#service top namjoon

[bulletproofscales]

seven days a week

a drabble inspired by jungkooks song. also a sort of an epilogue to one of my firstborn long fics, self control but you can read this on its own too! im never one to write about releases/bdays but this song... it deserved it.

tags: service top jungkook , nsfw, ot7 , fat ot6 , gentle sex , breath play , beer stuffing , rough dirty talk , humiliation , body shaming , d/s dynamics , tight clothes , public space , sub headspace , squashing kink

4.k words

AO3 LINK

Jungkook knew for sure something had changed after that faithful dinner. Where the tension broke loose and their relationship developed into something else. Something more.

But not that much. With the size of his hyungs, Jungkook was already used to being of service as much as he could. He was used to helping Seokjin into his car. Bringing up the beer sixpacks up the stairs for Namjoon. Be on the look out to tug Yoongi's shirt back down from his overhangs, so he doesn't get sunburnt. Go looking for skincare products with Hoseok for his newly blooming stretchmarks. Kneeling in front of Jimin before he hesitates to ask for Jungkook to tie his shoes. And offer and arm for Taehyung to lean his weight into when they're walking together, keeping track of his own pace to not hurry the older.

So he was used to helping them, but never like this. He didn't know helping could feel this good.

It was a slow process, it wasn't like just after that night Jungkook fell straight into the role of his hyungs' fuck thing.

One night, at Seokjin's place, he caught sight of his hyung rubbing his lower back with a pained expression while getting the dishes off the coffee table (even when Jungkook insisted, Seokjin worked hard to still try and spoil the dongseang in any way he could). He could hear the grunting as he watched Seokjin's chubby hand struggle to reach at the spot where the pain must be coming from: right in the center of his fattened lower back.

He bites his lip, quietly getting up, sneaking behind Seokjin. Not saying a word as his hand reaches easily, thumb sinking into the bulging fat of his muffin top to rub against it. Seokjin's reaction is immediate, knees buckling (as if they weren't shaky enough from standing), and gripping the edge of the kitchen countertop as he sighed in relief.

"Jungkook..." It sounds like the beginning of a complaint. So the younger doesn't let him finish, chin carefully hooking onto the pliant chub of his shoulder; nuzzling whatever is left of his neck.

"I got it." Jungkook reassures with a whisper. His other hand cupping Seokjin's fattened waist, keeping him in place gingerly as his tattooed hand works the strain on his back. His own muscular legs staying in place as Seokjin leaned more and more of his weight on Jungkook the more he relaxed.

That's how it started at least. His crotch inevitably sinking into the roundness of Seokjin's ass. Hand getting a proper feel of his hyung's body for the first time since that night. Still careful about how much was too much. He couldn't help it when the tent in his pants began to show, and embarrassingly press to Seokjin's inviting body.

But even then, with the slow and painful build of his hard on, the urging of his hips to hump against the welcoming softness. Jungkook keeps it slow. Not wanting to make Seokjin even ore sore than he already is. Guiding him to his room with curious but gentle hands. Seokjin's lips showing that same hesitance in the soft meeting of their lips. Jungkook taking advantage of his strength to help lower his hyung onto the bed.

He learns then, that Seokjin needs it gentle. Careful touches, firm but precise. Massaging moans and soft sighs out of him as lays sprawled out of the bed. Looking up at Jungkook with a smile that holds an unfamiliar shyness to it, smiling softly as Jungkook works his body like a treasure. Keeping his thrusts slow but deep into him, pillows under his lower back both to prevent any pain but angle Seokjin's heavy body just the right way. Whispered and embarrassed praise leaving Seokjin's lips. His hands showing all the urgency his voice is to shy to demonstrate, tangling in his longer hair, keeping him closer to kiss him languidly but hungry. Seokjin likes it gentle.

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Jungkook always ends up getting drunk around Namjoon. He was never a lightweight, but he doubts anyone could even come close to Namjoon's capacity to chug beer. Jungkook always tries to keep up anyway, even if he knows the tipsy feeling will hit as Namjoon isn't even halfway full. Trusts his hyung to take care of him even in that state. Drowsy and whiny as he leans to Namjoon's broad shoulders. Ever patient with Jungkook.

Even when he starts to lose track of what he is saying.

"So why do you like beer so much anyway?" In the back of his mind, Jungkook can tell his own sobriety is slipping away. Slurred words and puppy eyes.

"You really wanna know?" Namjoon's smile holds all that patience and endearment it always.

He nods so quickly his body leans even closer, putting his hand on Namjoon's thigh for some stability. Uncaring of the closeness of their faces. "Desperately." From this close, Jungkook can see the twitch of his smile, the hint of something else mixed with the warmth of his eyes.

"I love how it makes me feel." He whispers deeply. The quietness of his voice only urging Jungkook to lean closer. "It's the only thing that can make me this full this quickly."

"And you like being full." A redundant comment, but Jungkook is far too drowsy to be smart about this. Not able to hide his smug smile, as if he were discovering a secret of Namjoon's.

But it certainly feels like it, when his hyung smiles embarrassed. "Yeah... Though that's not what I like the most about it." Jungkook's expression falters as he leans impossibly closer; wordless question hanging at the edge of his lips. Namjoon seems to understand. "I like... How breathless it makes me. Iike feeling out of breath."

Namjoon must be tipsy too, from this close he can tell. In the way his cheeks are slightly reddened from their usual golden shade. Lazy gaze and parted lips. Breathing heavily, but just barely.

"You still have more room." Jungkook states simply but whispered. Only getting a timid nod in response. The younger doesn't hesitate from taking the tall beer can from Namjoon's loose grip and bringing it to his lips. Waiting for some type of resistance but Namjoon wordlessly opened his lips for Jungkook.

The tension was immediate, Namjoon's ands finding refuge in Jungkook's slim waist, keeping him close. Flustering the younger into a bigger sense of urgency, tilting the cans in a steeper angle. Satisfied not only from the way Namjoon's stomach bulged out in effort, but the gradually louder wheezed breaths. Having to part his lips as he drank just to coax more air into him, bloat taking up too much space for his lungs.

Without that much beer left, Jungkook wanted to make his hyung feel breathless in more than one way. Urging him to stand despite his breathless whines. Pinning him to the wall as they stood. Just that action alone enough to get him sweaty and gasping for air. Gasping out from the kisses just to catch his breath. Only weaker as Jungkook's hand found their way to Namjoon's bulge, holding onto the younger for dear life. Forehead resting in Jungkook's shoulder, where he could hear Namjoon's wheezing; feel the movement of his rounded stomach with each inhale pressing tighter against Jungkook's lean torso.

His noises are unlike anything Jungkook's heard, breathless and gasped out. Barely comprehensible beyond a cracked whine and the shivering of his legs. Not even able to finish his words before he needs another gasp of air. Feeling the dampness of his forehead against his shoulder, the wetness making his shirt cling to his belly, wetting Jungkook's along too. Dick moist making the slide easier without having to move form their spot against the wall of Namjoon's living room.

But his hyung likes to get breathless. So Jungkook separates right when he feels Namjoon on the edge. "We need lube, hyung." He grins unapologetic as tugs at Namjoon's hand and drags him to the bedroom.

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He didn't notice it at first, probably because it was part of their dynamic since his hyungs started gaining weight. But after that night they became impossibly more open about it, albeit luckily not as tantalizing as they were before.

But, Hoseok, the lightest of the group (after Jungkook, of course), would get teased endlessly. Called names like 'twig', the butt of most of their jokes. And even if he knew his hyungs' relationship with one another ran deeper than he ever anticipated. He began noticing the way Hoseok's shoulders slumped a bit; the way his gaze, even through his chuckles avoided the rest.

It was only an experiment. Jungkook merely wanted to see if he could get a better reaction out of the older. One that appreciated his weight gain in spite of not keeping up the pace with the rest of his partners.

They were out together, enjoying the time out as a way to get some privacy. It wasn't intentional, anyone was invited to come. But the idea of walking around with them both for hours wasn't that tempting to the rest of them. So it became their little moment together. Just going out to walk around and go to a coffee and talk about their week. Tonight they went out for drinks, maybe jump around a few bars. Maybe that's what motivated Jungkook, that after their walk together and Hoseok's sits on the bar stool, that he says.

"Oh my god, hyung. You're outgrowing the chair." He can't help the teasing tone of his voice, or the mean smile that grows on his face. But he doesn't have time to feel regretful of it, not when Hoseok blushed looking down at himself. "Your ass is spilling out." He chuckles.

"I- Well... They're kind of small." His heart-shaped smile is bashful as he looks down at it. Blushing beautifully, Jungkook takes it as an opportunity to go on.

"I fit fine." Shrugging he eyes Hoseok up and down. "Because I'm not a fatass." His smile grows more demeaning, as the older's eyes widen. Jungkook never spoke to him like this. No one has. "You're still at a spot where you could stop and go back to your old size..." He leans closer, his hand caressing the bits that overspill. "But you're too much of a glutton to do that, aren't you?"

"I-I am." The space between them is so little, he can hear Hoseok's whispers over the loud music.

"You like stuffing your face too much to stop." Jungkook notices from the corner of his eyes the way his thighs press together. Looking up at Hoseok to find his eyes already on Jungkook's. "I bet you're hungry already." His fingers grope into the hanging fat. Urging a nod out of him. Jungkook's smile growing even more. "Wanna get out of here, fatty?"

The rush of heat to Hoseok's cheeks says it enough. How much he needed his growth to be recognized. And Jungkook is eager to do so. Taking him out to the nearest restaurant they can find, making mean comments about his order to the waiter, about his fit into the chair, about his messy eating. Making sure he doesn't forget what a pig he is turning into.

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A lot of people would say Yoongi is hard to read. Not for them though, they got him all figured out. So its easy to pick up when Yoongi came back from his trip home to his family, that the low angle of his head and slumped curve of his shoulders meant something was up. Jungkook just happened to be hanging out with Seokjin when his roommate arrived from a family weekend in Daegu.

Seokjin saw it too. Easy to tell from the worried glance he threw Jungkook's way. He wasn't gonna pry, but it was easy to guess. Yoongi had mentioned about his family disapproving of his lifestyle. Not just his sexuality but the way he 'let go' of himself. He can't imagine this weekend going much better, now that Yoongi was at his heaviest weight. And also in a big gay polyamorous relationship with his six best friends. They didn't mention it though, he continued with the movie he and Seokjin were watching, Yoongi joining even if they were already halfway through. And the oldest of the three stretched lazily, getting off the couch with Jungkook's help, and said his goodbyes. Leaving Jungkook and Yoongi alone.

The air a little tense, with Jungkook's awkwardness, Yoongi in an understandably bad mood, and none of Seokjin's big personality to mediate between them. So Jungkook is just a tiny bit nervous when he says.

"I--uhm, I think you're gaining beautifully, hyung." Even through the tension, he means those words fully. Smiling timid to Yoongi's stunned expression, afraid if he is stepping out of line, or assuming the wrong thing happened, or-

"You think so?" Yoongi's voice is so small. Eyes vulnerable in Jungkook's direction. Not distrustful, but in a clear search of reassurance. And Jungkook is more than willing, smile growing confident but sweet as he nods.

"Yeah, the weight is settling perfectly. It fits you so pretty." He stands up as he says it, Yoongi's gaze following him like a lost puppy's. As he kneels in front of his hyung, getting lost under the big dome of his belly.

"You don't think its too much, right? Am I taking it too far?" His hands begin to caress the pillowy expanse of his belly, from the saggy overhang up the curve towards the shelf of it. If Yoongi could see him, he'd see the loving expression over his face.

"No... I don't think its too much. I love seeing you take up so much space." Yoongi's voice is so quiet Jungkook's makes sure to match the gentleness of it. Whispering back as his nose begins to nuzzle the soft skin of is stomach. "Finally letting yourself enjoy. You look so good."

Maybe it was the whimper that Yoongi let out, or how, when lifting himself to see his face, the older's eyes had gotten just slightly bit teary. But Jungkook finds himself leaning for his lips. Tender and gentle, as his hands adventured through his body. Praise leaving his lips just to be swallowed by Yoongi's. Whose eyes looked at the younger with an amount of trust and vulnerability that Jungkook felt lucky to witness. Worshipping his body with his words, his lips his hands. But Yoongi didn't need the tenderness he offered to Seokjin, Yoongi could handle the strength, the urgency; he just needed someone to love him intensely. Make up for all that judgement with praise.

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Taehyung was unapologetically fat, though he openly mourned the fact that his fashion sense had to become downgraded. Constantly whining about it, bringing out clothes that used to fit and now can't. Parading around everyone just how ill fitting they are on his fattened body. Thriving on the attention of his partner's aroused eyes trailing over his body.

They all knew what Taehyung was doing, and how they were all giving him exactly what he wanted. All their undivided attention as he whines about outgrowing another button up. It made something awake in Jungkook, an idea.

It was just them both today. Jungkook was picking Taehyung up for, of course, some new clothes shopping. Jungkook driving them to the special sizes store. He knew today was the time to put his experiment to the test. Completely normal as he helped Taehyung into the backseat of his car. Of course hearing Taehyung ramble about being a 3XL when Jungkook knows for a fact he isn't anymore; hasn't been for months.

He is doing the thing. And this time Jungkook won't fall for it.

They're in the closet room, having helped Taehyung carry the huge pile of clothes he picked out. Almost none of them his size. As Jungkook sat on the bench in front of the changing rooms on his phone. Hearing ruffling from behind the curtain at the supersized changing room Taehyung was in.

"What do you think?" The older chirps confidently revealing himself. Jungkook barely glanced up. And sure enough, Taehyung had picked out an outfit that did not fit in him. Not in the slightest.

Taehyung is looking for him to fight back, to call him a fatso, and point out just how ridiculous he looks. How big he looks. But Jungkook forces himself to look back at his phone. "Looks good." He says uninspired.

"Ah, really?" He lazily turns to look in the mirror, almost the entire bottom of his belly peaking out from under the shirt, squeezing the life out of his chest and his pillowy fat arms. Everything trying to jiggle out of the shirts deathly grip. An amazing view.

"Mhm. Looks great." Jungkook repeats himself, struggling to act unaffected by the sight of Taehyung. "Show me something else."

He feels satisfied when he hears Taehyung huff a little. Pout surely adorning his lips. Cute. "Fine. Wait here." The curtains close and the ambience music of the store is accompanied by the ruffling of Taehyung changing. A bit longer than before until there's a moment of quiet.

"Jungkookie."

"Yes?"

"I can't get out of this shirt." Jungkook's eyes widen then. He was prepared to ignore Taehyung, when he was at the safe distance. Not heping him out of the little shirt he managed to squeeze himself into.

"Oh, oh okay, wait." He gets up quickly going in too. The changing room prepared for two people to fit in, naturally. But Jungkook was still cramped in. Greeted by the sight of Taehyung, hem of his shirt digging into the middle of his stomach. Fat face barely poking out from the collar, probably skin sight as well. Arms up helplessly in the air. Though the angle of it all, his belly lifts enough from the belt, showing the tent in his pants.

Oh.

"Yeah... Yeah I'll help you." He smiles a bit endeared. Looks like someone's plan backfired. Taehyung has to press his naked chubby back flat against the cold mirror just for Jungkook to have enough room. The younger's thighs slotting between Taehyung's big ones. His knee brushing against the tent as he begins to innocently sink his fingers in the tight confines of the hem of the shirt and Taehyung's jiggly stomach. Tugging it off.

"A-ah, Jungkook, careful." He whispers, his entire body wobbling in sync to the younger's movements.

"Why should I?" His smile remains ever sweet. "You know what you're getting into when you try clothes 2 sizes smaller." He raises an eyebrow, letting his knee press harsher against Taehyung's semi. Loving the way he tries to play dumb and swallow down his whimper. "And you go crazy for it too... Loving making a pig out of yourself in front of all of us."

"I--I don't." Taehyung argues but Jungkook can feel the older's dick twitch against his knee.

"Don't argue. Not when I can feel how much you like it. You attention whore." He chuckles lowly. Pressing Taehyung firmer against the wall. "I'm not gonna fall for it. If you want something, you're gonna have to use your words, hm?" Taehyung's eyes are widened and teary, blown out pupils as his dick bulges against Jungkook. "What do you want fatty?"

Taehyung likes to play with them. But Jungkook knows he likes it even more when he has to work hard to get it.

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Something similar happened with Jimin. Where he would make a spectacle of himself gorging messily through a banquet of plates. Every time staining that image there was of himself, spotless and shiny. Making a pigsty of himself with stained cheeks and double chin, whipping his fingers in his shirt. Gorging like a starved animal even when there's nobody to see.

But Jungkook was there to see this time. Witness this hog in all his glory. Smiling to himself when he decided to try to move Jimin's plate away form him as the fat man reached for it.

"Where are your manners, Jiminssi?" He smiles as his hyung pouts at him. "I don't think you could eat slowly even if you tried." He says with a smile. Fingers delicately reaching for the chicken wing. Loving the way Jimin's eyes follow it dumbly. "You want it, hog?" His voice turns sweet and condescending. But Jimin nods urgently, like his fate depended on Jungkook's mercy.

He never noticed Jimin got into such a headspace when eating. A discovery he was going to use in Jimin's favor. Smile softening when he leans closer. "Say ahh." Jimin obliges easily, but still Jungkook makes sure to bring the wing to his lips as slow as humanly possible. Seeing the urgency in his eyes, the pathetic whine that leaves his voice. Earning a chuckle out of Jungkook as he succumbs and starts properly feeding his hyung.

Keeping his pace slow, making Jimin whiny and desperate as his hands settle on his belly. Helplessly giving in to Jungkook's feeding. "Look at yourself." He whispered. "Need someone to hold you back form gorging like an animal." Even if he is slow he makes sure his bites fill out Jimin's cheeks, making him breathe heavily and unable to respond to Jungkook's teasing. "Too dumb to stop me." He whispers, the hand that's not feeding Jimin cupping his cheek, loving how his big eyes follow Jungkook. "Aren't you, pretty?"

It was evident, the way Jimin became more worked up, not from the hunger or the desperation to eat, but the arousal. Making his hips hump pathetically as he overspilled from the chair, letting it creak out. Looking for friction in his fupa and overhang before Jungkook could hold his hip in place. They're gonna do things at his pace now. Make sure Jimin's headspace has a slow delicious build up. Jungkook take care of him.

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And while Jungkook feels good taking care of all his hyungs. It didn't take long until they noticed no one was taking care of their youngest too.

It was a Sunday, funnily enough after a week of his services. Being sort of interrogated by his hyungs all at once. What does he like in bed? What are his preference? Niches in the kink? A bit startled he rather say.

"Wait, where is this coming from?" He giggled confused.

"You've been making sure to get to know each of our preferences so well..." Hoseok smiled gently. "We are all ears." He felt his cheeks begin to warm up. Biting his lip as he began to explain, becoming shyer and shyer as his hyungs' smiles widen.

That's how he found himself here. Yoongi pinning him down as his fat fingers prodded him open ass up and pressed flat against the bed. Struggling to breathe so much under the weight he was becoming lightheaded. Only friction on his dick being the weight of his own body mixed with Yoongi's. He felt his orgasm approaching, the unbelievable heat and sweat of his body making everything confusing and hazy. All he feels is heat, stinging stretch and painful scratchy friction against the covers. His breathy moans must give him away, because Yoongi is pulling out his fingers and grunting as he lifts himself from Jungkook's back. "O-Okay, who else?"

The sudden lift of weight, makes him gasp for air, suddenly chilly and wet and desperate. His head swimming in the after shock as his dick hangs pathetically between his legs. "W-w-what?" The rumbling and creaking behind him goes unnoticed, eyes glossy and his vision blurry as he looks around. Before being suddenly pressed again to the bed.

"You're not going anywhere." Seokjin's plump lips brush against his ear. Jungkook whimpering helplessly as he feels the tip of the older's cock tease at his ass. Struggling under the weight as he tried to press further against Seokjin's bulge. But he is caged in, rendered useless at their mercy.

He could get used to this weekly routine.

[omanu]

.

[purpleseven-7]

and how about yoongi headcanons? 😔 miss him sm...ty

Yoongi Headcannons

— Yoongi gives off the ‘cold to everyone but you’ vibe.

— In public he’s HELLA protective.

— Like Namjoon, you don’t leave his sight

— His favorite time to spend together is when he gets home from work and he gets to just lay on top of you and relax

— His lock screen is a picture of you laying on the couch asleep with Holly

— It took FOREVER for him to admit he liked you.

— It was a slow burn relationship, I almost feel like you were only supposed to be a one night stand turned into his soulmate

— He gets extremely jealous if you have friends that are guys, he won’t ever stop you from seeing them but he still doesn’t like it

— He’s not good at showing emotions so instead he shows his love through acts of service

— making dinner, doing laundry, helping clean the house, keeping your favorite snacks stocked (just simple things)

— Will NOT tolerate disrespect towards you. Just a glare typically shuts whoever it is up cause his looks are just…deadly

— He doesn’t really talk about you much since he enjoys keeping your relationship private, not secret.

— Makes sure you approve of his music before anyone else.

— Loves seeing your reaction to his songs and watching you sing along.

— When you both argue he just gives the silent treatment until he’s calmed down

— Dates are a weekly thing, even if he isn’t home he will facetime and force you to eat dinner with him on the phone so it’s like a date.

— Controlling but like…in a good way?

— Doesn’t let you wear revealing clothes if he isn’t with you, won’t let you eat sweets before dinner, no drinking unless he’s there (just simple stuff to make sure you’re safe and healthy)

— ADORES seeing you just let him take control and let yourself just…be.

— His favorite cuddling position is you on your back and him on top like a child.

— Sometimes he will sleep with his head literally under your shirt.

— His future now revolves around you both. When he plans something he plans you to be there, you’re his everything.

[leclucklerc]

Roses and Peonies CL16 - Oneshot

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader

Summary: When it was announced that bts will do their military service soon, y/n was scared to be left alone. She's scared that the world that she had known before will change, leaving her drowning in her loneliness. That is until she met a man with warm green eyes and dimpled smile.

Words: 14.2k

Masterlist

It was a beautiful scene. More beautiful that anything that she had ever seen before. 

Of thousands of stars like lights flashing around them. Of the adoring cheers and devotions that’s being thrown towards their way.

Of the love, that they could fell reverberating all across the stadium.

Y/n thinks that she wants to live like this forever. To savor this moment and make sure that it will last until the end of time. Of these beautiful lights and firework. Of these adoring chants and confession of devotions. Of this very moment.

She doesn’t want to forget it.

She wants to make this last.

And then, everything stopped.

.

Honestly, when it was decided that the boys are going to do their mandatory military service, y/n found herself a bit at a loss.

Her family knows it. The members know it. Heck, even the company knows it.

It makes sense after all. She had dedicated more than ten years of her life for the band. All of her youth and early twenties had been solely focused on bts and bts only. To make sure that the band stays together. To make sure, that the band will keep becoming bigger and bigger. Reaching new heights together.

Y/n didn’t regret it. How could she?

After all, those ten years were the highlight of her life. All the bitter memories from her trainee days became something fond to look back to. All of the sweat and tears that she had shed during her days as bts became rows of achievements and beautiful memories. It was amazing, the most beautiful moments of her life.

It almost made her forget that everything in this world will come to an end. The laughs that they shared, the group hugs, as well as the cheers from their fans. A bittersweet feeling always swells up inside of her chest at the mere thought.

Life as a celebrity will only treat you good when you’re still young. That statement is even more true in the idol industry where youth and visuals reign supreme over anything. Even bts – with all of their achievements, all of the things that they had contributed to South Korea – will became the victim of this statement sooner or later. 

Yoongi-oppa had always said that he doesn’t want them to crash landed when they’re at the top. He wants them to land slowly but surely. A safe landing point that marks the end of their career as a musician in the future.

(It’s terrifying. Y/n is scared.)

She knows that there’s nothing forever in this world. And yet, when she realized that the members will be doing their military service soon – leaving y/n alone – she finds herself to be at lost.

“Maybe it’s time for you to find a boyfriend,” said Namjoon-oppa, leaning back on the sofa in front of her. There’s beers and other alcoholic drinks in front of them. She thinks they’re already drunk at this point, but trust Namjoon-oppa to still be able to give her advice despite his own state of drunkenness.

Y/n laughed. “You’re crazy,” she said, nestling his head on one of the many pillows located in the older’s studio. “Dating scandal is a death sentence.”

“We’re already in our 10th year,” shrugged the male. “It would be inhumane if we never experience the joys of love.”

The female fell silent at that. 

She knows that the other members had their own fair share of love story. Discreet ones that they had never dare to publicized. After all, a dating scandal is something major in the South Korean entertainment industry. You can end your career just for falling in love. Even bts, the biggest Asian act that had ever came out in the past decade, is not an exception to that fact. A harsh reality for them who is part of this toxic cycle.

