he greets

Nothing

"You enjoy the show?" He jokes

Still nothing, the ghoul frowns, purple taking over his form, he gently sits down next to you.

"I promise to wash the sheets if you just say something" he pleads

"...please find a different place to do that" you mumble in your hands, clearly dying of embarrassment, but he'll take it

"No problem sugar, I'll wait for a personal invitation to unload in your bed" he laughs, thankful you didnt banish him, beetlejuice gives you a hug, feeling your body freeze at the contact, he didnt really blame you, as he squeezed you he thanked anyone and everyone who could hear his prayers.

Bonus

Once you over came your embarrassment, you made sure to watch beetlejuice put the sheets in the wash, and show him how to run the machine, and again with the dryer, as the dryer rumbled he chuckled "bet it would feel real good to sit on top if it huh babes?" Hed nudge you, you only have him an awkward smile.

You werent exactly mad at him, just a tad upset, it was a violation of your trust, though beetlejuice was practically on his hands and knees begging you to forgive him, saying your bed is the most comfortable place in the house ect, and how he'll make it up to you, anything you want, now he's stuck on chore duty.

But as you lay in bed that night, alone, beetlejuice took the couch as punishment, you couldnt help but think back to walking in on your friend, and seeing him in such a state, gagged, drooling, an absolute mess, and his package, you didnt expect beej to be so thick down there, you shiver at the thought, the idea of being stuffed by him made you legs weak, and seeing him finish? He was like a fucking firehose, you werent going to be sleep tonight with those thoughts bouncing around your skull.

#beetlejuice x reader #muscial beetlejuice x reader #rambling #nsft

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Twisted [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: So, here we go! 😁 Thank you so much for your wonderful support and lovely messages during my break my loves, they mean so much to me and ily! ❤ On my break, I binged a lot of shows, and Criminal Minds and Prodigal Son were two of them, but if you haven’t watched them don’t worry because it will not be following a specific canon plot😁❤Please let me know what you think and enjoy!❤

Warnings: Murder, drug use, serial killers, violence, manipulation

Summary: No one can choose their family.

If it were another time, you could’ve at least attempted to convince yourself how everyone had problematic childhoods. Focusing on something else usually worked, per the advices of countless psychiatrists your mother had forced you to go after the-

Incident.

Just the thought of it was more than enough to make your blood freeze in your veins, but you were soon snapped out of your thoughts when your phone started ringing. You checked the caller I.D, and heaved a sigh before you touched the screen.

“Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re not going there.” Your mother’s voice filled the car and you pressed your lips together.

“Hi mom.”

“Every time you go there and visit that man in that wretched prison cell of his, he manages to get into your head!”

“That’s not what’s going to happen,” you said, keeping your eyes on the road, “You have no reason to worry.”

“I have every reason to worry!” she snapped, “We promised that we wouldn’t let him worm his way into our lives.”

“Yeah well, FBI begs to differ,” you forced yourself to say, “You’ve seen the news—“

“I don’t want to hear this,” she cut you off, then heaved a sigh, “It’s terrible enough to hear it once, let alone twice.”

You never really had the luxury of ignoring all the terrible things on the news, especially after what had happened. Ever since you were a child, the nightmares wouldn’t leave you alone, and you weren’t as good as your mother at ignoring what was happening while you were awake.

“You could’ve said no.”

“I really couldn’t,” you mumbled and she clicked her tongue.

“Well then,” she said, trying to pull herself together, “I expect to see you at brunch, even your sister is coming. It won’t take long, will it?”

“It won’t take long to see my serial killer father and find out whether he is helping another serial killer even if he’s been behind bars for years?” you asked, “No mom. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sarcasm will give you wrinkles.”

“Oh yeah, tragedy.”

“Call me as soon as you leave there,” she insisted, making you smile. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you said as you pulled over in front of the building. Even the sight of it was enough to make your stomach flip and you felt the bile climbing up your throat.

You did not want to see him.

You had managed not to see him for years now, but now, the news were full of different coverage about a killer whose method of killing was very similar to him.

A flower left in the crime scene, every damn time.

Naturally, FBI wanted a word with the original killer. Less naturally, the original killer refused to speak unless he talked to his younger daughter, who happened to be you.

Unfortunately.

Yet, the sooner you walked in, the sooner you would walk out, and that was the only thing that offered any kind of consolation.

“God damn it,” you mumbled to yourself as you left your car, and made your way into the building. They patted you down, made you go through the x-ray and sign the papers before you entered the hall.

There were two men that weren’t in official prison guard clothes, which made you think these were the FBI agents you had talked to on the phone. For some reason, you hadn’t pictured them like this, but you didn’t know any agents so maybe this was the norm.

If it were any other time, you could’ve noticed how handsome they both were, but your mind was way too occupied.

“Ma’am,” the dark haired one stepped closer to you, “I’m Special Agent Luke Alvez, this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Even if Agent Alvez looked like the ideal FBI agent that was pulled out of an action movie, Dr. Reid looked more like a young, handsome professor, the ones that you dreamed would be at your university when you were still at high school.

Needless to say, that fantasy hadn’t come true much to your disappointment.

You shook your head, trying to focus.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You shook hands with him, and smiled at Dr Reid, “Hello.”

“Thank you for coming.” His smile was soft, much like his gaze, “I imagine it’s not easy for you.”

You forced yourself to shrug, “Yeah it’s…” you trailed off and cleared your throat, “It’s fine.”

“So far we have seen five murders all over the country, in different areas but the crime scene has your father’s signature. It most likely means there are multiple copycat killers, and given your father’s past, he might be the mastermind behind it. He contacted us, but refuses to say anything unless he spoke to you.”

The goosebumps rising on your arms felt almost familiar.

“I haven’t been educated in any interrogation techniques.” You said, “And knowing him, he’s not just going to give that information to me.”

“People give information about a lot of things even when they don’t realize it.” Dr Reid said, “We will be outside, watching and listening.”

“I’ll talk to the guards to see if he’s ready, excuse me.” Alvez said and he walked away while you nibbled on your lip.

“How does a serial killer have this many privileges?” Reid asked you, “He has a private cell, books, TV…”

“Money,” you said slowly, “Money buys lawyers, lawyers buy freedom. Or the closest thing to freedom, given the circumstances. If you ask me, he should’ve been rotting in a hole but...” you trailed off, leaning back to the wall and took a deep breath, counting in your head.

“That’s a good exercise to calm down,” Reid said and your head shot up.

“What?”

“The 4 7 8 breathing exercise. I’m guessing a psychiatrist taught you that.”

“Several psychiatrists taught me that,” you stated, raising your brows, “You’re observant aren’t you professor?”

“Doctor.”

You clenched an unclenched your fists, your eyes darting around the hall,

“This is not helping,” you said as you exhaled a breath, “I need a cigarette, or twenty.”

“What do you do?” his question was so out of nowhere that you gawked at him for a moment.

“What?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a— I’m a wedding planner.”

He tilted his head, “What’s that?”

“Well you…you know, you help the couples with color palettes, decoration, overall aesthetic, and during the wedding you make sure nothing goes wrong with the venue and the food and the music, all that. You make sure the wedding is perfect, basically.”

He hmmed, “How do I tell if a wedding is perfect? If we were talking sense wise?”

“Well first of all, in terms of looks, the colors need to complement each other,” you said, remembering your favorite events, “When you walk in, you see the garden and it’s well lit, but not too bright. In terms of touch, I guess you would make sure the table covers and such are soft to touch. The music should be slow at first, at least until it starts.”

“How about smell?”

“You can’t really go wrong with faint flower scents. Scented candles are a nice touch too.”

“The food?”

“Something light, most of the time. No one wants to get into a food coma at a wedding and you—“ you stopped as your eyes snapped up to his, a small smile playing at his lips.

He was making you list all the things that would ground you without making you realize you were doing it, so that you wouldn’t lose yourself in panic. It was yet another trick your psychiatrists had told you to do whenever you felt overwhelmed, talking about what you could see, hear, smell, touch and taste. By making you focus on a pleasant memory and remember all those, he was offering you a safe place in your own mind.

But contrary to any doctor, he didn’t make it obvious.

“Well played, professor.”

This time, he didn’t correct you,

“Grounding works most of the time,” he stated as Agent Alvez approached you, “I know this situation is less than ideal, but we will be right outside. You can walk out any time you want.”

“They’re ready.” Agent Alvez said and you nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, then followed them to the door. Alvez opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, digging your fingernails into your palm.

His hair had more grays since you had last seen him, and his beard was longer, but that dangerous light in his eyes hadn’t changed. He looked up, a wide smile appearing on his face as his eyes searched yours.

“Sweetheart!” he said cheerfully, raising his hands a little so that you could see the chains attached to his handcuffs, “It’s been a while, wouldn’t you say?”

Pretending to be calm was something you had practiced so many times that your body knew automatically what to do. The door closed behind you and you swallowed thickly, making sure your face didn’t show any feelings. You slowly approached the table to pull yourself a chair, then put your phone on the table and started the countdown.

He wanted five minutes, and you would be damned if you stayed there a second longer.

“You look so much like your mother,” your father shook his head, “It’s uncanny, really.”

You gritted your teeth, still glaring at him.

“Not your eyes though,” he smiled, “You got your eyes from me. The window to the soul, hm?”

“My soul has nothing to do with you.” The words left your lips before you could stop them and he tut tutted.

“My petal-“

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, “I hate that nickname.”

That didn’t seem to break his enthusiasm though, much to your displeasure.

“Well, we should catch up,” he said , clapping his hands together, “Are you still with that young man from last year? He’d better be treating you well.”

You blinked a couple of times, “How did you-?”

“I have my sources too.”

“Your sources are slow then.” You stated, “We broke up months ago. Is that all? You brought me here to just talk about my personal life?”

“Why did you break up?”

“Are you really behind all these murders happening right now?” you asked back and he shot you a reprimanding look.

“None of that right now, petal. Business and family shouldn’t be merged, as you know.”

You felt like you would throw up, but managed to hold it together and stole a look at the countdown.

“Why did you break up?”

“Certain differences,” you said, cracking your fingers to distract yourself, and he leaned back.

“I get that,” he said, “If you’re different, you’re different. I always felt that with your mother—“

“Stop that.” You spat out, “Anything I do, including my relationships, it has nothing to do with you. I’m nothing like you.”

“Oh but you are,” he said, “It’s all in your eyes. In that deadly glare of yours. It’s there, isn’t it? That anger? Try to hide it as much as you want, it’s still burning you.”

“There’s nothing burning me,” you said, “You’re fucked up, doesn’t mean I am too.”

“You know, there are many scientists that say murder is in the genes,” he stated, “So it would mean you’re contaminated too, no?”

The panic was pounding through your system, but you managed to keep your expression stable.

“Do you know why I didn’t ask your sister here? Or hell, your mother? Do you know why it is you?”

You stayed silent, your gaze focused on him.

“Your sister loved your mother, but you…. You were always such a daddy’s girl.”

“Wrong.”

“I don’t even think you cried for your mother whenever you scraped your knees, it was always me.”

“I didn’t know you were crazy when I was a child, guilty as charged. Doesn’t prove anything.”

“It does,” he said, “It proves more than you know. You are going to be my legacy.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine but you took a deep breath, resting your palms on the steel desk.

“No I won’t,” you said calmly, “Sorry to disappoint. I never killed anyone.”

Your father’s smile was almost as serene as your voice.

“Yet,” he pointed out, and you felt your throat tightening. “Ignore it if you want. It’s still there, petal.”

The beep of the phone made you snap out of it and you pushed your chair back, knocking it over in the process.

“Fuck you,” you said through your teeth as you gripped the door knob, “Have fun rotting in here.”

You swung the door open and stepped outside, still trying to catch your breath, and the door next to the interrogation room opened before Reid stepped into your vision. Your hands were still shaking and you desperately needed a cigarette and some fresh air.

But what you really needed was to get out of there.

“Y/N?”

“I hope you got whatever you guys needed,” you managed to say, wiping at your nose, “Because I’m never stepping a foot here, ever again.”

With that, you walked out of the hall, every cell in your body screaming at you to get away. You ignored the looks from the guards, tears blurring your vision and you left the building as fast as you could, as if someone was chasing you.

As if that could help you escape him.

Chapter 2

Taglist: @rhabakoli @theskytraveler @danyka-fendyr @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lettersofwrittencollective @dreamers-wonderland @lilliannaansalla @propertyofpoeandbucky @iblogabout-stuff @thinemineours @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @davnwillcome @chibi-liz05 @demigoddesofchimichangagod @finnickfoxes

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #mgg #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #reid x reader #reid imagine #reid imagines #twisted

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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years ago

Note

I love your writing. May I have Loki x Reader? The reader is a sweet, delicate dreamer. Loki has come to conquer the world. He saw her and wants her to become his Queen of Midgard. He kidnapped her. She pleads with him to let her go while she is tied to the bed. He caresses her hair and says she will love him (he doesn't want to use the scepter on her).

***Can I have White Reader x Loki, please? Loki just escaped from the Helicarrier. He saw the reader who is a sweet and innocent creature. Loki doesn't want her dead when he will start battle. Loki kidnaps her and locks her up to keep her safe. When he wins, Loki tells her that she will become his queen.***

Hi! I decided to combine the prompts and make the reader plus-sized. I hope you enjoy!

His Match

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Plus-Sized Female Reader

Summary: You’ve tried to live by your grandmother’s rule of being kind to others, even when the world gives you the middle finger. What if a Norse God decided reward you by becoming his Queen?

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: 18+/Mature

Warning: Kidnapping, Implied Dub/Non-Con, Angst, and some Violence

A/N: Thanks goes to the amazing @angrythingstarlight for beta reading this!

Loki was walking around New York City, scouting Stark Tower making sure the final preparations of his plan was perfect when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

She walked out of what looked like a women’s clothing store with a forlorn smile. She was plumper than the average female Midgardian last time he frequented the realm. His eyes did not miss the enticing curves that lied beneath her clothes despite her efforts to ensconce herself into the background.

She was a vision.

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments and it felt like time stopped. His heart quickened in his chest and a rush of blood surged to his groin.

He had to follow her. His Elskan.

“Barton, tell the others I’ll be out for a few more hours. Proceed as planned.”

–––––

He found you entering a rather destitute apartment complex. Its lights and foundation were a bit unsound and gave off a seedy ambience.

Loki grimaced at her living conditions. When he ruled Midgard, she would have only the best.

Casting a simple concealment spell, Loki entered her fairly small apartment. She began mixing ingredients together for what looked to be ‘chocolate chip cookies’. He smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma knowingly; Asgard had only recently started consuming the sweet. She soon laid out a batch of thick, scrumptious cookies with a satisfied expression.

They reminded him of better times when he and Thor would sneak into the kitchens and swipe confections from under the baker’s nose. Loki chuckled at the memory; those were the days.

Not ten minutes after she placed the last cookie onto the cooling rack did her phone ring. It was her mother. Loki felt dread coming off his Elskan in waves.

Loki could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, if you could call it that. Her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, life choices, and her ‘pathetic’ attempts to get over her ex-boyfriend. His heart broke as he saw tears begin to fall and the croaking of her voice as she bid the odious creature goodnight.

Several minutes after she cried herself to sleep, Loki entered his Elskan’s bedroom. He spied her diary on the nightstand and decided to read a few pages.

He was fuming within two minutes.

How dare that caustic pig sow treat his Elskan, her own daughter, in a such ghastly manner! Her ‘perfect’ sister always slighting and reminding her on how ‘she’ll never be good enough for anything’ and her father’s callous indifference to her cries for help and solace only added to his rage. Combined with the way her ex-boyfriend, the repugnant gnat, treated her (he cheated on her with someone who ‘wasn’t built like a blimp’ and ‘the only thing you thing you had going for you were your tits’) and he wanted to speed up the invasion just to watch the horror become engrained onto their faces.

And yet, she endeavored to treat everyone with kindness harkening back to your grandmother. She strived to be the one light in one’s otherwise miserable existence.

Well, she can be his light as his Elskan and Queen.

Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to stick to the plan. When he conquers Midgard, she will be their queen. She will grace the undeserving masses with her elegance and beauty and he will worship her every chance he got.

He just had to make her see it that way.

Gently, the light forest green glow of Loki's magic flowed from his hand to the crown of her head like a halo. He leaned in and kissed her cheek with a smile as he left.

He hated to leave her, but he had a realm to conquer. Though he hoped she’d enjoy the introductory gift.

––––––

You were in your grandmother’s living room; spacious yet comfy with all of her quirkiness and splendor included. It was odd since you haven’t been in her house since your parents sold after her death seven years ago. You tearfully smiled remembering all the good times you had with her, the only member of your family you gave you any true warmth or love.

Her piano was in the corner, barely aged a day with all the music sheets, pens, a light scratches you came to know and love. You took your seat and started to play the piano version of one of your favorite movie themes.

You were so engrossed in playing, you failed to notice someone materializing into your dreamscape.

“What a lovely tune! What is it called?” A smooth, honey-tinged voice broke your concentration.