To y/n, she had avoided it like it’s a plague. Her presence in bts had been controversial enough. She doesn’t want people to say that she’s fucking the members – people who are like her own siblings – behind the scenes. There are already enough talks about that. If she ever gets caught up in a dating scandal?

It will not only be the end of her career. But also, bts.

Though, listening Namjoon-oppa tonight, it really seems as if it’s a good idea. She’s already entering her 10th year as an idol. She had many accomplishments, making South Korea proud and breaking records with every release. 

Maybe, just maybe, falling in love with someone is not a death sentence.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for her to learn to live like a human and not the entertainment industry doll.

“Do you really think that that’s a good idea?” she asked after a moment of silence. “I don’t want to inconvenience you or the other members…”

Namjoon-oppa actually let out a laugh at that. “All of us had dated anyone before,” he said, taking a gulp from the alcohol on his glass. “Is that an inconvenience to you?”

“No,” she replied almost immediately, mind recalling all the people that had come and go over the years. Some are celebrities some are not. 

“See?” said the male. “The same thing will also be applied to us.”

Y/n nodded, nursing the glass that she’s holding. She’s still a bit hesitant. Finding love had never been her priority, considering how busy she was. And to make finding love a goal during the band hiatus? Doesn’t it seem to be a bit too shallow?

The other members are preparing their solo album while here she is contemplating if she should date someone or not.

She can already see the media headlines.

Namjoon-oppa seems to have sensed her hesitancy because he decided to speak up again. “I know how you get when you’re feeling lonely, I’m just scared that when all of us leave for military… you won’t have your support system anymore.”

Ouch. 

Though, isn’t that the truth?

Maybe it’s because for more than ten years, she had grown up with people around her. Her close siblings – even though they didn’t share a drop of blood – that had always been there for her. Her personal emotional babysitter. The people that she can always count on.

It seems a bit pathetic that her state of mental wellbeing is relying on 100% to these seven men. But these seven men are her best friends. The people that she’s closest to. Her soulmates.

Her soulmates, that’s going away for months.

“Maybe,” she finally said. “Maybe I will consider it.”

Namjoon-oppa let out a laugh at that. 

.

Y/n l/n debuted under Bighit entertainment when she was 15, going 16.

A wide-eyed half foreign girl in the midst of the glitz and glamor of the kpop industry. A wide eyed and naïve girl being thrusted straight into fake Versace and the harsh entertainment industry without much of a preparation.

To be fair though, y/n thinks that no one can prepare enough things before they debuted.

It was a controversial debut back then. Still is even compared to today’s standard. For a girl to debut in a co-ed group where the remaining members are boys her age. Some had called it inhumane; some had called it insane; some had called it feeding off the female or even the male fantasy.

Even now, critics would always say that bighit is the only company to be ballsy and desperate enough to do that kind of thing. The company that was going bankrupt in 2013 and bet everything that they had to a controversial co-ed group without a clear future.

There are many nasty things being thrown around here and there back then. Insults to degrading remarks. Things that can make any newly debuted group to regret to ever stepped into the entertainment industry. 

Bts initial concept too, didn’t help. Wannabe rappers, fake k-hiphop, weird band name, from the tamest insult to the most vicious ones, they had been called by it.

To y/n though, she would call it family.

After all, bts is the only thing that she could call as normalcy in her life. After her family moved from Italy to South Korea – the country where her mother comes from – she was immediately whisked into the grueling trainee life. She was never good at school to start with, making her job as a trainee her only focus.

It was then when she entered bighit entertainment, a small entertainment company. It was also then, that her life changed when she was being put into the debut lineup almost immediately.

Her life had always been consisted of bts and the members. The first thing that appeared inside of her mind when she starts her day is bts and the last thing that appeared inside of her mind before she went to sleep is bts. Always bts.

Many – even the members – had praised her dedication for the group. Saying that it’s good for her to consider the group as something so important that she puts it on top of her priority list. Y/n could agree on that. After all, she knows nothing but bts in her life. The group itself made her life to have a meaning. It made her to develop a sense of purpose in this world.

To make music.

To make music that can help people.

To make music, that people can lean on to during their hardest time. 

Well, who would’ve thought that bts would become the world biggest group?

Certainly not her.

When bts took off internationally, it had been an almost surreal experience to them. After all, all they want is to win in a fucking Music Bank. Who would've thought that just two years after their first win, they would perform in the VMAs. Who would've thought that they're going to win billboard awards left and right?

And that had only been the start.

Stadium tours, multiple number one albums, multiple number one songs, the most famous people in the world.

Maybe that's why love had never been her priority. Besides the dating scandal thing, she had been way too busy for the past few years. She could barely saw her family, let alone thinking to start a relationship.

It was to the point that y/n genuinely thought that maybe love is just not for her.

That love, is not something that she can attain in this lifetime.

.

The meeting room is almost empty. Way emptier than usual.

Y/n sat there, legs crossed on top of the chair as she stared at her PR manager and manager going through some papers. She could hear some of the interns on the background, murmuring about something with hushed breath.

“Despite the band hiatus,” started her manager. “We’re going to start a lot of solo activity, especially for you.”

She ignored the weird feeling that appeared inside of her chest when she imagined doing her job alone. She ignored the emptiness that spread inside of her as she realized that there will be no more boisterous laughter and weird antics happening on the background.

She ignored the fear that appeared inside of her at the mere thought of being alone.

She ignored all of that as she nodded her head. “Yes,” said the female. “I understand.”

.

At the start of December, she went to Paris.

It’s her first solo schedule. The company told her that she’s going there to shoot promotions and campaigns for Prada. It’s a big deal, as she was set to become their newest global ambassador. After the announcement of their hiatus, many brands had contacted her, offering her the position of global ambassador.

She guesses it was for the fact that she’s not tied exclusively with bts anymore. That in order to sign her, the brands don’t have to sign the band anymore. 

Bitter, she thought as she read the contract over and over. There’s an odd feeling that rose up inside of her chest as she stared at her name. Only her name and devoid of the other members.

Kim Namjoon

Kim Seokjin

Min Yoongi

Jung Hoseok

Park Jimin

Kim Taehyung

Y/n L/n

Jeon Jungkook

Only her name. 

She signed it, heart aching inside her chest.

There’s not much going on over the signing of the contract and the shoots itself. She was told on things that she must do and what not. The clothes that she should be wearing during her promotions, as well as the events that she must attend during her stay in Paris.

The event that she’s attending tonight is one of them.

It’s a charity ball meant for the wealthy and famous. The event itself was held to raise money to help the art and sport sector, a good goal if the money will actually be given to struggling artist and athletes, not those who comes from privilege.

But she can’t comment on that.

“A lot of executives will be there,” informed her manager as he draped a jacked over her bare shoulder when they exit their hotel. Flashes of camera immediately appeared as yells and screams could be heard all around them. “Directors, CEOs, star athletes.”

Y/n let out a hum at that, processing that information internally.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the five-star hotel where the event is being held. And as expected, there are so many rich and famous people in the venue. People that y/n had worked with the previous years, people that is working with her, to the people that wants to work with y/n in the future. 

“I saw your billboard near the Louvre, it was phenomenal!”

“I heard that your band is breaking up? If you’re interested my next movie-“

“The met gala is happening in May and-“

She was far too exhausted to plaster a genuine smile. The jet lag catching up to her and all the pent up stress that she had harbor for the past few weeks continue to pile inside of her. So many faces and so many names to remember, it made her dizzy for a bit.

Maybe that what guides her to the bar, desperately searching for a bit of an alone time during the hustle and bustle of the party. She didn’t even remember how many designers and actors had given her their personal contact. No doubt salivating at the thought of finally having y/n l/n work for them, not as a group. But individually.

Manicured nails tapped the bar softly as she watched the bartender made her order. From the corner of her eyes, she could see other people eyeing her, no doubt wanting to make conversation. 

She really should get going from here before-

“Rough night?” asked a voice besides her.

Ah, too late. 

Turning her head, her eyes met warm green ones. A man, maybe around her age, with dark hair and dimpled smile was staring at her. He’s wearing a suit, a clear indicator that he’s also part of the exclusive guest list.

Handsome, thought y/n idly, eyeing the man in front of her. He certainly fit the conventional standard of beauty for men from his large eyes to charming smile. But she’s standing in a room full of celebrities. Everyone is good looking here.

“You can say that” she said, smiling a bit to hide her uneasiness. “I was just a bit overwhelmed.”

The guy laughed at that. “I can certainly relate to that,” he said. She realized there’s a hint of accent on his English.

“Oh, you’re French?” asked the female after realizing.

“Monegasque actually.”

Y/n hummed. “I never met a Monegasque before.”

“Well, there’s not a lot of us around,” he answered cheekily. The bartender appeared, giving her, her drink. “So, what brings you here tonight?”

It was such a cliché line that she almost snorted. There’s no reason to ask what brings her here tonight because it’s the same reason why the guy is even here. It’s obvious that they were invited to this gala in order to make this charity event look more glamorous. To paint them in a better light as someone who likes to donate and gives back to the poor.

“The same reason as you?” said y/n, leaning forward towards the bar. “Trying to find someone who is alone at the bar and flirt with them?” It was supposed to be a sarcastic reason, a sign for the male that she’s not interested.

Though, instead of being offended, he took it as a good humor as another round of laugh erupted from him. “Am I? flirting with you?” he said, tilting his head.

The female stared at him, blinking. “Are you not?” she asked as if she was stating the obvious.

“Well, I am,” he said with a grin. She can’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at that, giving the warm green orbs a more welcoming look. “You have a nice set of eyes; do you know that? I can probably get lost in them.”

That flirting is way too corny and old school that she can’t help the loud laugh that she lets out. The uneasiness that had bubbled on her chest dissipated almost immediately. If her manager is around her, she will probably scold her for that ungraceful manner. “Seriously?” she asked. “Are we playing that kind of game right now?”

“Can’t we?” asked the guy. “It’s fun.”

“Mhm, whatever you say Mr. Casanova,” she said with a hum, heart light. “Don’t you think you should buy me another drink then?”

He shrugged, “I certainly can,” started the guy. “But I don’t want you to drink too much.”

“Why?”

“So that you can remember this conversation and tell your friends that you met an unforgettable guy during this event.”

The laugh that she lets out is more genuine than anything that she had done ever since her arrival at the charity gala. The guy seems to realize this as he too, joined on her laugh.

“I know, it’s bad,” he said. “I’m not the best at flirting.”

“Really?” said y/n. “I would’ve thought otherwise.”

He grinned before thrusting his hand towards her. “Should we start over?” said the male. “My name is Charles.”

She noted the lack of last name. Good. “Y/n,” said the female as she shook his hand. “Pleasure.”

It is a pleasure, because before she knew it, the both of them fell into a deep conversation about music.

Charles seems to be an artist himself, or maybe a huge music fan. He talked about the latest releases to the old ones. The male talked about his co-worker who had a deep love for the 90s rock to his own taste of classical music, even confessing that he had attended numerous concert about it.

Y/n too, talked about music. She talked about how high quality the latest release had been. How there seems to be some kind of trend in the music industry lately. How there seems to be a newer and more talented singer each passing day.

It surprised her a bit, that Charles is a good talker and listener. He seems genuinely interested at what she’s saying, As if she’s not talking about the nerdy side of the music industry. As if she’s not mostly rambling about herself.

The male asked intriguing questions, humming at the appropriate times, and even broaden the subject with his own knowledge.

She didn’t know how long they talked, maybe hours, because the moment she realized that they had been talking too long was the moment when her phone buzzed as a text from her manager appeared.

Ah, thought the female, glancing at the watch that Charles is wearing. I have to go back soon.

There’s a sense of disappointment that appeared inside of her chest when she realized that it was the end of their conversation.

Charles seems to realize her disappointment because he immediately raised his eyebrows, “Something wrong?” he asked, tone full of worry.

“No,” she replied, taking her handbag. “I just realized that I have to go back soon.”

The male probably thought it was weird considering that the gala is going on full swing without a sign of stopping, but well, she has a strict schedule. She has to go to an early photoshoot tomorrow. 

“Let me walk you out then,” said Charles as he straightened up, offering his hand.

Y/n stared at the offering hand, pondering about her decision for a bit before she curled her arm around it. “Okay then.”

The walk towards the exit took longer than expected because there are a lot of people that went to greet them. Designers, directors, fellow musicians. On Charles side, she too recognized a lot of people went to greet him. Though she doesn’t know any of them.

He probably doesn’t work in the entertainment industry then, thought the female.

“Should I drive you back to your hotel?” asked Charles as the both of them exited the ballroom where the charity gala was hosted. It was quiet, a far cry from the loud music and the chatters that had surrounded them previously.

Thinking about the offer, she shook her head, “No,” she replied. “My friend will pick me up.” It’s her manager.

At that, the male look disappointed.

It was at that moment, y/n made a choice that changed the course of her life. She doesn’t know what made her do it. Maybe it’s the pouty look that Charles is giving her or maybe it’s just her lonely self craving for love.

She doesn’t know the exact reason was but-

Inside of her purse, y/n rejected the call from her manager.

“You know what,” started the female. “I really enjoy talking to you.”

“Me too,” replied Charles.

“I heard there’s… a really good place to eat late night snacks around here,” she continues. “Do you want to go there?”

It’s blinding. Charles smile is blinding.

.

They ended up eating a late-night snack that night. It ruined her diet and Charles also confessed that this ruined his own diet too.

Though, the both of them doesn’t seems to care, too engrossed with each other.

Charles continues to give her bad flirting attempts and she too, replied with her own version of flirtation. It was fun. It made her felt a bit free. 

She could feel her phone continue to buzz throughout their late night escapades – certainly from her manager – and y/n decided to ignore it. If she had thought that Charles looks handsome under the dim lighting that the charity event provided, under a proper lighting he looks stunning.

Charles had denied being in the entertainment industry and y/n signed in shame. He could certainly make good money with a face like that.

When the night was ending, she lets Charles to drive her back to her hotel.

They arrived through the back door, a far more discreet entrance where no paparazzi and fans can enter. 

“Thank you for tonight,” she said as the male opened the car door for her. “I really enjoy it.”

“I should be the one saying that,” replied Charles with a large grin.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of them, as if they doesn’t know what to say. Should she say see you later? Or is this a one time thing?

It would be a shame if this is a one time thing. It’s been awhile since she enjoys her night like this. The silence was broken when the male decided to speak up.

“Tomorrow,” started the male, staring directly towards her. “Do you have any plan for dinner?”

Y/n immediately ransacked her brain for tomorrow’s schedule.

“No,” she said. “I’m free for dinner.”

And at that, he reached out for her hand. Y/n didn’t flinch, completely lowering her guard for this man before her. He brought it towards his lips, giving it a small kiss.

“Then,” said the male, smiling. “Have a dinner with me?”

Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.

Thumpthumpthumpthump-

“Yes,” she answered, large grin overtaking her face. “I would love to.”

.

They went on a dinner the next day, in a small quaint restaurant that’s overlooking the Eiffel tower. If y/n was not charmed by that gesture, she would’ve called it cliché, but fuck it. She was definitely charmed by the dinner that they had.

Maybe it’s because of the small gesture that Charles did – opening the car door, holding the door for her, asking what her favorites are. Maybe it’s because the food they’re eating was just good. Maybe it’s because she’s just weak for a candle lit dinner in Paris. 

She really doesn’t know what’s the reason. All she knows is that she didn’t stop smiling throughout the night.

It’s a bit weird but talking with Charles was unexpectedly easy. She found out that he can speaks Italian fluently, making them converse in Italian all night long. He said it was because of his job, making him need to stay in Italy for some part of the year. They talked about various topics. Like their hobbies where she found out that he can play the piano and from what he claimed, he can play it really well.

“You sure about that?” she had teased him. “I also can play the piano really well.”

Charles had laughed at that. “Should we have a piano battle then?”

They talked about their life,

“I was born and raised in Monaco,” said the male. “Though I have to travel a lot because of my job.”

“I was born in Italy,” said y/n. “My family moved to South Korea when I was in elementary school.”

Talked about their favorite food,

“Caprese salad,” he said as he nudged the salad in front of her. “It’s my favorite.”

“I never really liked cucumber,” said the female, grinning a bit stupidly. “Much prefer tomato over it.”

Talked about their favorite things,

"I like flowers, especially peonies," she had said, remembering the peonies that her dad would gave her mom almost weekly. "I will probably become a florist in my next life."

He hummed. "I will probably be a... mechanic?"

Talked about their family,

“I’m an only child,” said y/n. “Though I do have close friends that I thought of as my brothers.”

“Really?” asked Charles. “How long have you guys been friends?”

She pondered a bit. “More or less 10 years maybe? Or eleven and twelve?” 

He chuckled. “I also have friends that I know since primary school,” said the male. “The eight of us.”

“But do you have any siblings?”

“I do have an older and younger brother.”

They talked about everything and yet nothing.

Y/n soon realized that the both of them are avoiding certain topics. Like what their jobs are or topics that could probably disclose more of their identity. Oddly, she found herself really liking it.

She doesn’t even know Charles’s last name. She knows almost everything about him but his identity. She doesn’t know anything about the man that’s laughing and sharing dinner with her tonight.

And yet, she doesn’t seem to mind.

This sense of anonymity gave her a safe blanket. It seems a bit fucked up, but she finds the fact that they’re both not disclosing their identity to each other is a good thing. Maybe it’s the wariness, or how she already got used to not trust people easily.

All she knows is that she likes this. This easy conversation and banter that they share with each other.

If she had thought that the dinner was charming, the stroll that they did around Paris that night is more than charming. There’s just something a bit special to walking around the city of love late at night, laughing and talking with someone that you find attractive.

Charles is really playful, always trying to make her giggle throughout the walk. He would ask her to do a failed rendition of a ballroom dance under a streetlight, or he would tell her about the odd history or even his own funny experiences during his previous trips to Paris.

It’s been a while since she laughed that hard.

That one dinner turned into another and another. It’s been three days since they had dinner together every day.

Y/n found herself surprised at that. After all, she’s used to always not let anyone get too close to her. Too used to guarding her heart too tightly, not letting anyone in easily.

Charles though.

Charles with warm green eyes and dimpled smile.

Charles who had talked about his home in Monaco with a too wide smile and sparkling eyes.

Charles who had told her about his travels all around the world – regaling tales about the many cuisines and cultures that he had experienced.

Charles who had looked at her with so much warmth and made her laugh every night.

It made her want to belief. To believe that the warmth that Charles gave her is true. That all the kindness and loving words that he had directed towards her during these past few days is true. That all of this is not a ploy to just get into her pants or a ploy to leech off her fame.

Maybe it’s okay to open her heart up for a bit. To let this giddy like feeling to consume her as she forgets about all the repercussion this small rendezvous can impact her.

To let herself enjoy the wonders of love for the first time.

Please, she had thought as they once again stroll around Paris late at night. If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.

“Hey,” she called out, catching his attention. “I was wondering.”

“Hm?” hummed the male as he kissed their interlocked hands. “What is it, chérie?” 

Looking around, y/n turned towards the male. “I was wondering how you even knew so many streets with so few people?” she asked. “Like I’ve been wondering how we even avoided meeting so many people during our stroll?”

She had thought walking around in Paris a bit risky. There are far too many people that knew her and far too many paparazzi dying to know an inside scoop about her personal life. Though, oddly, these past few days, they hardly met any people during their walk. 

The female had been suspicious at first, glancing at Charles with doubts on her face. Though, the male acted as if there’s nothing wrong. It seems, the male knew the reason.

Charles fell silent at that. 

Y/n thought that she had hit a landmine. That her question is something a bit too personal to him. Immediately, she backtracked. “I mean-!” she started. “I mean if you don’t want to answer is okay! Like I’m pretty sure you’re not a serial killer or anything because you haven’t killed me these past few days- I’m not calling you a killer though!”

The male stared at her; amusement clear on his eyes as she continues to fumble around.

“What I want to say is,” she finally said, stressing out the word. “If you don’t want to answer it’s okay.”

Charles let out a laugh at that, almost making her stumble with how violent his shoulder shook. “Ah, I can’t believe the girl that I had flirted with – heavily I must add – for the past few days really thinks I’m a serial killer.”

“I’m not saying that!” hissed out y/n, pouting a bit. “Did you miss the bit when I said I’m pretty sure that you’re not a serial killer?”

“No, no, no, I heard that alright,” he said, grinning as one of his hands pulled her cheek a bit. “Mignonne.” Cute.

“Stop doing that!”

Charles didn’t stop and his grin merely getting wider. “I’m glad though,” he said as he untangled their hands so that now both of his hands are now pinching her cheeks. “That we established the fact that I’m not a killer.”

Y/n glared at him, hands flying up to hold the hands that’s on her cheek. “Whatever,” she said. “Forget that I even asked.”

The asshole let out a louder laugh at that. “Don’t pout,” he said as he tugged her lips upward. “It’s not a good look on your pretty face, chérie.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “I still look pretty,”

“True.”

“Okay! Don’t distract me with your flirting,” said y/n, huffing. “Are you going to answer my question or not? Because it’s perfectly fine if you don’t.”

“Well,” started the male, still cradling her face as his thumb brushed the apple of her cheek. “I have a… good answer to that.”

“Really?” asked y/n as she released the man’s hands from her cheek, holding it together with her hand as she looked up to him. “You want to tell me?”

He looks a bit hesitant at that. As if he’s debating something inside of his head. She didn’t know what kind of internal mental turmoil that he’s having with himself, though by the end of it, he looks more determined than before.

“I guess you can say it’s because of my job?” said Charles, tilting his head a bit. “I… tend to get recognized a lot.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that. “So… you’re famous?”

“In a certain circle, kind of?”

“Huh,” said the female, processing the information a bit. They got that in common then. She’s also famous in certain circles. “And are you comfortable enough to tell me what your job is?”

Charles bit his lips. “I’m… you know, Charles Leclerc.”

Y/n blinked.

“Charles Leclerc?” she repeated, and he nodded. “Leclerc? Is that your family name?”

The male stared at her. “You don’t know me?”

“… Should i?”

“No, no, obviously,” interjected Charles with a small laugh, hand waving around. “It’s just that you went into that charity ball and all, so I thought you will be familiar with my name.”

She tried to remember the event that they both had attended a few days ago. The charity ball that was meant for the art and sports industry.

Charles, obviously, is not from the entertainment industry. Or he could be? Like a producer or director maybe? Y/n is not that familiar with the acting side of the entertainment industry after all. 

Or he could be from the sports industry. Looking at his body- yeah. Athlete.

“Ah,” said the female. “You’re an athlete?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Some would say that I’m not, but I like to think that I am an athlète.”

Oh.

“That’s why I didn’t recognize you,” she said, wonder clear on her eyes. “I’m not really that familiar with athletes – sorry – except the ones that’s representing my country and stuff… or like the popular ones like Messi or Ronaldo-“

“Are you telling me I’m not popular?” teased the male. 

“That’s not the point,” she huffed out with a frown and Charles laughed at that. “And I know you must be a popular athlete, you said it yourself,” continue the female. “A bit narcistic but okay.”

“It’s good to have confidence in my line of work.”

Y/n pondered a bit. Should she? It felt a bit unfair to Charles if y/n didn’t say anything about her. He trusted her enough to tell her about his identity after all.

Does she trust Charles though?

She should be terrified how fast a ‘yes’ appeared inside of her mind.

Will he change? will the sweet Charles that she had known these past few days will be gone when he realized who she is. How famous she is. How beneficial it will be for him to continue this... relationship with her.

Again, she should be terrified how fast a 'no' appeared inside of her mind. As if she had trusted this man in front of her her whole life.

“Me too, I guess,” said the female after a while. 

“What?” he asked, humor evident on his tone. “Are you also famous?”

“In certain circles, kind of?” she said, repeating his words from before.

Charles let out a huff of laugh before he grabbed her hands and practically dragged her to one of the benches near them. From here, they’re overlooking the Seine River and she could even see the Eiffel tower in the distance. A bit cliché, but at the same time, y/n loves it a bit too much.

“Should I start?” asked the male, fiddling with her hand. “On confessing about our deepest and darkest secret.”

She giggled. “Sure Romeo, you can start.”

“I’m a driver, racing driver,” he said.

And oh, that’s not bad. Y/n was expecting something much worse. Like a sport that she’s not completely familiar with or know even exist. “In what? Nascar?”

“Formula One, I drive for Ferrari.”

Y/n may have never any interest in racing, but she knows Ferrari. Her father is a big fan of Ferrari when she was little and from what she knows, had followed it almost religiously. She also knows that Formula One is practically the biggest and the most famous racing category right now. To drive for Ferrari in Formula One-

“You’re not lying when you said you were famous,” she said instead.