You turned your head and saw what had to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was tall (6’ 10” / 2.08m) easily towering over any man you’ve ever met. He had smooth alabaster skin, light rose undertones with a little blue-red just under his eyes. His cheekbones were immaculate, somehow looked sharp and soft at the same time. He had thin lips with a fair plumpness to the bottom one. His slicked-back, shoulder-length Ponzu/Shadow Purple hair kissed his lean, battle-hardened physique (if the way he’s filling out his outfit was anyway to go by). All of this deliciousness was clothed in a casual Palm Green suit with a Glossy Black tie and shoes.

It took you a full minute to stop ogling him, “Wha-What did you say?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady. I asked what you were playing.” His voice had hints of mirth which was odd considering his appearance. Most people in his league would give you a thinly veiled sneer of disgust, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“Um, well, it’s called Merry-Go-Round of Life from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a favorite of mine. I used to play it all the time until…” You trailed off, not wanting to revisit how your grandmother died.

“You do not have to tell me if it brings you such displeasure.”

“Thank you, um…”

“Loki. Please, call me Loki.”

“Loki,” he inwardly moaned at the way you said his name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Please, continue playing.”

And you did for what felt like hours, all while your sexy dream companion asked about your hopes, dreams, anything he could think of really. You in turn asked him about his life and interests; you even laughed at a story of his brother having to dress like a bride to get his hammer back.

You soon became enamored with Loki. It was refreshing to be noticed with actual interest, not ridicule or pity. He seemed to taken with you as well, if his gentle caresses and not-so-subtle lustful glances he gave you were any indication.

You were glad this was just a dream. You didn’t want your heart to break like last time.

Loki was about to lean in for a kiss when everything faded to black.

–––––

You jolted up from the mattress and screamed once you realized you weren’t in your room.

No, this room was…spectacular for lack of better word. It had high ceilings, large windows, ornate chandeliers, and magnificent balcony. Luxurious dark greens, gold, and black covered the room in splendor. Extravagant pieces of furniture dripped with precious stones metal worthy of queens or royal mistresses of old.

“What is this place?”

You tried to leave but was forced back onto the bed by a force field. You tried to take calm breaths just like your therapist taught you in order to make an escape plan.

No sooner did you calm down than the door open to reveal-

“Loki!”

Only Loki was wearing radically different clothing; looked like he walked right out of a fantasy epic. And yet, his smile was enchanting.

“What am I doing here? I need to go back home.”

He tutted in response, “That would not be wise, Elskan Mín. This world is mine now and this is safest place to be.” He was right. His brother’s team of desperate souls were no match for his cunning and Chitauri Forces. Midgard’s pathetic leaders gave up in less than an hour once their beloved ‘heroes’ were defeated, broken, and laid bare before them.

“You can’t be serious, Loki. I need to leave.”

“And go where? Like I said, this realm is mine now. That rat poison of a dwelling is no more and I have dealt with your ‘family’ as needed.” Loki smirked at the memories. It gave him extreme joy squeezing the life out of that worthless pig of mother, breaking every bone in your father’s body one by one, and leaving your ‘perfect’ sister alive with partially rotten skin. Not even the scavengers or maggots would find or want the remains of the scurvy insect of an ex-boyfriend, though he was still alive..just barely.

Well, at least until he decided on how to destroy the blight of creature.

Though he did make sure to leave two of your real friend were treated well. You needed to have someone to talk to while he was away.

You gazed into his Spearmint colored eyes in one last attempt, “Please Loki! If you love me, you’ll let me go!”

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw hurt in his eyes and he glided across the room. You back hit the headboard in you sad efforts to get away from him.

“Elskan Mín, I promise to always love, cherish, and worship every part of your glorious body. You will become Midgard’s queen and my goddess. No. One. Will. Ever. Demean. Or. Slight. You. Again.” he punctuated each word of the last sentence with soft, open-mouthed kisses to your face, neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

You tried to fight him, but it felt so good. His touches sent shots of lightning to your core; plus his lips and fingers were cook to the touch provided excellent contrast to the spike in heat.

You started crying realizing how pathetic this was, to have the first person to profess such feelings be a kidnapper. You were actually contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Loki sensed your sorrow and kissed your tears away. “I know this might be ‘difficult’ at first, but you will love me in time.” He hoped he did not have to use the scepter.

You thought about your dream and all of the effort he was putting into this. It was frightening, but it came from a place of love.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay.

–––––––

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#loki (marvel)#loki x reader #marvel loki x reader #dark loki #loki x female reader #loki x plus-sized reader #mcu imagine #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu au #loki imagines #loki imagines angst #mcu fanfiction #his match #oge answers #tom hiddleston

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mxpseudonym · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Polly Shelby wants you, a shy, single, slightly anxious churchgoer, to meet her nephew, the dangerous gangster Tommy Shelby. He’s more than gentlemanly at first glance, which only adds to his attractive charm. After weeks of being on edge and going no farther than heavy petting, you finally decide to push for having Tommy devour you. However, entering the bedroom with Tommy Shelby means you’ll have to follow his saucy rules. Agreeing requires a verbal, enthusiastic, “Yes, Sir” and leaving your shame at the door.

Length: 2738 words (allegedly)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, lite Dom/sub, Consensual as all hell

A/N: Sorry I’m late, but honestly that’s very me so. Anyway, hope you’re ready because I am y/n, you are y/n, we are all y/n this time round. 😏

"Need some help?"

You looked up from where you were kneeling on the floor to see none other than Polly Shelby. You'd pulled your rosary too tight again, and the thread snapped from the tension. Now, before you could stop her, Polly was kneeling and helping you pick them up.

Polly was always kind to you. When needed, she shared her hymn book and complimented your church hats that matched your dresses particularly well. Even though you never had much to say, she was always casually chatting with you.

"You're not seeing anyone, are you?" Polly asked, catching you off guard. Was this why she was so lovely? Two women in an empty church, and one of them confesses to the other. What would God say?

"I'm not."

"You should meet my nephew, Thomas. I think you'd make quite the pair."

You smiled at the invitation. It wasn't out of flattery, per se, but more because you knew it must have been difficult for Polly to be an aunt taking on her duty as a familial matchmaker when her nephews ran the most dangerous gang in Small Health. Polly didn't seem like the type to let anything happen to you if things didn't work out on a simple date, and you felt indebted to her for being such a good friend to you. So you nodded.

"Well, if he asked me to dinner, I'm sure I wouldn't say no."

You didn't think much of it, quite frankly. In the year that you'd been in Small Heath, you'd turned down enough dinner invitations to be thought of as a godly woman and a prude. Not that you minded. You were single and childless in the newly bustling city of Birmingham, and living alone for the first time in your life was a luxury you didn't want to give up. You had your mother's pistol tucked in your bag and a vague idea of how to shoot it, so you were safe enough, but the added rumor that you were unapproachable was helpful.

If anything, what surprised you most was Thomas Shelby actually showing up to church that Sunday. Even leaning against the stone wall outside with a cigarette in hand was enough to cause a stir as the congregation poured out of the church.

He was a handsome man, and his cool, certain eyes seemed to see right through you. Even with your heart thumping in your chest, gravitating towards him was only natural. He was waiting for you, after all.

"Y/n L/n?" He asked, his voice deep and telling of his : upbringing. It fit him well, you thought as you looked at him from under your sun hat.

"Mr. Shelby," you said with a nod.

"My aunt seemingly won't rest until I ask you to dinner," he said, dipping a hand into his pocket to reach for more cigarettes.

"Oh? Is this you doing it?"

Tommy's head tilted at you as he took in your smile and looked you over. You were already a bit bold for someone who was meeting a hoodlum. A smirk crept onto his face. He wasn't complaining.

"Ms. l/n, would you have dinner with me?" He asked. You paused, causing him to sigh and pull out his cigarettes. "My aunt promised I wouldn't get rejected by a beautiful woman if I got the courage to ask. Now I'm embarrassed."

"I'm sure you're not," you said, laughing to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "But I will go to dinner with you, Mr. Shelby. I did promise Miss Shelby." Tommy looked you over again before nodding.

"I look forward to it."

.:.

When Tuesday evening rolled around, Tommy was at your doorstep in a fine suit. If you had any doubt about your long, beaded dress being nice enough, Tommy pushed the thoughts away in an instant.

"You look stunning, Miss l/n," he praised you while holding out his arm.

"Thank you, Tommy. You look very handsome tonight as well."

There was an air of authority about him, yet his gaze was soft when he met your eyes and smiled. The car ride was comfortable enough and did nothing to prepare you for the exquisite venue. The ceilings were high, and the decor was elegant.

"It's my job to find a venue a quarter as lovely as the woman accompanying me, isn't it," Tommy said when you mentioned that it was possibly too fancy for you.

"Oh please," you murmured, waving away the compliment.

At some point throughout the night, you wondered if you'd been on a better date. Tommy took care of everything, from directing the butlers in their penguin suits to ordering things he seemed to know you'd like. ON your own, you'd have spent half an hour choosing a meal, and god only knew how long getting a server's attention. But tonight, you were left to focus on his witty storytelling that left you laughing behind your napkin. Tommy raised a hand and grasped yours. It was a small amount of contact but, perhaps the wine or the man himself made you want more of his warmth. All too soon, he gently pulled your hand down and into your lap.

"Don't hide. I want to hear more from you," Tommy said. Your cheeks flashed hot as your mind took a naughty detour for a moment.

"Okay, Tommy."

It was after dinner that truly hooked you to the man. He wrapped you in his jacket before helping you into his car and driving you home. His hand rested on your knee on the way back. Yet, when he stood in front of your door, you were greeted with a hug. You didn't realize it until you leaned into his embrace that you were a bit anxious about a goodnight kiss or even Tommy pushing his way into your apartment. Gangster or not, he was a strong man with a domineering personality. He could have anything he wanted. You hadn't guessed that meant a simple hug and a request for a second date. Still, it left you smiling as you watched his car drive away from the entrance of your apartment.

.:.

"Ah, this is favorite."

"Really?"

"Winston Churchill himself recommended it."

You turned to Tommy with a skeptical eye.

"Liar."

"How could I find the strength to lie to you, y/n?"

You rolled your eyes but turned back to the new gramophone in front of you. You had several dates with Tommy, and his gentlemanly behavior only continued. He never tried anything scandalous or forward, even as he managed to charm you to high heaven. There were times you wondered if, and perhaps even secretly hoped for, Tommy would move his hand up your thigh or kiss your neck. But it seemed that every date was an opportunity for him to learn more about you. He was more perceptive than you knew. He understood what you wanted and even made you feel like he could read your mind sometimes.

You'd had partners before, even an adulterous ex-fiance, but with them, it felt like they were trying to learn your secrets to use against you. With Tommy, it seemed like he used that information to make you happy. Your eyes lit up when he brought you your favorite kind of pastry and a new scarf in your favorite color.

His latest gift was the record player, and you shamelessly used the gift of music as an excuse to finally invite Tommy inside after a month of dating when it was clear he wouldn't do it himself.

"You're quite the gentleman, Mr. Shelby," you mused as you slow danced in your living room. Tommy's hand flattened over your spine and pulled you closer.

"I'd say you're bringing out the best in me yet, Ms. y/l/n."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against yours. You moaned softly against his lips as your swaying left the rhythm of the song to match you and Tommy. There was a hunger in his kiss that made you wonder just how much he was holding back. He could have any woman he wanted, you thought, but he was patiently kissing you to your liking and no more. His hand moved to thumb the buttons on your dress, and you pulled away gently. A guiding hand on your lower back or a calloused hand helping you out of the Bentley made your heart flutter, yet you still hesitated to take things further.

"Wait, Tommy."

"Hm?"

"Not yet," you said shyly, not able to look him in the eyes. Tommy smirked at you. Little did you know, this confirmed several things he knew about you.

"Good girl."

Your eyes shot up to his in shock. What was this? His choice of words, his praise, the feeling of your insides warming all filled you with a sense of wonder. There was something in his eyes that looked satisfied and almost like an invitation. Would you accept? Accept what exactly?

Not knowing the question or your answer, you kissed him again.

.:.

Good girl.

Those two words were planted in your mind like seeds meant to sprout a specific restlessness.

You thought about it passively for a while. At first, you wondered if you should be upset. Was Tommy treating you like a child? But nothing he did ever made it feel that way. If anything, Tommy was the one person who treated you most like a woman. After a few weeks, you began to think of it too often. On your lunches with Tommy or when he took you to the horse races, you wondered if he'd repeat it. You were eager to hear him say it.

When you thought about it alone in the bath, you realized you couldn't hold it together much longer. Your eyes fluttered closed as you remembered that night. But memories turned to fantasy, and you could feel his breath against your ear.

"Good girl. You're a good girl, y/n."

Your hands moved before you could think much about it. It had been a while since you'd done this, sliding a delicate finger between your legs.

"Good girl," you whispered, your voice echoing off the walls and sending the praise back to you. You swirled your clit and repeated it again. Thinking of all the ways Tommy had touched you, even innocently, remembering the feeling and that casual smirk he wore. "Tommy, fuck, yes, I'm a good girl- ah!"

Your thighs squeezed your hand as your hips jerked with a strong release. Your eyes opened, and you stared at the ceiling.

"This is getting ridiculous."

.:.

Tommy was just a little too good at listening to you, you decided. Anything you told him not to do was met with praise, and he'd never do it again. You'd expected, based on past experiences with men, that Tommy would try to push you until you were just where he wanted you. Instead, you were the one spacing out during dinner while admiring how good he looked in his suit. Would you prefer it on or off if he were devouring you?

Tommy asked if you felt alright, which made you ashamed to even think the way you were. When did you get so lewd? It was in your apartment that Tommy let you know he knew exactly what you were thinking. You sat next to him on your couch, handing him a nightcap of brandy.

"Y/n, you know that I care about you, don't you?"

"Yes, of course." You nodded quickly. Was this actually the end of things? You hoped not.

"I care about you more than I thought I could. And one of those reasons is because you know what you want," said Tommy as he sat his glass down.

Your brows furrowed at the words. You thought you were indecisive and unable to speak up. If only Tommy knew how you'd been suffering. He continued after reading the confusion on your face.

"Whenever we come back here, you know how far you want to go, and you know when to make a man like me stop."

"Oh,"

"I won't push you, love. I'm as patient as ever, so if you want more or less, that's up to you. It's whatever you'd like."

Tommy leaned over and placed a hand on your knee reassuringly, though it only helped your heart beat harder. You shifted in your seat, uneasy with the amount of power you realized you had.

"I see."

"If we do go further, I'd like to implement a few rules. How does that sound?"

"Rules?" You tilted your head. You liked rules and systems. Even as a coat check girl, you were known for your orderly approach to things.

"Yes, if you decide that's something you want to explore, we'll talk then. But no need to worry about it until you're ready."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about doing more," you said bashfully, though it was a lie. You'd planned to simply move Tommy's hand under your skirt and have him put you out of your misery.

"Come here, y/n."

Tommy brought you to sit on his lap. His hand caressed your thigh, and the other was around your waist. Your arms wrapped around him as your reveled in the feeling of safety.

"Alright, Mr. Shelby, what are they?"

"I'm going to tell you them, and you need to remember the order, alright?" He asked, and you nodded, only to have him tsk you. "Ah, love, when I ask you a question, I want to hear your voice. I want to make sure you're sure. That's rule number one: everything we do requires a verbal agreement. Try it now."

"Oh, then, yes. I'll remember the order, Tommy."

"Good girl," he praised, making you smile softly. "Rule number two is that you can't cum until I tell you, alright sweetheart?"

"Tommy!" You jolted in surprise. You didn't know what you thought he was going to say, but that was not it. He chuckled at your reaction and squeezed your waist. He would have stopped if you asked, but for now, he was well aware that you were already starting to squirm in his lap. His sweetheart liked being a little flustered, didn't you?

"Rule number three is that I am in charge of your body. I have full access to it, and you, love," Tommy reached up and tilted your chin so he could give you a saccharine kiss, "you may not touch yourself unless I say."

The mix of salacious words and tender caresses sent waves of desire straight to the apex of your thighs. Could Tommy tell that you'd been doing just that?

"Rule four is that you have to tell me when you don't like something. You do that so well already, and I'm proud of you for that."

"T-thank you," you murmured. You couldn't help but bite your lip. Such simple words of praise were sending you into a mild frenzy.

"When you want me to stop, just say 'no more, I'm satisfied.' Can you do that?" He asked you, and you nodded. This time, however, you quickly remembered what Tommy told you before.

"Yes. No more. I'm satisfied," you repeated the phrase while wondering when you'd use it.

"You can say that for anything at all. If you're uncomfortable, or even just a little too tired."

"Okay."

You nodded in agreement, though you couldn't help be feel nervous. After weeks of nothing more than a mild groping hand, Tommy was proving to be this person? But maybe it was the way that you couldn't stop yourself from squirming, trying to press your legs together for some type of friction that made you equally excited. Tommy kissed you again and held your chin.

"Sweetheart, I promise that I'll use these to make you feel really good. I hope you can trust me, and I trust you to use that voice of yours and tell me when you don't like something, yes?"

"Yes."

"Do you agree then? Do those rules sound good to you?" He asked you directly.