“Glad that we established that,” he said, amused. “What about you?”

“I’m… a singer, you can say,” she started. “Or an Idol, if you want to use the proper term.”

Charles scrunched his eyebrows. “Idol?”

“You know Kpop?”

“Ah,”

There’s silence between the two of them after that. Charles still playing with her hand and y/n still leaning her weight on his shoulder.

“Does this change anything?” she asked.

“No,” replied Charles almost immediately. “No, it doesn’t.”

She let out a breath that she didn’t even knew she was holding. “Good,” she said. “I like this.”

Charles released her hand before he curled his hand around her shoulder. “Me too,” he said.

.

The predestined one, that’s what they’re calling Charles.

The one that will bring back the championship to Ferrari.

The one that was destined to bring back the glory to Ferrari. 

The sea of red and the Ferrari flags waving with the wind as he passed the checkered flag in Monza. The chants, of him bringing back the championship, that people screamed on top of their lungs every time the male appeared. 

It was fascinating to see the extent of Charles’s popularity. When the male said that he was famous in certain circles, he was really humbling himself down. Because she knows, she knows when someone gave you this kind of devotion, this kind of love, it means that their love for you is more than genuine.

She doesn’t know how many videos of Charles she had watched that night. From his amazing start in 2022 season until his final standings. From his recent races to some fan’s compilation about the male over the years. Hours must have passed because the next thing she knows it’s already bright out there.

Her manager seems to realize her lack of sleep because he had ordered the makeup artist to add an extra concealer for the spot under her eyes. Though, the older didn’t probed more regarding the reason.

Y/n thinks that her manager can already guess the reason. 

“Do you enjoy your late-night rendezvous?” asked the older man.

Looking up from her phone, she raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a problem, right?” asked y/n.

The older male shook his head. “It’s not, as long as you’re being discreet for the time being,” said the male. “We can talk again if you ever want to make your… relationship… public.”

A public relationship. What a terrifying thought.

“We’re still in the talking stage, nothing that serious,” said the female. 

“It is if your partner is Charles Leclerc,” replied her manager. She could see he’s staring at Charles’s Instagram page. “Formula One may not be that big in Korea, but it’s huge all around the world.”

She knows that. She knows how loved Charles is by the people. 

A sea of red. Of Ferrari’s flag waving with the wind. Of screams full of devotion and reverence.

She knows.

“I know,” said y/n, leaning back on her seat. “I’ll talk to you and the company later if our relationship became more… serious.”

“Good,” said the older with a nod. “Now should we review your schedule once again?”

.

Charles is holding a bouquet of roses when she met him that day.

“Ah,” she said, smiling. “For me?”

“Of course,” he grinned as he handed her the flowers. “I just realized I never gave you any flowers, decided to fix that.”

Y/n let out a giggle at that, holding the flowers close to her chest. “We met barely one week ago,” she said.

The male merely shrugged, “One week too late then?” he said. "I can't find any peonies, but I hope roses are a good replacement."

She’s not flustered. She’s not-

The heat radiating from her cheek tells otherwise.

They’re meeting during the day today. It felt a bit scandalous, considering all of their previous meeting had always been late at night.

Though, seeing Charles under the sun is a bit too tempting to missed out. 

The private room that they book had a balcony overlooking Champs-Élysées, a beautiful sight that took her breath away. Charles had told her that a friend of his had recommended this place to him, saying that it’s a good place to have a date as it served enough privacy for them.

Y/n’s heart beats a bit faster when the male casually mentioned that yes, this is a date.

“So, you’re going back tomorrow?” asked the male.

She nodded. “You too right?” asked y/n. “My flight is early in the morning, what about yours?”

“It’s at twelve,” he replied. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”

The female laughed at that. “I think I have too many luggage to fit in your Ferrari.”

“You can ask your manager to bring your luggage and I’ll drive you to the airport,” said Charles, as he reached out, intertwining their hands together. “I just thought… we don’t know when can we meet each other again.”

That’s true.

This situationship between the two of them, she doesn’t know if it will last after Paris. She doesn’t know if she can do a long distance… situationship… or if Charles even willing to do that. This date, could be the last date between the two of them.

She hates it.

She hates the mere thought of it.

“Hey,” started the female. “Do you want to continue this?”

Charles stared at her. “I do,” he answered. “What about you?”

“Me too.”

A smile bloomed on his face. “I’m glad,” he said. “I… was afraid that you doesn’t want to continue this… relationship.”

“I don’t know if this will work,” she started, holding his hand tighter. “I don’t even know how this will even work, honestly,” she said again. “We came from two different world, our job demands us to always travel around, and we don’t live in the same country but-“

She stopped.

She thinks, she will regret it forever if she left Charles here. 

She thinks, romance is not something for her if she doesn’t pursue this relationship.

“I would like to try,” finished the female. “I would love to try and see how this relationship will work.”

Y/n thinks a weight had been lifted from her shoulder as she said that. As if, an invisible baggage has been lifted.

The breathtaking smile that appeared on Charles face made her think that she had decided on the correct decision.

“Me too,” said the male. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

They laughed.

.

Charles did drive her to the airport the next day.

It was a blessing that she will be flying private, because the hug and the kiss that Charles gave to her forehead will surely be the headline of every tabloids if someone ever posted it.

.

Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could remember everything so vividly.

Of days that was spent on the road. Of the hours spent on an airplane as they flew all across the world. Stadiums to stadiums. From one continent to another. Of thousands of fans cheering their name, repeating words full of love and devotions.

She could always remember it. The big plan that they had prepared as a thank you gift for the fans before the boys will do their military service. Of the countless of hours and so much love that they had devoted in those plans. Something that is full of promise. Things, that can close the first chapter of their career with a bang.

But of course, fate, had never been on their side.

When the pandemic hits and the world went into lockdown, it also means the end of all of their plans. 

Y/n always regrets it. The way they close the first chapter of their career. She just felt that they didn’t gave the fans enough closure of preparations. That they didn’t give them enough devotion to repay back all of their love.

While it’s true they held a free concert for their fans – albeit a bit of a controversial one – she felt that it’s just not enough. They should’ve done more. They should’ve given them more promise that they will be back soon. That bts will not be disbanding and soon they will reunite once again as a group.

But alas, time continue to pass and so it the inevitable.

.

In the middle of December, Jin-oppa went into the military.

It was a cold day. She knows that the training will be harsh and cold. Jin-oppa doesn’t like the cold. She doesn’t like Jin-oppa leaving her like this. Y/n did try to not cry, she really did. But alas, the dam broke, and she went full on sobbing as she clutched the older male tightly.

The oldest member merely laughed, teasing her like usual as he patted her hair. As if he’s not going to leave her. As if, they’re in the middle of their normal banter and not in the middle of a military base.

“Be a good girl okay, n/n?” laughed the oldest member of bts. “Don’t be a brat with Jungkook and listen to the other members well.”

She let out a wet hiccup at that.

“Aigoo,” laughed Hobi-oppa as he slung an arm around her. “Our little n/n is crying because her brothers are going to the military?”

“All of you are so mean,” she grumbled, and she can already imagine the reaction from the fans when today’s Bangtanbomb will be released. “Leaving me all alone here.”

Jin-oppa smiled cheekily at that, grabbing her cheeks. “Don’t be dramatic y/n-ah,” he said with a large grin on his face. “You have other friends besides us, and we’ll still talk on our groupchat.”

“But it’s different from seeing you.”

It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa arriving at her house late at night with a bag full of fried chicken. It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa who always laughed and teased her during dance practice. It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa who always bugs her during vocal lessons, joking with that dry humor of his.

It’s different, because Jin-oppa is only the start.

(All of them will leave her soon.)

They parted soon after that, the members leaving Jin-oppa to say goodbye to his family. All of them continue to linger there, watching the older line up amidst other new recruits. She has to admit he looked good and comfortable there. It seems all the preparation that he did beforehand became useful.

As the entrance ceremony came to an end, they said goodbye to Jin-oppa’s family.

“Wanna eat something?” said Jimin-oppa as all of them walked towards the parking lot. “There’s a new restaurant in Gangnam that’s famous for their Japanese food.”

Y/n made a noncommittal noise at that as the other members agreed on that suggestion. Her eyes trained towards her phone.

Her heart did beat a bit faster than normal.

“Who are you texting?”

“No one,” replied y/n almost immediately, shutting off her phone as she directed her attention towards the other member who are staring at her. They had arrived at the Japanese restaurant a short while ago, immediately being ushered towards one of the private rooms. “Seriously.”

Jungkook, the one who asked the first question, quirked an eyebrow at that. “Really?” he probed further. “Because you were smiling dumbly.”

She hit his shoulder. “Rude,” she hissed out.

“Y/n met a guy in Paris,” informed Namjoon-oppa in a true traitorous manner as he casually looked up from his phone. As if he didn’t just betray her absolute trust towards him. “She’s been texting him nonstop since then.”

“Oppa-!” she screeched out.

“Oh?” said Taehyung-oppa, slinging an arm around her shoulder as a teasing glint appeared on his eyes. “Our little sister finally enjoying the beautiful world of romance?”

“Jungkook is younger than me! Stop treating me as if I’m the youngest!”

“But I’m more mature than you though?” piped up Jungkook.

“No no, let’s go back to our main topic,” interjected Jimin-oppa with a knowing grin on his face. “So, y/n finally met a guy? In Paris no less?”

Hobi-oppa laughed at that. “Sounds romantic,” he said, amusement clear on his tone. “Someone we know of?”

“No,” she said with a pout. “He’s not in the entertainment industry.”

The other members raised an eyebrow at that. “How did you even met then?” asked Yoongi-oppa, leaning forward towards the table. “He’s not someone sketchy right? I know this will be your first relationship but don’t meet someone that’s not good-“

“He’s a good guy! Really!” said the female, face red from embarrassment. She can’t believe she’s having this conversation right now. After all, she had only met Charles last week, it’s not like they’re going to get married soon or anything! “I know he didn’t approach me just to… you know, leech off of my fame.”

“And how do you know that?” asked Namjoon-oppa. All of them went quiet when the door to the private room was opened as the waiter gave them their orders. The leader of the group only continues when the waiter left the room. “I know I’m the one that’s encouraging you to get a boyfriend, but I also want you to meet a good guy.”

“He- he doesn’t know me,” said y/n, remembering the look on Charles’s face when they both revealed each other jobs. “Really. I also didn’t even know of him, or even his last name back then.”

Yoongi-oppa raised an eyebrow at that. “So, he’s someone famous?”

“Well, kinda? In certain circles?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” interjected Hobi-oppa. “Didn’t Namjoon told us that you spent the week hanging out with him in Paris?”

“Yes?”

“And back then you didn’t even know his last name?”

“… Yes?”

“Wow,” marveled Hobi-oppa. “It’s a wonder that you didn’t get killed.”

Jimin-oppa actually hits Hobi-oppa’s shoulder at that.

.

When they arrived back at the company, a red-faced secretary appeared in front of them.

“Y/n-sshi?” called out the woman, catching her attention.

Perking up, she gave her a small smile. “Yeah?” she said as her manager beckoned closer. She could see the rest of the members raising their eyebrows, also stopping on their track as they watched one half of their youngest member being called up. “Do you need something?”

“There’s a delivery for you,” said the woman. “It’s um-“

“Is it a fan gift?” asked her manager. “You know we’re not accepting fan gifts anymore.”

“No, no, no,” denied the woman with a frantic wave of her hands. “It’s a bit big but the managerial office did approve it! They said that it was given by y/n-sshi’s friend!”

And that made her raised an eyebrow. Her friend? She could count her friends with her hands. And knowing them, all of them are not the type of people that would send gifts to her office, and not her directly.

Though that train of thoughts stopped when another man appeared, holding the so-called gift.

It’s a bouquet. A large bouquet of peonies was being held by someone from the managerial office. It’s so big that it’s clear the man is struggling to hold the flower as he walked towards them. Y/n was thankful that they’re already in Bighit floor because she’s sure that her surprised face looked incredibly stupid.

Immediately, one thing came inside her mind.

Charles.

The conversation that they had during their dinner appeared inside of her head. Of her blabbering about her favorite things, peonies being one of them.

“It’s not even in season,” she breathed out, though she’s sure that there’s a large smile appearing on her face as she went to received the flowers. There’s a note in the middle of with English words being written on it. It says-

“Keep smiling for me, from Char, love emoji and a smiling face” reads out Namjoon-oppa as he appeared next to her, startling her. There’s a teasing smile on his face as he turned his attention to her. “Huh, this is actually really romantic.”

“Oppa!” she whined out, trying to hide the note from his prying eyes. “It’s rude to read it like that!”

“But we’re dying to know!” said Hobi-oppa as he slung an arm around her shoulder and peered towards the bouquet of peonies she’s holding. “Oh, so this is from your mysterious man?”

Y/n wants to die. She’s so embarrassed that she’s sure her face is flushed like a boiled seafood at this point.

“Char? Who is that?” asked Yoongi-oppa as he too approached them, staring at the flowers with a narrowed eyes. “The guy you’re seeing?”

“Char sounds like a foreigner name,” piped up Taehyung-oppa.

“It could be Kim Char,” said Jungkook, chiming in. 

“Kim Char sounds stupid,” interjected Jimin-oppa with a frown.

She really wants to hide in a hole as the other members began teasing her and the so-called Char.

Though, she really can’t deny the warm feeling that appeared inside of her chest. He knows that she’s really close with the members. He knows how important the members are to her. He knows, that if one of them are leaving, she will be incredibly sad.

It’s the small things. The small gestures that always made her heart beats uncontrollably. 

Doesn’t this mean that he also thinks about her? As much as how she’s always thinking about him? Doesn’t this mean that Charles wants to take their relationship a step further?

Warm smile and green eyes.

Dinners and late-night stroll in Paris.

Bouquet of roses and flushed faces.

Hands, intertwining together, and a conversation full of confessions.

This should scare her. This feeling that slowly started to bubble inside of her. This feeling that should not be subjected to a man that she had just met a few weeks ago. A man that should’ve been a stranger to her.

But romance always work in a mysterious way. 

Ah, she thought. Incredibly giddy. I really really like him.

Nearing the end of December, Charles invited her for a ski trip with his friends.

She accepted, of course. Despite all of her nervousness, all of her overthinking, she still decided that it’s a great idea to be there. After all, Charles asked her to come. He had invited her to have a glimpse of his world. To introduce her to his friends and letting her in inside of his social circle.

It was nerve wrecking, especially after the realization of her feelings. 

When she realized that she likes Charles – too much, too overwhelming – y/n almost went into a denial phase. After all, she had never felt something like this before. She had never allowed anyone to reach her heart this closely before. To realize that there’s someone in her heart-

It’s scary.

She doesn’t know what to do.

Both her and Charles still haven’t talked about their relationship. She knows that she really likes the male, and she knows that Charles probably also likes her. But they never talked about… whatever this was between the two of them.

This easy relationship between them. Where they both openly flirt with each other. Where Charles sent her flowers almost every day since they day they separated in Paris. This relationship where she felt comfortable to talked about everything and yet nothing to the male.

This relationship, where she decided to open her heart to a male with warm green eyes and large dimpled smile.

Maybe that’s why this trip seems important to her. She doesn’t want to lose this relationship after all. She doesn’t want his friends to not like her because they seem important to Charles. She wants them to see that both her and Charles are meant to be. 

Despite the sunny smile and the hug that she received from Charles as she landed in Monaco, one glance towards his group of friends made her want to hide in a ditch somewhere. Charles had talked about them. The group of friends that he had been friends since forever. Almost like how bangtan is to her. All of them are guys, though some did bring their significant others, promising her girls company during the trip. 

During that trip she met his younger brother for the first time, Arthur Leclerc. He’s three years younger than them with brown hair – lighter than his brother – and a huge smile. Just like Charles, he’s also a racing driver who is competing in the lower category right now.

“It’s good to finally meet the girl that my brother talked about nonstop,” was the greeting that Arthur gave her when they first met.

Y/n pretended that it doesn’t make her flustered. 

As time went by, she must admit that the trip was fun. Y/n’s nervousness about giving them a good first impression seems unfounded as all of them welcomed her with an open arm. Some of the girls even giggled and whispered to her that they’re a fan, surprising her greatly. A lot of them seems fascinated by her job, saying things that it’s not every day that they’ll see a kpop artist hanging out with them.

The trip itself seems like a good idea. They had played boardgames together, enjoying the snow, and other activities. Y/n found herself enjoying every minute of it. Until today that is.

“No,” she said, hand shivering – not from the cold for once. “Charles, seriously, I can’t do this.”

Charles let out a laugh, hands gripped her own gloved ones. “Believe in me, chérie,” he said, standing beside her. “It’s not that scary, look at Arthur.”

And of course, Arthur is in front of them, gliding through the snow easily.

“I never went skiing before!” she yelped, flinching back at the mere thought of having to go down the steep mountain with these thin pieces of wood. “I’ll seriously die!”

“No, you’re not,” said Charles with a laugh. “You’re too pretty to die, and I’ll guide you.”

“Are you a professional at skiing?”

“Well, no-“

“Then you don’t have the qualification!”

If possible, he only laughed harder. Somehow finding amusement in her own state of panic. She wants to call him an asshole, but at the same time, Charles is the only thing that’s making sure that she will not tumble forward into the thick snow in front of them.

“Just follow me, three, two-“

“No!”

Charles, who had inched forward, was immediately yanked back by y/n who had surged backwards in pure instinct. The male didn’t expect it, making them tumbled backwards into the heaps of snow.

They landed in a bit of an awkward position. With y/n sprawled across the snow and Charles being practically on top of her, hand caging the female to prevent him to stumbled down towards her. It was an awkward and uncomfortable position, and yet, they didn't made any move to get out from that position.

Both of their eyes met as they stared at each other. Breath mingling with each other.

There was silence between them, as they processed what had just happened. Though, it was soon broken when they both let out a snort and began laughing with each other.

“Hi,” whispered Charles, face so so close. “You, okay?”

She wants to kiss him, she realized as she stared at him. The male looked breathtaking. There is snow on his darker locks, clinging and hanging for dear life. His eyes crinkled from how large his smile is.

Her hand grabbed the side of his face, almost unconsciously. Charles seems a bit surprised at that, though it didn’t take long for him to nuzzle on her gloved hand before giving her palm a kiss.

Thump, her heart beats once. Twice. 

Thumpthumpthump-

“Yeah,” she breathed out. “Doesn’t mean I’ll try skiing again though.”

It was also during that ski trip that she asked Charles what they are.

Maybe it was because what happened earlier. Maybe it’s just her inpatient self. Maybe it’s just her wanting some sense of validation. 

The both of them are sitting on the porch of their rented villa, hot chocolates on their hand. In the distant, she could hear the loud laughs and screams from their friends, no doubt enjoying the snow together. Both her and Charles had decided to retire early, far too worked up from the drama that y/n had made over skiing and how the male had basically force her to try it.

It didn’t work, leaving them sitting here as they watched the scenery together.

“Hey,” she called out, gaining his attention. “This thing between us… what are we?”

She could see the moment Charles wanting to answer something stupid like a ‘table’ considering there is a small table between the two of them right now. Though, her raised eyebrows seems to deter that intention.

“Well,” started the male, leaning back on his chair. “To start, I really like what’s going on between us.”

“Me too,” agreed the female as she curled her legs towards her chest. “I really like this.”

Charles chuckled at that, hand snaking towards the back of her chair before curling around her shoulder. “What do you want?” he asked. “I’ll follow whatever you want, I know your line of work doesn’t really accept dating but I…” trailed off the male, “I just want you to know that I never had these kinds of feelings with anyone before.”

It’s the same for me, she wants to say. I never felt something like this before.

(“I want you to experience the joy of love, even just once,” said Namjoon-oppa one night. “I think that’s one of the reasons that made us human. To be able love and being loved by others.”

Y/n had stared at him with eyes full of doubt. “Are you sure?” she had asked. “With our line of work, I think that love will only be an inconvenience.”

The male had laughed, patting the top of her head. “You have to experience it yourself to know it, n/n.”)

Maybe this is what Namjoon-oppa meant. 

The grip that she had around her chocolate burns, though she really doesn’t care.

Why should she care when Charles is staring at her as if she’s the answer to all of his problems? Why should she care when Charles is staring at her as if the world revolves around her? Why should she care when her heart beats almost erratically – far too fast than usual -?

Why should she care when she’s sure that she shares the same feeling as Charles?

“I…” she started, staring at those warm warm green eyes. “I want us to date,” said the female finally. “Make it official.”

“Yeah?” grinned Charles as he leaned closer. “I also really like that.”

She hummed, cheeks flushed and heart far too loud on her ears.

“Hey, chérie?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Her world stopped. 

Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.

Thumpthumpthumpthump-

E/c meet Charles’s warm green ones. Looking at him this closely, it was as if she could map out the constellation that’s peppering his face. How his long eyelashes perfectly framed his eyes and how his breath almost mingled with hers-

“Yes,” she whispered out.

The first kiss that they shared tasted like chocolate and peppermint.

The first of many.

.

Video calls had become a norm in their relationship.

Every day, without fail, they would call each other. Most of the time it was when Charles is finishing up his morning workout and she’s having her lunch. Sometimes it’s when Charles just went home – late at night – and y/n had just woken up from her sleep.

It’s nice, to be able to see his face and hear his voice every day.

When they’re not calling each other, the texts between them had become almost unstoppable. Y/n thinks the reason for that was because right now – during this point of time – the both of them are on their respective off season. Charles is having his winter break before the next season starts, and while y/n is preparing her solo debut, it’s not as actively as the other members who have a closer deadline compared to hers.

Despite only being limited to calls and texts, y/n finds herself really enjoying it. There’s just something about being woken up not by an alarm or her manager but by a call from Charles. Or there’s just something about seeing Charles after he had just finishing up his morning workout.

She will literally kill someone to be able to experience all those things directly.

“You’re still chatting with the guy?” 

Closing the messenger app, she turned her head towards Taehyung-oppa who’s sitting next to her. Feet stretched and hands curled around the pillow on her lap.

“Yeah,” she said with a hum. “And I told you already, we’re dating now.”

The older chuckled at that. “My bad,” he said with a grin. “It’s a bit weird to think that the girl that always follows me and Jimin around now dating someone,” at this, his tone turned a bit dramatic. “My baby really grew up~”

She snorted at that. “You’re saying the same exact thing to Jungkook.”

“The both of you are my babies though,” said the male. “Anyway, are you going to meet him soon?”

Nodding, she showed him something on her phone. It’s a plane ticket, one way trip to Italy. “We’re going to meet up in Italy in January, before pre-season testing starts.”

“Cool,” replied the older man. “You said he’s a racing driver?”

“F1 driver,” she corrected as she shifted her attention towards the tv that had become, more or less, a background noise for the both of them.

They’re sitting inside bts artist lounge in HYBE, a room dedicated solely for them. She had been eternally grateful when the company made this room. After all, despite everything, a lot of the younger celebrities can’t relax when they’re in the same room with them.

“Why the sudden questions?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow together.

“Well,” started Taehyung-oppa. “You know how I went filming that new variety show in Mexico?”

Y/n nodded. 

“My co-stars asked for your number,” he blurted out. “They’ve been asking for a while, to be honest. But they did become more persistent when it was announced that we’re having a group hiatus for a while.”

She fell silent at that.

Bts group hiatus had changed a lot of things, be it professionally or personally. More brands had approached her for their advertisements and campaigns, realizing that for the next few years, she wouldn’t be tied with bts as a group. Even collaborations, dramas, or even variety shows, had contacted HYBE for a chance of collaboration with her.

The female knows that the same thing also happened to the boys. More chance to do solo work, more chance to branch out of bts – the very thing that had become their life for the past years.

In a more personal manner, well-

Somehow, many had interpreted their hiatus as their disbandment. That this is the end of them as a group. That there is no way for them to reunite once again under bts. Which means many people had tried to get to know her more… personally.

She had enough discreet confessions and veiled flirtation during her time as an idol to last a lifetime. Somehow, those kinds of things increased dramatically now.

“You know my answer to that,” she chuckled weakly. “It’s like dating the best friends of your brother, weird,” continued the female.

“I know, I know,” waved of Taehyung-oppa. 

A lot of things are changing, and she never felt so scared before.

.

She greeted Charles with a hug as he descended from the private plane.

“Hey,” said y/n, releasing the hug. Though, she could still feel Charles’s hand still curling around her waist. “Welcome to Korea,”

The male let out a laugh. “Such a warm welcome,” he teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes at that, still grinning, before she grabbed her hand and immediately drag him to the privacy of her car.

When Charles said that he wants to visit Korea, y/n immediately had everything prepared. From places to visit to foods that they should try together. Before this, she never realized how fun arranging a trip is.

For obvious reason, they can’t go to the popular places like Everland or other amusement parks. Museums though, is still an option. Charles had shown interest in arts and things like that, so y/n had asked Namjoon-oppa recommendations about museums that they should visit.

Besides museums, she had also dragged him to all of her favorite restaurants. Restaurants that only local knows. From the authentic Korean foods to fusions with western influences. She’s glad that Charles is not afraid to try different kind of food, though the expression on his face when he saw a still moving octopus on his plate is a bit too funny to not be recorded. 

Despite its being a short trip, she had taken so many photos of Charles. There’s one from Jeju Island, there’s one with him holding a bts album, there’s also one when he fell asleep on her bed.

It warms her heart, to see her boyfriend inside her house.

It warms her heart so much that that photo became her lockscreen.

.

A team from Cartier had come to South Korea to shoot a campaign with her.

They had marveled and exclaimed, patting her skin with makeup as they talked in rapid French and English.

“Dearie,” said one of them, painted lips smiling widely. “You’re glowing, more so than when I saw you in Paris.”

She hummed at that.

Paris felt like a lifetime ago. So many things had happened that she almost lost track of time. “You think so?” she asked with an easy smile. “Do I look better?”

“Of course,” said another as she clasped a diamond necklace on her neck. “You look amazing, dear.”

Y/n laughed at that. “You give me too much praise.”

“No, no, no,” said the woman. “I’m telling you the truth here!”

“Of course, of course,” she answered easily. “So, what kind of glow do I emit?”

“You look like a woman in love.”

Her heart almost stopped at that.

Love.

Isn’t it far too soon?

Isn’t she falling in love far too easily?

“Really?” asked the female, trying to not show her wavering voice. “Do I really look like a woman in love?”

“Yes,” breathed out the woman. “A woman, who had fell in love deeply.”

Maybe I am.

.

She went to Italy late January.

The first thing that appeared inside her mind when she arrived to Maranello is, obviously, Ferrari. From her hotel room with bright red walls and a picture of a Ferrari Formula One car team hanging everywhere, to the prancing horse statues that she sees everywhere in the town.

It seems, the team is the pride and joy of the town, she thought as she watched the Ferrari flag hanging from the building as she made her way to the city center. Which is good, because this means that no one will recognize a random kpop idol in the middle of this formula one obsessed city.

Charles is the star here. Every time he appeared, every time he went into town, everyone would crowd around him. 

“Charles!” yelled one of them in Italian when both y/n and Charles is having lunch. “You did good last season!”

The male laughed, yelling a “Thank you!” towards the other.

It happened so many times that she almost lost count. It’s clear that he’s adored and loved. Though, to see how loved he is, is a bit surprising.

“You’re so famous,” she said as she entered their hotel room. “It’s amazing to see.”

He hugs her from behind, wrapping his arm around her torso tightly. “It’s a bit weird for you to say that” he said, a bit muffled on her neck. “You have like 50 million followers, chérie.”

“Followers doesn’t mean everything,” she laughed, as they moved towards the balcony on their room.

From here, they could see the city of Maranello almost at its entirety. Something that she surely will remember when she went back to Korea. 

Charles had released his hold over her, entering their room before appearing besides her with two glasses of wine. He handed one of them towards her without a word.

“My name is going to be here one day,” said Charles, hand circling around her shoulder. “In one of the streets.”

Y/n nuzzled further towards the crook of his neck. “Is that a Ferrari driver privilege?” she asked.

“No, it’s Ferrari’s world champion privilege,” said the male with a grin. “I’m going to win it.”

She let out a hum at that. The way Charles phrased that statement is not ‘if I win it’ but ‘I’m going to win it’. It’s so full of conviction and truth. He truly believes that one day, he will win the championship under Ferrari.

“You really love Ferrari,” she stated, looking up towards him. 

Charles looked down, one hand coming to her face to pinch her cheek softly. “It’s my dream team,” he said. “All my life- it’s always the red car for me. I remember watching the grand prix from my friend balcony and all I could see it the red car winning the races.”

His dedication to his team is inspiring. The way he talked about Ferrari, it was as if he’s talking about his family. There’s a certain shine on his eyes as he rambled about his races and how great the car that they had last season. 

It almost reminded her of her own team. 

Devotion. That’s what she could feel from Charles. He had devoted his life for Ferrari. He had made his mind – and she knows that the male is a really stubborn guy – that he will win with Ferrari. That he will prove his nickname as the predestined one to be true. To bring back, the championship to Ferrari.

After all, when you win with Ferrari, you became legend.

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “And when you win your first championship, I will be there, cheering for you.”

The smile that Charles gave her is almost blinding.

.

“Do you think making our relationship public a good idea?”

Y/n stared at him, unable to answer.

She doesn’t know.

.

Surprisingly, Hybe doesn’t object her decision to make her relationship public.

“You’re in your tenth year already,” said PD-nim as the older male ate his dinner in front of her. “And this kind of things… didn’t we promise all of you that we will give you full reign over it?”

She tightened the grip on her chopstick.

Because what the male said is the truth. In order to make sure that all of them can do their reunion in 2025, they had decided to renew the contract with HYBE. Full reign over their artistic directory and personal life is one of the clause.

Still, even though HYBE gave her their permission, y/n can’t help but second doubting that decision.

Dating scandal is a taboo. It could ruin her career. It could ruin bts’s career. The stigma of her sleeping around with her members would grow once again. People would talk. How she’s a slut. How she’s only dating rich men.

It could be the end of her.

“I don’t think you should worry much,” said Jimin-oppa as she asked him about his opinion. “You should belief in our fans, not random online trolls.”

And the thing is- yes. She believes on their fans.

She knows that ARMY wants her to be happy.

She knows that ARMY won’t turn their back on her over these kinds of things.

But still, it’s only normal for her to be a bit nervous at this kind of things. She’s going to share a huge part of her life after all. The first one to ever publicized her relationship in bts.

Scary.

So so scary.

“We’re going to put up the announcement tomorrow if you’re sure with this,” said her manager, showing the already written announcement. “There will be backlash, obviously, but I think this decision will be healthier for you.”

“Yes,” she answered. “I know.”

“This can also be the start of a movement, y/n,” said the male. “It’s about time for the Korean entertainment industry to get rid of the dating taboo. Idols are human. They’re not some machine and dolls that the public can control. They deserve to love and to be loved.”

Idols are not dolls.

It’s normal for them to crave a romantic relationship.

“You are the biggest celebrity in South Korea,” continue her manager. “With you publicly announcing your relationship, we can change the industry to have a better culture around idols.”

And,

And isn’t that what bts stands for?

They want to change the culture in the South Korean entertainment industry. They want to break all of the stigma that everyone has over idols. They want to make a better working environment for the idols in this industry.

Less abuse.

Less control.

More freedom.

They want idols to have more power over their company and the public. They want idols to have their own hold over their life. They want idols to be able to live like an actual human being. To know things and to be able to experience normal emotions that they never had felt before.

They, want to change this industry. 

With that, she steeled her nerve one last time. 

“Yes,” she finally said. “Let’s announce it to the world.”

Hello this is Bighit Music

This is an official statement regarding Y/n L/n, one of the artist under HYBE labels.

Recently, Y/n had entered a romantic relationship with a close friend of hers, Charles Leclerc. They are maintaining a serious relationship.

Please show lots of support so they can continue this beautiful relationship.

Thank you.

Truth to be told, when Charles first started a conversation with the pretty girl on the bar, he was not expecting anything besides a quick hookup or maybe a mere short conversation.

While it’s true that she’s beautiful – probably the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen – he doesn’t have any plan to pursue her. He was so sure that he’s not looking for any relationship. The sting of finishing second on the championship after completely dominating the first few races had still annoyed him greatly. Charles was determined that for the next season he will only focus on his racing career and the battle for the title of world champion.

That is, until the woman smiled at him.

He had never been a believer of love at first sight. He had always thought that love is something that you need to nurture. Something that you should put a lot of effort in. He had believed that love is not something spontaneous. It was not something that struck you all of the sudden in the middle of an overpriced celebrity exclusive charity gala.

Though, what does Charles know about love anyway?

When the woman let out that bright grin – eyes crinkling, and eyebrows raising a bit – he felt as if his world became a brighter. That all of the sudden the loud music around them became quiet and the only thing that he could focused on is her and only her. 

As if, there is no burden of the Ferrari legacy on his shoulder. As if, he haven't let down the tifosi these past few years. As if, the sting of coming second place in the driver championship had been nonexistent.

Throughout the night as they continue to converse, he can’t help but follow each of her movement. The way that she will twirl her hair around her finger when she got nervous, the way her long nails gripped the glass, the way her painted lips would stretch into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen as she laughed and converse with him.

They talked about everything and yet nothing. From his horrible attempt of flirting to her decision to drink alone in the middle of the event. He could see the glances that was being thrown around towards them, a blatant show of them being interested on their conversation.

When the night was over, he was half in love already. Giving her his name and number is a no brainer.

Honestly, he was not expecting her to response to his offer for dinner. They didn’t know anything about each other after all. Though another part of him is trying to convince himself that that’s what having a dinner for. To get to know each other.

He had stared at his phone for a long time, glancing at it every couple of minutes until his manager reprimanded him about being distracted. That is until she responded, saying that she would love to have a dinner with him.

The few days where they had dinner together is the highlight of his trip to Paris. Which is a bit funny because he doesn’t even want to come to Paris at first – citing about medias and promoting brands that he had never even used before. Though in the end, he had been grateful at his decision to come.

Meeting y/n, had changed his world.

It was as if, his previously monotone world is now being filled with color. As if, before he met this woman, he never truly knows what living means.

It’s crazy how much he enjoys being in her presence. How much he loves to make her laugh and to show him sides that she had never allowed anyone else to see. 

It’s crazy, how fast he’s falling in love with her.

“Are you serious with her?” asked Pierre when they met in Monaco. “Because dating her will bring a lot of media attention. This isn’t like your previous relationship, Char.”

He knows.

He knows that there’s a lot of risk from dating her. From dating such a high profile star like her. He knows all of that. If Charles is a smarter man, he would’ve ran. If Charles is a smarter man, he would stop all of his advances towards her. If Charles is a smarter man-

Y/n lets out a laugh.

It's the most beautiful thing in the world.

Well.

Charles had always been stupid, isn’t he?

Spending time with her is addicting. It was as if he wants to spend every second of her life with her. As if he’s ready to commit-

The skiing trip had been blissful. He had felt that him and y/n had grown closer and closer. The kiss that they shared during the trip also helps the giddy feeling that always erupted inside of his chest every time he thinks about her.

I’m in love with her, he thinks. I’m in love with her, he wants to scream so that the world knows his feelings.

It’s addicting. He thinks this feeling will never fade.

 He thought that there is no way he can love her more than now, though, as he saw her walking in the paddock, wind brushing her hair as she stood there inside the Ferrari garage-

Yes, he thought. I want to spend my life with her.

.

Going to a Formula One race is not something that she really had thought of before.

Her dad is a big fan though. When she was a kid and before her family moved to South Korea, her dad used to take their family to watch the Italian Grand Prix every year. Back then, she was not that interested – to the dismay of her father – and then as she grew up, she got way too busy to even think about the sport anymore.

At last, until today.

The loud sound of the engine reverberated throughout the track. 

Y/n could feel the tense atmosphere that engulfed the Ferrari garage. All of them watching the screen with nervousness clear on their face.

Charles is leading the race with a red bull hot on his tail.

She doesn’t know that she will be this invested on watching fast cars going in circles, but this is Charles. This is the love of her life riding the fast cars going in circles.

There are a lot of hushed whispers, people commenting and watching the race with a bated breath. The sky is dark, only making the bright light around the track a bit more intimidating.

“Do you think he’ll win?” she asked Fred, the team principal of Ferrari. He had welcomed y/n with an open arm earlier. It seems that he’s delighted by the attention that y/n had brought to the team. “I’m- I’m really nervous.”

“If he keep this pace,” started the older man. “I’m positive that he will take the win.”

("I'm going to be a world champion," said Charles, tone full of confidence. He's sure of that. He's sure, that someday, he will bring back the championship to Ferrari.

And y/n wants to believe.)

It’s really nerve wrecking to see the last few laps. After all, from what she knows, the Red Bull that’s chasing Charles is last year championship winner, Max Verstappen. Charles had also said that there’s an ongoing intense rivalry between him and Max. A rivalry that had spanned across their childhoods up until now. 

Their rivalry had been compared to the greats of Formula One. Niki Lauda and James Hunt. Senna and Prost.

Leclerc and Verstappen.

It meant a lot to Charles. He had confessed that he had been chasing Max's back for years. To desperately prove to everyone that Charles is too, a once in a generation talent. That he too, will be one of the greats in Formula One.

This time, it's Max chasing Charles.

She can only breathed out a chocked sob when Charles entering his last lap, still leading the race. 

“Oh my god,” she said as the Ferrari team ran out of the garage. “Oh my god!”

She watched as Charles takes the win.

It was a celebration that he had only ever watched through the screen. A sea of red. Ferrari flags waving from the wind. Words full of adoration and reverence.

Charles, who had climbed out of his car and standing on top of it, pointing towards the sky as he shouted out his happiness.

"YES!" he had screamed, joy clear on his face and on his voice. "YESS!"

Y/n chocked out a sob.

He really won the first race of the season. An amazing way to start the season. A season that meant so much to him.

She stood there, amongst the crowd of red as she stared at her boyfriend being hugged by his team. Soon, his attention drifted towards her, and an even larger grin appeared on his face.

“You did it,” she whispered out as she hugged him. He let out a a loud laugh at that. “That was amazing-“

The female didn’t finish her words as Charles cut it as he pressed their lips together. She could feel countless cameras and eyes directed towards them as whoops and hollers appeared all around them.

She will be scolded by her manager.

The company will call her after this.

Though, she seems to not care about all of that at this moment.

“I love you,” he breathed out as their lips parted.

Grin still wide and a bit teary eyed, she lets out. “I love you, too.”

It’s safe to say that their fans broke the internet shortly after.

End

[borathae]

"If there is one thing you love to do, it is to pamper your boyfriend. So when Yoongi has been feeling especially stressed lately, you decide that it is time to treat him like the precious prince he is."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, domestic Fluff, Smut

Warnings: a stressed!Yoongi, she pampers him, casual nudity, this story consists of two parts: one fluffy and one smutty, the next warnings are for the smutty part, morning cuddles which lead to sex, sleepy & subby!Yoongi, service Dom!Reader, handjob in spooning position, little spoon!Yoongi heheh, neck kisses, gentle choking, praise, loving dirty talk, nipple play, blowjob, cum licking, overstimulation, a lil bit of gentle CBT, he is a painslut so he loves it, multiple orgasms for him, hand holding, he is sensitive & loves being touched <3

Wordcount: 10.4K

a/n: istfg i love men jfasjdfja okay that is a lie, i love men like mv!boongie <3 my precious prince <3 also lmao if someone tries to look up the definition of oral fixation, my name would show up ajdjfa like. can i write something other than oral sex? i don't fucking think so ahahah i'm telling you this stems from my childhood addiction of sucking my own thumb every chance i got until i was thirteen ahaha that shit shaped my frontal cortex or whatever part of the brain is in charge of kink development jsjdf

You like trying out new things. Especially when those new things involve surprising your amazing, wonderful, lovely boyfriend Yoongi.

Today, you left a little something in his wing to find. A letter, telling him of how much you wanted to be with him tonight including a very detailed description of your plans and your location shall he want the same.

Yoongi should be out for most of the day, training with Jungkook and later meeting up with some of his creations in town to go over future plans of strengthening the vampire community. With Namjoon’s followers mostly gone and their Creator hidden from the world, the community has been brittle. Attacks on peaceful vampire communities by hostile werewolves or witches became way too common in cities where peace was already brittle to begin with. Yoongi and his followers are currently creating strategies which will ensure the peace without cities breaking into a full supernatural civil war. Which means that he is a very busy man lately, coming home later than usual and with little energy left to cook. He feels really bad about it, even if you keep ensuring him that it was never his responsibility to feed you and that you can cook for yourself while he relaxed.

It worked for a little while until he began stressing out over not being able to cook on top of all the other stress he is currently experiencing. Truly, if he didn’t posses supernatural healing you are sure that he would have already greyed by now from all the stressing he has been doing these past few weeks.

But you want to change that tonight. You want him to feel so relaxed that stress ceases to be part of his vocabulary. 

By now, it’s already way past eight. Yoongi should have been home for at least thirty minutes. You want to check on him, but are scared to ruin the letter surprise this way. So you take out your phone and text Jungkook instead.

He answers you ten minutes later.

-          Baby ♡: I don’t know if he’s home yet. I’ve been home since six ♡♡♡

-          Baby ♡: I’m sorry baby ♡♡♡

-          You: It’s fine. Don’t worry about it ♡♡♡

-          Baby ♡: Are you scared that something happened? ♡♡♡

-          You: No, but I have a surprise for him ♡♡♡

-          Baby ♡: ooooooh *o* a surprise *O*

-          You: yeah… :D I wrote him a letter telling him to come to my wing if he wanted to have a spa day ♡♡♡

-          Baby ♡: wowie *^* spa days are so nice ♡♡♡ I’m sure he’ll be home soon heh ♡♡♡

-          You: yeah probably ♡♡♡

-          Baby ♡: hehe ♡♡♡♡

You send him one more round of hearts and then place the phone aside, turning your attention back to the task at hand. The surprise has been prepared, which means that you have free time and what better way to use said free time than to do some gardening in the greenhouse.

Only easy tasks like pruning the roses and picking off dead leaves from your wisteria. You don’t want to get too dirty in case Yoongi comes home.

The man of the hour comes home only a few moments after you texted Jungkook. You are currently in the back of the greenhouse, looking at the perfectly pruned roses when he calls out for you.

“___?”

Your heart flutters. He is here. Hopefully he read the letter first before coming here. It would make the surprise all the more exciting.

“My love, are you here?”

“I’m coming!”

You meet him in the middle. Right where you shared so many breakfasts together. 

Like always lately, the heaviness of a long and stressful day drags down his shoulders. It is so obvious to you these days, now that you know him so well. 

“Hello there, my prince”, you greet him, opening your arms. 

“Hey”, he says, falling into the hug gladly. He even buries his face in the crook of your neck and releases a loud sigh. It was the kind of sigh which sheds the heart of sorrow.

“Did you have a good day?”

“No.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry. Lots of stress?”

“Yeah”, he murmurs into you, tickling your skin with the timbre of his voice, “did you eat already?”

“I did. Don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t cook. I promise I’ll make time on the weekend. I just have so much to do and I just”, he stops talking to sigh instead, pressing himself closer to you, “I’m tired”, he confesses in a whisper.

“Don’t worry about it, my love. I don’t want you to think that feeding me is your job. I can cook for myself, okay?”

“I guess.”

“Well, I can”, you assure him and squeeze him gently, “did you get my letter?" 

“Letter?”

“Yes, I left it on your bed.”

“No, I wasn’t in my wing yet. I came straight to you.”

“Oh okay. Mhm sad, I wanted to surprise you.”

“I can go right now. I’m sorry, I have so much to do. I didn’t have time yet and I-”

“Hush, it’s okay”, you stop him, massaging his scalp gently.

Yoongi lets out a sound of defeat and murmurs into your neck, “I’m gonna cry. I don’t know for how long I can still do this.”

“Oh Yoongi, I’m sorry you feel this way”, you say and give him a squeeze, “do you have to work again tomorrow?”

“No, they’ll be gone till next week. But I have to do so much work at home. There’s so much shit to go through and, and people to call and I don’t wanna.”

“Okay, I see. At least you can plan your time how you want to tomorrow. Yeah?” 

“I guess.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, which you can’t blame him for.

“I prepared a few things for you if you want to. I promise it will relax you.”

“What do you mean?” he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes, “why did you prepare something?”

“Because you’re stressed and I wanna spoil you.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? Because I want to and you deserve it.”

“Okay?”

“Mh-hm, now come along. I’ll give you the best spa night ever.” 

“Really?” he gets out, stumbling after you. 

“Yes, really.”

“But why me?”

“Because you’re my love.”

“Oh.”

You lead him to your bathroom. You talk as you walk. 

“It would make a lot more sense if you read my letter. I was being really cheesy in it and talked all about how I’ll make you feel like a king.”

“Oh. Okay”, he is shy. You know that he is.

“Yeah and then I told you to come find me in my wing. Which is why I asked you if you read my letter.”

“Sorry. I wanted to see you first."

“That’s okay. I should have figured. I’m just glad that you’re home safe”, you tell him and turn. You have reached your closed bathroom door, “close your eyes.”

“Okay?” Yoongi says and follows. 

“Don’t peek.”

“I won’t.”

You open the door and take both his hands afterwards. You guide him into the room. Yoongi sniffles instantly.

“It smells good.”

“Don’t look yet. Okay?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying.” 

You place him just a little away from the door so you could close it. Then you snap your fingers, lighting the dozens and dozens of candles in the room. Being a witch fucking rocks. You don’t even have to work for romantic lighting, you just have to snap your fingers. With a another snap of your fingers the record player starts playing Yoongi’s favourite album for relaxation. His lips curls into a smile. 

“I know that song”, he says with happiness in his voice.

“Yeah, definitely. Don’t peek.”

“For how long? What are you doing?”

“Soon.”

“You’re making it so suspenseful.”

One last snap of your fingers to turn off the main lights. 

“Okay. Open your eyes.”

Yoongi follows, looking around the warmly lit room. You filled the bathtub with water and rose petals, mixing in your most relaxing bathing oils. On the side table, a glass of his favourite whiskey cocktail is waiting and you prepared his most comfortable pyjamas to wear. You also created a big bouquet of flowers, which he knows for a fact you will want him to keep in his wing. You love getting him flowers and he loves receiving them even he gets incredibly shy because of it.

“Princess”, he gets out, looking at you with sparkly eyes. They look so close to tearing up.

“Surprise”, you say, stretching your arms above your head, “it was pretty obvious what I’ll do in the bathroom, but surprise.”

Yoongi looks away and at the room again, touching his own tummy as he does. His eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. Thank you so much”, he says and nods his head.

You close the distance and hug him. Yoongi hugs you back instantly, hiding his face in your neck like always. 

“I’m happy that you love it. I have a lot more prepared. So I hope that you’re ready.”

“I am”, he mumbles, “thank you so much.”

“Hm”, you hum and pat his butt, “you have to get naked for the bath.”

“I know. Can I do it alone?”

“Of course. I’ll be by the sink preparing the facial.”

“What did you prepare?”

“Just something nice. I looked up a tutorial. Trust me, I’m a professional skincarer now.” 

“Skincarer isn’t even an actual word”, Yoongi says in a laugh as he is slowly getting naked. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll give you the best facial ever.”

“You’re aware of how that sounds, right?”

“Oh, I know. If you had read my letter, you would know that I have prepared a spicy section too if you are still awake after my super duper king spa treatment special.”

Yoongi chuckles, “okay, I’ll try to stay awake.”

“No pressure though. Tonight’s about you. I can do it tomorrow too or whenever you’re in the mood.”

“Okay. Ah shit.”

You turn, “what happened?”

He is by the bath, buttnaked and with his toe wet.

“The water’s cold”, he says.

“I know. I didn’t know when you’d be back, so I filled it with cold water. Don’t worry, I’ll warm it up”, you say and hurry to him. You stick your right hand into the water and mumble the magical words. Your eyes glow golden for just a moment before your hand gets a fiery shine to it. The water warms up slowly and you only stop once it is giving of a gentle steam.

“Test it now”, you tell him.

Yoongi lifts his foot and lowers it into the water, “good”, he says and steps inside the bathtub. He lowers himself, pushing the water aside. It reaches him just a little over his nipples once he is submerged entirely.

“There we go. Are you comfy?” you ask him.

He is looking up at you with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms hugging them, “can I have it a little warmer, please?” he asks shyly.

“Of course”, you say, sticking your hand back into the water, “I’ll go slow, so tell me once it’s good for you.”

“Okay.”

Your eyes glow, your hand shines and soon the water begins warming up more and more. The relaxing oils activate with the magical heat, tainting the water milky and filling Yoongi’s nose with a wonderful smell. He feels droopy and oh so relaxed because of it. Yoongi lets you warm the water for a few moments, staring at your face with a fluttering tummy. He is so, so happy about the surprise and he loves it so much. Even if he is too tired to show his true excitement, he is bursting in it. Truly, he feels so lucky to be with you.

“Okay, stop”, he says.

“Got it.”

You stand up and dry your hand on the towel you laid out for Yoongi. Then you hurry to the back of him, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“Lean back.”

He does so without resistance, letting out a surprised gasp when his head sinks into a soft cushion. The water reaches him a little under his neck now.

“Huh?” he sneaks a glance at the pillow..