"Yes," you nodded, then softly adjusted. Something in you made you want to add, "Yes, Sir."

Tommy squeezed your thigh, and you looked to his eyes to see a burning fierceness in them. He really enjoyed that. It was nice knowing he wasn't embarrassing you. You were in this together.

"Good girl."

#As You Please Series #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Smut #Dom!Tommy #Tommy Shelby Imagine #spicy writing

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years ago

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I’m guessing all Vmins were right Sweet night is about the past. I guess it’s why Tae give it for the movie instead of for his mixtape. I’m guessing JM gave him the ok to do so and why he’s been silent about it cause it’s over between them. TK are making it too obvious. jk treating JM like they aren’t friends suddenly. jk in purple/green all the time. v not shutting up about jk suddenly. JM is not handling it well. I guess it’s why v said he likes JM the most (guess as friend) cause he feels bad

Admin 1: “Sure, go and release a song easily identified as being about us and your hope of me giving you a second chance with a hopeful ending seeing as we aren’t together anymore, sounds like a nice idea to me. Go, Taehyungie, do it. Then also let me hold your hand on national TV and show it to the cameras happily, smile sweetly at you while we stand next to the president, talk about our song and memories and how much they mean to me, perform this song that's essentially a love letter to our bond in a live-streamed concert for almost 800k people, and when you tell me you like me the most, I’ll say I like you a lot as well. Because we’re over and not even friends anymore.” Sounds like some sound logic to me, and I mean that in the most sarcastic way possible to humans.

Honestly, either I’ve just been around too long and all these asks are starting to sound the same and impossibly uncreative, or they are just getting more farfetched and bizarre. If you want a proper answer, I told you, bring something to the table that hasn’t been talked to dust yet, or leave it be.

To quote Tae, the man who knows best what he feels: 95z is love.

Until he (and Jimin) changes his mind, this is the answer I have for any and all Xkooker ask, as well as any other ship involving Tae or Jimin.

Also yes, I did see the hate against Jimin that exploded yesterday, we even have an ask about it in our inbox, and honestly these types of questions, anon? Yeah, you're not helping, in fact, you are part of the problem, just saying.

Admin 2: Man, man, man!

We didn't really want to answer these types of questions anymore, but this ask takes the trophy when it comes to delulu/nonsensical questions, so I decided to answer it after all. Because it’s hot and I need a distraction.

Also, this question basically confirms most of our suspicions we’ve had so far. Let me explain.

Folks, who is behind these kinds of stories which are being presented and preached as truth on various sns?

I don't believe this is any single persons invention (in this case, that anon came up with this idea “without help”), if anything it’s the result of delulu, and often times toxic, scenarios and stories created by a group of people intended to further a narrative and actively disrupt the “peace” within ARMY (or at least that’s what it feels like since all these things do is ignite hate and toxicity). Where is the origin of it all? Ship centric YouTube channels.

It is very evident that these "imaginative creators/shippers" behind those videos have no consideration of the consequences and harm their content does because, in my opinion, the more controversial and clickbait-y, the better. You know why? More views means more money, which is the goal of it all. We’ve spoken about this before, I believe, how these videos on “ship evidence” and “ship drama” for Xkookers are the most beloved topics of these videos and thus make up one of the easiest means of generating income, in some cases even something upward of $80k a year depending on the channels CPM, sub and view count.

The average person has to work hard all year round to make this amount of money, if they even have a job that brings in that much. So, it is not surprising that these content creators go very far in their fantasies to support their claims and keep their viewers/costumers engaged and coming back.

I wouldn't be surprised if the creators (or rather the whole lot of them) of both Xkook camps are basically the same people, because their ideas, conclusions and explanations all sound the same and follow the same nonsensical patters. Which is why we’ve already told you many times that the best thing you can do is stay away from this type of content altogether.

So! Let's analyze this ask a little more:

"…Vmins were right Sweet Night is about the past. I guess it’s why Tae give it for the movie instead of for his mixtape."

Ok, let's say Tae wrote "Sweet Night" for Jimin, but in the meantime he has changed his feelings (that's how I understand the question) so he gave the song to the Itaewon Class OST instead of putting it on his mixtape. I wanted to note that Taehyung's mixtape isn't finished yet and we will probably wait many more months for it.

It seems to me that Taehyung really wanted to show his feelings to the world, so he saw an opportunity with the OST, and therefore a quicker release for SN, and took it. The fact is that SN is about the past, but there is also hope for the future, hope for the fulfillment of wishes, which likely did come true judging by how Tae said he wrote SN during tour abroad (so sometimes summer/early autumn 2019 perhaps) and we saw vmin holding hands at the airport on Tae’s birthday in 2019 when they thought no one would see, just three months before SN was released (and likely long schedules for said release since these types of things don’t just happen overnight) and many, many other such things.

“I suspect that JM gave him his consent and why he kept silent about it because it was over between them, TK makes it too obvious. "

And I suspect that Jimin was very touched by Sweet Night and ultimately wrote Friends in which him and Tae sing: “Many promises and memories / and more to come / Someday, when these cheers die down, stay hey / You are my soulmate”

The fact is that BTS didn't say much about SN, but it was the same with many of their other SC releases as well, so it wasn’t unusual, especially since SN came out while they were promoting MOTS7. Also, in my opinion, the content of this song is too personal to be able to describe/discuss the song in detail beyond the bit that was mentioned during Tae’s vlive with Namjoon. During a Japanese interview, the members basically confirmed/pointed out how romantic Tae is and when SN came up, Namjoon “coincidentally” turned around toward Jimin who has a similar facial expression of pressed lips as he did during Let’s BTS.

"JK treats JM as if they suddenly weren't friends"

And here I have caught you, dear anon. I think you're not even looking at the original BH content, but that instead you are basing your conclusions and opinions on manipulative YT ship videos instead because if you would’ve watched the original content like RUN, the recent SOWOOZOO concerts, and interviews, you wouldn’t arrive anywhere near such thoughts and conclusions.

Jimin and JK are still close, also Jimin calls JK his little brother (dongsaeng) and JK describes Jimin (or associates these words with him) as charm and cute. Does there seem to be any kind of conflict between Jimin and Jungkook? Certainly not, no.

„JK always in purple / green. v not shutting up about jk suddenly."

You mean their microphone colors? I wanted to point out how Tae wore a yellow shirt during the concert, which is the same color as the chick emoji ARMY associates with Jimin as well as his mic color. LOL.

As far as I know, when Tae has something to say, he will say it, and if he is praising JKs songs, and especially You Eyes Tell which we know is a song Tae liked a lot, that is a good thing. It simply means Tae appreciates the song JK created, appreciates and values his talents and hard work. If the entire band praises Namjoon and his lyrics/contributions on their songs, does that automatically also mean all six are “not shutting up about him” and therefore must be in love and in a relationship with him, or it’s an indicator of it? If anything, it’s merely an indicator that Tae is an honest person and JK did a good job on those songs. Easy as that.

That's my favorite part of the question: "JM doesn't handle it that well. I think that's why I said he likes JM best (as a friend, I guess) because he feels bad."

Personally, I consider myself a person with a great imagination, but I wouldn't really come up with a scenario like that.

How cruel of a person do you think Tae is? Imagine they aren’t together anymore or close anymore, or whatever else you tried to insinuate anon, and then Tae would go on national TV and do this whole thing of asking for the card in his letter to Jimin to be blurred and then said “Jimin-ah I like you the most”? To do something as hurtful as that you either have to be a sadist or an asshole and I’d like to believe even you, anon, don’t think in such a way about Tae, of all people.

Perhaps that’s something dumb teenagers or kids would do, but not adult men in their mid-twenties who see each other every single day, are part of the same team and have to work with each other. This is real life, not a soap opera. If these types of dramas really would be happening within BTS, they would’ve stopped existing as a band a long time ago because no one would be able to live with such actions and people for a prolonged amount of time. BTS are grown men, best friends, even found family, and not actors on a badly written TV show for our entertainment where they act out increasingly stupid relationship drama in which JK somehow ended up being the toy going from hand to hand like he’s not even an actual person anymore.

In summary, this question was written by a child, teenager, or an emotionally immature person naïve enough to buy into outlandish ship narratives.

Anon, hear what the members had to say during FESTA 2021. Make your own conclusions and stop watching and believing the nonsense on YouTube. As Tae said: Get out of your imagination. It’s not good in there.

#answered ask #vmin

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years ago

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My king au headcannon Part two

So this is the follow up to this post Which is a headcanon for this au created by @rondoel Enjoy!

Something to think about The king was meditating. He was trying to familiarize himself with the mindscape again, get a better feeling of it and see what his halves had done since the split. He was sorely disappointed. There were pages upon pages of ideas, but he found no evidence of them in the fantasy realm. No traces of the epic quests the ‘light’ half had envisioned, despite how well worked out they appeared. An ‘Ultimate Storytime’ should have left traces in the kingdom. Remus at least lived out his ideas even if they were only ever half formed and lacked substance beyond the initial impulse that brought them about. The results of these outbursts weren’t all that impressive either. He didn’t examine the ideas too closely. Obviously his perfectionistic half had abandoned them for a reason and so they weren’t worth his time. The one named Roman had spent some time in the fantasy realm, but he didn’t considered it his main duty. Instead he’d wasted time on crafting ‘ideas’ and ‘bonding’ with the others. Even the impulsive Remus had prioritized interacting with Deceit over expressing himself. Disgusting. Not that he could truly fault either of his halves. Other than his purpose every trace of him had been purged from their minds during the split. They hadn’t known to distrust the others the way he knew they should’ve. Obviously the others were to blame for all this.