“Is it comfy?”

“Yeah, really. Where did you get that?”

“Internet. I purchased it a few weeks ago, but never got to using it. Do you like it?”

“Yeah”, he says and relaxes his entire body. He even stretches out his legs and closes his eyes, “thank you for this”, he whispers.

“Don’t thank me too soon. Are you ready for your super duper king special treatment facial?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice, just tell me if you need anything else. Your favourite cocktail’s on the table.”

“Yeah, thank you”, he says and reaches for it. He spills some water on the ground, but that doesn’t matter right now. He drinks his cocktail while you gather the skincare products. “it tastes good”, he tells you.

“Yeah? That’s good to hear.”

Yoongi places it aside and submerges his arm back in the warm water. Then he lets his head fall into the cushion, looking up at you that way. You place your hand on his forehead so you could brush his hair out of his face. You secure a headband around his head, making sure to reveal his entire forehead to you. His eyes fall closed instantly, his lips part as a relaxed sigh leaves him.

“I’ll get started now, yeah?”

“Just do whatever, as long as I don’t gotta talk.”

“Don’t worry, no more talking”, you assure him and smooch his forehead, “relax my love, I’m getting started.”

You start off the treatment by cleaning off the day with a gentle oil cleanser.

“Are you putting oil on my face?” he asks, trying to move away at the unfamiliar feeling, but you stop him with a firm hand on his forehead.

“Yes, it’s called double cleansing. Trust me.”

“Okay?”

“Trust me.”

“I am, just feels weird”, he mumbles as he relaxes again.

“It’ll help.”

Once you washed off the oil, you use a soft smelling foam cleanser. Yoongi sniffles vividly as you spread it on his face, voicing his liking for it with a low hum. You wipe the foam away with a warm towel, making sure to be extra careful around the eyes. 

Once he is clean and patted dry, you begin with the true treatment. You spread a soothing toner with a cotton pad on his face and follow it up with a serum. You know that physically it is impossible for his skin to show signs of exhaustion, age or stress. Hell, he can’t even get impurities because his healing powers prevent him from getting them. But you still believe that a good calming serum will do his skin good. Even if it’s just to help relax his mind. 

After the serum, a sheet mask follows. 

“Ah, hey”, he gasps and opens his eyes, “that’s wet”, he complains, trying to move away again.

“It’s a sheet mask. Close your eyes and stop moving.”

“Does all of that even do anything?”

“Yes, it’ll relax you and make your face glow. Close your eyes.”

Yoongi follows, even if hesitant at first, but begins to relax again when you run your fingers over his face in order to smooth out the mask. It tingles so nicely.

“Okay, that’ll have to stay on your face for twenty minutes. Do you want a head massage in the mean-”

“Yes”, Yoongi interrupts you.

You chuckle, “I take this as a clear yes”, you say and wash your fingers in the bath water. You dry them on the towel and then return to your spot behind him. 

You start off by opening the headband and keeping his hair off his forehead with a warm hand on his head. 

“I watched a lot of tutorials on head massages, so get ready for the best massage ever.” 

“Mhm.”

And so they begin. The most amazing and wonderful and perfect twenty minutes of Yoongi’s life. You weren’t lying when you told him that he will experience the best head massage ever, because he does. He really, really does. You not only pay attention to his entire scalp, you also make sure to massage his tense jaw muscles behind his ear and to loosen the knots in his tight neck muscles. By the time those twenty minutes are over, Yoongi hasn’t closed his mouth in ten minutes and he doesn’t even know that his mouth is open. He is entirely and completely relaxed.

You take off his mask without talking, placing it on the table for now. You waste no time, using the excess serum to massage his face as well. Starting off at his forehead and brows, you guide your skilled finger along his temples, massage his jaw muscles and tense tongue muscle along his throat and you make sure to target every single inch of his face. You even incorporate a gentle massage on the more tender spots, meant to soothe and not to relax tensions, and Yoongi is in heaven. He really is. This is more than heaven. This is his personal paradise, the reason why he exists. It feels so good. His body can’t stop tingling and he swears that he actually feels as if he is floating. He was so stressed, but he isn’t anymore. It soothes him so much to be so pampered. 

Once the serum has been massaged into his skin thoroughly, you begin putting on moisturiser, giving him a softer massage in order not to stress out his skin barrier. You go especially gently on his eyelids, kissing each of them after you finished spreading the cream. 

Once his face glows from being pampered, you spread a thin layer of scalp serum on your palms for one last round of a deep and relaxing scalp massage. 

By now, Yoongi is sleeping. There is no sugar coating the truth. Your once stressed boyfriend is slumbering peacefully with his lips apart and his face entirely slack in relaxation. He looks so adorable like this. 

You give his shoulders a thorough massage as well, ending it off by caressing his chest and then your massage is officially finished. Face glowing, scalp nourished and muscles relaxed he is sleeping in the bathtub while you gaze at him with fond eyes.

That’s what you wanted to happen. He finally looks relaxed.

You play with the thought of waking him for a moment. You really have to, don’t you?

You decide to clean up first. He should sleep as much as he can before you have to cruelly wake him again. You turn off the record player and even take a quick shower so you can change into your pyjamas. Afterwards you do your own skincare and brush your teeth. Yoongi is sleeping through all of it. 

Only then – and once you extinguished the candles – you return to him, cupping his cheeks to shake him awake.

“My love”, you whisper with a heavy heart, “my love, wake up.”

Yoongi begins responding after a few moments. First he huffs out air, then he whines and shakes his head until he finally opens his eyes.

He looks just slightly mad to be woken like this, but most of all, way too sleepy for his own good.

“I know. I’m sorry for waking you, but I need to get you outta the water and into your pjs”, you whisper. 

Yoongi makes a small sound and moves. It looks and feels robotic. You know that he is barely conscious and only really does what his muscles remember to do. 

He gets out of the bath with your help and plops down on the edge of the tub. You open the drain and just about manage to wrap the towel around him because then he is already falling against you, barely awake and so terribly sleepy. 

“-eepy”, he mumbles quietly, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Almost done, my love. We just gotta get you dry and into your pjs, yeah? Can you work with me? Please?”

Yoongi nods his head and somehow manages to get up and follow you to the pyjamas. He manages to put them on, even if his eyes were closed through the entirety of it. And then he stumbles into the bedroom with your hand tightly in his’ and his trust fully put into you. He doesn’t open his eyes even once, only when you tell him to get into bed.  

He sinks into the pillow, letting out a sleepy sound of relaxation.

You tug him in and get under your blanket. 

“Is nice”, he mumbles, reaching for you.

“Mhm, that’s good to hear”, you say before giving him a kiss on his temple. Afterwards, you roll over to turn off the bedside lamp. Now hued into darkness, you return to him and place your hand on his cheek to caress it softly, “sleep tight, my love”, you whisper and the last thing Yoongi does before he truly falls back to sleep is seek you out for nightly cuddles.

And if one thought that this warm, little snippet of your wonderful life together was over, one was mistaken. As the next part of this warm, little snippet is entirely dedicated to how you woke up with Yoongi as your little spoon the next day and how you made good of the promise you gave him last night. Shall one wish to live in negligence, one can stop reading now. However, shall one find themselves with a certain desire for Yoongi’s blissful morning hours, one shall continue to indulge in this warm, little snippet a little longer. Whatever path one might choose, one shall always know that Yoongi is truly and soul-consumingly happy ever since he is yours and he will continue to be truly and soul-consumingly happy for as long as he is by your side. 

Although you fell asleep later than Yoongi, you wake first. You don’t feel tired, as a matter of fact, you feel so well rested that you could definitely start off your day by running around. You know that it is because Yoongi radiated so much tranquillity throughout the night, which in return helped you rest as well. 

Smiling because you are so happy that last night’s plan worked, you pull him tighter against your chest and drape your leg over his hips. Now he can’t escape and you can get lost in the amazing feeling of holding him. He fits so perfectly into your arms and he is so warm and smells heavenly too. You nuzzle your nose deep into his hair and kiss the nape of his neck this way.

Yoongi cut his hair again. Not as short as he had it when you first met him, but it had grown to a length where he disliked it. So he cut it again and thinned it out at the back. Not that thinning out did a lot for him. He has the thickest hair even. Even all the thinning left behind enough to grab and hold and play with him. And also enough to get lost in. He seriously smells so, so good. 

You hug him tighter and inhale deeply, waking him with it. He makes himself known by letting out a deep and quiet hum. 

“Mhm, morning”, you answer him, rubbing his tummy. 

“Mhm”, Yoongi purrs. 

Nothing more is exchanged between the two of you. You continue to smell his soft hair and kiss whatever part of his head you can reach, while Yoongi travels between the world of the awake and the dreaming. He ends up staying in his dream world. You prop yourself up on your elbow and glance at his face. You have to remove your leg from his hip, but you don’t mind because you can feel his butt against your crotch this way. His head rests on your lower arm and his hand is mere inches away from holding your wrist. His fingers twitch as he very obviously dreams and it makes you wonder if he is currently dreaming about holding your hand. It would be so cute if he did. 

You move the arm you have draped around him so you could touch his hand. His fingers, knuckles and veins. He has the most beautiful hands. You caress his wrist for a little and then move to trace his face, using the back of your hand for it. His cheeks are so soft, his skin feels so healthy. You also think that it is glowing especially prettily this morning and you know for a fact that it is because of last night’s spa treatment.  

You were so happy last night because he took the surprise with so much enthusiasm. Truly, you have the best boyfriend ever. 

You lean down and kiss his cheek. 

“Mhm”, Yoongi wakes because of it, sounding a lot more energized than last time. Forty minutes had passed since then. Yoongi chases your kiss by moving his head so he could look at you, “morn’in.”

“Good morning”, you tell him and kiss his lips. 

He kisses you back, which means that he was actually awake this time around. He smiles sleepily as you break the kiss and rolls his head back into a more comfortable position. You rest back into the pillow, snuggling into him happily.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, really well”, he says, “you?”

“I did, yeah. You felt so calm in my arms tonight, so I feel really refreshed.”

“I slept so well”, he says. His voice is deep and raspy from sleep. “I haven’t slept that well in ages. I kept dreaming about all the stuff I gotta do, but tonight I didn’t dream of anything.” 

“Yes? That’s so good to hear. You deserved it, my love.”

“Mhm”, he hums and wiggles his butt so he was closer to you, “thank you for last night.” 

You smile and kiss the nape of his neck. His hair feels so soft there. You love the feeling of it against your lips. Yes, you are obsessed enough with him to love having hair on your lips. Oh truly, this man consumes your every fiber. 

“I didn’t know I needed it, but I really did. Thank you.”

“I’m just happy that I could help you relax, my love.”

“You did. I was so relaxed and it felt so good. I never experienced something like this before and I loved it so much.”

“Last night was your first time?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh Yoongi, you shouldn’t have told me that. Now I gotta start planning monthly super duper special king treatment spa days to make up for all the lost times.”

He chuckles sleepily, “I won’t stop you.”

“Okay, good”, you say and snicker, “just you wait, I’ll be the best skincarer ever.”

“This is so stupid”, he says in a laugh. The kind of laugh which shakes his shoulders and sounds like little squeaks for air. You love this kind of laugh. 

It always makes you laugh and smile with him. You end up smooching his neck as well, doing so happily.��

“You gotta admit, it has a ring to it.”

“Yeah, I guess”, he says and ends his giggles with a content sigh. He reaches for your hand and grabs it tightly to guide it to his lips. They feel soft as he kisses your knuckles. Once. Twice. Three and four times. Then a stub with his button nose, “thank you so much for this”, he says. 

“Yoongi…”

“I know I didn’t show it last night, but I was really moved by it and I was happy. Yeah. I was really happy. I’m sorry for sucking so much at showing it.” 

“Don’t apologise, my love. I knew that you loved it.”

“Good, that’s good. My love”, he says and pulls your arm tighter around him. 

You nuzzle into him, tightening your arm around him. 

“You’re so warm”, he sighs dreamily.

“And you’re soft”, you tell him, slipping your hand to his tummy to rub it softly. He loves tummy rubs. Only a few seconds of them and he vibrates in soft purrs. 

Today is no different. Rhythmic and terribly sleepy, he fills the silence with his happy purrs. You love that this is just part of him. It’s so relaxing to hear him purr. 

Only a few minutes later and he takes your hand to stick it under his shirt. You glance at him, he meets your eyes shyly.

“I like that”, he whispers, “don’t judge me.”

“I’m not”, you assure him, nuzzling your cheek against him, “I like it too”, you tell him and begin to caress his tummy.

It’s so incredibly soft. Not only because his skin is silken and perfect, but also because he has just enough tummy that he is soft. He is just grab-able enough that you can squish him. You like that because of how perfect he is to pet that way. And Yoongi likes it because he has the most sensitive tummy and when you rub it, he feels at peace. 

This morning however, he also can’t deny the other effects your loving touch has on him. He was way too exhausted to think about sex last night, but he feels rested today. Which means that your touches leave behind just a small tingle of desire in his tummy. Paired with your neck kisses and the incredible softness of your body behind him and Yoongi can’t deny it anymore. This is making him needy. 

The concept of being needy was entirely foreign and rather undesirable for Yoongi before he met you, but with you he really enjoys that feeling. Except for the aching boners he gets as a side effect. He doesn’t like them. Not at all. 

He tries to ignore it at first. You aren’t making any moves and the current situation is so comfy that he doesn’t want to ruin it by asking for more. But then you begin slipping your fingers under the waistband of his pants every so often and Yoongi is spiralling. 

He is aware that you are only doing it because his lower tummy is the softest and you enjoy the feeling of his happy trail under your fingertips. But it’s getting so unbearable to stay calm. You are so close to where he aches and yet you feel too far away. 

You are in the midst of running your hand up his tummy when he snaps. He grabs it, making you gasp in surprise because of how passionately he made contact. 

You lift your head from his neck, studying his face. 

Yoongi acts fast. In one swift movement he has your hand tugged to his cock. He presses you close, making you feel every single inch of his hard length. 

“Please”, he gets out in a whisper, grinding his hips into your hand. 

“Oh my god, Yoongi. Did this make you hard?” you gasp.

He glances at you, meeting your amused yet very excited expression. 

He nods his head and squeezes his cock with your hand in between.

“Please.”

“What do you need?” you ask, knowing very well what he needs.

“Your hand.”

“You’re holding my hand.”

“No”, he is pouting. It makes you smile, because it’s adorable, “I want it there”, he says and rubs his cock against your palm, “like this”, he says breathily, “touching me”, he sighs even breathier and with his fingers squeezing your hand. 

Your stomach clenches in arousal. He is so sexy when he is like this. Especially when he explicitly asks to be touched.

“Mhm Yoongi, you’re so hot like this”, you purr and give his cock a gentle squeeze.

He lets out a quiet sigh, rolling his hips into your hand.

“Do you want it like this?”

“Wanna take off my pants.” 

“Okay, do it”, you say, giving him space.

He manages to take them off until they sit around one of his ankles and then he gives up. That’s good enough. He needs to be with you again, feel your warmth and experience your touch. You fucking made him obsessed with it and now he can’t get enough of it. 

He returns to the previous position, wiggling his butt against you and giving you a boyish look over his shoulder. It makes you giggle and hug him tight.

“Comfy?” you ask after smooching his cheek.

“Yeah, comfy”, he says and looks at your lips, “kiss me.” 

He barely manages to finish his request and then he is already gasping as you use a bundle of his hair to tilt his head into a kiss. It is rough and passionate. Yoongi didn’t expect it, which results in his head to get dizzy with the first contact. His tummy also did a really, really intense clench. It was the most amazing feeling ever, even if it resulted in his cock to grow even harder. 

You moan into the hot kiss, feeling entirely consumed by him. His exposed butt is pressing into your crotch, his naked legs rub against yours and his hard cock begs for attention. He is so close to you. So utterly and entirely engrossed in your presence and now you can feel him up with all the time in the world. Oh, you are so desperate for him.

It gets too much. You can’t control yourself anymore. Without warning, you take his cock between your fingers and pick up an almost punishing speed. 

Yoongi reacts accordingly. He breaks the kiss to squeak in surprise. His body flinches and his legs press together. 

“Wait”, he gets out, looking up at you with widened eyes and his lips parting in a gasp. 

“You’re so hard, holy fuck”, you whisper seductively as your hand pumps his heavy cock. Fast. Rough. With the intent to make him shake. 

“It’s t-too much”, he gets out and gasps, arching his back which results in your contact to break. 

Not with you. You pull him back against your chest, sliding your hand to his throat afterwards. Like this, his head is on your upper arm while his throat gains a new necklace in the shape of your hand. 

You press your lips to his ear, keeping your voice in this one specific register which will always make him weak. 

“Is this too much, mhm? Should I slow down?” you ask as your hand around his cock punishes him quickly. He needs no punishment and yet you can’t stop. He is so fucking perfect when he writhes in forced stimulation. 

“Slow, yeah, slow please”, Yoongi begs.

“Okay. I’ll slow down. Like this?” you ask and stop your movements so you could massage him instead. You keep your hand around his tip, massaging him in smooth pulses and gentle squeezes.

Yoongi presses back against you, tilting his head to reveal more of his neck. You squeeze down on his veins, watching hungrily as he rolls his eyes back in bliss. They flutter closed a second later.

“Yes”, he sighs, following it up with a quiet, “holy shit ___, that feels so good.” 

“Yeah, you just keep sighing my name. Your voice sounds so pretty when you do.”

“___”, Yoongi sighs, placing his hands on your lower arm to squeeze. His fingers are just a little clammy, his touch is filled with no strength. He wants to simply feel you, make sure that you are real and that he is actually experiencing the pleasure you make him feel.

“That’s it. Keep moaning my name”, you encourage him, moving his head with your hand on his throat. Like this, you can kiss his cheek. It makes you so happy because you can feel how Yoongi actively chases your kisses by tilting his head closer. 

“___, ah.”

“My handsome love”, you whisper, “my pretty prince.”

Yoongi likes the praise so much that he moans your name again. Quietly. Like a breathy whisper. He is so far gone in this warm bubble of pleasure, comfort and safety that he can’t do much more than whisper. This is the best morning ever. He is so safe, so warm and so well-touched. Yoongi presses himself closer against you and sighs your name.

You abandon his tip for just a moment because you want to feel him up entirely. You go slow, pressing his cock against his tummy to run your hand up and down the underside of it. His skin is so soft, while his cock is so hard. The contrast of it feeds your obsession for him inch by fucking inch. With every second you touch him, the feelings you have for him get easier to bear. Not much, but at least you don’t feel like suffocating anymore.

Yoongi runs his hands up and down your lower arm, following it with his head turning as he tries to kiss you. His lips are parted, giving you a little sigh.

“Feels good?” you whisper.

“Yeah, feels…good…ah kiss me, p-please.”

“My beautiful Yoongi”, you whisper and kiss him, swallowing the happy sound he makes. He doesn’t really know how to kiss you at first. As if he forgot everything he ever learned because you are touching him so good that his brain turned into mush. You know that this is what is happening right now. 

It’s not often that Yoongi asks to be touched. So whenever he does, it means that he wants to be turned into a dumb, pleasure-drunk mess. No wonder he kisses messily at first, you’ve got him ruined. You slide your hand from his throat to rub his chest instead. It rumbles in deep purrs of enjoyment and his lips soon after find your rhythm. Slow, loving tongue kisses. The kind which leaves both of you so, so lightheaded.

Somewhere in the maze of loving kisses, you allow your hand to change course. You wrap your fingers around his length again and pick up a steady pace, jerking him off with the help of all the excitement he leaks. Of course he’s wet. Yoongi’s so easy to pleasure once he trusts you. He gets wet so easily.

The kiss breaks because Yoongi needed to gasp. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze. It is hazy, blurry and filled with devoted submission. He can’t stop staring, even when so close to your face. His eyes keep switching between your left eye down to your lips and up to your right eye before repeating the route again and again and again. He is so obviously in love, which makes you want to never look away.

You haven’t noticed it yet, but you are mimicking his feelings. Your eyes can’t stop racing between his eyes and his lips and if it was physically possible, Yoongi is sure that your pupils would have turned into little hearts by now.

“Closer please”, he whispers and you hug him against you, placing your hand on his waist to keep him close. Yoongi has to moan at the contact, fluttering his eyelids for just a second before he begins drawing little triangles on your face again.

You are enjoying this moment with intense pleasure bubbling in your tummy. Truly, you don’t even need to be touched to feel satisfied. This is making you feel so fulfilled. And it is filling you with this warm desire to make him feel in paradise. You pick up your pace, watching in delight how Yoongi reacts.

He closes his eyes and scrunches his nose up, letting a quiet, “fuck” slip from his lips.

“Yoongi”, you press out, hugging him tighter. You lower your lips to his face, spreading soft kisses on every inch you can reach.

“I can’t hold it for much longer”, he confesses, pressing back into you to get as close as possible. Truly one may think that it wouldn’t be possible to be closer, but somehow Yoongi manages to merge even deeper with you. Warm back against warm chest, his hands holding your arm while you hold him and with your legs tangled into a mess which makes sense to you and him. You are so close in fact that you can actually feel how his body prepares for his high. He is tensing his muscles more and more and gains so much more warmth to his body.

“Did, did you hear me?” he tries with his voice just slightly higher than usual. Not much, but it is clear that he is struggling. He is breathing so heavily and his butt keeps rubbing against you as he squirms.

“I heard you”, you assure him, kissing his cheek, “does it feel good for you or should I change something?”

“More on the tip, please.”

“Okay. Like this?” you say, massaging his velvety cockhead.

“Yeah….” he gets out and rolls his head away to bury it in the pillow, “ah”, his voice is muffled by it, “ah god, ah.”

It goes on for about five strokes and then Yoongi gasps and turns his head again, looking up at you with so obviously faded eyes. He is so far gone.

“Soon.”

“I know, you’re doing so well”, you praise him, caressing the side of his ribs slowly.

“Tell me that you….ahmhm”, he gulps and tries to continue talking, doing so with his eyes glued to your lips, “that you love, ah, love me.”

Your heart flutters.

“I love you, Min Yoongi.”

“I love you too”, he chokes out and scrunches his face up as his high hits him. This is all it took. To watch your lips form his favourite words paired with your closeness and skilled touch, is all it took. He reaches up and pulls you close with his trembling hands gripping whatever part of your head they could reach. Your nose collides with his cheek and soon you feel his lips attempting to kiss, but failing miserably. You’ve got him climaxing so hard that it is impossible for him to do much more than keen quietly and fight for air.

“Good boy, you’re doing so well”, you talk him through it with loving whispers and little pecks on his pouty lips. And Yoongi swears his entire world lights up because of it.

He comes down way too soon for your taste, now merely shivering in your arms while his cock softens in your hand rapidly fast.

“Princess”, he gets out, hooking his arms behind your head to pull you into a kiss. It is sloppy and filled with gratitude. You love it so much, but you want so much more. You break the kiss, making him beg for more. You have to ignore him, even if you want to keep kissing him. He isn’t done yet. One wasn’t enough.

You roll him to his back and claim the emptiness between his legs. They are still wobbly from the intense orgasm you gave him, making it easy for you to pick them up and slide off his pants completely. You throw them to the side and lean down, picking up his softened cock to put him into your mouth.

Yoongi’s hips shoot up, his legs close around you and a surprised mewl rolls off his lips.

“What are you doing?” he keens, placing his hands on your head to tug you away.

You hum around him, licking and sucking off the sweet tasting cum coating his cock. The vibrations feel intense around his length, forcing his hips to lift again.

Oh how heavily he is breathing, how much he squirms.

“Please”, he gets out and mewls, “please, sensitive, please”, he pleads, trying to tug you off of him, which only ends in you taking his hands and pinning them into the sheets besides his hips. You put your weight on them, making it impossible for him to flee (one has to remember that he could easily lift a truck if he wanted to, he could very well flee but he doesn’t want to).

“Please, sensitive. Hurts, please”, he begs, coughing out a squeaky moan as his soft, little dick gets sucked clean by your hungry mouth. He is still so delirious from his first high and being brought over the edge in such an intimate, safe way and now he has you forcing his cock to remember what pleasure feels like. Yoongi was so ready to fall into the afterglow, but you are keeping him burning. It feels hot, fiery and torturous.

“Sensitive”, he gets out, wiggling his hands even if you pin them down with your fingers squeezing around his wrists, “holy shit, why do you wanna torture me?” he keens, kicking the sheets with weak legs.

You are high. You seriously are. This is the best feeling ever and he tastes so good that you wish to taste nothing but him from now on. His soft cock feels so good in your mouth. So fragile and sensitive and made to be ruined by you. He fits so perfectly in your mouth like this. So well in fact that he can fill you out comfortably while your tongue explores the softness of his balls.

“Oh god, please”, he is begging, squirming away and fighting your grip as best as his shaky arms allow him to. And despite all of that, he is starting to grow hard again. Rapidly if one may add. So quickly in fact, that after a few hungry flicks of your tongue against his balls, he is filling out your mouth so well that you can’t reach them anymore. You cup them in your right hand instead, using your left hand to caress his tensing tummy. It is so sticky and wet from his first orgasm. His hands reach for your head instantly, making you chuckle because it was so predictable.

“Nuh-uh”, you hum around his cock, pinning his hands into the sheets. He grabs your hands, squeezes them as tightly as possible and then lets out a high-pitched mewl.

“Please, this is too much”, he gets out, arching his back, “fuck, please.”

You moan around him, grinding your tongue against his cock as you bob your head up and down. He is almost completely hard again. Of course he is, because he loves it. You know your boyfriend. He might whine, but he loves being overstimulated.

You must admit that you never did it with your mouth before, at least not like this, but there is always a first for everything. After all, you love trying out new things with him.

Now swollen and hard in your mouth, it is difficult to fit him down your throat entirely. Especially in this position. You concentrate your attention on his first two inches. They are the most sensitive after all and you love having them in your mouth.

“A-ah”, Yoongi lets out, dropping your hands to instead twist the sheets. His hips are lifting off the mattress again, but this time around it wasn’t from overstimulation but pleasure. You got him hooked again. Even if his legs close around you and you have to push them apart.

“Mhm”, you hum and giggle, looking up at him with sparkly eyes and his cockhead on your tongue.

He is looking at you with his lids heavy and his cheeks flushed. His hair is a total mess, sticking to parts of his face.

“You’re hard again”, you say and lick him hungrily.

“It’s, it’s ‘cause you f-forced me to, to get hard”, he is stuttering, barely getting the words out.  

“I’m sorry, kitten. You’re so yummy that I can’t help myself”, you rasp and take him back inside, granting him one more second of eye contact before the position naturally breaks it. You close your eyes, sucking his tip and swirling your tongue as you move your head up and down slowly. He should really bask in those sensations.

“Fuck”, he gets out and moans shakily, dropping his head back in the pillow, “what did I do to deserve this?” he whispers and makes yet another sound of pleasure, sounding so good doing it that you have to look at him for a moment. You jerk off his cock as you do, pressing the thumb of your right hand down between his balls to give him just a small hint of pleasurable pain.

“Ngng”, Yoongi lets out, arching his back, “ah, a-ah, hah. Ah.”

“You deserve this because you’re my beloved, pretty kitten”, you tell him, increasing the pressure.

“Ah. Ah, ah hah, ah, a-ah”, Yoongi can’t stop making noises. What a total difference from the once reserved and quiet reactions he gave you during the handjob. You are soaking up those reactions like a woman starved.

“And because you’re my pretty kitten, you deserve to cum over and over again. Are we clear?”

“Thank you”, he mewls, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He feels so good. All he wants to do is thank you for making him feel that way.

Your heart flutters. He is adorable. And he looks so wet. His pink, velvety cockhead is covered in it. You have to taste him again.

You lower yourself back to his cock with the intention of not lifting yourself again until you have him creaming your mouth.

“Thank you…ah”, Yoongi moans, dropping his back in the sheets as his hands naturally reach for you again. Both of them. It’s so cute that he gets so touchy when he is being sucked off. He holds your head gently, but never once uses the grip to guide you. No, he merely wants to hold you because sometimes he doesn’t believe that the pleasure you make him feel is real and he has to make sure that it is.

Your mouth is so warm and soft, your tongue is even softer and so, so wet and your fingers know exactly where to squeeze and touch. You have also grown so confident in your skills.

Bear in mind, Yoongi always thought that your head game was amazing, but he can really tell that you are confident in it these days. Back when you started out, you only really dared to go further than his first two inches when you were drunk, but these days it seems to happen naturally. One minute, he has your tender lips kissing and sucking his cockhead and the next he is hitting the back of your throat while a deep moan vibrates in your chest. You don’t need to be drunk anymore to deepthroat him, it happens naturally.

And Yoongi hasn’t decided yet if he hates it because of how utterly ruined it leaves him or if he loves it because of how entirely blissed out it makes him feel. Maybe a little bit of both.

“Oh god, princess”, he moans, closing his legs again as hot pleasure shoots through them.

You chuckle around him before slipping off. You push his legs apart again, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Stop closing your legs”, you tell him, following it up with your lips nibbling at his tip slowly. Every now and then you dart out your tongue, giving him a glimpse of warm, wet heaven.

“Sensitive, I can’t help it”, he says, eliciting a happy giggle from you.

“You always are”, you are teasing, “what’s with you?”

“It’s ‘cause you feel good”, he says and thrusts his hips, “more please.”

“Mhm ‘kay, but only if you don’t close your legs again”, you say, taking him back inside.

Yoongi rests his head back in the pillow, throwing his arm over his eyes as a breathy laugh slips past his lips.

“You feel so good”, he gets out and moans with a smile on his face, “fuck.”

He drops his legs on the mattress and wiggles his toes, meeting your warmth with a soft roll of his hips.

“Yeah, that definitely tops everything”, he whispers, placing his right hand on the back of your head to caress it.

You love how warm his touch feels and how gentle his thumb runs over your head. It makes you want to perform even better for him, go deeper and make him feel a thousand times more ruined. You slide your hand to his balls and begin massaging them as your mouth slowly but surely sinks down on his length.

“Yes, god”, he gets out, rubbing his legs against your body, “fuck baby, I’m sensitive.”

“Mhm”, you purr around him, which doesn’t help him at all. He just ends up twitching in your mouth while his legs rub against you in a desperate squirm.

“You don’t give a shit, do you?”

You shake your head, wiggling his cock down your throat that way. You hum when he is oh so deep inside you, sending a jolt through his legs. His fingers twitch on your head, trying their hardest not to push you down further.

“Fuck, you’re torturing me”, he gets out and laughs, arching his back.

You love when he is like this. When he feels so good and safe with you that he laughs during sex. To think about how he started off and how it’s going these days. You love this development, having to moan around him as your left hand slides under his shirt. You walk your fingers up his tummy and ribs, stretching them out on his pecs so you can rub his nipple.

His laughter stops, a loud gasp for air replaces them. He chases your touch, sliding his arm from his eyes to instead hold your hand through his shirt. He squeezes it gently, rubbing his legs against you needily.

“Fuck.”

There was no ounce of amusement or laughter in this word. Just desperate pleasure and the disbelief that something so amazing is actually happening to him.

“Yeah, god…that’s….fuck, princess.”

Maybe you like this kind of voice just a little more. Don’t misunderstand, you love when he laughs during sex. But when your touch hits just right that he feels so good that he can’t even find it in himself to laugh anymore to instead moan, definitely feels extra special. He spills his pleasure on your tongue with a throb of his cock. His taste is amazing.

You glide off of him until you can suck on his tip. Your lips fit so nicely around it. Like his cock was made to be sucked by you. He rewards your eagerness with new droplets of his sweetness. Truly, he tastes so good. You hum around him, sucking harder.

“___”, he moans, following it up with a roll of his hips, “___ baby…love, this is…fuck.”

You love that he just can’t stay still. He is an expert in lounging. Sometimes when you and he cuddle, you have to check on him because of how still he can get. And now he just can’t stop squirming and touching and rubbing himself against you. It’s so incredibly adorable to witness. 

You slurp up the saliva which has began running down his length and swallow it hungrily. There is just a little bit of his taste in it. Not enough for your liking and so you take his cock between your fingers and apply pressure on his swollen vein. You know just how to squeeze and rub that he leaks onto your tongue. 

Sweet like honey. There must be something magical in his taste because you get so needy for it that it gets hard to breathe. 

You slip your lips off of him, staring at his tip. It is deep red in colour, courtesy of you sucking his soul out of his cock. Your fingers glide to it and begin squeezing just right to milk him of his translucent goodness. 

“Fuck, jesus, you gotta- hrng”, he gets out and lets out a deep growl, throwing his head back as best as the position allows him to, “honey, fuck.” 

“You’re so wet for me”, you taunt and squeeze more out of him. You love how his cock looks when he leaks for you. So pretty and wet. How wonderful. 

And while he growls and gasps, you let out a chuckle. It is heavy in crazed pleasure. 

“You’re such a wet kitten”, you rasp and finally connect your tongue with his cock. You grind the flat of it over his slickened tip, ending it with a throaty moan and a flick of your tongue. You flutter your eyes at him, even if he isn’t looking, “you’re my fucking addiction”, you lull and sink him into your mouth as far as you can take him. 

Only once he is deep as you can go, you begin moving. Fast and harsh. You drool all over him, spill tears instantly and find it just a little harder to breathe but it’s so fucking worth it. 

Yoongi moans and he moans loudly. So fucking loudly. His hips roll off the mattress, his hands reach for his own thighs and squeeze hard to prevent them from falling closed. 

“Holy shit, holy fuck. Princess love. Fuck. Ah! Aha baby ah.”

Your left hand is working hard on keeping his nipples as sensitive as possible while your right hand holds his throbbing cock in place. If you wouldn’t, it would just be way too hard to keep the rhythm going.

“You have to stop or, or else I’ll- ah”, Yoongi throws his head back, arching off the mattress, “I’ll cum down your throat, please stop.” 

He is so polite. Even now when you are so clearly derailed in pleasure, he is trying to warn you. He is such a gentleman. Oh how you need this man to literally pump your stomach full of cum. Yeah, you are really derailed. 

You pinch his right nipple, keeping it between your fingers to massage it harshly. The pleasure swirls down his body and goes straight to his cock. 

“Please I have to cum, I don’t- ah”, Yoongi shudders and arches his back, “can I cum in your mouth?”

The switch up is so fucking hot. To have him go from begging you for a break to begging you for the chance to climax down your throat, it’s so hot.

You hum around him, nodding your head. 

“Really? Please. Ah- fuck, ___ please.”

You moan and go deeper, nodding your head with more vigour. 

“Thank you”, Yoongi croaks and drops into the sheets. A second later, you feel his seed shoot down your throat and his cock throb in your mouth, “holy fuck yes.”

You wanted to swallow everything, but didn’t take into account just how hard your boyfriend cums. It ends up spilling out of your mouth and you working quickly to try and slurp all of it up. You love every second of it, feasting on his taste with a pounding head. 

Yoongi pulls you off of his cock once overstimulation sets on.

“No more. Serious”, he chokes out, following it up with a breathless, “you’re fucking insane. What the fuck.”

You are so dizzy, nuzzling your nose into his soft inner thigh. 

“Fuck Yoongi, you taste amazing”, you lull in a raspy voice. Your throat hurts just a little from getting it creamed so good.

“I’m dizzy”, he confesses, rolling his head to the side, “princess…”

You kiss your way up his body, staying at his neck to cover it in gentle love bites. His taste still lingers on your tongue, making you dizzy. Yoongi purrs and rolls his head to the side, nudging your temple with his nose. A kiss follows.

“This was amazing”, he lulls, smiling against your skin, “you’re the best, my love.”

“Yeah?” you giggle, lying down beside him with your leg draped over his waist and his arm under you. He closes it around you, running his hand up and down your back. You can look at each other so well like this.

“Mhm, yeah”, he says, staring at your lips. He reaches up and swipes his thumb over your lower lip, “you got a little something there”, he says.

“Oh? Oops. Thank you”, you say.

“Mhm”, he hums and guides his thumb to his mouth to lick it clean.

“Hot”, you mumble.

Yoongi lifts his brows at you playfully and slips his thumb free with a bop of his lips.

“It’s the least I can do”, he says, giving you a lopsided smirk. He is so good at doing them.

You nudge his chest, letting out a very ungraceful snort. Yoongi thinks it’s the most beautiful sound you ever made, soaking it up happily.

“You’re dumb.”

“Why?” he asks in a chuckle.

“Because you’re being flirty, you know exactly what this does to me.”

“What? You gonna suck my cock again?” he jokes, making you snort again.

“God”, you fluster, dropping your head in the crook of his neck. You rub yourself against him like a cuddly cat, “Yoongi”, you giggle.

He chuckles deeply, sliding his hand to your lower back so he can press you closer to him. You feel so warm between your legs. He loves the feeling of it against his naked thigh.

“You know what we should do today?” he asks.

“Wait. I wanna guess.”

“Do it.”

“You’re gonna say cook together, eventhough I literally told your stubborn butt last night that you don’t gotta cook for me all the time.”

He laughs. Wholeheartedly and loudly. You join him, lifting your head so you can look at his happy expression. He laughs with his mouth open and his eyes squeezed shut. You love this kind of laugh on him.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” you stress, nudging his moving chest. It rumbles in his laughter.

“Yeah”, he says, nodding his head, “fuck”, he ends his laughter with a deep chuckle and a shake of his head, “why do you know me so well?”

“Because being loved means being known and I love you, which means I know you”, you say, grinning when he rolls his eyes at you.

“You’re so cheesy”, he says.

“And you love it, so stop rolling those eyes at me.”

He smiles, “sorry, you’re right”, he says and runs the back of his hand down your cheek, “my love”, he whispers and smiles, cupping your cheek.

You smile, leaning into his palm, “you’re my love too.”

He studies your face with lovedrunk eyes. A soft smile curls his lips. 

“Do you want me to return the favour?” he asks. 

“Mhm later, as a little break between work, yeah? I’m so hungry you have no idea.”

“I just fed you.”

You laugh. He laughs too. 

“I hate you for making me laugh.” 

“You loved it.”

“Yeah sadly”, you say and study his face. Especially his pretty lips, “okay actually. Can you give me one orgasm?”

He smirks. Fuck, he is so hot doing that. His eyes lower playfully.

“Of course I can, princess. Let me take care of you”, he says, picking you up to fix your positions.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Favourite aftercare

This is separated into things he likes to give./vs receive

Namjoon: Likes to leave the scene, moving to a separate area with snacks and water and soft clean things. Spends some time just observing his partner to monitor their demeanor and try to assess what they need for aftercare then he is happy to attend to any needs they have like cuddling or affirmations. Will want to debrief especially if something new was tried./He likes to be reassured after, wants his partner to give him a play by play so he can talk through his emotions. He is jut really big on communication for both receiving and giving aftercare, it's a known fact he shuts down when his feelings dip and while sometimes its an effort to get him to talk through it always makes him better.

Seokjin: Big cuddle man, but also likes a clean space. If its a preplanned session he probably has towels and such on hand ready to layover any soiled sheets because he is too sleepy after to do more than move a towel on top but he tries his best. He also litter his partners with kisses./ Wants to be adored, worshipped if you're willing. Not as fussed about the mess if he is subbing but does appreciate help getting clean, in the shower, or just with wipes if his partner is as sleepy as him.

Yoongi: likes to run a nice bath and then sit with his partner and talk while they are soaking, not necessarily a debrief, just asking about their day and other mundane things./Prefers to just switch on TV and chill, he still likes to perform acts of service after he has finished being sub with reassurance of how well he takes care of his partner. Prefers to make an after sex snack himself to share with his partner.

Hoseok: Likes to give massages to ensure there are no tight muscles following sessions, even vanilla sessions, it reassures him to check his partners entire body and maybe worship it in the process./ He just likes to watch TV, maybe have a sweet but he is pretty easy going, a quick bit of quality time and he is set.

Jimin: Busy body. Worries too much about subgroup potential and insists on trying all forms of aftercare almost every time until his partner insists on a rhythm back. You have to watch him for dom drop if anything and just let him do what he needs as long as you feel safe./ Baby him. He is the hyung of the maknae line and nobody babies him enough, he needs to be properly cared for and ensured love in all forms possible

Taehyung: Kinda lazy with his aftercare, he means well but he is sleepy, so he is nuzzling in and worrying about the mess later. lots of skin contact, possible cockwarming because he says he enjoys the feeling but also maybe isn't ready to deal with the mess that comes with pulling out./ Likes others to do all the cleaning for him and provide him with affirming words as they clean, telling him even though he can be so lazy that they love him and dote on him and that he should just sleep while he worries about caring for them.

Jungkook: Won't happen immediately but he will get peckish and then goes overboard on cooking, maybe like 30 minutes after a session. With the amount he is fucking and cooking, he and his partner are spending a lot of dates in the gym, or at least he is... he isn't overly fussed about the fact he is making his partner gain weight, he thinks it's cute that he can take care of someone so well they put on a couple pounds (as long as they are healthy)./ Love him, cuddle him, tell him he is the best boy in the world and that he did such a good job that your not sure how you ever got off with out him

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.60)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, the word 'r*pe' is used to describe what Geumjae did to her but there are no graphic depictions of it, allusions to physical abuse, graphic violence, there is a brief moment where someone not in the pack touches the m/c's ass without her consent, blood, briefly implied suicidal actions- but it's nothing like what you haven't seen before.

W/c: 12.6k

A/n: i'll be attending my cousin's wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before <3

Previous part ~ Masterlist

You dab at the skin under your eyes carefully. You know they must look red and puffy. Tae’s careful instruction to treat your skin well as all good baby pups should has somehow stuck.

Even here. Even now.

“Do people like always loose it with you? Like when they walk in, do they all cry?”

Your therapist (yes, your therapist) across the narrow room is the opposite of threatening; soft face, pulled back hair, neutral clothing that might just as well be out of a country living catalog.

You don’t know where Jin found her, what little medical booklet he perused like a take-out menu, or how much her services cost per hour. Those kinds of details were not for delicate little pups like yourself to worry over in his opinion.

Most of the time, you're glad not to have to worry about things like this. But right now you're chomping at the bit. Weighting your odds. The other unknowns hover before you. One sticks out. One you're most concerned about.

Is she trustworthy?

Nothing about Dr. Rima seems outwardly threatening, yet you curl in on yourself. She smiles, scrawling something on the top of her notepad before she answers, and something taught in you ticks tighter.

“You’re correct in assuming that most people I meet cry in the first few minutes when they meet me, but you are the first person to cry on my threshold. Most of the time people wait until they’re at least in the chair.”

That has a smile tugging at your lips, albeit unwillingly. Your smile is like a leashed wild animal, with too many teeth when you feel threatened. Contained for now.

If you got up and walked out right now, would she call someone to restrain you? Will you be committed if you tell the truth? Or are you just misinterpreting the stakes?

You are here of your own volition. Even if it was a condition that Jin and Namjoon weren't willing to budge on after the events of last week. It's not like the pack is having you put in a mental institution or something, although they did come with you today. For moral support.

The waiting room was stuffy and yellow, one of those little waterfall mirrors in the corner that you’d watched in a fog sat between Yoongi and Jimin while Jin filled out the necessary paperwork. His pen hovering over the small boxes every few seconds. He'd taken the afternoon off of work to make sure he was there, just to fill out paperwork.

Are you on any medications? Do you have a history with substance abuse disorders? Do you have any intent to harm yourself or others?

Sending glares to anyone who dared to come too close, Jimin had looked and smelled threatening. You're not sure he’d have let you go into an isolated location with her if she’d been an alpha. Jin too had looked close to snapping.

yoongi was the only one who looked somewhat calm, althoug his hand was tightly laced with yours (and a little sweaty)

It’s a wonder that the rest of your pack had agreed to stay home for this. This was just one of several concessions you’d made after what the pack has politely begun referring to as 'sad pup time' during your more vulnerable moments, and blatantly 'your breakdown' during less fragile ones.

But sweet words or not. The facts remain; You are here in this chair after a nearly tearful departure.

You’d met the therapist in the doorway, shaking in your boots, and upon being separated from your pack with the promise that they’d be just downstairs in the lobby, you’d followed her inside.

Yoongi had made a noise in his throat, making you turn back. Dr.Rima turned to watch as he’d pulled you in for a last-minute hug, ducking down to your level. “One hour, okay? We’ll be just downstairs. Text me if you need me.”

His eyes were heavy-looking at the stranger. Unwilling to let you go just yet. A little stalwart, a little standoffish.

“Take good care of her please. She’s very precious to us.”

Precious.

That much was evident by the nearly three-page document that both your pack alpha and omega sent through once Namjoon and Jin had selected Dr. Rima as your therapist. Dr. Rima has quite a bit of experience dealing with overprotective pack alphas and pack omegas. Let alone a pack alpha and pack omega who have such a clinical background.

Yes, you must be well taken care of. At least on paper.

She’s already itching a little, to get her hands on all the others. Packmates and their names are written out, as a part of all intake files. Large packs aren't so common anymore. Her eyes fix on one name; Min Yoongi (beta, mate) unemployed.

The big windows help it feel not so small, on the second floor, the trees block out most of the view of the park below. A small voice that sounds like Hobi whispers that it’s a shame she doesn’t have any plants in here, they'd do so well with all of this natural light.

Your knees clack together a little, moving listlessly, the anxiety in your body begging to be released somewhere.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t we start with why you wanted to come in today.”

You avoid her eye contact, looking instead at the tops of the trees, you don’t know why they haven’t changed color yet, all of the trees on your street are half bare already. She has a smooth inoffensive scent, but you’re mated to a beta so you know what to expect when it comes to the relaxing effects, the subtle haze at the edge of your vision. It must come in handy, having the biological upper hand, when it comes to patients in distress.

If therapists are rare, beta therapists must be even rarer.

You can practically hear Jin, “Nothing but the best for my pup.” There is a part of your brain that won’t ever turn off, appraising everything around you. The designer pumps that she wears. The knickknacks on her desks, there are no photos of any packs that she might call her own, just a pink calendar in the corner.

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too &lt;3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

The pack has kept you substantially plied with little solutions since your breakdown last week. They haven’t let you rot like usual. They’ve kept your days full of little activities; nothing too extravagant or tiring. Letting you rest when you need to and encouraging you to get outside of your comfort zone when it’s clear you’re giving in.

It comes down to that more often than not; giving in or not giving in.

Not giving in looks like trips back to the beach with Hobi. Like going to the salon with Tae and shopping with Jimin. Or another workout class with Jungkook where you’d spent more of the time lounging on the yoga mat than actually moving your body. But you'd still tenuously agreed to sign up for more classes under the encouragement of Wonho and Jungkook.

And now twice a week, you’ve got a mat to call your own during any classes, in the back, if you decide you want it. Your callender hasn't felt so full in years, it feels strange, to have something to do during the weeks that isn't just scraping the bottom of the barrel and doing house chores. Strange in a good way.

Not all of the pack's solutions aren’t silly but sometimes, silly is a good way to push out the dark.

The morning after your breakdown; you'd watched your pack work, fighting back a flush. Sitting at the kitchen bar stool while Yoongi applied painter’s tape to the floor, not intent on keeping back paint this time, but marking it off for you.

You’re a little bit more determined this morning although your first night without nightmares in a little over a month had kept you in higher spirits. You feel more well-rested than you have in ages.

“You don’t need to- I promise- I’m not going-“ but your requests had fallen on deaf ears. Worry building until Jungkook stood up fast grinning up at you, pupils wide brown pools from getting scented stupid this morning.

(Scented stupid, you'd been scented by the pack too, had struggled a little against it, too shy as Namjoon dragged his throat along yours, squirming until yoongi held you down a little, checking with you each few seconds that you wanted that, that your squirming was really just needing to feel a firm touch, a dominant one.

You will go nowhere until your pack have had their right to you, scenting you up, making your scent gland tender and swollen under their teeths and tongues.

It felt so much better to be made to handle it, each of the pack, even hobi, hovering over you to scent you with their wrists and throats. until you smelled so claimed by them that you couldn't breathe without smelling it- Pack.

Jungkook had pouted until he'd gotten the same treatment, although the omegaspace haze had lasted longer on him than it had on you.

He stands up so fast that his hair fluffs. Catching himself on your leg with a giggle before he topples over. grinning up at you before pressing a sleepy sloppy kiss to your knee and then another to your lips,

“No pup zone!" Omega Space Jungkook can get a little bit ridiculous even at the best of times. He's got a case of the morning omegaspace zoomies as he giggles and nips at your nose. You playfully push at his chest. He doesn't budge.

"Your whole face is a no-pup zone." The dissatisfied pur-chirp he'd let out had sounded half hurt, half encouraged.

Namjoon had eased your discomfort. Pulling you from the stool to lean back against his chest, fingers drumming out a rhythm on your legs as Jungkook huffes into your throat.

Having this failsafe- this rule, does not mean that they think you’re going to fail, these are guard rails to keep you on track. Namjoon looks down at you, his full bottom lip tucked a little, not a pout but close. “This is the easiest solution, if you don’t go near it then maybe, maybe it helps.”

His fingers drum against your skin again, and you lean back into him. Uneasy but willing to let him soothe you.

So yes, you’ve been banned from the kitchen, banned from crossing that line that runs from the edge of the coffee stand and just in front of Tae's library room, to the island and over to the fridge. Unless there is someone else close by. You are not allowed here without supervision.