As he thought of them he could feel his minister’s energy surging and subsiding in subtle burst and raging waves. One of Roman’s nickname for him ‘Stormy Knight’ seemed to suit the boy quite well at the moment. The minister was mostly alone, aside from morality. Someone had to babysit him he supposed. Suddenly he became aware of music… something strange yet familiar. “Disney. Medley.” A faint memory offered him. He remembered Disney. It was his aspiration to create worlds and adventures just as amazing for Thomas to escape to when the real world inevitably bored him. Clearly he hadn’t been gone long enough for that to change. Though he didn’t recognize the melody that was currently playing, even though he could tell that it wasn’t something obscure and nearly forgotten to Thomas. The entire imagination responded to the melody as if it was an old friend. Almost as if it was born here even. There were voices singing, a magnificent harmony. Powerful and foreboding. He followed the sound of the voices and soon saw a structure appear. As he approached he found it was a massive statue expertly carved from marble. Center stage stood a figure he recognized as Thomas holding his hands in front of him to form a heart. A brilliant smile on his face. It was heartwarming to see his boy like that. To Thomas’ left stood grown Morality with one arm thrown over his shoulder and another pulling the hooded side, Anxiety, his minister, into the group. The young side allowed it with a small smirk and gentle eyes directed at their protégé. On Thomas’ right stood Logic, a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder as he adjusted his glasses, which did not conceal the fond look on the man’s face. On Logic’s right stood Deceit, his back slightly turned to the rest and adjusting his hat, but also with a soft, caring expression gracing his features. Then right behind Thomas, standing slightly taller than they would have in reality, seemingly standing on a stage behind the group, but close enough to still be part of the ensemble, was him. Or the two sides that had been him for a while. Roman looked regal and was posing as though he had not a care in the world, his eyes proudly overseeing his subjects. Not minding the presence of Remus who was hanging of his ‘brother’s’ shoulders and making a face. It was an idyllic picture that never was and now never could be. There was beauty in it’s tragic impossibility. At the feet of the stone depictions were stone letters. Fam in cursive and then in big bold lines ILY. And leaning against the L was the minister, singing the song that had lured King away from his meditation. The shadows around him were aiding in his musical endeavor drifting around him and the statue. King took in the marvel once more, wondering how the nervous side had managed to create such a blessing with what should’ve been a cruel curse for at least a few more days before King would grant the young one his council and guidance. He hadn’t enjoyed being cruel to him. Not entirely. Sure, he had opposed creativity in the past and deserved to be disciplined. But king also knew how integral he was to the process. Roman’s discoveries regarding that weren’t lost to him. He couldn’t silence Anxiety completely. He would not get Thomas to go on adventures at all if he did so. But he had to teach him his place now, before he got any ideas of fighting him. The minister had been about to try just that and might have been successful too if he’d gone all out at once. But luckily he seemed unaware of his own abilities, or at least unwilling to use them on what he still thought to be the twins he’d known all his life. Alas he’d never get the opportunity again. “It all can be sold!” the shadows chorused around the teen-like side, captivating baby Morality with their movements as the little one clutched to the dark uniform and distracting King from his musings. “As a specimen yes I’m intimidating!” One voice continued, drifting around the side who was swaying to the music playing in his headphones with his eyes closed, holding onto Morality and then the dark clad side sang himself. “You can blame my friends on the ooootheeeer siiiiiiiiiide.” And just like that the shadows dispersed. Mostly anyway. They still swirled around the minister, but they were more of a dark aura than when they originally manifested. Anxiety seemed to be in better spirits than when he came to offer his ridiculous apology to Roman. King barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the memory. What a waste of time. Still it had been sincere, at least it seemed to be. And King wasn’t completely insensitive. He could understand that it would be hard for this young one to let go of his halves when he had never known them as one. Perhaps, King could cut him a little slack. Though he would have to remain vigilant… Hmmm, why did that word feel so odd when thinking about… Right, Virgil. Everyone had names now. Not that he cared much for those. Names were too… Names were for friends, allies. He didn’t need a name, nor did his subjects. Lest any of them forget who was in charge. King wouldn’t. Never again. The infant noticed that they were no longer alone in the room and tugged at Anxiety’s hair to get his attention. In response Thomas’ guardian pulled off his headphones and looked down at the heart. “What’s wrong popstar… or… Well, doesn’t really fit right now I guess,” Anxiety chuckled a little sadly. “Guess I’m more the dad now than you, huh?” he mused. “When this is all over, I promise I’ll never complain about you treating me like your kid again.” There was an uneasiness forming in King’s stomach. Anxiety was close with Morality, both Roman and Remus remembered that. But… how close was Morality with Anxiety? King knew that their ‘moral compass’ could be as two faced as Deceit. No, this could be part of an elaborate plan to gain his trust, he’d fallen for it once before. And of course they’d send Anxiety to do their dirty work now that all of them had already shown him their true colors. Little Morality pointed at King and Anxiety looked up, curious at first and then his eyes widened in fear. He put the child behind him and stood in a strange mixture of a respectful bow and a defensive stance. Arms slightly spread to shield his friend and head raised so he didn’t quite let his eyes leave King’s frame. “I…I’m sorry if I was too loud,” Anxiety offered with trembling voice, assuming he’d angered his king someway. Good. King approached, not sure if he was in the mood to scold or to praise just yet, but stopped about three steps in front of Anxiety as his foot hit something. He looked down and saw that the floor surrounding his minister was covered in sketches. He looked up at Anxiety with a raised brow, curious to hear what had brought on this little storm of creativity. And he found him staring at the sketches around them in horror. Then he seemingly felt the structure behind him, he turned and looked up in horror, trembling even harder. He looked back at King with wide eyes. “I…I didn’t mean to…” he started. “Then I look forward to see what you create for me when you intend to do so young one,” King mutters calmly, as he bids one of the drawings to come to his hand. As far as he can tell it’s two children playing in a forest. “Tell me about this one boy,” he instructs as he shows Anxiety the drawing. The side takes the sketch with a frown and looks at it for a moment before a small smile of recognition appears on his face. “I’d manifested for about two months. Remus felt it was about time I came on an adventure,” he starts explaining, and as he does the drawing rises up and gains colors and details that weren’t there before. Anxiety didn’t seem to notice, too captivated by his own memory as he described how freaked out he was by the forest and all its creepy creatures. Remus never let a single one touch him though. Still, it was stressful for him and he didn’t come along as often as Remus would like. The painting showed two preteens, Remus and Anxiety, the later clutching a comfort item, pillow or blanket, King wasn’t sure, maybe it was a stuffed animal. They were running around and laughing. But in their shadows Anxiety was curled up in a ball and Remus was making a gesture as if he’d just popped out and screamed ‘boo’. A lovely memory with a shadow side. But that was the nicest thing Anxiety could create with the power King had granted. Once the story was done and the painting finished, King snapped his fingers and conjured a dark wooden frame with a vine pattern around it and hung it on a non-existent wall. “I’m sorry, I know you said to get rid of the feelings, but I… I can’t… I always mess up like this please I…” Anxiety flinched when King reached out for him. Curling into himself, expecting another curse or some other punishment perhaps. Which is probably why his posture relaxed and his face was overcome with confused surprise when all he received was a brief pat on his hair. “You may not have gotten rid of those feelings but you did something even better,” King laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder and looked down on him. “You made something out of them. I am very pleased with you,” he informed his disciple. Anxiety looked up at him confused. “Really?” he asked, his voice breaking over the single word. Before King could answer, a displeased cooing pulled Anxiety’s attention away. He turned around and picked up the infant who immediately latched onto his neck and stared at King over his shoulder. Clearly the infant retained enough of Morality’s adult thoughts to be wary of him. Good it wouldn’t be a proper curse if the traitor wasn’t aware of the danger King posed to him and his precious family. King grinned menacingly at Morality, hoping it’d confirm the child’s worst fears about his intentions for who he apparently considered a son. What could be worse than agonizing over the fact that your sins would result in an innocent paying for them? For that innocent to be your child of course. “Please Pat, behave alright?” Anxiety muttered as he got up and turned back to the king. “Sorry… Your majesty. He’s a bit clingy,” the young man offered nervously. “Not your fault. I don’t quite understand why Logic and Deceit would leave the care for such a fussy child to their youngest.” Not quite true, King could perfectly see how they thought they had to concentrate on finding a weapon against him that they hadn’t tried already. But still. One would think that the two oldest should be in charge of protecting both their young ones, instead of letting them wander off into the territory of their enemy. If Anxiety had failed to entertain him with his tale, who knows what he would’ve done to amuse himself during this second visit? Maybe he’d put morality in a bit of a dilemma… He might still do so if he ever needed for Anxiety to see that his ‘dad’ didn’t love him as much as he always claimed. “Taking care of him keeps my mind occupied. I don’t want to give Thomas nightmares or anxiety attacks. He doesn’t deserve to suffer for our messes,” Anxiety explained. King might be mistaken, but that almost sounded accusatory. He elected to ignore it. Once his rule was properly reestablished, he could revisit the subject if at all necessary, which he doubted. “Well, creating art seems to do the trick just as well,” he mused as he called forth another picture. Anxiety guessed what he wanted, looked at the picture and started to talk about the movie night and a popcorn fight, then a duel with cardboard swords and laughing about memories of middle school. The colors once again revealed a pleasant day, with a shadow of self-doubt and fear of abandonment. The shadows showed Anxiety pleading on his knees while Roman threatened him with a sword. This time the frame King made was golden and held roses. “C…Can I ask something milord,” Anxiety asked timidly. “Questions are always welcomed in the realm of creativity,” King decreed. Questions created possibilities. “What happened? Before the split I mean? The other’s won’t ever tell me.” That surprised King. And from the way Morality stiffened, he had to assume it was the truth. They’d really not taken the chance to sway Anxiety’s opinion in their favor? For a moment he considers spinning a grand tale of betrayal and heartbreak, but he found the very thought of recalling the details of the events leading up to the split… unpleasant. “I trusted them and they turned against me because they disagreed with my vision for Thomas,” he informed Anxiety calmly, hoping it was enough for now. “I’m sorry. That… That is terrible,” he whispered hugging Morality closer. The young minister couldn’t see it but there were tears in Morality’s eyes. Which pleased King. Let the bespectacled traitor be afraid this may end up being the last hug he’ll ever receive from his precious Anxiety. Was this why they didn’t tell him? Because they knew that there was no spin they could give to their deeds that wouldn’t destroy the trust they’d built with the one among them who already feared being betrayed. “I… It was a long time ago. I think… Logan seemed very ashamed of what happened. Even Janus seems to feel bad. I’m sure… can’t we all…” Anxiety struggled to express his desires, but a new drawing showed what he wanted. King and Logic shaking hands amidst the others, all back to normal and smiling relieved. Faint shadows of Roman and Remus with an arm around one another’s shoulders right behind King. The fact that his minister’s powers had conjured it showed that the desire felt impossible. King dismissed this drawing in favor of another. Anxiety sighed, accepting that the subject was finished, and continued to regale him with stories of the twins. Sometimes it was a sad memory where the shadows revealed his care and worry for them both. Like a fight over a failed audition where shadow Anxiety was trying to patch up shadow Roman. Or a fight about a nightmare where the shadow of Anxiety was embracing Remus. Then memories of the other’s came. A debate about negative thoughts where shadow Logic laid a hand on shadow Anxiety’s shoulder as a gesture of pride. A staring match with Deceit but their shadows were reaching for each other. One memory had no shadows. The ‘lights’ were in Anxiety’s domain and reaching out for him as he sat huddled in on himself on the ground. The image was conflicted enough on it’s own. Then King picked up a drawing of Morality. “That’s the first time you came to talk to me remember Pat?” Virgil coed to the child who’d been rather quiet during the creation of this gallery. Anxiety recalled how he’d been upset about another fight with Roman and he’d come over and sat with him in silence. Then he’d offered him one of his cookies. It had surprised Anxiety, he knew how much Morality loved his cookies. Sharing one was his standard gesture of love and appreciation. But Anxiety felt like he didn’t deserve either at the time. He felt trapped in a role he didn’t want to play. And because of Morality talking to him that day, for the first time, he thought that maybe he didn’t have to be. Anxiety talked more about how the thought was quickly dismissed as unrealistic but King found that it was hard to focus. The colors revealed a painting of a side being offered a hand by Morality. He didn’t even notice the shadows this time. It was like he was trapped in his own memories. Then suddenly, he was back in the present and heard something beside him. A wailing child and someone gasping for air like they’d ran a marathon at full speed. He looked down and found Anxiety curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth with a crying Morality sitting next to him clutching onto his arm. Before he could wonder what had happened he could feel the others approaching at high speed. He stepped back, not wanting to be found too close to the distressed side. He could not allow them to think for even a moment, that he felt a second of worry for the minister. He didn’t, but he didn’t need the implications of such a show of weakness to bring his strength into question. “Patton! Virgil!” Deceit called out, causing Morality to calm down and just let out a few more sniffles. King set up a disinterested mask and turned to the approaching sides. “Oh good, deal with this. They bore me,” he drawled calmly as he stepped aside. He was barely acknowledged which he normally would take offense in, but he’d let it slide until he knew what had happened just now. And if it had anything to do with that terrible feeling that had struck him when he saw Anxiety’s drawing. Logic kneeled next to Anxiety and Deceit spoke with Logic’s voice. “Virgil, can you hear us?” The boy nodded. “May we touch you?” Another nod and Logic placed his hands on the side’s shoulders. “Breath Virgil, in for 4, hold for 7 out for 8, you can do it.” One more nod and the side started to follow the rhythm that was tapped on his shoulders, stuttering trough the 4th count of holding his breath. “That’s alright, try again.” King observed as the two patiently helped Anxiety to breathe normally again. Somewhere along the line the troubled side started to whisper ‘sorry,’ and ‘so stupid’. “You are not stupid, your feelings are valid and we are here to help you with them. We shouldn’t have left you on your own. Especially not with him around,” Deceit growled, now in his own voice, before turning to King. “I don’t care what you do to me, but leave Virgil out of this! He has nothing to do with this.” Before king could retort. Claim the responsibility and remind Deceit that he’ll play with his minister however he likes, the boy spoke up himself. “Not his fault. Just, random attack,” he muttered. Deceit and King looked down and found Anxiety holding onto Logic with Morality trying his best to stand on wobbly legs while holding onto the purple sash adorning the minster uniform. Logic and Morality were staring at him accusatory, but Anxiety was pleading with Deceit. “You don’t have to defend him Virgil. We know what he’s like… And we’ll do a better job at protecting you now. I swear. Let us look out for you for once, please,” Deceit pleaded. So interesting. For all Anxiety’s fears of being abandoned and betrayed, the others seemed to fear for his safety before their own. Had they changed? Or had Anxiety not yet given them sufficient reason to be muzzled? Or was it his drastic decision of muzzling himself that had made them cautious of messing with his part of their duties? “I’m not. Jan look at me. You’d know if I was lying. He was just listening to me. He didn’t do anything bad. I promise.” Deceit frowned confused. “He didn’t do this to harm you? To cause you to create…” Finally Deceit really looked at what King and Anxiety had been working on and the statue Anxiety had done all by himself. “Virgil what…” “I don’t know, I was listening to music and all this just sort of happened. His majesty was helping me finish some drawings,” he explained, confusing King. Was he… what’s the term? Covering for him? Then Anxiety got up, picking up Morality and looking at Logic who followed his movements, hands hovering around him. As if he were afraid that the younger side would fall apart at any moment. “Please, just go back alright, I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping but you should focus on making sure Thomas is alright,” Anxiety explained bravely, not quite looking at the others. Had recalling all his doubts and fears made him suspicious of the others? This could benefit King greatly. “Run along now. And take Morality. I have matters to discuss with my minister. In private,” King informed Logic and Deceit. Anxiety looked from King back to his tutor and confidant and offered him Morality. Logic shook his head with wide eyes. “Logan, it’s alright. You look after Pat for a minute. I’ll be back soon. Just… Please trust me?” Logic hesitated, sighed in defeat and took the child. He moved to leave, but paused. He turned and laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder, a moment passed while the two held each other’s gaze. Anxiety nodded and patted Logic’s hand. “I will be safe. When am I ever not?” Something that would have been a chuckle rippled through Logic’s chest as he stepped away and started walking back to the commons, glancing back every ten steps or so. “Virgil… I…” Deceit started, unable to finish the thought. “I know. I’ll be okay.” And with that final assurance and a distrustful look towards King the last of the traitors left. “Why?” King wondered. It seemed obvious to him that whatever Anxiety just went through was actually meant for him. And not only had he taken the hit, he had covered for him as well. “I’m anxiety, taking on the insecurities and fears of the others is part of my job. I don’t take it all, just the really bad bits when I can take it. And… it took me forever to open up to the others about my own attacks. It wasn’t my place to share about yours. It’s nothing personal. Just me being professional I guess,” he shrugged casually. King allowed himself a small smirk and once again reached out to pat Anxiety’s hair. Once more the boy’s first instinct was to flinch, but he still let him do as he pleased. “Well done my boy. You have potential,” he told him before returning his attention to another drawing, leaving the one of Morality frameless. Later he might tell the little one a bit more about the betrayal. But first. He needed to get to know him better. “Now how about this one.”Being petted like a dog was degrading, humiliating. Trying to not just be civil towards him but formal and respectful was torture. But it was better than what he feared would happen every time the King moved his hand towards him. Virgil didn’t like being changed against his will and this king would do as he pleased with him. Which is why he had to keep him happy and away from the others. He ignored the urge to smile every time he received the king’s praise. He is not going to develop Stockholm Syndrome just because off a few half-baked complements. This guy is still a threat to Thomas… Even if the others, maybe made a mistake in the past and have a hard time owning up to that right now. Fact remained that Virgil’s job was to keep everyone safe. That meant making them not want to decapitate the king over an anxiety attack he hadn’t triggered on purpose. Still… What had triggered the attack?

#Rondoel #king au #sanders sides #Virgil Sanders #king creativity #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Janus Sanders

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thereaderstea · 4 years ago

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G´day tor-mon, how are you<3? Recommend me your favourite bts!jungkook x reader fics! so I guess its not an au?(no smut✋🚫)

Merry meet, nonnie! I am well, busy and a little stressed because I had a power outage yesterday, but well nonetheless ☺️ I hope you are merry in the holidays (if you celebrate) and are happy and healthy 😄🖤💜

asdfghjkl, my favorite JJK x Reader fics? I have to choose? 😰 *has an existential crisis*

Alright, after some deep reflection, an existential crisis, and fighting the urge to devour these fics again (you have a mission, tor-mon!), I present to you my current favorite JJK fics (this list is only bound to grow). These fics have made me feel so intensely and I think about these fics a lot (an unhealthy amount, probably). I sorted them by genre: fluff to angst to yandere.

tor-mon’s Favorite JJK x Reader Fics

Sugar and Coffee by @jimlingss ➵Fluff, Angst, Slice of Life | slice of life au | pâtisserie school au | enemies to friends to lovers au | Slice of Life series | 23 ch series | 100.5k ➵You are quite the pâtisserie chef, or at least on your way to becoming one, but there’s that one person who always has to complain, Jeon Jungkook. ➵A masterpiece, honestly. I remember cracking up so hard over their competitions, the banter, and dynamics, but nothing beats that one day after the dream... I don’t want to spoil! but I do want to warn that there is a wet dream (not too graphic and it’s not a lot, I promise) somewhere in there, but honestly, it’s so hilarious.

Date in a Box by Jimlingss ➵Fluff | Service Series | oneshot | 9.7k (Jimlingss’s summary: ) ➵If you’re in a hurry then we’re here to help you! Everything you need in a box. Delivery less than five minutes. Upgrade and we can personalize your date even more! Guaranteed 100%! Don’t fret, we’re here. ➵I love the entire Service Series because the concepts are so much fun and they’re hilarious and I love the service descriptions, aka the commercials XD

I Will Not Lose! by Jimlingss ➵Fluff | magic au | oneshot | 6.2k (Jimlingss’s summary: ) ➵A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. ➵It’s fluffy and cute, and it’s got that hint of enemies to lovers, especially with how competitive the mc gets over this bet. And the ending! asdfghjkl ^.^

midas by @gukyi ➵Fluff, (light) Angst, Comedy | enemies to lovers au | ceo au| magical realism au | oneshot | 32k (gukyi’s summary: ) ➵jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want. (or,) ➵you become Jungkook’s magical babysitter ➵I really love this concept! This fic is what got me looking into magical realism as an entire genre. But also, who doesn’t love a good enemies to lovers? and from the master of enemies to lovers 🙌🏻

ice prince by gukyi | The Reader’s Tea Review ➵Fluff, (very light) Angst | figure skating au | enemies to lovers au | oneshot | 22k ➵Your ice skating partner just had to break his leg right before a big competition and “of all people on this godforsaken Earth, you’ve been re-paired up with Jeon Jungkook, Ice Prince.” ➵an axel-lent enemies to lovers :D I love it so much! And I really love Tae and mc’s friendship and all those icebreaker questions ☺️

if i told you by gukyi ➵Fluff, (light) Angst, Comedy | friends to lovers au | college au | oneshot | 22k ➵Jeon Jungkook is a broke college student, so to pay off his debt, he sells himself as the perfect boyfriend. If only you weren’t a broke college student either, then maybe you could buy yourself a date with Jungkook. ➵The mc is so not what I expected, (no spoilers!) all I will say is that I really love how supportive she is. I also love how close they are and this Jungkook is too fluffy and cute! ^.^

a moonlight melody by gukyi | The Reader’s Tea Reviews 1 | 2 ➵Fluff, Soft Angst | fake dating au | orchestra au | vacation au | duology | 50k ➵Your best friend has pranked you too many times and you’ve done nothing about it, because you, quite frankly, suck at pranking. As such, Jungkook ➵This is so soft and magical and sweet and soft ☺️ and did I mention soft? but also all those memes! There is so much good and wholesome and hilarious dynamics in here! This is the kind of fic that makes me wish I had a big friend group to do crazy stuff like this (but I hear you have to leave your house and, like, socialize??)

Down With The Ship by @tatastaetae | The Reader’s Tea Reviews 1 | 2 | 3 ➵Fluff, Angst | pirate au | trilogy | 25.4k ➵ You board a ship to escape forced love; but you join a pirate crew to fall into the arms of your only true and constant love: the sea. (or, tatastaetae’s summary: ) ➵Captain Jeon Jungkook; a beautiful mess of blood and gold. His greatest treasure, may also be his greatest downfall. ➵Very very fluffy! I love the adventure and the antics and I still want to know what’s in that soup, Jin! But that ending, holy heck, I didn’t see it coming and I just malfunctioned and stared at my wall in shock for who knows how long, and I just love tatastaetae’s fluffy writing which always somehow wrecks my soul! ^.^

His Name by @jimlingss ➵Angst | multiple personality au | 8 part series | 52.4k ➵Jeon Jungkook has multiple personalities and gaps in his memory. It’s your job to treat him and perhaps help him remember his past... ➵This is the first bts fic I ever read (a special thanks to Nani for reccing it ☺️) and so it holds a special place in my black heart, especially because I sobbed so hard at 3 in the morning and my mind was stuck on this for days

Gravity by @donewithjeon | The Reader’s Tea Review ➵Angst, Fluff | ‘90s au | oneshot | 29k ➵Time can bring you together, but Time can also push you apart; will you and Jungkook be able to fight the distance and Time to stay together, or were you always meant to only share this descent to earth for just a moment, always meant to eventually drift apart? ➵I am a wimp when it comes to Time, but does that stop me from reading fics that exploit that weakness? nope! That last train scene destroyed my heart and that entire ending, the acceptance, stabbed me in the heart, for good measure.

written on the sky by @inktae | The Reader’s Tea Review ➵Angst, Fluff | apocalyptic au? | end of the world au | ‘seeking a friend at the end of the world’ au | oneshot | 22k ➵The 60-mile-wide asteroid was supposed to slip by Earth, but it’s a little late to change its course or do anything about it except to prepare for the end. So while you’re waiting for the end, find a friend, someone to hold a hand with at the end of the world. ➵I was sobbing before the fic even finished. The odd thing is that you know the end, but knowing doesn’t prepare you for the feels.

below thunder showers by inktae | The Reader’s Tea Review ➵ Angst, lil bits of Fluff | sci-fi au | oneshot | 30k ➵ Yoongi leads Earth, while you lead a withered space station. You go to Earth to settle the tensions that have been brewing between Earth and the space station, and Jeon Jungkook, a broken soldier who holds a deep love for the rain, is there to deliver you. ➵we stan a fellow pluviophile ✊🏻 I am so conflicted over this Min Yoongi >.< but Jungkook is so soft and he really didn’t deserve to live this way :(

first light by inktae | The Reader’s Tea Review ➵Angst, Fluff | hotarubi no mori e au | 24.8k (inktae’s synopsis: ) ➵“Have you ever felt like the world is too loud sometimes?” “No. For me it’s always quiet.” ➵This fic wrecked me and made me so conflicted >.< I can never forget this fluffy, masked boy who lives in the woods and silence...

the swirling way of stars by inktae | The Reader’s Tea Review ➵Angst, Fluff | fantasy au | oneshot | 19k ➵You’re tasked with showing Jeon Jungkook what it’s like to live a completely normal life. ➵It’s just falling in love with life itself, the simple things, and it’s written so magically...how can you not fall in love?

the train of lost souls by inktae | The Reader’s Tea Review ➵Angst, lil bits of Fluff | fantasy au | oneshot | 13.6k ➵You have two options when you step on the train: you can live but forget your life, and everyone in your life will forget you, or you can move on and keep your memories for the rest of time. But, how can you choose when part of your soul rests on this train, and the other part longs for someone just out of reach... ➵Once again, I’m a wimp with Time, and the choices really get me thinking...