It’s a simple solution, limiting you from the place that you use to hurt yourself. Never mind the fact that there are dozens if not hundreds of other possible avenues you could use. Your creativity knows no bounds when it comes to pain, but you quiet that part of yourself when the desire for hurt gets loud.

You can’t say it hasn’t helped. But then again, the pack has kept you so busy since your breakdown that you haven't had any time to think of hurting yourself let alone put any plans into action.

Across from you, Dr. Rima waits expectantly.

"It was kind of triggered by this thing that happened."

The tip of her pen bobs a little as she writes. “Could you describe the event to me? Or is that something you're not ready to talk about?" You nod and she waits patiently. It takes you a breath to answer.

“A little less than a month ago one of my packmates and I found a dead body."

You feel a little vindicated at her inhale of breath. Wide eyes that say yes- that is something traumatic, yes, it's fair that it kinda triggered you into a more fragile state.

"It dredged up a lot of feelings about my past. Before that, I was kind of starting to feel s-safe which I haven't like, ever been able to feel."

“And your packmate?"

There is new treacherous wetness balancing on your waterline. “Hobi’s a lot stronger than me, his past and mine are really similar but he just- handles his better. A lot of the time it feels like I learn from him even though he’d tell you the opposite is true. He’s my best friend." Your voice goes quiet, "I love my mate more than I love anyone else, but sometimes- Hobi just- gets me you know?" You go a little misty-eyed. Hands tightening on Hobi's sweatshirt.

“Yet he’s not the one sitting in my chair right now.”

You close your eyes, "he's not."

“For what it’s worth- you can have more than one best friend.” Dr. Rima writes as quickly as she can, taking it down. “How long have you been romantically involved with him? Who came first, your mate or him?”

You jolt forward, “Oh no- we’re not- Hobi and I aren't-" You take a deep breath to clarify. "Everyone else in the pack is together but Hobi and I are just friends. We all have our like… little units?”

"Primary partners." Dr. Rima offers.

"Yeah, that." But even that doesn't really cover it, because while Jin and Namjoon are JinandNamjoon and Jimin and Tae are JiminandTae. Jungkook is everyone's problem (in the best of ways) and you and Tae are something else too. The pack's girls the rest of them would say.

(You and Hobi are, well, YouandHobi.)

It sounds weird to say it once it comes out of your mouth. It makes an odd choked feeling lodge in your throat. Too much hope and too much shame for hoping blooming in your chest.

“I don’t know if I want to talk about him.”

She folds her hands over her knees, setting her pen down. Dr. Rima has chubby hands, disproportionate to her body. They look like they'd be soft.

She reminds you of your mom a little bit.

“That’s okay, we can talk about whatever you want. What you want and need is going to be the focus of our sessions. You’re the pilot here. I’m just here to help you interpret your thoughts and feelings.”

She folds her hands over themselves, setting her pen aside, “Why don’t we talk about the last time you remember feeling safe.”

"Physically or mentally?"

"Either, you can choose."

The rest of the session passes frightfully quickly. You can’t say that you don’t cry again. When you finally talk about Geumjae, her smile quickly dissipates. You talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw. Until you’ve depleted the whole box of her tissues. She shows you she's got more hidden under her desk when you apologize, her secret stash gets a laugh out of you.

“The fact that your pack omega filled out your paperwork isn’t the most unusual, but his preference for daily meetings or every other day is a little bit on the nose for a pack omega, I’m wondering if you share his preference.”

“He’s just overprotective.” She eyes you like Jin has good reason to be. You don’t blush this time, a little more comfortable with Dr. Rima than you were at the beginning of this. “I think maybe more than once a week but not every day.”

“How does Monday- Friday sound?”

~-~

When you walk to the door with Dr. Rima Yoongi stands abruptly from his chair.

You can tell by the shiny edge to his to his scent that he doesn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. He gets the information about your next appointment and then tugs you out the door.

Jins got his legs crossed, fancy leather shoes glinting in the sunlight by the windows. The lobby is buzzing with people coming and going. This building isn't just a therapy office but a collection of other businesses with a few shops and restaurants on the ground floor as well. He looks up and double-takes when he spots you, not standing from his chair, but he opens his arms and you fold yourself along his side, conscious of the other eyes but this.

This you need.

You press your face along the column of Jin's neck, breathing his cream scent in deep.

“Oh pup.”

Your red-rimmed eyes are too obvious and you sniffle wetly, “It was okay, I like Dr. Rima.” He laces your hands together and resists the urge to pester you with questions. Yoongi's hand is still tangled in the hood of your (Hobi's) sweatshirt. Your therapy sessions should be yours and only yours. Yoongi and Jin do not have Dr. patient confidentiality.

And yet the need to know if that helped burns through them. They won't have to wonder for long.

By the coffee stand, Jimin waves and he returns to you when the barista hands over a bag of sweets and a quad of cups. Jin continues scrawling something out for another second before he’s standing and pulling you in for another chaste scent mark.

“Let’s go home.” It's somewhere between an order and a request. But no one disobeys.

On the drive back (37 minutes total) you're a little quiet. You let the sounds of the others be your buffer. You look down at your phone and stare at Hobi’s texts. You respond with just a little heart emoji when you finally still can’t figure out a good response and you're close to home.

Home is its usual conflagration of moving bits and pieces. Each of your packmates is like a shiny cog in a pretty clock, tick tick tick tocking along. Tae and Namjoon are at the table looking through some of the pack’s bills, the pastries and coffee cups litter the table with little piles of powdered sugar and cinnamon. jimin bought enough for the whole pack.

You look at them a little too long, although not because you don't want to eat them. It’s been a while, a few weeks since you’ve made something like that, but every single one of the pastries is something you know how to make. You don’t know why you keep looking at them.

Tae smiles at you, still in the doorway. and it makes you feel a little less like you want to burst into tears. Her voice speaks of the quiet time you have in the library (the tenderness of having someone else do your makeup, another person combing your hair). You hope you'll get some dedicated one-on-one time with her soon.

"Hey little lovely, How was it?"

"She put me through the wringer but I think she got some suds out."

She and Namjoon giggle and you smile small. and you can tell that Namjoon wants to ask you more but he doesn't after a pointed look from your mate. There are footsteps in the hall and before you can move to take off your shoes Hobi is standing in the archway.

Yoongi efficiently strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt with a frustrated huff. It's Kind of like he’s trying to peel away the sadness (your clothes are soaked with your sour scent, rainy and unhappy. Regardless of Jin’s scent mark, you kind of stink).

You might have overheard their words just before you got into the car. Jin's hissed admonishment. “A lot of people cry during therapy Minnie, she’s not in trouble, can’t you smell it?”

Your scent is mellow underneath the memory of your distress, going sweeter by the second. Yoongi wants all memories of your sad scent banished from the house. Hobi stands at the door to the hallway, shifting back and forth, his eyes a little warmer than usual, hands shaking a little bit.

You’ve caught him looking at you a lot since the night he ran away, in the quiet moments when he thinks you’re not noticing. Eyes a shade warmer than usual, a sweetened franticness to his scent. Nervousness and happiness mix like blueberries and whipped cream.

When he pulls up beside you during movie nights and sits thigh to thigh with you. When his hands intertwine with yours over his knee or sometimes or when he pulls your legs sideways across his lap. He looks at you like that when he's doing the small things and he's looking at you like that right now.

You know how love starts, that it starts with the small things.

Hobi resists the urge to open his arms. would you come to him? Would you fold your body along his front so that he could feel your heartbeat? Pressing again and again to the opposite side of his chest with every thump?

He doesn’t say hey, but he does step a little closer. Fingers reaching out. The pad of his index finger slides down the meat of your pinky till it reaches the ball of your wrist. His own special hello.

Your breath hitches, just barely, almost imperceptible if it wasn’t for how close he stands.

A look behind you says Yoongi hasn’t made himself scarce, instead fussing with the pack's coats. Now that it’s getting colder, they don’t all fit by the door. You look behind Hobi and find Namjoon watching the three of you, he raises a singular eyebrow.

“How was it? Bad?” Hobi asks, breaking the silence and the tension, drawing your attention back to him. The next breath you let out is a lot less heavy, and your eyelashes flutter as he steps closer. Hobi smells good, a little earthy, mellowing out his usual sweetness. Sweet for an alpha.

“It was kind of hard, I kinda wanted to run away for a bit at the beginning." You can't keep meeting his eyes with how intensely he's looking at you and they flutter down to his hands. "I almost did.”

"I'm glad you didn't pup." Jin comments, full of reproach, the mirror to you and Hobi as he leans down to press a kiss to Namjoon's forehead. Shucking off his lapelled jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt.

“If you’d have called me, I’d have picked you up. We could still like- run away, if you're down.”

But the house is starting to heat up, and Jin and Yoongi are starting to cook. The light is still honey-yellow happy. And you tip your cheek into his arm. He finally- finally lets his arms settle around your waist.

“Nah, not yet.” You drag out the syllable all playful, and something forbidden stirs in Hobi’s gut. “Jin’s making my favorite tonight. not until later?”

Hobi goes silent, pulls back, biting his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes down. and-

You laugh and Hobi blushes. “Just spit it out.”

Everyone’s been a little bit touchier with you since that night (a little more overbearing too). You won’t immediately chalk Hobi's touchyness up to what you're all thinking. But the affection makes your scent gland feel tender. Zinging when Yoongi steps up behind you and nuzzles into it, huffing again.

Friends can hug each other after therapy right? Hobi swallows thickly and you feel it against your collar bone as he pulls back and steps away from you. “I ugh- got you a present?”

You brighten up instantly, and Hobi's anxiety increases tenfold. A bit of casual mischievousness on the edge of your lips that always have Hobi feeling like he’s being teased even though he knows he isn’t.

“Oh? A present? You’ve never gotten me a present before!”

He kicks at imaginary dust bunnies, fighting back what he knows is a noticeable flush. “I ugh- still owe you, from the car you know and honestly it's not even like a big gift it's like- so small in comparison and-”

Yoongi huffs and continues to disrobe you. Pulling your sweater over your head when he’s not satisfied that your unhappy scent has dissipated. Muttering something like. “hopeless alpha” under his breath. Your tank top pulls up, inches of your hip and skin on display. It's nothing that Hobi hasn't seen before and yet the blush reignites. The sunshine to your morning glory.

“I guess you're right.” But it doesn’t feel like it. Hobi doesn’t owe you anything for that, not when it was so easy to give. Not when you’ve gotten so many late-night drives from that gift.

Hoseok got the idea for your courting gift, one morning while watching you say goodbye to Namjoon:

The pack alpha has always been a fan of goodbye kisses, good morning, and goodnight kisses too. The particular kiss that morning had ‘I’ll miss you’ written all over it. It was so pretty in the way that you lingered, arms around Namjoon’s neck. His hand is underneath your shirt on the small of your back. Such a small touch and yet so gently possessive that it had Hobi aching to see it.

Hobi is unfortunately prone to jealousy and it turns the back of his neck hot. Makes his hands feel oddly tender. He's distracted by the visual, the task of packing up his work bag forgotten. Hoseok’s shift at the flower shop doesn’t start for another few hours, and he’s waiting, watching, an unhappy voyeur.

You and Namjoon have quite the height difference, if he was in between the two of you he’d be the perfect middle ground. That’s just another stupid thought, another stupid thought in the countless number of stupid thoughts that he’s had. (I like my alphas a little pathetic, and nothing's more pathetic than an alpha pining after an omega.)

He grumbles.

Yoongi prattles on, more awake than all of them as he outlines what you have to do today to make progress on the house- which is to go find a place that sells cheaper tile than the ones you first thought of using in the bathroom on the first floor. And maybe change it up a little.

The bathrooms escaped the renovations somehow, and a few nights ago- Jimin had admitted how much they actually use it even though it’s not the pack's primary bathroom anymore. Now that it’s not in use, they’re more willing to part with it for a few days for some very necessary re-styling. it toes the line from vintage to old a little too hard. The yellow is a little…yellow.

Yoongi wants to go light and airy with the color scheme, like he did with the upstairs bathroom and it's seafoam and brown tones. But like with most of the house, your vote is for colorful. “How about a light blue-” Yoongi continues to argue while you kiss Namjoon a little senseless in the doorway, at least Namjoon seems properly dazed, chasing your lips when you pull apart.

“No- we don’t have a room that’s magenta yet!”

This starts the same argument as always; “We can’t make every room in this house pink for Tae.”

But goodbyes take precedence, and when you turn back and smile at Hobi he flushes, shy to be caught looking. He moves, stepping around you and Namjoon to put his water bottle into his bag when you shout, “Stop, Seokie!”

Seokie is a new nickname, one that Jin only uses in the quietest of moments that you've somehow adopted when you don't want to call him Hobi. Hobi always thought that if you’d use any other nickname with him- you’d use daisy (he might want you and yoongi to share that pet name). But he’s a good pup and stops what he’s doing. Every atom in his body every electron no longer circulates neutrons but circulates you instead. Pulled in by your gravity.

You’ve moved so suddenly that you’ve spilled a bit of your coffee onto the floor. Maybe kissing Namjoon has left you feeling a little dizzy too. Yoongi just sighs fondly and wipes it up. Jimin looks up from his phone, smiling when he sees.

“You’ve got a rainbow on your cheek.”

It’s a trick of the light, early morning sunshine refracted through the mottled window just right to cast a single rainbow on the wall and on Hobi when he steps in front of it.

You cup his cheek, finger skimming across where the rainbow sits.

"Pretty."

Hobi feels hot all over.

At Tae’s call of, “If I have to do my eyeliner one more time I’m going to scream!” You giggle and dart away from him. Going to tend to Tae with a soft reply of "I've got you baby."

Hoseok is left, blushing in the morning light. Staying still like you might come by and cup his cheek again, Like a flower staying still in the hope of pollination.

Hobi is left, wanting to scream and somehow demand you back, both would be fair. His plight isn't missed by his packmates, who lean in like a set of jackals, grinning ear to ear at hobi's flustered predicament.

She's going to send him into rut if she's not careful Jin thinks, but doesn't say. instead he teases, “You’ve got to leave in the next ten-minute Hobi.”

Only then does Hoseok move- released from his spell and finally losing the rainbow on his cheeks though they might as well have stayed with how happy and warm he feels. How absolutely incandescent the love is glowing in his chest. A full spectrum of feelings, longing for you to come back.

He almost trips over noodle, darting after you with his tail raised high, catching himself on the edge of the couch at the last second, one shoe on and one off, his water bottle falling and spilling in the process.

yoongi sighs, and stoops to wipe it up. Jimin giggles and pulls Hobi up by his hips, the alpha's fingers feel hot where they've touched him, scalding. “What’s wrong, omega got your tongue?” yoongi returns to his breakfast, throwing the wad of soggy paper towels into the trash.

Jungkook laughs, “It’s more like he wants an omega to have his tongue in her-“

“You guys are gross,” He pushes at Jimin’s shoulder finally moving right. Yoongi hides his smile in a mouthful of Captain Crunch.

Hobi doesn’t think about the rainbows again until his next afternoon shift. When the low angle of the autumn sun cuts through the windows and catches the suncatchers that they hang in the doorway of the flower shop and cast more rainbows- dozens of them really across him and the flower.

He remembers when you came to visit, how you'd lingered over them, looked at them a second longer than you looked at the plants.

It’s a bit of a kitschy display. Other polished stones and nick nacks sitting on the deep shelf along with some smaller potted plants. A little tray of rose-quartz stones falsely advertises themselves as ‘heat reducers.’

The colors start to blend, and the rainbows sway softly in the light, gentle and pretty. He snaps a photo and thinks about sending it to you, but doesn’t.

The store is blissfully empty of Hobi's coworkers when he selects three of them. It's quiet when he packages them in tissue paper, one with a huge pink stained-glass moon at the top, another with three tiers. Each of them is delicate and pretty in their own right. No one’s bought a single one of them in the last three months anyway. They'll hardly be missed. Hobi gives himself a fat employee discount.

Hobi is unfortunately bad at hiding things, especially when he's nervous. Luckily the pack alpha doesn’t have it in him to tease. Namjoon had in fact been only too encouraging and given him a pep talk just this morning about courting and courting presents.

“The worst that can happen is that she doesn’t like it- and then you just have to try again which you were already planning on doing anyway.” Namjoon is quite simply the best at courting. It doesn't matter which subgender; alphas, beta’s, and omegas have all fallen under his touch. At least Hoseok has the opportunity to learn from a professional. Somehow the thought that you'd compare him to namjoon doesn't cross his mind.

Hoseok isn’t good at the romantic gestures that courting necessitates. He’s more of the ‘there when you need him’ kind of lover. Ready to make the small changes to make his loved ones' lives more manageable. Ready with his car keys for adventures. Those parts are easy, this is out of his depth.

Especially when it comes to you. Even After the love confessions, (are confessions still confessions if they’re so internal?) Hobi feels mostly unmoored. About to shatter upon unknown shores.

God, crushes are so frustrating (in the best kind of way, the way that keeps you sighing and daydreaming, the kind of way that makes you look in the mirror a little longer).

Tae helped him half an hour before she started on the pack's paperwork. They'd spent an hour deciding which places were best to hang them to get the greatest number of rainbows. She had even fussed with his hair a little to make it lie right. Having him hop up on the couch so she could see Hobi's face from your angle.

Hobi wanted to make sure there were at least one or two rainbows when he shows you. But when he leads you to the sunroom, his hands over your eyes (the same position you found yourself in when Namjoon surprised you with the nesting pod) there are more of them than there were when he set them up, whole constellations swaying softly.

The suncatchers are pretty and twinkly sparkly in the golden hour light, and your lips part in a simple show of awe when Hobi tells you you can open your eyes. It's so bright, they send dozens of little rainbows across the walls and your nesting pod. Over the white couch and the fig in the corner.

It’s very very pretty. and when you turn back to look a thim, Hobi once again has a rainbow on his cheek.

Your eyes twinkle, but you don't say anything. you stay quiet for long enough that Hobi gets nervous. his anxiety makes him talk fast. “I hung them here- but you can put them wherever you want- in the kitchen or upstairs or I can get you more for any places you want to put them- or- or- ”

You just about tackle him, arms looping around his neck resting your weight in his arms that instinctively grip around your waist. Hobi teeters, unsteady with such a heavy heart, toppling both of you onto the couch as you cry. "I love it!"

You’re sprawled not lying across him but his hand goes out to support the way you cling and rub your face into his chest, a happy little chirp slipping past your lips.

The wild thing in Hobi’s chest settles, settles, and curls around you. Tight and protective like a vice. You pull back, and your smile is just as bright.

Hobi sags, and rests his neck back against the couch, "Good- thank fucking god- I was so fucking nervous-" You fiddle with the buttons on his flannel, it's one of Yoongi's. It seems fitting that you steal his clothes and he steals Yoongi's.

"What brought all this on?"

Hobi doesn't have a good answer, in the quiet with the rainbows, or at least an answer he's ready for. He doesn't say that this is a courting present, and he doesn't need to because instead of answering your question- he replies with one of his own.

“Wanna go for a drive later?” he asks, voice tremulous like he thinks you might refuse him. You’ve never said no to him before, never said not tonight only not right now. Do you treasure our little talks the same way I do?

“Sure, after dinner? like I said? Just-" You lean back against his chest, and Hobi’s hands go tight tight tight around your waist. Holding you close. Clingy. He does not slip his hand under your shirt to cup the side of your hip the way that Namjoon might, but the thought crosses his mind.

Hobi is a good alpha, he won't cross that line until you tell him it's okay. Until then a thin layer of fabric separates his skin from yours. You're still warm to the couch.

“Sit and watch them with me?” You ask quietly. Almost shy, like you think he’d refuse you. He nods and the two of you sit on the couch to look at the rainbows together.

Eventually, Noodle finds the two of you, meowing and hopping up to stretch out along your thighs. Worming his way between the two of you.

The rainbows don't last forever, but Hobi sits with you until they fade.

~-~

Tae’s library is just like every public library:

Tall windows, wide quiet shelves with room for the stories to breathe. A colorful young adult section and an even more colorful kid’s section. A bit aways from the tables and computers so that any over-excited pups don’t disturb the adults. Big deep beanbags for small children to cuddle up to while they ponder fairy tales and adventures only a plastic-covered book away.

Tae’s long plaid skirt barely makes a whisper along the ground. The colder weather has allowed her to live all of her cottage core fantasies, her dark academia aesthetic truly flourishing. Her shirt is a little translucent today, and the fading summer tan of her skin pokes through it in spots where her tank top doesn't hide. Pretty long earrings dangle and clink in the quiet while she works on her shelving.

Wearing her chosen clothing items at work has been a bit of a work in progress.

Most of Tae’s coworkers approve of her transition in that overly willing-to-be-an-ally way that middle-aged women who generally consider themselves progressive outside of closed doors all do. And the ones that don’t approve have swallowed their words with lingering sour eyes and raised upper lips after the general receptiveness to Tae’s social transition.

It's hard to know who's genuine with it, who just doesn't want to cause a fuss, and who just doesn't give a shit. But most of the time her outfits get one or two compliments and thats it. Tae would rather them say nothing than anything negitive.

Tae likes the quiet of the library at this time of day, the silence gives her enough room to let her imagination wander. Tae likes to file away books in mid-morning, when there are fewer people around and her humming is less likely to disturb any of the library’s patrons. She sings to the stories and they sing back, tempting her with every well-worded title and delicately chaste summary.

But she doesn’t just think about stories or the book she's writing (her book is currently giving her hell on the 30th chapter) No. Today- there is a much more interesting love story blooming in her head, in the pack's den too.

She’s been thinking about you all morning (Tae thinks about you almost every morning) there are even little poems scrawled on the edge of her newspaper. Lines that are you and a bit of Hobi too.

I wished that I might be your hair clip / to know what it feels like / to be pressed against the nape of your neck/ To be your suntan/ perched on the edge/ of what you show everyone and what you show no one/ To be the bearer of every freckle/ like the sky holds the stars/ To hold and never let go/ Like birds hold sunshine / and flowers hold songs.

Everyone had noticed of course, how much time you and Hobi have been spending together.

The pack had even talked about it during a quiet moment without you and Hobi. Yoongi’s lack of communication regarding you and Hobi. “I don’t know anything” he’d unsuccessfully lied, and nearly been heaved up and wrestled to the couch as a result. But Jungkook’s puppy eyes had unsuccessfully endeared him.

Yoongi has kept Hobi's secret, but it's kind of hard not to notice. Tae isn't a fool. Tae is a much better liar than Yoongi is- because when you'd come to her after your late-night drive to gush with her about Hobi and the rainbows over makeup. She hadn't said anything about what she knows.

Tae couldn’t tell you how many times she’d noticed little touches, Hobi’s hand lingering on the small of your back, grabbing your waist when he moved behind you in the bathroom. When he take the greatest care to set out his sweatshirts in the morning and even asks Jungkook to make sure they’re clean. They’re practically not even his sweatshirts anymore with the amount you’ve been wearing them.

Tae isn’t an idiot, she knows that Hobi’s finally realized it. While she doesn’t trust herself to play matchmaker given how poorly the first time she pointed out Hobi’s attraction went. that doesn’t mean she’s not going to park herself firmly on the edge of her fantasy land with a box of popcorn.

If they were gonna get married, would Hobi wear a red tux or black or grey? Her brain is already thinking of wedding dresses. One of these days she’s really going to have to make a Pinterest board. Hobi would probably want to do sunflowers, and that might clash with the red unless it was a fall wedding- ooh, and what about pearl details and daisies? a beach wedding might be a little too on the nose for you.

Tae is so absorbed with her shelving and her daydreaming that she doesn’t notice the sound of small shoes on the carpeted floor. Nor does she notice the light-up flash of tiny iorn man sneakers. Her musings are easily interrupted by a small tug on her skirt, shy almost. She startles a little, looking down at the sudden touch.

The little pup's thumb is wet from where it was clearly placed behind their bucked teeth. He's got wide brown eyes and soft-looking hair, Tae can't stop the smile that comes to her lips.

“I wanted to read a book but I couldn’t reach, can you help me? Please?”

Tae’s heart swells as she leans down to the pup's level. “Of course, I can! Why don’t you show me what one you wanted,” diligently Tae follows the little one a few isles over, tugged along by their insistent pulling as he tells her about the pretty cover.

The little pup turns back, furrowing his bushy brows up at Tae, “are you a princess?” he asks. Tae almost has to laugh, a bright happy gender euphoric feeling filling her chest, that feeling of I could be filling her.

She makes her whisper just a little more hushed, playing along, “Don’t tell anyone okay? It's a secret.” The little pup nods, eyes darting around like there are dragons that would threaten her.

“What gave me away?”