Pen Pal by @chinkbihh ➵Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Final 1/2 | Final 2/2 ➵Angst, Horror? | yandere au | murder and crime au | pen pal au | trilogy | 127.3k ➵Warnings: mental disorders (agoraphobia?), yandere, murder (stabbing) ➵You sign up to receive a pen pal and are paired up with an inmate, jungkook. You just wanted to talk to someone who could understand what it’s like to be removed from society, but you just may be getting more than you asked for... ➵I love a good yandere fic, there’s something about a yandere’s demented psychology that calls to me, and it’s always so interesting to see how one yandere differs from another, especially in different scenarios. But please please please read and be mindful of the warnings in case it just doesn’t vibe with you.

Quarter Quell by chinkbihh ➵Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | +more ➵Angst, Horror? | yandere au | hunger games au | ongoing ➵You have resigned to your fate as a tribute in the next hunger games when someone from District Two takes an interest in you...a bit too much of an interest, you’d say. ➵I am a little hesitant to rec this because it isn’t finished, but the premise is exciting and I am really amped for the next chapter in this fic, heck yeah! I mean, heck, a yandere hunger games au? let’s go! But please please please read the warnings in case it just doesn’t vibe with you

~*~

Bonus rec!

I haven’t read this fic, but my friend, Nani, rec’d it to me the other day, and it sounds so exciting :D so I’ll let her tell you about it:

Fan Identity by @tteokggukk ➵Fluff, Crack, Angst | enemies to lovers au | social media au | 37 ch series ➵Influencer!JK is whipped for influencer!reader. Both don’t know they’re interacting with each other on their secret fan accounts. You’re rooting for the two long before they properly meet. But the best part? You’re rooting for their pseudos, Blair Witch and Seagull, as well. ➵I laugh, I pause, I gasp. The conflict between the two mc’s hurt. Honestly, it made the story worth the read.

~*~

Can I also...🥺...may I suggest:

10 Series by @deepdarkdelights | The Reader’s Tea Reviews 1 | 2 | 3 | The Reader’s Tea Analysis ➵10 Seconds | 10 Days | 10 Years ➵Horror? | yandere au | Bouquet Series | 10 Series | trilogy | 29.2k ➵You’re just a college student returning home from a late night out trying to finish up your ungodly college work...but “All it took was ten seconds” and well, now, you’re his. ➵How can I not include my favorite yandere writer, the master of yandere, herself? 🥺 I’m only hesitant because you requested no smut and I respect that, but if you are alright with a small smut scene (I promise there’s not too much) or even just skimming/skipping over it, I would highly recommend this series 🙌🏻 The smut scene is in the final installment (10 Years). It’s an all-time favorite from an all-time favorite writer. But please please please read the warnings in case it just doesn’t vibe with you.

~*~

Happy reading, carissima! I hope at least one of these fics will become your favorite, too ☺️ Let me know what you think as well after you’ve given the authors some love ☺️

Well met!

your fellow reading monster,

tor-mon 🖤

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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How will nmy react to a memory loss jgy how think himself a nie scet member ?

There were murmurs around him when he first started waking up.

“– last few times – appears he thinks that –”

“– need to avoid any disturbances –”

“ - perhaps pretend -”

“Absolutely not.”

That last one was Sect Leader Nie.

His voice was loud and piercing as always, a general accustomed to needing to make himself heard over the din of battle and never quite having adjusted to situations where it wasn’t needed, and Meng Yao found himself relaxing a little bit just at the sheer familiarity of it. Nie Mingjue was as reliable as the sunrise: once you were one of his people, he’d defend you to the death.

If he was here, Meng Yao was safe.

He went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, the room was empty but for Sect Leader Nie, who was sitting at the desk doing paperwork. Probably paperwork that Meng Yao should be doing, but for the injury that must have led to all of this – he didn’t remember it at all, but short-term amnesia was a common side effect of certain injuries, and his head was wrapped in bandages.

Still, he struggled to sit up. “Sect Leader Nie,” he called, and Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders tensed. “If you want my help –”

“You should be resting,” Sect Leader Nie said. He was staring at the wall in front of him instead of turning back to look at Meng Yao – a sign of guilt? Had he been involved in what happened? “Do not trouble yourself.”

“And let you mess up my filing system?” Meng Yao teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood. “Don’t forget how long it took me to fix the accounts the way I like it –”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Meng Yao paused, then, abruptly concerned: Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders were curved inwards, as if expecting a blow – afraid of pain. Afraid of him?

Impossible.

And yet, at the same time – unmistakable.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” he asked, keeping his voice level. He always kept his voice level, no matter the circumstances; someone certainly had to, and it wasn’t going to be anyone surnamed Nie. “Are you expelling me from your service?”

It was a joke, of course. Nie Mingjue liked him, respected him, valued him – had made it clear a thousand ways that he would never listen to gossip or to slander, would never judge him by who his mother was, and Meng Yao couldn’t imagine what sort of dire mistake would be necessary to make Nie Mingjue refuse to stand by him, even against the world.

“You’re the one who will leave,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice cutting, but then the anger flowed out of his shoulders and he sighed, closing his eyes, as if he had mistakenly become angry over the wrong thing. “It is not that I didn’t know that your ambitions had always been with Lanling, not Qinghe.”

Bile and panic rose up Meng Yao’s throat, but what could he say?

It was true. He had come to Qinghe because he had heard that they respected talent there, regardless of birth; he had come because he had needed a place to rise to prominence, where he could become so respectable that even his father would be unable to ignore him.

Qinghe had always been a waystation, not a destination.

Or, if one wanted to look at it with less kindness – he had treated it as a stepping-stone.

Had Nie Mingjue discovered how Meng Yao had schemed to get his attention, his sympathy? The little tricks he’d played to get him to agree to take a chance on an unknown, all the ways he’d wormed his way into the man’s life so that it would be impossible to extract him without damage? Or was it something more recent, something hidden away in his lost memories – had his father asked him to betray some confidence of Nie Mingjue’s? Turn over some information, take some secret action…had he done it?

Was that why Nie Mingjue didn’t want to look at him?

“Sect Leader Nie…”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you about it,” Nie Mingjue said bluntly. “The doctors told me to play along, pretend not to…I told them trying to hide it from you was pointless, that you were too smart, that you’d figure it out – I assume you have by now?”

“I’ve lost my memory,” Meng Yao said. He was shivering, and it wasn’t cold. “I woke up and the doctors realized that I’d forgotten a great deal, so they wanted you not to cause me any disturbance…how much time have I lost?”

“The war is over,” Nie Mingjue said, and surely that should be cause for celebration? But Nie Mingjue’s voice was flat and neutral, as if some terrible thing had happened, and his fists were clenched in rage. “You have been recognized by the Jin sect, and now live in Lanling. I cannot speak to the quality of your life, or to your happiness, but you have at least achieved that much.”

It was not that Meng Yao thought he’d be happy in Lanling – it was that he hadn’t thought he’d be happy anywhere, and found to his surprise that Qinghe actually did make him happy. It wasn’t supposed to, nothing was supposed to; it was all supposed to be part of the plan, that was all, a means to an end.

He wasn’t supposed to become fond of Sect Leader Nie, who tried so hard and listened so earnestly; he wasn’t supposed to be friends with Nie Huaisang, a charming waste of space who ought to have been born as a roly-poly kitten instead.

He was supposed to be in Lanling, by his father’s side, and now it appeared he was – and yet the injury he suffered had driven his memories back to his time at Qinghe.

That said something, he thought.

He’d had head injuries before, memory issues, dating back to his childhood; his mother had hired a doctor for him over it, a real one and not some faker, and he’d explained that when injured, Meng Yao’s extraordinary mind would retreat to the place it felt safest, recreating the past out of all those perfectly preserved memories and sinking into it as if it were real. If this injury followed the pattern of the others, there was no need for any treatment beyond time – soon enough, he would start to remember, and reality would gradually reassert itself over fantasy.

In the past, no matter what, his memory would always return to those few months when he was eight years old, when his mother had met a possessive benefactor and they had lived free and easy under his care – it had ended horribly, of course, but at the time he didn’t know that.

This time, his memory had returned to his days in Qinghe.

And Nie Mingjue still wouldn’t look at him.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“You assume that you’ve done something?”

“You don’t want to look at me,” Meng Yao said. A moment of silence, with Nie Mingjue not giving in, stiff and quiet, so he added, quietly, “I warned you in the beginning that I was unworthy of the trust you placed in me.”

In the end, Nie Mingjue turned to look at him. He seemed tired, and his eyes were bloodshot in a way that did not speak well of his health.

“Tell me what I did,” Meng Yao said. “I want to know.”

Nie Mingjue exhaled. “You killed a captain,” he said dully. “Premeditated murder, and you excused it by saying that he had stolen your glory and bullied you; even if it was true, you never once said a word of it to me before, never sought some other means to resolve it. You then defected to the Wen sect, becoming a master torturer and Wen Ruohan’s right hand; you killed my men, tortured me, and then killed him to become a war hero. After that, you were accepted into the Jin sect, and Lan Xichen and I swore brotherhood with you.”

He paused, then, but that was not the end, or else he would not be so angry.

Meng Yao waited, his mind dancing over all the excuses, all the things he could say, belated justifications, things that would cast him in a good light, a better light – what Nie Mingjue had described was obviously a problem, but not an insoluble one, and his future self should have known that. He could still fix this.

But to fix it, he needed to know the full extent of his crimes first.

“My qi became disordered after the war,” Nie Mingjue finally said, continuing. “Lan Xichen proposed a treatment: a Lan melody known as the Song of Clarity. But he is busy, so you took on the responsibility of playing for me…”

No, Meng Yao thought. No.

But at once he knew where the story led, even before the telling of it was done. A story that started with premeditated murder, however his future self had justified it to himself, could only end with the same –

Why would he do something like that? Perhaps because Nie Mingjue turned away from him after the first murder, as he ought to have known he would – Nie Mingjue tried so hard, and thought everyone else did, too; the glimpse at what Meng Yao was really like, the creature of spite and bitterness and hatred, willing to kill the filthy way, hidden in the dark…it would have come as a shock to him.

And yet his former self had obviously salvaged it, somehow; Nie Mingjue had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, to make up with him, to treat him as an equal, and still he –

Surely no prize could be worth this.

“Do you know why I did it?” he asked quietly, staring down at his own clenched fists, hating iron for not being steel. His damaged mind was telling him that what he had had in Qinghe was dearer to him than his own mother, and he had nearly destroyed it with his own two hands.

“The Nie sect and the Jin sect are at a crossroads,” Nie Mingjue said, and at last, at last Meng Yao recognized the flatness of his tone and the lack of visible signs of fury as the signs of medicine, the sluggish pain relief that could help stymie an incipient qi deviation. The poisonous song he played must have come very near to working. “Jin Guangshan wants the title of Chief Cultivator; I think there should be none. Jin Guangshan protects Xue Yang even after he murdered an entire clan; I think he deserves to die – I asked you for his head, and you promised it to me…you never intended to deliver. There can be only one sect ascendant, and you are, as much as he hates it, your father’s heir.”

His heir. Had he done something to Jin Zixuan, then? Unsatisfied with only the name he had promised himself he would obtain, had he coveted the power, too, and sought to achieve it by any means possible?

If he had reached the point of being willing to murder Nie Mingjue, then surely he had done that, too.

“I bashed your head in,” Nie Mingjue said conversationally. “During the deviation that you provoked. Lan Xichen stopped me from actually killing you, and from dying myself, and then you awoke without any memory of what you’d done, calling yourself Meng Yao again as if you were still – as if you still –”

Someone had asked Nie Mingjue to come in here and pretend, Meng Yao realized, and with a start realized also that he was furious about it. Someone had told him to come in here and play pretend with his would-be murderer as if they were still friends.

It might even have been Lan Xichen who’d done it.

There were tears on Nie Mingjue’s cheeks. He did not wipe them away the way Nie Huaisang would have, trying to hide his pain; he only let them fall, his eyes sliding shut once more – he could not look at Meng Yao, and Meng Yao couldn’t blame him.

“I wish I could go back,” he said, and Nie Mingjue opened his eyes to look at him. “Before I made those decisions. I wish I was still Meng Yao, and could do things differently. Is it too late for that?”

With anyone else, he would know the answer already. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have asked.

With anyone else, his mind would still be back in those wonderful days of being eight and alone with his mother for the very first time and last time.

“How can I ever trust you again?” Nie Mingjue asked, shaking his head in denial. “You drove me into a qi deviation – you wanted to kill me, knowing it would leave Huaisang the position of sect leader, knowing how cruel a death it was –”

“Is it too late?”

This was not something that could be repaired easily, with words and a gentle smile. This would take action and sacrifice. But before he committed himself, he had to know if it were even possible.

If Nie Mingjue could still forgive him, even now –

If he was still one of Nie Mingjue’s people, to be defended until death.

Nie Mingjue abruptly stood up, unsteady on his feet, clearly still ill – if I am half the murderer that I appear to be in his stories, I will kill those doctors who prioritized my health, this farce, over his, and if Lan Xichen was involved I will make it clear to him what wrong he has done – and shook his head, but this time it was not a denial.

“I never know what to do with you,” he said, and it was not a no.

It was not a no.

Jin Guangyao smiled.

(At the trial, which happened eventually, Nie Mingjue spoke in his favor, and his would-be murderer was remanded into the custody of Qinghe for whatever punishment they saw fit. It didn’t last long, but it was an excellent alibi for his father’s untimely death, even though it did not solve all the questions that lingered in Nie Mingjue’s eyes. But that, too, was not an insoluble problem.)

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

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ikeromantic · 4 years ago

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An Uncertain Alliance

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic- this scene occurs at the start of Ch. 11 (romantic route- picking one was hard!). Approx 3000 words of fluff and stuff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Fox Hunt

Mitsuhide took a few more days in Kyoto to wrap up his business. He could have managed most with letters, but he wanted to be here for any reply from Mouri. The madman’s participation wasn’t a requirement to move forward, but his access to men and weapons would make life so much simpler. And it was an excuse to pamper his little mouse.

Not that he let her know that was his objective. To her it was just happenstance that their trip to visit an informant passed by a beautiful garden or a talented street performer. Or that the tea shop they stopped in surprisingly carried her favorite snacks. Her joy was Mitsuhide’s pleasure. He stored every memory of her delighted smiles and happy sighs. The look in her eyes when something took her breath away.

And so he was almost disappointed the day the letter came, informing him Mouri would meet him at an upcoming festival in Kyoto. Mitsuhide didn’t want to discuss Mouri with his little one. Besides, he wasn’t sure what he could say that would do justice to the man and his reputation. So all he told her was that they’d be going to the festival together.

It was a good location for a contact. Any city guards would be busy keeping order and no one there would likely know either of them on sight. Plus, the crowds would make it hard to get away with any violent double-cross. Still, it made him uneasy.

Meeting Mouri in a place he chose meant trusting there was no trap. And trusting Mouri was like expecting a rabid dog not to bite. Or, not to bite you anyway.

“Are you worried about our mission,” she asked him as they walked through the crowded festival avenues.

Mitsuhide glanced down at her and smiled. “No - not about our mission.” His little mouse looked as if she might squeak up again, so he added, “Let’s not think about it and just enjoy the festival together, hm?”

She frowned. “How can I not think about it? I mean, the sho-ah, shark-eyes, is planning our destruction as we speak!”

“As we are planning his.” He stopped and faced her. “Right now, I am more interested in plotting a pleasant evening with you.” The half-truth stung, but he needed her to relax. To smile. To be his light. Because he knew he would do terrible, dark things still and without that balance, he would lose this sliver of peace they’d made together.

His little one blinked, surprised by the intensity of his response. “Oh. Well, that does sound nice . . .”

“Look,” Mitsuhide pointed toward a nearby food stall. “Candy sculptures.” The distraction worked as intended. Her gaze lit on the delicate confections, twisted around sticks into all kinds of shapes.

She clapped her hands together in excitement. “They are so pretty! Can we get one?”

“We can get as many as you like,” he chuckled, letting her lead him to the stall. While she was ogling the display, he asked for two crane candies. Cranes were life-mates. Bonded from the moment they touched. He wasn’t sure she would understand the symbolism, but that was alright.

Then they walked on, hand in hand, enjoying the sugary treat.

“I’m glad you decided to bring me here,” she said after a moment.

“Well, it was you that reminded me humans - and kitsune - cannot go on without rest.” Mitsuhide watched her from the corner of his eye. She was finally smiling. Her small, pink tongue darted out to taste the candied crane. It made him want to kiss her. To taste the sugar on her lips, which would be far sweeter than the confection in his hand. He quite suddenly wished they were back in their room at the inn.

“Good.” She grinned over at him and bumped her hip against his leg. “So, why cranes? There were horses and dragons. Those colorful fish ones.”

A slight blush stained his cheeks as he realized she might have caught on to his choice. He cleared his throat. “Did you know that cranes mate for life?” He used the candy to ‘kiss’ her cheek.

Her eyes went wide and her smile was soft and full of affection. She raised her candy up to give him a kiss on the lips.

Mitsuhide took advantage of the moment to ‘kiss’ the crane back, which brought a rosy color to her cheeks too. The moment ended all too soon though. He saw the man they were here to meet approaching. Tall, and limned in red-lantern light that stained him blood-red. Motonari Mouri.

“Look,” he gestured toward the figure. “That is one of our potential allies. What lucky -”

“So this is the real reason we came to the festival. I knew it had to be more than a fun night out!” She looked up at him, eyes dancing. “You can’t fool me, kitsune.”

Mitsuhide smiled fondly. “I suppose not. But a nice evening with you is also part of the plan. This is just the part I didn’t mention earlier.”

Her gaze went back to Mouri. “Who is he? What does he do?”

“Hmm. I suppose you could call him an artisan of violence. A creatively murderous fighter. I almost shudder to think of the horrors awaiting anyone that crosses him.” Mitsuhide’s tone was playful, but he was deadly serious about Mouri. He wanted her to understand this was not a kind soul they were allying with, but a killer.

His little one nodded once, squaring her shoulders. She might have asked more, but Mouri was too close now for further conversation.

“I gotta say, Kyoto knows how to have a festival.” Motonari greeted them with his usual swagger. “Nice as it is, this place is gonna be yer funeral if I don’t like what ya got to say. Savvy?” He took in Mitsuhide with a wary glance and then looked to the chatelaine. Where his eyes lingered longer than necessary.

Mitsuhide felt his jaw twitch and did his best to restrain the reaction.

His little one took a step back, her face going pale. This only encouraged Mouri.

“Who’s yer little friend here, eh?” Motonari took a step closer to her, raising a hand as if he was going to touch her.

Mitsuhide stepped between them smoothly. “This is my fiancee.”

Motonari grinned wider. “You brought your little lady to parley. With me.” He laughed, a sound edged with madness. “I like a man that doesn’t respect the rules.”

The chatelaine poked her head around to look at Mouri.

“My love, this is Motonari Mouri. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Which he was because he’d given her that lesson himself.

“Of course.” She came out to stand beside him, putting her brave face on. “You conquered the whole south but . . . I thought you died?”

Mouri laughed again. “I gotta say, the best part o’ that introduction is the bit where yer eyes went wide with horror.”

Mitsuhide did not appreciate the way Mouri’s gaze swept up and down his little mouse, or the rise of his brows as he tried - in his crude way - to flirt. “Yes, she is a delight isn’t she? Touch her and you’ll leave this meeting with one less hand.” A crude threat for a crude man . . . or so he rationalized.

“That so? Guess it depends on how many parts you plan ta leave behind.” Motonari threw back his head, laughing so hard he shook.

The chatelaine interrupted with a polite cough. “If - if I may ask - how did you two meet?”

“Until recently, we were both in the service of Shogun Ashikaga Yoshiaki,” Mitsuhide replied. He didn’t want to give Mouri the opportunity to characterize their relationship, such as it was.

Motonari got control of himself in time to nod, adding. “I slipped out before Mitsuhide here. But I promised him a good bloodbath before I left.” He wiped a fleck of spittle from his lip. “So, out with it. Why’d you invite me to meet?”

Mitsuhide watched Mouri slide his gloved hands into his jacket. He took out a pistol and spun it lazily, waiting for an answer. “Motonari, there’s no need to play coy. You know why I contacted you. You watched my little drama play out at Honnoji, from start to unsatisfying finish.” He pointedly did not look directly at the gun and kept his expression one of thin-lipped indifference.

“Mind-reader. No wonder people get so twitchy around you.” Mouri shrugged one shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “You want help killing the shogun.”

“Very much so.”

Mouri pointed the pistol at Mitsuhide. “Does it get drafty in that big empty space o’ yer head? I didn’t come here tonight to get disappointed!”

The chatelaine bit her lip and looked for a moment as if she might run. Mitsuhide could feel the way her body tensed, but she held still.

All he did was raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What part of this disappoints?”

Motonari scoffed. “How ‘bout the whole damn thing? Tell ya what - I got one goal. Just one. And that’s ta get you and Kenshin. Shingen. Nobunaga. Hell, anyone worth a damn, into one big, bloody melee.” His lips twitched into a half smile. “If everyone’s not trying to kill each other, then it’s not much of a party!”

He gestured at Mitsuhide with his gun. “Ya think I’m gonna waste my time with some small fry like the shogun? I should shoot you right here, right now, in place o’ asking fer an apology. In fact.” He stroked the unlit fuse.. “I think I will.” Mouri pressed the barrel against Mitsuhide’s head, digging the iron into his skin.

Mitsuhide knew his little one was contemplating some mad attempt to ‘rescue’ him and rather than reply to Motonari, he first looked at her. Waiting to see a slight nod that meant she understood she was to stay still. He had this handled. In fact, it was going better than he’d expected. Mouri was playing right into his hands.

“I see. You plan to leave the shogun free to roam, ensuring that your long dreamed of bloodbath remains only a fantasy.” Mitsuhide sighed. “I expected better from you.”

Mouri raised an eyebrow. His pistol didn’t so much as twitch.

“Surely you see it.” Mitsuhide waited a beat, then continued. “The shogun will never engage with Nobunaga - or any of his enemies - in open combat. If he did, he might lose. Instead he will seek to assassinate them, one at a time. Subtly. An accident here, a mysterious illness there. Until there are none left to take the field. No celebration. No battle. Only quiet, pathetic deaths. One enemy after another. Who knows, perhaps he would even target you.”

“I’m not afraid of him.” Motonari’s defiant reply was somewhat spoiled by the nervous way he licked his lips.

Mitsuhide smiled. “Of course not. But your bloodbath will be severely lacking when there is no one there to bleed. A good party requires . . . guests - does it not?”

Mouri chuckled. “Ya got a silver tongue. But it’ll be so much viscera on the paving stones when I pull this trigger.”

“Mhmm. I imagine parts of me would travel quite far. Perhaps spattering the food stall there, or some of those festival-goers.”

“They told me you were tricky, kitsune. But no one mentioned you were mad.” Motonari closed the distance between them until he was close enough to kiss.

Mitsuhide stared into the depths of his red glare, imitating the madman’s own body language. Gold on scarlet glinted in the light of the festival lanterns in this space of tense silence.

Then Motonari started laughing. His breath smelled of sake and tobacco. “Alright. Ya got me. I’m in, just this once.” And he lowered his pistol.

Mitsuhide watched as the madman carefully wiped down the barrel and placed it back in the holster. His hand found the chatelaine’s icy fingers. He gripped her hand tightly. She was alright and so was he. The gambit had paid off.

“The only place I’ll let Nobunaga and the rest die is in a sea of blood and gunpowder. By my hand.” Motonari sounded certain as he said this. As sure as he would be telling them the sun would rise in the east.

“Then I believe we have a deal.” Mitsuhide knew the bargain would only last so long as Mouri saw the necessity of it. And stayed entertained. Hopefully they could locate the shogun quickly and be done with this.

Motonari gave a snort that might be agreement, then gestured to the candy Mitsuhide still held. “Say, why don’t ya treat yer new ally to some o’ that fancy candy, huh?”

“You . . . want candy?” Mitsuhide couldn’t help the ways his eyebrows rose.

“Yeah. So run along and get some fer me. The lady an’ I will wait fer ya right here.” Mouri took a step toward the chatelaine.

Mitsuhide didn’t need to be psychic to know what ran through his little mouse’s head. It was written in her face in large, panicked script. ‘Don’t leave me alone with this maniac!’ The kitsune thought fast. “I am sure I could deliver a better token of friendship to you at a later da-”

“I ain’t asking fer a better token o’ whatever.” His voice rasped and his hand moved toward the holster of his gun again.

That was the problem with unstable allies. They couldn’t be relied on. Even the simplest things could set them off. Any situation could become a violent one at the drop of a pin. But what bothered Mitsuhide the most was this. There was only one reason for this particular request. Mouri wanted to be alone with the chatelaine. Why?

“Yer girl will still be here when ya get back.” Motonari smiled like a shark. A hungry one.

“Go ahead, Mitsu. Get him some candy. I’ll be fine.” She gave Mitsuhide an uneasy smile.

“I’ll be right back.” It made him feel ill to say it but Mitshide knew it would be better to go along with the madman than to fight him on such a small request. And besides, if he tried anything, the chatelaine would scream. Then, Mouri would lose more than his life. So it was reasonably safe to leave them for a few minutes.

Mitsuhide glanced back at them as he hurried away. Mouri was sitting beside the chatelaine now, almost close enough for his hip to touch hers. Bile surged in his belly. No one should be so close to his little mouse. No one but him. Just hurry up, he told himself. Hurry and get back.

He found a closer stall with the same kinds of candy and picked out a fish for Motonari. Then hurried back. His little one was smiling at the madman and Mouri looked . . . confused. Jealousy burned through his veins in a wave, and he almost ran the last few steps, shoving the stick of candy between the two of them. “There. Your candy. Now get away from her.”

The last sentence was almost a growl, and Mitsuhide couldn’t help the way he reached for his little one. Pulled her close. She was his, her smile and her laugh. Her kind eyes. Mouri deserved to be close to none of it.

Even as the jealousy burned through him, a colder, more logical part of Mitsuhide scolded him for his rash behavior. This was not like him at all. This display. What did it hurt, even if Motonari was flirting with the chatelaine? Nothing, really. Except . . . except Mitsuhide didn’t want her to be anywhere near that madman. She could get hurt. Not just physically - but her heart and her sweet spirit. He had to protect her.

Motonari seemed unaffected as he took the stick of candy and popped it in his mouth. “There’s somethin’ wrong with yer lady friend. She’s crazier’n I am,” he said around the stick.

“There is nothing wrong with her. She is perfect.” The words were out before he’d even had time to consider his response. This was . . . odd. He never spoke without thinking. Never.

“That so? Cause from here it looks like her madness is contagious. Gettin’ worse from person to person.” He chomped down on the candy, crushing the spun sugar figure between his teeth.

Mitshide’s first instinct was to slap the sweet out of his mouth and break his teeth with a well-placed elbow. But he held himself still, rigid. His heart was beating fast and he felt hot - shaky. Acting now would be . . . ill-advised.

Motonari shook his head and stood up. He addressed the chatelaine. “Better hope yer man doesn’t get tripped up by his love-addled brain. If he does,” he took the candy out of his mouth and pointed toward her with the jagged, chewed end. “I’ll fall on you.”

This threat was more than Mitsuhide could stand still for. He pushed his little one behind him and grabbed the hilt of his sword. “You will stay away from her! If you take a step closer to her - now or ever - I will remove your head from your neck.” The words were a barely audible snarl.

If Mouri was worried about this, it didn’t show. He only smiled his shark-like grin. “Where’d your disguise go, kitsune? Your real face is showing now. Barking like a fox in a trap.”

Mitsuhide tried to get control of his breath. To push the murderous rage in his chest back down. To slide his mask back into place.

From behind him, his little one hugged his back. “There’s nothing to worry about. My Mitsuhide won’t trip up.”

Motonari shrugged. “We’ll see.” Then he was walking away, swagger firmly in place.

Mitsuhide watched him go, and when he was out of sight, finally let go of his sword hilt. He was shaking. He turned to wrap his arms around his little one. Feeling her warm body pressed tight, the steady rhythm of heartbeat and breath, calmed him. She was here and safe and his.

“Are you alright,” she asked, her voice muffled against him.

“Yes. I . . . I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. This was only the first of several dangerous meetings they would need to undergo in this quest to see the shogun taken down. There would be more meetings with Mouri and others. He had to find a way to control this - this response of his. Otherwise Motonari was right.

Next: Future-Speak

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #Mitsuhide Akechi #ikesen motonari #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic

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closer-stars · 3 years ago

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Heart of Depth (1)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff Word Count: 8.8k (nice) Requested: I g u ess so,,, Content: Yeosang’s rich but he’s tired but wait there’s More. Genshin Impact AU/Inspired-- I say inspired bec this is more modern than where Genshin is currently set. Food mention. Allusions to death. (there will be fighting in future parts) Note: Hi so... uh,,, this is actually a Months old request that happened at the height of some personal,,, things,,,, so I may have forgotten One aspect of the request and got carried away. i am so Sorry. There’s gonna be fluff eventually. If you would like to be tagged for this, please do tell me~ Thank you also to my beta readers! Also Yes i changed the title to something else, I think this just Fits better. Network: @ateezlovenet Tag List: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult

How long has it been since he has mingled with humans? He’s not sure. He’s not quite sure either of how old he is. Sapphire eyes gaze at the scenery from where he stands. Over north, he remembers a battle that has left thousands scarred in years to come, honored and remembered rightfully in generations to come. To the east, he remembers the betrayal of his dear friend for power, how difficult it was to wash away the blood from his hands. It was more difficult to wash away the nightmares. In the west, he can still picture a palace being built, only to be ruined once more by opposing forces who saw potential in his land, how he raised so much chaos to bring order back. Southwards, he remembers his lover, their lively eyes dimming with a promise of seeing them soon. It’s been too long since that promise and not once has he seen them. The memory causes him to fiddle with the pendant hidden beneath his shirt. He tries not to play that memory in his head once more as it would only causehim more pain than necessary.

He’s seen the world decay and grow. He sees the mountain of which he created eons back to tame a beast that once ravaged the lands. Fortunately, the beast is no more, the area has become a place for people to relax and unwind from the stressors of present day life. He wonders how humans have come this far, little by little gaining independence from a god that led them to safety. The need for a god is ending soon as it is only a matter of time before he passes on the powers to someone else. All his friends have retreated away from their responsibilities, handing the job to those who can continue it for them. He’s the only one from the original seven that is left.

He wonders: do these people still need a god?

This was a question better left for another day, for today is a full day of routined duties.

He returns to his living space, spacious but empty. What else can an immortal put into their home without giving away their age? Even if humans can barely understand the concept of immortality, priceless antiques can make him a target of many, so he tries to live simply. He of all people should know that.

Alas, the key word here is: tries.

The furniture around his abode are not of cheap quality, but one of longevity, not that his wallet hurts at the price. His clothes are not from everyday brands either, while he does not look down those whose options are limited by currency, his preferences for clothes can make one mistake him to be a regular of luxury brand releases. His palate though was another thing entirely. He misses the food of the past, while there are some areas that have kept the practice to produce the meals he misses alive, the process to acquire them is tedious.

What he wants, he can get with ease. All except someone. The empty feeling in his living space has not changed since his lover’s passing. Since then, he’s never taken an interest in anyone else, holding onto their promise of seeing each other soon. Whenever that will be. He’s gotten used to living on his own but he does not like it. Watching humans below him move at such a pace exhausts him, they live longer than the humans he remembers, but still move as if their lives are shorter.

Ironic really.

The sky is a beautiful purple once he’s near his home and rather than cooking something, he opts for take-out. Somewhere along the way of his existence, he eventually has settled for what humans now eat and as a result, he has a small soft spot for fried chicken. He misses seeing the stars though, how they remind him of them and the way they’ve created them to be what they are now.

Each one carries someone’s destiny. Maybe he should’ve asked them where his star is.

He buys himself a hearty serving of fried chicken with the various dips to eat for the night. He waits outside of the franchise, watching people come and go, hurrying to bury themselves in the comfort of their own homes. With the years of life on him, he finds no reason to hurry. It doesn’t take too long for the staff to hand his chicken to him, bidding him goodbye as they cater to the next customer. At least he didn’t forget his wallet today.

Yeosang has been a creature of habit, always wanting to do certain things in a certain order every day. But something about today makes him want to break the sense of familiarity, no harm in it he assumes. He’s been the only god in this region thus far, save for a few other creatures that roam the roads to protect the humans from unexplainable happenings. He spots the new coffee shop down the corner, it’s clear that they’re fairly new. He didn’t have anything waiting at home, he could spare them a visit to support their budding endeavors.

He enters the empty shop, and already he’s greeted by a light wind chime tinkling as he closes the door, along with a few pastries on display. There were a few flowers sprinkled about in the premises as well.

“Welcome!”

A bright voice catches his attention and it takes him a few moments to tear his gaze from the curious confectionery treats to shift his attention to the person behind the counter. Something in his chest drops at the sight of you. There’s something about you that stirs a feeling in him and he’s stunned. It’s been awhile since he’s seen eyes that remind him of wine: brewed carefully, poised and intense.

His gaze on you is unmoving, and it causes you to shift on your feet. You clear your throat to have him snap out of his daze. “Sir? Would you like to order something?” You’re worried your first customer is a creep and you’d have to install more security measures in your shop. A small part of you hopes it’s just the first day exhaustion getting the better of you because there’s no logical explanation as to why this man’s eyes seem to glow. He doesn’t answer again and you speak up a little louder this time.

“Sir? Would you like to order?”

Your question brings him back to reality and he blinks for a few moments. He’s not on a hill. He’s in a coffee shop, being eyed with confusion by you. He clears his throat and straightens his back. “Apologies for the lapse in attention, what do you recommend?” He asks carefully, eyeing the sweets and the menu that displays various coffees and tea. Truthfully, he would’ve gone for his black tea but what’s the point when he wants to know more of what your shop creates and gives?

You glance at your menu then at him. “Are you into sweets? If you are, I recommend the iced dark mocha and the caramel macaron. If not, then the Moroccan mint tea latte and the vanilla macaron.” Truthfully, you pegged him as someone who didn’t have a sweet tooth but looks have always been deceiving haven’t they? You watch the man take your options into deep thought as you stand there, waiting for his decision. Should you have described your products? Do they not sound good? Is it too limiting? “I can also rec--”

“I’ll take the mint tea latte and the vanilla macaron.” He says, fishing out his wallet for the second time. Without another word, you ring his order and ask for him to wait for a few moments for you to prepare his order. He takes a seat nearby as he observes the interiors of the new shop. It’s simple, quaint, comfortable, things that remind one of home after a long day.

You approach his table with the prepared latte and macaron in a small bag for him to carry on the way home. “Here are your orders, Sir.” Your voice brings him out of his musings. The smell of mint laced with the subtle sweetness of vanilla greets him as he returns to reality.

“Please just call me Yeosang.” He tells you as he stands up, ready to return home. His eyes still bear a heavy weight as he looks at you intently. The request catches you off guard, but you nod regardless. You watch him leave the premises, leaving you alone with the wind chimes tinkling in his wake. Your eyes follow his figure until he’s out of your sight, walking to wherever you assume he’d live. A strange man indeed but at least you had a customer for today. It’s a slow start but it is a start. It would take a while before you can close for the day but no matter, you can clean up whatever must be cleaned until the next customer comes in.

On the other hand, Yeosang has taken a few sips of the latte, somehow attracted to the subtle creamy texture with the comforting sharpness mint carries. He never had a liking for over sweetened tea with cream, the recent rise of milk tea has left him confused with the palate of humans but this tea fits his taste. He wonders if he can recreate this in the coming days, for now, he wants to be in his home eating his chicken.

His thoughts return to you, wondering who you are really. Someone that reminds him of years past, before the world is what it is now. For now, he focuses on what’s in front of him: fried chicken, tea latte, and a macaron. Perhaps he’ll drop by your shop again in the days to come.

---------

Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t have many customers today because your best friend has decided to enter the establishment. “What’s my favorite human doing?” He asks in the most obnoxious way. The volume startles you out of your daydreams and it’s a good thing you had quick reflexes, otherwise you would’ve dropped your glasses.

“Have you ever heard of an indoor voice, Wooyoung?” You chide, with a wiggle of your finger you conjure a small wisp of icy air against the exposed skin of his ankle. This causes him to yelp in fear, thinking it was an insect. Fortunately, it was just your antics.

He complains after hearing your snickering. “You know I don’t like insects!” He whines as he sauntered over to the counter. He thought you would’ve kept the pearl back home but he guesses the first day jitters made you want the reassurance of the pearl.

You lean against your elbows as he eyes your menu with utmost curiosity. “Can I help you?” His complaints don’t faze you, if anything it makes you want to annoy him more.

“Can’t I worry over my best friend? It is their first day of their new job!” It’s so hard to stay angry at a guy who just knows he’s charming and well intentioned. Also, you’ve known this guy since you were children.

So you sigh, conceding to his wishes, “It’s a slow day, Wooyoung. I’m actually surprised I got this shop to become a reality. I think you’re my third customer-- speaking of which, what would you like to order?”

“Do I get a discount?”

“Do I think you should get a cup full of ice poured down your shirt?”

He pouts at your retort. “Are you at least going to let me buy the strawberry cake?”

“Do you want coffee with that?” You ask as you start ringing up his order.

“Iced americano please?” There was no need to add syrup into his order if he uses that tone again. Maybe that’s the perk of having your best friend taste test all your creations, he just knows what to order and it’s clear that he loves your strawberry cake.

He decides to stay in your shop until closing. There’s really no reason for him to head home when the two of you are sharing an apartment to ease the burden on your respective wallets. Living on your own is expensive. The remaining hours of the shop go by with Wooyoung telling you about his day and his shift at a dance studio. It’s still a little hard to function after the new sickness has ended but life has to keep moving. You fill him in on the new face you saw today, an interesting man, well kept with what looked like high quality clothes, yet the stark contrast of the fried chicken he held was a nice twist you admit. You don’t mention the glowing eyes otherwise Wooyoung would chalk it up to you and your affinity for anything creepy late at night.

“You just met this guy and you’re already gushing about him. This is why I told you to download that dating app already.”

“Shut up, Wooyoung, I’m not into him like that. Even if they do an event to boost their sales, I’m not downloading an app just for the sake of dating!” You return with a whine. Eyes shift from the annoying man lounging on the stool across you, to the clock hanging on the wall. Time to clean up and close for the day. “Move your butt, Wooyoung. I have to clean up the place before I close for the day.” Bless his soul though, for he helps you clean up and take out the trash.

The distance from home isn’t too far, but it isn’t too near either. A few stops away using the train and it doesn’t hurt the wallet for the most part.

Really this spot is a dream come true for you.

----------

‘Leave! Take my people with you!’

‘Don’t be foolish! You can’t fight them alone!’

A harsh shove puts him out of harm’s way. The last thing he sees is the confident smile shining against the heavy downpour.

He awakens with a jolt. Eyes glowing brightly only to dim to brown orbs as he tries to regain his bearings, above him is a cream colored ceiling, not the stormy skies that pelt against his window. It’s been thousands of years but the burden still presents itself on his shoulders. Yeosang sits up, brushing his hair up and out of his vision. On his bedside stands an amulet, sewn into it were the visuals of a rare white flower. Never had he found someone to give this too, for the sake of safekeeping. Choi San was considered but he thought better, his lifestyle would have left the amulet in a concerning state. For now, it will stay on his bedside.

Another day of business meetings.

Another day of wanting something.

See, while Yeosang found comfort in the luxury of his home and in routine, it still felt stifling. Being a god isn’t as glamorous as modern pop culture makes it out to be. He wonders who gave these humans the idea that being immortal, being powerful would be something good. Perhaps the Order’s influence was a lot stronger than what the Archons had assumed. Though he could ask for help in changing such perception, it is out of his power and field to be able to do such. That is a thought for another day, for today, he has to deal with finding a suitable middle ground of a contract with clients from another country.

Now, he could just change his top into something presentable and leave his bottoms as just his pajamas as it is through video call but he prefers to be presentable from head to toe. He’s seen enough slip ups from his peers to consider just changing top up.

Maybe if the weather eases up later in the day, he could give your shop a visit.

--------

You nearly jump out of your bed when Wooyoung bursts in, saying that it’s time to start the day. Who gave Wooyoung the right to make his yelling your alarm clock? You make a mental note to annoy him later on. First thing on the to-do list is to get out of bed which admittedly takes longer than expected.

Once you leave your room, you’re greeted by the smell of something cooking. In this friendship, Wooyoung’s in charge of cooking, while you were in charge of baking. Heavens forbid that the two of you don’t eat well. He was also in charge of you staying physically active thanks to his antics. While you had the Cryo vision, he had Electro. Any ‘static’ that you feel from him was admittedly him just wanting to annoy you.

“How are you so awake this early?” It’s 7AM. You open your shop at 10AM. He on the other hand, his work starts at 2PM today and ends at midnight. If anything, you should be the early bird, while he is the night owl.

“Because between the two of us, i’m easier to wake up. Now go eat before it gets cold!” He chides you gently as he continues to wash up the pans. You glance at the meal set on the table, he made all of these? All these side dishes and meat?

“What time did you wake up?”

“5:30?”

“Jung Wooyoung, what the-- I could’ve just grabbed something from the lady down the street.” You could also make yourself a cup of coffee in your own shop, it’s your own money anyways.

“Relax! I can catch up on sleep before my work starts and mind you, it’s raining so it’s better to get to your shop and be able to dry up before any customer enters. Don’t forget, I packed you some lunch because we all know you’d forget to grab food on the way”

At the mention of rain, you notice the downpour outside. That probably explains the humidity lately. Time for a change of plans on what to wear today, at least your boots could take on the rain and still make you look good. Your bottom lip juts out as you watch the rain but you decide to change your attention to the food in front of you. Heavens forbid that you don’t eat what Wooyoung makes for you, otherwise you would go back to take out and instant food for a good week. Once finished, you’re about to wash the dishes when Wooyoung shoos you off. “Go, you know how the station can be with this weather.” You don’t force it, so you leave your plate by the sink and go and get ready.

--------

You arrive outside your shop, unlocking the door while balancing the umbrella on your shoulder. Once you were inside, you let out a sigh of relief. The dry air inside provides you comfort from the humidity outside. The rain isn’t as hard as it was in the morning but it was still a challenge to walk through people who were damp from the downpour. With the current weather, you didn’t need to water your plants too much so that’s one thing off the list.

You get started on cleaning and setting everything up for the day. Now you weren’t sure if you’d get more customers today but it was better to be safe than sorry. Not long after you cleaned up the place, someone enters the shop. “Hello and welcome!” You greet them warmly from behind the counter. The first thing you notice is his sharp feline features, softened only by his curiosity for the pastries on display. You watch him carefully, wondering if he’ll stay and order something or leave shortly. After all, it is a little too early for sweets, though if that was what he prefers then you shall provide. The mysterious man leans a little closer to the display rack, eyeing the various treats you’re selling. You note the odd streaks of white on his slicked hair, surely this place has their own share of memorable fashion. Maybe in the future you could do something similar to your own hair, you’ve been wanting some sort of a change after all.

“How much for the smallest cake?”

There were various voices that you expected to come out of his mouth, his gentle manner of speaking was not one of them. You look at the cake he’s pointing at. Guess he has an eye for the finer things. “Twelve thousand won, sir..” You return a little flustered by his mannerism.

“Can I ask what’s in it?”

You stand up a little straighter, hoping to make your first sale for the day. “Dark chocolate and milk. There’s dark chocolate mousse in between the layers as well.” To be honest, this is your favorite creation, not too bitter, not too sweet, still perfectly smooth in your mouth. Well, it wasn’t easy to get all the ingredients for it either. He straightens up and looks at his watch. As he looks at the time, you take note of what he’s wearing: are there really people that have expensive taste that live in this side of the city? His bomber jacket alone looks more expensive that your entire outfit. There’s something about how he carries himself that tells you to stay on his good side, no matter how pleasant he presents himself to you.

“I’ll come back later today to buy it.” He states and a small part of you deflates. You don’t want to hope too much on his words, people often do choose niceties rather than honesty. His tone leaves no room for you to guess if it was politeness or a genuine promise so you just nod.

“We’re open until 10 PM, Sir.” You inform him. A part of you doesn’t believe his words but for the sake of making money, you let him know.

“I promise, I’ll come back later.” He eyes your display again, as if trying not to forget your products then at your face. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t recognize but you let it be. Being a regular folk makes everyone look the same but once you’re out here selling things, you end up noticing all the small details. Maybe it’s just in the first few days.

His effort to reassure you makes you chuckle softly. Maybe he does mean it, with that you nod. “I’ll take your word for it, Sir. Have a nice day.” You can only assume that he flashes a smile from how his eyes curve as he bids you goodbye. When he turns his back to you is when you see a teal orb hanging on his waist. Another Vision holder. Maybe you should take the chance to explore the area one of these days. It’s been a while since you met other Vision holders besides Wooyoung and some of his fellow dancers.

It’s the silence that follows once he leaves that makes you wish you had some sort of pet or companion in this shop. But that will be a thought for another day, for now, you busy yourself with your own phone. You couldn’t really message Wooyoung at this hour anymore, you know he’s back in bed catching up on sleep before his shift. Hours pass and you end up busying yourself with a book you found online. It becomes a deep dive at that point, the only time you had to put your phone down is when a customer comes in for a drink and even then making their orders doesn’t take too long.

Your reading takes you to worlds past; how people preserved their memories beyond just the word of mouth and writings. The art that accompanied their memories was a reason as to why certain practices are still being done until present. Through faded colors, the preservations to keep them still visible and intact have brought you to beyond just the materials and methods of the past. It has brought you to the vivid awareness of a working society that had dwindled down then revived to become the society you now live in.

By the time you snap yourself back to reality, it’s already 3PM. You forgot to eat your lunch. You look outside and the streets weren’t that cramped yet. It won’t be until two hours later when rush hour begins. Wooyoung was right once more, you decided to just eat towards the back. Making sure that people still know that there’s someone inside the shop while still having the comfort of privacy to eat.

The windchimes ring again, making you cover your food immediately and rush over to the counter. “Hello and welcome!” You say, out of habit.

“Hello again!” The same guy from earlier has returned. This time with Yeosang. It takes a moment for you to get over your surprise, not expecting the two of them to know each other. Really, what were the odds?

Yeosang too looks at you with wide eyes, piercing and unmoving, but it’s the soft curve of his lips that dampens the intensity of his gaze. Only you were not aware of the turmoil inside the other’s body. San was all too aware of it but he says nothing.

“Hello! Have you decided what to buy?” You ask, tone carrying careful gentleness as you try to keep your gaze on the man with the white streak.

“Yup! The dark chocolate cake from earlier and two vanilla tea lattes please!” You didn’t really expect this sharp eyed man to carry such a bright tone in his voice.

You take the chance to glance over at Yeosang. He clearly looked a little embarrassed to be trapped in his peer’s hold. A small smile warms your features, a little amused to see someone who gave you the impression of being so composed turn a little red. “Sure thing, that’s 16,000 won.” You state, ringing up their orders. “To go or dine in?”

“Would dine in be fine?” Yeosang’s friend asks.

“Perfectly fine.”

“Then dine in please.”

You direct them to sit anywhere as they wait for their orders. The two leave you to it, and once you are out of earshot Yeosang breathes out in relief. “Choi San, you are blessed that I can’t throw you out to sea right now.” He hisses, though without any malice.

“I can see why you’re affected though, heh.” San snickers, his eyes flickering towards your general direction. He’s unfazed by Yeosang’s eyes glowing into an intense blue. It’s an empty threat, they’ve been through worse and a human reminding them of a dear presence won’t hurt him. “They do have similar energies, and an affinity for plants.” San notes, gesturing to the presence of flowers in your shop. “Especially that one in particular.” He adds. Should he feel alarmed?

You quickly serve their orders, leaving them alone as you try to finish your meal quickly before the smell disturbs them. It’s not too long until you finish your meal, a major factor being that you weren’t reading as you ate.

You stay behind the counter for the rest of their stay, making sure to stay out of their earshot,as you continue your reading to pass the time as it is only them who have decided to stay in your shop.

“So you’re saying, the human behind the counter, reminds you of them?”

Yeosang sighs at the inquiry, he should’ve expected the disbelief. It’s been thousands of years since his lover had made their return to this world since their passing. The edge of the cup grazes the bottom of Yeosang’s lips as he thinks. “Yes, I don’t quite understand why or how, but if my nightmares have returned then that must be something.” Truly, when it comes to his dear lover, his logic tends to be thrown out the window. Not entirely, at least. At the mention of night terrors, his companion raises an eyebrow in surprise. “San, take my word at least at the mere fact that my night terrors have returned.”

San’s features fall slightly at Yeosang’s unwillingness to discuss his nightmares. It’s a reasonable move, they can never tell when the walls listen. “Can we at least talk about this at your place? I remember you clearly choosing that building for their refusal to be affiliated with any organization.”

“Very well. Once we have finished our meal here, we can return.”

It’s not until you hear his friend thank you for the food and coffee for the second time that you realize you’ve been in too deep into the reading material. The sight of you trying to regain your surroundings as you blink away the words swimming about in your vision makes Yeosang’s friend chuckle lightly. Yeosang on the other hand eyes you closely.

“San, can you wait for me outside? I won’t take too long.”

So that’s his name. You glance at the male who shoots you a bright smile as he leaves the premises, he eventually stays near the door. Once he’s out of ear shot, Yeosang clears his throat to get your attention again.

“Are you alright? You seem rather dazed. '' Yeosang asks. There’s something in his tone that you couldn’t quite tell if it was concern or not.

Dazed might be an understatement. “Yes I’m fine, I just got too into what I was reading..” You explain a little shyly as you try to regain your bearings. You can still see some words in your vision, it takes a few more blinking for them to melt from your sight.

He smiles a little at your reaction. “If it’s not too much to ask, what were you reading about? Surely, it must have been an interesting topic?”

You glance at your phone, unsure of how to describe what you had been reading. “It was uh, art history.” This piques his interest, something in his eyes sparkles and it takes a bit of your self control to not chuckle at the obvious enthusiasm.

“Is that so? Perhaps I can take some of your time in the future so that we can talk about art?”

Was he asking you out? You stare at him in disbelief. The question is still trying to sink in.

If you weren’t who he thinks you are, a friend would be good enough for him.

“Of course, if you aren’t interested I won’t take any offense in it.” He follows up upon your silence. He worries if he was a little too forward with such a question.

“No!” You speak up, surprised by the force in your own voice. “I mean, no… as in, no it’s not that I’m not interested, it’s just, I don’t know you besides your name.”

You have every right to be wary, he thinks. The current era has birthed plenty of amorality. Even if one seemed harmless, it might be too late when the realization of its true power sets in. His hand comes up to his chin in thought. He genuinely wants your trust, besides his earnest wish of you being his past lover, your interest in something he likes could lead to the two of you being friends. “Would it be alright if I become a regular in your shop though?”

The question takes you by surprise because in usual circumstances, the customer becoming a regular is a gradual unspoken promise. Maybe it was for your own safety too as his initial question could be understood with some malice. Something in you tells you that you’re safe with him. At that thought, you smile warmly. “I wouldn’t mind. It will take a while before I memorize your order though.” Also, you needed to make money.

“Good things take time.”

His words make you laugh lightly. “You should get going, your friend has been waiting for you for quite some time now.” You remind him gently as you tip your head at San’s general direction. He’s already pouting, clearly impatient.

Yeosang’s cheeks glow in embarrassment for letting his friend wait. “Very well, I’ll see you tomorrow then…?” He trails off, unsure of how to address you. You catch on to the gap and offer him a nickname.

Yeosang repeats after you thoughtfully, and his eyes warm up when he fixes his gaze to you. “I shall get going then.”

You watch him leave the shop, greeted by a relieved San by the doorway. The two of them bid you goodbye, and you watch them walk off until you couldn’t see them anymore.

What an odd day, you thought to yourself. At least you had something to look forward to each day now.

---------

“What do you think?” San asks by the door of his apartment.

“It may or may not be them.” Yeosang admits. They were always a sensitive topic for him. “Regardless, should it not be them, a human friend might do me some good in this worn world.”

His wording reminds San of his other plan and it makes his heart drop slightly. “You’re really considering it?”

A heavy sigh slips from Yeosang’s lips but he nods. “I’m far too old, San. Someone needs to take over soon as much as I would like it to be you, you have your own responsibilities in this world that only you can fulfill.”

The conversation takes a heavy turn that San wasn’t ready for that he had it turn back to you. “Did you ever get their name? What did you talk about?”

Yeosang updates the male in your lengthy conversation. San notices the small smile on his friend’s features. “...By tomorrow, I’ll be back in their shop, roughly the same time.”

“Yeosang, the both of us know that it isn’t roughly the same time, you’ll be there on the dot. What’s going to happen if you get tired of the same drink huh?”

“I will try their other products.”

“You’re going to spend so much money over them, Yeosang.”

“If it means building a genuine connection then it’s a small price to pay.”

--------

It becomes a thing that you wait for everyday now; him coming by your coffee shop at this exact time everyday. Every 5PM you start to await his arrival. At this point, you already know his order by heart: vanilla tea latte with two pieces of dark chocolate macarons. Sometimes, if the two of you were lucky, he stays with you beyond closing time and by then, you could offer to taste test some of your possible new products.

Today is a lucky day for the two of you. It’s nearing closing time and you’ve told some of your customers that you would be closing up soon, to give them enough time to wrap up and go. Enough time as well for you to clean up everything and if time permits, for Yeosang to taste test some of your creations. You walk up to Yeosang’s table. “Excuse me, Sir? We’re closing in an hour.” You state as professionally friendly as you can-- if that was even possible.

The male looks up from his book to be greeted by your features and your weak attempt to keep yourself from smiling. He slips the bookmark in between his reading, and from your view point, it looked like a reading on a certain era of history. You don’t get enough time to look at it better as he closes the book gently. “Shall I leave the premises, dear?” He entertains you for a moment, flashing a soft smile once you chuckle softly at his efforts.

“You can, but that would also mean you won’t be able to taste something I’ve been trying out lately.” Something in his eyes flashes with curiosity and excitement. It honestly reminds you of a cat that’s staring at their favorite toy.

“Then I shall stay and keep you company.” He returns. By now, the rest of the customers have left. You change the sign to only accepting take out orders for the last hour. “Do you need my assistance?” He offers, looking around the usually spotless place. There were some used plates along with a few mugs that should be washed on some tables, along with the trash. He wonders how you manage to do all of this by yourself. When he approaches the counter, he sees you already cleaning the coffee machines first. He calls your nickname again, and this time you manage to shift your attention to the male standing by the counter.

“Yes?”

“Would you like some assistance?” He reiterates, waiting for your response.

You look around the place and you spot the used plates and mugs. “Can you get those for me,please? Just put them by the sink. I’ll wash them.” As soon as he nods and gets to work, you busy yourself again with the coffee machines, making sure everything was spotless before getting yourself to wash everything. It takes a few trips from the man himself to get everything stacked neatly near the sink.

“Anything else, dear?”

At this point, you’ve gotten used to Yeosang calling you dear. There was a certain sweetness to how he calls your nickname as well, reminding you of hot tea sweetened slightly by honey. “Just keep me company, and tell me about your day.” You return, pulling him a seat as you start to wash everything.

He accepts your offer, sitting down across you as he tells you about his day. For him, it was not anything extraordinary: meetings within the morning, visitations within the afternoon, up until the time of him being able to spend the last few hours of the day here with you. But you didn’t let him off that easy, you wanted to know more about this man who decided to befriend you. He entertains your questions with ease.

“So you’re telling me, you’re part of a board of directors of a museum?” You’ve always wanted to work in one but life had other plans for you. You were thankful your coffee shop was picking up with the people that you were slowly having more than enough money to keep you and Wooyoung above water. Maybe when you manage to make more money, you could buy some simple art works to hang around your shop.

“That is correct. Are you interested in them?” He asks, head tilting to the side as he watches you dry all the plates and mugs before keeping them. While you busy yourself with keeping everything in order, he picks up his book. His fingers fly across the pages, looking for something.

“I am.” You turn on your heels, drying your hands before pulling a small cake out of the refrigerator. “Always loved going to museums when I had the time. Anything related to art and its history, I loved it.”

He sees the small container, wondering if this is the cake you wanted him to try. “Is this the one you want me to try?” His inquiry is affirmed by your nod.

“I tried a little something with this one, lavender and blueberry cake. It’s not really something you hear or see on the usual…” You had to admit it was a risk, too much lavender and it risks being potpourri. For you, the amount you put into creating this was just right, but you had to get a third opinion as well. You weren’t selling food for your own taste after all. You ready a glass of water as well, should Yeosang need to wash out any undesired taste. Yeosang’s eyes don’t seem to have any apprehension to your cake. True, it looks a little plain but he does understand the need to not waste on design when the material itself still isn’t of the desired outcome. He takes a small bite out of your cake, just as curious as you are, and if anything he trusts your skills that it wouldn’t be a poor result.

All of a sudden, his eyes light up and he raises a thumbs up to your cake. “This is actually lovely. Lavender’s subtle, the blueberry adds the sweetness and the cake isn’t too dense and moist. It’s lovely. Can I bring an additional slice home?” There’s a bit of icing that’s left on the corner of his mouth.

“Y-yeosang, you got a little bit of icing on your mouth..” You say, too focused on the pale purple cream. You watch him flounder about trying to rid of it with his finger, only to fail. At his failed attempts, you laugh softly. “Let me do it for you.” You grab a piece of tissue, and when you shift your attention to him, he’s finally wiped some of the cream off. It’s a bit endearing to see a man so well poised look rather lost and a little frustrated over something as small as icing. “Here.” You tip his chin up for him to stay put as you wipe it off successfully.

Yeosang feels his heart nearly jump out of his throat at the proximity, especially at your gaze. It’s only when you let go of his chin that he feels himself breathing again. From then on, he ate carefully and slowly. It’s not that he didn’t want that type of closeness.

While he finishes what’s left of the cake, you pack up the rest of the cake you had offered into a small box. “Keep the rest of it.” You state and Yeosang suddenly perks up in surprise at such offer. “I can recreate the cake anyways, I had Wooyoung taste the first half, so we still have some back home.” You explain.

Who was he to say no? So, he flashes you a smile, one filled with utmost thanks and gratitude. “Thank you, I’ll try to make sure that San gets a taste of this as well.” He returns.

He asks you where you live, not for personal wants but out of concern for your safety. It’s late into the night by the time the two of you left the shop and to walk on your own was surely a dangerous thing to do. From how you’ve spent your time with him, you don’t see any malice in his questions. You reassure him that you don’t go home on your own, rather you wait for Wooyoung outside the dance studio. “Would it be alright if I accompanied you to where this Wooyoung is?”

The walk to the studio has you telling him who Wooyoung is. A best friend who was practically like a brother to you since you could remember. You weren’t quite ready to tell him just yet as to how the two of you became so close. That was left for a better time. You do tell him that both of you are Vision carriers, just like he is, only Wooyoung had the electro vision, while you a cryo vision. “I honestly thought he would get the pyro vision knowing how much he loves to dance but I guess life had other plans for him.” You admit with a bashful laugh. You mention his vision in passing, not out of rudeness but out of curiosity. A hydro vision, you can imagine just how driven and eccentric this man could be.

He doesn’t correct your assumption on him. He did carry an orb like object on him, just dangling around his waist was a deep blue orb, almost as if it carries the water from the deepest parts of the ocean. He wonders how you got your vision, cryo carriers always had a story to tell that are usually not for the faint of heart. Yet, he understands that there are boundaries one must not cross.

He climbs up the stairs with you, until he’s assured that you will be safe for the time being. “Stay safe on the way home.” He says, readying himself to leave once the studio’s staff have recognized you.

“How will I know if you’re safe as well?” You ask, pouting a little at the man you’ve come to appreciate. That was a good question, he paused for a moment, thinking of how he would be able to inform you of his safety. Your eyes brighten at an idea. “I can give you my number?” You offer.

It was a good thing the offer came from you because should it come from him and the altercations that carries would be too much to bear. He hands you his phone, somehow you weren’t surprised with the model. If he looked like he can buy the entire building your coffee shop stands on, the latest phone model would be nothing. Once you’re done putting in your number, he calls the number and true enough your phone rings. “Rest assured, I’ll be home safely.” He repeats. His gut wants to press a light kiss on your forehead but not now-- not in front of all these people, not when the two of you are still warming up. With that in thought, he decides to pat your head lightly as his goodbye.

“Who is that?” The man asks after handling the identification process for the students. Your eyes flit to the dancers waiting by the door, they’re probably waiting for the last class of the day.

“Hm?” You ask a little confused by the question until it dawned on you that Yunho, a friend of Wooyoung, was referring to the stranger who accompanied you. “Oh! Yeosang…” You trail off, unsure of how to define what the two of you had just yet. “I guess, he’s my friend.” You say after a moment. That sounds right, yeah the two of you have grown closer over the past few weeks. It seems to be correct to call him a friend at least.

“A friend huh?” He repeats with a waggle of his eyebrows, just to tease you.

You roll your eyes, playfully threatening to punch his arm. “Yes he is! Don’t get funny ideas, Yunho or else I’m not bringing cookies anymore.” You say much to his horror. The sight of his features dropping into a pout makes you coo.

As you wait for Wooyoung’s class to end, you and Yunho catch up on what has happened. The studio seemed to carry more vision carriers than you expected. It made sense though, a dance studio harbors people with various reasons that had kept them pushing in this form of art. Yunho was one of them, a pyro vision carrier. One way or another, a vision carrier manages to know a fighting style or handle a weapon. For Yunho, it was a longsword. Truthfully, you never have seen him handle it but you know for sure he’d be graceful with it.

You tell Yunho of how you met Yeosang, and admittedly he was an interesting guy with eyes that were so strong when caught in a situation he didn’t expect. Yunho then trades a story of how the studio was going to stay open a little later than usual-- it seemed that a big name had rented the studio after their dance class. It’s a good thing that he was a bit of a nocturnal so he’s going to stay while the studio’s being used.

“How are you going to stay awake on your own?” You ask, aghast by the idea of staying up that late.

“No worries. We have coffee in the office so I can make myself a cup. Also Wooyoung gave us some of your white chocolate cookies that were scratch.” He admits with a toothy grin. You let him take the scratch, he pays for your goods whenever he has his cravings anyways.

“Just make sure that if you want a better version, you’ll pay.” You tease.

The conversation is cut short when the door opens and the students step out, clearly exhausted but happy with the class. Wooyoung is the last to exit, the other staff rushing in to quickly clean the room before the next class uses it. He’s just as sweaty and tired but the way his face lights up tells you otherwise. You thrust your hands out putting space between the two of you. “If you think of hugging me while you’re drenched in sweat, I will not share the leftovers from today.” You threaten and he whines in rebuttal.

“Is it the strawberry cake?”

“No..?”

“Okay, then come here.” He quickly returns beckoning you to come over to his arms. You quickly scoot away behind Yunho.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry..” You whine, pouting. Wooyoung looks at you in mild alarm at your statement.

“Did you forget to eat?!”

“I don’t like eating dinner without you, dumbass.” You admit as you follow him into the office, bidding Yunho a goodbye.

The words make Wooyoung coo this time, squishing your cheeks in his hands. “Just let me wash up real quick then we can eat here.”

You sit by the couch as you wait for him to return. As you get comfortable, albeit sleepy, your phone vibrates with a message from an unknown message.

[ ??? to You ] I’m back home safe now. :) -Yeosang

It’s Yeosang. The corners of your lips quirk upwards at the realization, while Wooyoung hasn’t returned you quickly type up a reply.

[ You to Yeosang ] That’s great! I hope you get a good night’s sleep ^^

You read his message once more and you feel a little bit of relief knowing that he’s safe.

Wooyoung comes out looking a little better than earlier. The towel draped over his shoulders. “Let’s eat dumdum.” He says, dragging his chair over to where you are with his meal.

The two of you share the happenings over the day. Wooyoung being surprised that Yeosang has walked you to the studio especially at this time. “Maybe I should meet him sometime.” He says. It’s not that he’s jealous, he’s been protective of you since day one. Anyone can take an interest to take advantage of anyone nowadays, he felt relief knowing that you had decided to wait for him instead of walking straight home with him.

“Yeosang-- ah what, Wooyoung! Wooyoung, you don’t have to do that..” You say, clearly confused as to why you had Yeosang’s name instead of Wooyoung’s in your head.

Wooyoung stares at you dumbfounded by the slip up. “Kid, just say if you’re heads over heels for him. Whatever, I’m keeping an eye on that guy.” You can’t blame his protective nature, until now no one really knows how the Order knew of your family’s whereabouts. Whatever their method was, it had to come from someone who was in close contact with your parents thus resulting in you being the only one still alive. You also know that Wooyoung’s incredibly stubborn so you give in. It was inevitable for anyone who knew you to know Wooyoung and vice versa, the two of you are a package deal. “So he comes to your shop every day? Same time?” He asks. You can already see the gears in his head moving.

“Wooyoung, if you scare him off, I swear--” You grumble through your food. It’s not that you didn’t like his protective manners, for once you felt a little happy to have a friend who wasn’t from his circle; someone you’ve met on your own. “Listen, I didn’t even tell Yeosang my real name yet for my safety too.”

That was something he didn’t expect, though a smart move, it was something he understood. Your words make him stop in thought. He still wants to meet him. “Fine but I still want to meet him because he’s someone who’s growing on you.”

You wonder how he didn’t get the geo vision, but you concede to his wishes. “He’s in the shop every 5PM onwards, always with a book.”

“You’re telling me this guy stays with you.. In the shop.. Until you close?”

His question makes you shoot him a look. “Did everything I tell you just exit out the other ear?”

“No, they’re all up in here. I just wanted to get the facts straight….” he trails off, pushing the chair back to where his workspace is to look at his schedule. “Alright, I don’t need to come in tomorrow,” Oh, dear. “Which means, I can meet this friend of yours to make sure he isn’t anyone shady.”

At his plan, you lean back on the couch. There really is no point in changing his mind. “Fine, let’s finish up and head home. The two of us need a shower.”

On the way home, you tell him as well that you were going to start selling the lavender cake by next month. “I still got half of the tester cake saved for you.”

He has a feeling you gave half of it to Yeosang but he spares you from his teasing. Wooyoung flashes an excited smile as the two of you walk out of the station. “Great, while I wait for you to finish showering, I’ll finish the cake.”

“Jung Wooyoung!”

part 2

#my writings #yeosang fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #yeosang scenario #idk what else to tag this as #yeosang x reader

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