“Princesses wear long skirts!” the pup says cheerfully, like it makes the most sense in the world. He's a little too loud and Tae winces. He finally finds the shelve with the story. The spine glimmers pink and gold and Tae is unsurprised to find the illustrated copy of Cinderella. Not the Disney or PJ version, but the Brothers Grimm version.

Tae cringes at the pair of doves on the cover.

Tae doesn’t say that the little pup is too small to read a book so big, or that there is one with more pictures much more appropriate away from the young adult section. The child can’t be more than 6 years old.

But still, Tae retrieves it and delivers it to their waiting arms. The little one clutches it to his chest, thanks Tae, and then promptly plops themselves onto the carpeted floor right there.

He opens the first page, huffs, and then looks up at her imploringly.

“I just realized I can’t read.”

He pouts and Tae melts. Tae wonders where the pup's mother is, but really, there certainly can't be much harm in this. This isn't the first time Tae has been guilted into reading a story to a pup while their parents work or make use of the library's computers.

"Just the first page.” She intones, caution for the child’s hopes in her voice, she presses her skirt under her knees and sits on the scratchy carpet. The pup curls close to see the pictures. Resting his tiny chubby cheek in the billow of Tae’s big puffy sleeve.

Tae's chest is all tight as she reads. The pup is very well-behaved, he pauses, and asks questions in a soft voice only when Tae gives him space to respond. Tae easily ommits the parts that aren't appropriate. but tae finds herself watching the pup a little bit more as the minutes stretch.

In a few years with your own little ones around, will Tae become the defacto bedtime story reader? Will she do this with the pack's pups one day? Will she be the one to take that bright little light in their eyes that imagines things as greater and more and cultivate it? Her cheeks feel warm at the prospect, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings in excitement.

Your pups and Jin's pups too- they're gonna be so loved. Tae's gonna be the best mom to them, The best alpha too.

One page turns into two and then three. In this quiet corner with only Tae’s voice as ruler and god, the little pup hinges on every word. Until there’s another voice close by. An adult not wishing to be loud, a whispered name.

“Jae?”

Tae smiles up at the woman at the end of the aisle of books. Her smile turns sweeter when Jae hops up and runs to press his face into her jeaned thighs. Tae remembers how that felt, how every scent besides Tae’s own omega mother felt overwhelming and icky.

Tae stands with a crack of her knees and makes to hand over the book, “This makes a great bedtime story until about chapter 8, that one you might want to skip until he’s a little older.”

The woman makes to smile, but it only goes so far. Tae watches in perfect detail, everything in slow motion, as her eyes flicker down to Tae’s Addams apple.

She drags her child close by their wrist quicker than Tae can blink. Tae sees the moment that the child realizes this touch isn’t gentle, wide eyes going fear-stricken as he's tugged behind her back. And then it's all downhill from there.

I'll spare you the more vile bits.

But the saddest moment of the argument that follows (Which involves not one but three of Tae's co-workers to calm down the hysterical woman whose screeches echo around the quiet library) is when the pup tries to get his mother's attention. "Mom, I liked that she was reading to me."

"He" the certified Karen hisses, moving in a way that makes the pup flinch back. "-should know better than to corrupt a pup with such- such-" her eyes dart down and up, and Tae's skin burns. "Disgusting behavior."

The misgendering doesn't even sting. What does hurt is the eyes peering in. She isn't being quiet and it's causing many of the library's patrons' attention is diverted. Tae's coworkers have put themselves between Tae and the woman. But there still aren't enough people (enough packmates) in between her and the verbal tirade.

An hour later, after the woman has left after threatening to call the police, Tae talks with his boss and his boss’s boss. The room behind the front desk is glass, and he knows that the door doesn’t keep the sound of their raised voice out.

“I wasn’t harassing her child; I was just helping him find a book for Christ sake!”

The worst part is that this isn’t the first time that this has happened. No- since Tae came out there have been two other complaints leveled against her from bigoted patrons. Both right at the beginning before she got the hang of presenting how she wanted to.

At least those confrontations weren’t face-to-face. At least those complaints didn’t end with someone threatening to call the police and a pup cowering, tugged along too roughly out the door.

The little pup had glanced back at Tae, mouth in pout, eyes swimming with tears.

Even if the woman felt righteous in her anger, the least she could have done was not yell in front of the pup. Tae promises herself right then and there, that she'll never raise her voice in front of the pack's pups, not in anger.

The book has stayed on the counter at the front. Pink and gold and treacherous. Tae hopes that if anything, the pup finds it and reads the ending one day. Stories have a way of finding us, even when the world makes us let them go.

Now in the back room behind the check-out counter. Tae’s boss levels her with an expectant look, the kind that people give when they don’t want to be transphobic not really- it’s just so hard for them not to, so learned. Tae is the nail that sticks up. It’s bullshit really. Tae can tell it's bullshit before she opens her mouth.

“Really? He asked for Cinderella?”

“Yes.” Tae’s biting tone is an alpha’s tone, not a man’s, and yet she knows how it sounds.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m not lying.” Is Tae supposed to only help some children find the books they want? Is she supposed to look at them and make her best guess if they’ve got homophobic parents and skip them over? It’s not her fault that the sweet sweet pup’s parent was a bigot.

“I can’t help but feel like- you’ve got a personal agenda-“

"Charlie-" the district manager cautions.

Tae can’t stop herself from snapping, alpha anger sparking with the intent to burn. “Little boys should be allowed to read Cinderella if they want to” Rats and all. Her hands are shaking, and it isn’t missed by them. The room smells thick with Tae’s spicy cinnamon anger.

The district manager sets her hand on Tae's shoulder, and her anger ebbs just a little. “I think maybe you should go home a little early today, just to cool off. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”

Tae doesn’t want to go home early, Tae doesn’t want to go home at all as she packs up her books. Her bag lighter than usual, absent of the stories that she wants to take home. For once there aren’t any that she wants to read.

She walks to the train station because Jimin won’t be off work for another 2 hours and that’s when he’d usually pick her up, the last three days he’s gotten her flowers too; white roses the first day, pink the second, and red the third. She sends him a text.

Tae <3 (1:48): I left work early today, you don’t have to pick me up, I’ll get an Uber home.

Mini-alpha (1:49):!!!!!

Mini-alpha (1:49): What happened? Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? I can leave now.

Tae sighs, looking down at her phone while she waits for the crosswalk light to come on. Red still, green in a few seconds, she only has to wait. She can practically feel Jimin's nervous energy through the phone. it's a wonder he doesn't immediately call her.

It makes her soft. It isn't in Jimin's nature to give any of his lovers any space but he always makes an effort when it comes to her.

Tae <3 (1:53): No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you when you get home.

Tae doesn’t want to talk to Jimin about transphobia again. At least not yet. It’s too much energy. It’s not that Tae doesn’t want to make what happened during Namjoon’s rut better. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk about it- it’s just that there’s nothing to talk about, the explanation of his actions are such a burden for Tae to bear. And Tae trusts that Jimin’s heart is in the right place even if he makes mistakes. And even telling Jimin off, yelling at him, wouldn’t change it.

Either one day Tae will not have to deal with bigoted parents, either one day she’ll pass and won’t have to worry, or she'll always be in this awkward middle ground.

Trans people are like toupees, you only notice them when there’s something off, something a little misplaced about them. Tae fears that most of all. Femininity, as much as she wants it, as much as it's hers to take, what if it won't ever fit right? What if she never passes?

Tae loves her job at the library, it’s the perfect mix of boring and safe and easy even if it doesn’t pay enough. But even as she's gained things like skirts and puffy sleeves, she's exchanged them for days like today. Really, the library was her favorite place before today and now, every step away from it makes her feel a little lighter. She's not even angry anymore, just exhausted mentally.

Tae decides to walk home at least she’s in her most conservative channel flats, they could use a little bit more wear and love and Tae’s thoughts are still too sharp. She dulls them to a palatable edge that all falls apart when she gets home.

You’re there, thank fucking god you’re always there when she gets home. You’ll always be Tae’s comfort person.

Tae opens the door with a creek and push of cold air, you're saying something to Yoongi turning with a toss of your hair, eyes brightening when you see her before you've even said her name.

You look a little healthier today, with a little bit more of a rosy glow to your cheeks and a healthy brightness to your eyes, not all glassy.

"Tae! You're home early!"

Tae will never stop being proud of how hard you try, and will never stop being a bit envious either because Tae-

Tae looks at you and wilts, bag flopping onto the floor, and predictably burst into tears.

"Oh- oh Tae."

"Baby girl-"

You and Yoongi are just about the best security blanket a packmate could ask for. You're so good as you pull her down to your level so you can kiss away her tears, maneuvering her like a perfect team onto the couch. Yoongi's strong hands slide off her shoes. Yoongi's fingers digging into her sore heel as you kiss away her every tear.

A substantial amount of babying and a Sos packmate in distress text later, and Tae is reclining across a freshly fluffed nest, the muscles in her body relaxed. The blisters on the back of her feet are bandaged and kissed. Every inch of her body is too.

You don't talk about it until after the pack's facemasks are finished, and hobi's clear coat has dried over the tiny nail sticker that you left. a small bumblebee.

Your skin smells sweet after a long long bath full of fancy bath bombs. Jinnie had also rubbed oil onto her freshly shaven legs. You helped, dragging it along oh so carefully to not nick her skin. Ending each pass with a kiss to her ankle and then upper thigh.

Tae’s head is in your lap now, cheek pressed against your (slightly chubbier) thighs. Her sniffles the background music as Tae gives her final recap of what happened.

Your nose gets a wrinkle in it when you go cross. "There's so much meanness to the world, I hate how people have to add to it."

Jimin’s anger leaves an undercurrent in the air, dragging the other alphas along, Hobi’s hands are strong where they dig into Tae’s shoulders, belly down in the nest while you play with her hair, braiding it back and forth. The attention makes her feel a little tingly.

“Do you know what her name was? Did you get a look at her car-“ Jimin asks, nearly barking. The library has cameras. Jimin knows it does.

Jin sets a hand on the back of his neck, a scruff threatening. “Down pup. Tae doesn’t need you to track them down.” Jimin’s teeth look particularly sharp in the light. For a face so soft he has quite the mouth on him.

“They made her sad,” he growls, but it's softer, more pointed as he crouches over her.

Namjoon’s quiet voice unlocks the whole world's worries, massaging gently down the column of Tae’s delicate neck, rough hands, worn tender touching her regardless. Namjoon is rarely ever so pointed, but it's logical, from an alpha's perspective, Tae knows what he hints.

"I think that if your bosses aren't going to protect you from people like that, then I want you to leave your job." Jin gives him a look like, 'Now you know where I'm coming from' but Tae's the important packmate right now.

Tae rolls Namjoon's words around her tongue, her hand loosely twined with his. Namjoon has the steadiest hands out of everyone in the pack and a few minutes ago he repurposed his surgery skills to do her nails. Took off the chipped red and re-did them because Namjoon knows she feels best when her claws are polished. He checks them now. Tapping them lightly to not smudge them.

It's a girl's night, the first girl's night you've ever had with the whole pack. Tae's face is still glossy from the face mask.

“I don’t think I want to quit; I don’t think that would help at all that’s not going to like- solve the world and all its issues.”

“No, but- if it’s making you more sad than happy. Then maybe it’s worth considering.”

Tae knows Namjoon’s not saying that she doesn’t make enough to affect the pack's finances, but that's still the truth. Hobi pulls himself along her other side and you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Hobi presses a kiss to Tae's temple, “All you want to do is write every day anyways, and we just want you to be happy,” 6 heads nod their agreement.

Hobi isn't wrong; The last four weekends in a row Tae has woken up several hours earlier than the pack would usually stir from morning cuddles, just to get a few hours of uninterrupted writing done. She’s also spent nearly every night in her library room, staying up late after the pack has retired upstairs until one of you comes down and wrangles her upstairs. The pack's prettiest alpha needs her beauty sleep.

But is it enough to count on? Is it worth quitting her job over?

You duck down low, kissing the same spot Hobi did, your lips touching just a Tae away. a heavy breath wooshes out of her chest. "Yeah why wouldn't we want you to quit? If you're always here then I can always do this."

Your kiss is gentle, and it tastes like belonging more than Tae would ever be able to write, to describe. A love that makes you feel like you belong is a rare thing. And Tae's hand goes up to tangle in your hair, keeping you there for just a shared breath longer.

The next breath tastes a bit like freedom. It's scary to be free.

(But Tae leaves her 2 weeks' notice on her boss’s desk before the end of the next work day, and she doesn't feel bad about it one bit).

~-~

(1 year prior)

Maybe the truth is that the reason why you don’t feel you deserve agency is because you know what your agency looks like. The choices you’re willing to make when it comes down to it.

The secrets you tell and the lies you have buried deep in your pocket like one of Hobi’s found things. Something you can’t get rid of and cast back into the ocean. No matter how hard you try. There is something about murder that sticks, that stays no matter how many times you try to wash your hands of it.

It's not guilt, because you don't feel guilty for what you had to do.

Being backed into a corner can make someone do a whole hell of alot of monstrous things. And back then Life was monotonous. Back then there was Anguish without change.

Your life went like this: Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Meet up with Hyejin. Make poison. Make pastries. Go to the Don’s house. Feed it to them. Listen to Moonbyul tell you to wait. Go home. Get beaten again and again. Get raped every night. On and on and on.

Clean up your blood from the tiles. Clean it from the carpet. Hydrogen peroxide and not bleach. Cover the bruises up with color corrector first before you put concealer over them.

Smile and tell everyone that your husband and you are perfectly happy. There will be a pup on the way soon enough, I'm so lucky to have someone who supports me, and I'm so lucky to have a love like this.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Go to sleep and don't cry because then he'll beat you for keeping him awake.

In the darkness that curls around you. Blood going tacky between your legs, you start to dream of wicked sweet things.

What you've been through would be enough to make anyone go crazy, Enough to make anyone consider drastic action. Enough to make anyone consider murder.

Enough for you to slide a pair of small syringes off of Moonbyul’s night desk and a small packet of arsenic too. You know how to make a simple syrup. You know how to mix in arsenic to it, how to make it liquid soluble without breathing it in.

You make it in the fine china and break it after so that you can throw it out without worrying. You get a beating for it but you hardly feel it when Geumjae drags you across the floor by your hair. It hardly breaks your heart when he steps on your ribcage with the intent to break bones because you know what you have to do.

After, with your own blood on your teeth, you make sure to leave it in the bottom of the trash, and ask the cleaning staff not to take it out yet. They're supposed to find it.

You don't care if you die, you just want to make sure the necessary villains are punished. When it comes to blame the person who is most to blame is you anyway. You are simply numb to pain, numb to your own anguish. Numb to the idea of your own death too. Geumjae's already killed you in every way that matters.

Cut off a wolf's head and it still has the power to bite; give a girl an enemy and she'll do dangerous things.

Your meetings with the Don and beta always go the same; gossip, and greetings. Sometimes when you come bearing bruises, they tell you to wait just a little longer.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Just give it time for his temper to settle. Once you're mated it will get better.

Even Moonbyul and Hyejin tell you that planning the perfect crime takes time. That you'll be saved if you only wait. Help is coming.

Bullshit.

You’re tired of waiting for him to kill you, you're tired of waiting to die. You're smarter than all of them because you know exactly how to get everything you want and you're willing to do anything to get it.

The next time Moonbyul and Hyejin take you to the Don and Beta’s house under the guise of afternoon tea, you are prepared for war and dressed with revenge in mind. Your white dress knotted at the shoulders falling in a heavenly sheet, like an avenging angel, neither pious nor sinful.

You are a force of nature and nature does not ask when it takes lives.

What’s worse; the people that enable the abusers or the abusers themselves? Who is more to blame for the pain caused?

You are no longer hiding and you won't let them hide this time. The bruise on your cheek is purple and mottled, the rings of bruises on your wrists from his hands while he held you down.

When you smiled at Geumjae over breakfast this morning, there was only one thought in your mind.

You’re next.

Your agency looks like this; elegantly done hair your skirt a little short for fall. A basket of arsenic-backed goods in a basket as is usual. Fluffy pink cupcakes with the perfect Swiss meringue buttercream in little spirals.

A gentle smile at the beta when she opens her doors for you, letting the monster in, because you’ve been over enough times that she trusts you. You suppose that's your doing too, you've fooled her into thinking you're just another idiot girl who decided to marry rich and didn't bother to consider the strings attached. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, you bare your teeth when you smile.

Hyejin has helped on that front; over the past few months, she has taught you exactly the kind of conversation that the beta likes- the useless conversations about family drama, the small little bits that you let through about your husband’s opinion on which pup is marrying whom, which alpha is good or bad for the packs near dozen omega pups that aren’t mated yet. Which alphas are likely to be a liability? This kind of gossip is all information and strategy.

You might have lied in your call to her and told her you were fearful of one of the younger ones- and a conversation you’d happened to witness on a street corner, a shadowy figure that looked a little too severe not to be the authorities. Of course, these kinds of things have to be handled with discretion and ginseng tea.

The Don does not bother to turn down the TV when you walk in, sitting vulnerable in his recliner with his feet up. It doesn’t appear that he has any sort of inclination or plans to interact with you when you sit here at his kitchen table and talk. Instead, he lounges and watches his sports, loud because his hearing is so bad, nearly deafening.

It’s good. hopefully anyone nearby will not overhear.

You hope that if this goes south before you have a chance to confess that they find the letter you wrote at home; the one that says your husband is the one that put you up to this.

You know that the pack’s retribution will be swift, that any sort of alibi he has will be null and void with the evidence you’ve been leaving. A little trail of breadcrumbs that leads right into a pretty little grave for your husband. Even if you won't be around to see it.

You're already a friend of pain. You already find comfort in it. If they kill you (which they will) then at least it will finally be over.

You wait until the moment you know is coming, when the Don looks over his shoulder at you and comands “Be a dear and bring me one.”

You put one of your artfully created confections on a pretty gold-rimed plate and walk to his side, you lean over to put it in his lap as he indicates. the same way he does every time you come over with sweets.

The lingering hand on your ass is hardly abnormal. behind you the beta's tea cup clinks as she sets her tea down and says nothing. even though you know she notices.

He’s so busy coping a feel he doesn’t notice your other hand, going to the syringe duck taped to your thigh.

It happens quicker than the Don can blink. The most powerful man in the underworld can't be bothered to protect his life for a pretty little piece of ass. You smile down at him, and his hand squeezes the round apple of your behind.

His hand is still on your ass when you whip your arm around with as much force as you can and drive the syringe and plunger into his neck.

You must have hit something in his neck because he barely has a second to splutter before he’s going still and quiet. Mouth falling horrifyingly slack. His breath rattles and his eyes dart as his whole body is paralyzed near instantly, in the time it takes for his blood to circulate.

Two paces, swing, plunge.

The beta barely has a second to scream or stand to attack you. You are so much younger than they are. Your body might be fragile and frail but It’s still stronger than hers. Her brief scream is easily drowned out by the scratch of the TV.

She ends up on the floor, the icing on the cupcakes sticky as she falls into half of them, tossed onto the floor by your brief tussle as you straddle her struggling form. Her pushing gets weaker and weaker and she sobs.

It doesn’t surprise you when you see the black tracery of a dying mating mark itching up her skin.

One thing that the family had always been oh so careful of was to talk only in their mother tongue around you. Secrets are best kept when they’re spoken in foreign tongues. It was a way to isolate you. To make them speak English for you to understand felt like a beholden request. At one point It was a point of insecurity for you, always left out of the loop, always relying on your husband to keep you in the know.

You bend over her as her pushing gets weaker and weaker, the arsenic doing its job, causing numbness and the tingling of extremities before it causes paralysis and then coma and death. Your hair falls in a sheet over the beta’s face.

You’ve studied much over the last few months. Enough that you lean in close over her and speak your words in perfect Korean.

“You look so angry,” you croon softly, dragging a finger down her cheek. Spittle froths at her mouth as she breathes heavily. “You shouldn’t- if you want someone to blame you only need to look in the mirror.”

You lean in close until your lips brush her ear, “it's your fault you see- you're the one who lied" you mimic her voice, making it scratchy, "'just wait a little longer, it will be better for the family if you stay quiet." you laugh, "as if that where true, the only person it benefits is you. You where ready to let him hurt me and kill me if i just stayed quiet."

You wipe away a bit of spit from her lower lip, "You always told me how it was your duty to protect the family- but you only serve yourself. If you'd have done something, if you'd have helped me I wouldn't have had to do this. You just wanted me to shut up and die quietly.”

You switch back to English, “Well now it’s your turn.”

You watch her tongue go numb, paralyzed, but the poison hasn’t advanced far enough for her not to speak.

“Fucking- worthless bitch.”

You laugh and stand brushing some crumbs from your skirt. She’s already too weak to move, to shout, or fight you. You watch the light start to leave her eyes, winking out so slowly, like a dying star. But she still looks so pissed.

“You don’t have a right to be angry, you killed me first. You can’t blame me for fighting back.”

She gives her last breath and the TV plays on. Your shoe ticks her hand, her fingers twitching weakly. You watch as she gasps her last breath, a small smile on your face.

You sit at the table and turn the TV down. You wait a few minutes, but it quickly becomes an hour. You have yourself a nice little treat while you watch, turning the channel to a food network while you eat.

You really are a fantastic cook. The crumb on this batch is so nice you don’t even taste the metallic tang of poison. You eat through one, and then another, until the whole basket is empty.

Before you know it there is a concerned knock at the door. The lock clicks and turns when you answer it.

When Moonbyul opens the door, you laugh at the expression on her face. Licking the frosting from your lips. Even that is delicious.

She takes in their bodies, crumpled on the floor the frosting on your cheeks. The evidence. Both of them dying. A violence you cannot undo.

Her voice is somber. “Oh Pup, what have you done?”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

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Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

~-~

Notes:

this chapter is a very classic bily chapter, in the fact that there is a fuck ton of fluff and then bang the mafia bits just take you out. we needed to get back into the mafia bits of the story sooner rather than later though 💀

i felt like i was going a little too over the top with certain bits of puptalk in this chapter, but i really wanted to use it to show that like yeah- the pack has been treating her alot more gently since her breakdown, they've been babbying the fuck out of her, even if we don't get to see it :(

Hobi's texts are so???? Fucking cute?? He's so hopeless my god he wants to make her feel loved without actually saying it and i hope you read them and just go "oh, you're an idiot."

I have this whole elaborate backstory to how wonho's gym works with monthly subscriptions to classes where people can decide how many classes they want to take a week, ie gym dues for facilities and then discounted classes on top if they pay for it before hand, with several tiers.

this chapter almost feels clerical- this is definitely more of a set up chapter- where i needed to check off a lot of boxes, like hobi's courting present- before we go any further into the story. things are going to start amping up in terms of stakes pretty quickly.

That one part, where hobi is kinda malfunctioning after the m/c touches his cheek and everyone teases him feels the most representative of the pack as a whole. like that part where they're all replying- feels very real. i struggle a little to capture a sense of domesticity in concise ways, but i think this part is very tidy.

That little touch with hobi- where he touches her wrist and her finger, that touch has so much weight to it, i personally think the whole pack was tasting the sexual tension on the air, can you guys feel it too or is it all in my head?

idk why yoongi calling tae babygirl makes me so flustered but it does 🥵

i really wanted to work calling tae mommy into the chapter someway but tbh this chapter felt complex enough without it.

there is like- one plot hole in this whole story, and that is in the first chapter of the story when yoongi gets a call the person on the other line says "grandfather is dying." implying that his death wasn't instantaneous like this is shown to be. however, in my mind- the injections don't actually kill the don and beta but plunge them into a coma that they never wake up from- is this an actual possibility with arsenic poisoning- NO IT ISN'T lol, you're just going to have to suspend your disbelief for me.

the m/c has always been the person who killed the don and the beta- i've known this since like...maybe the 4th chapter? it wasn't in the og og plan for the story but almost everything in bily has been hammered out since then. and tbh you already knew she killed them just not that it was this violent! does this count as a secret???? idk! maybe!!!

she's a little murder baby just like minnie <3

[bangtanfanficarchive]

"how they'd take the virginity of their s/o when she's a virgin."

gosh i love your writing 💘

yes, i sure can! thank you for your service to my ask box *salutes*

NSFW BELOW THE CUT MINORS DNI

Jin

he just wants to keep it light. no stress. words of affirmation. "you're so perfect. your body is perfect." lots of giggles. sweet kisses. lots of foreplay. like...jesus, the man could spend hours with his head between your legs if you'd let him. your pleasure is of the utmost importance to him. just wants to make sure that you have an enjoyable and comfortable first time.

Namjoon

acts far too cool for school when you tell him this will be your first time. inside, though, bro is freaking the fuck out. his brain is going into overdrive trying to think of ways to make sure that you're comfortable and cared for while also making it not seem like a big deal...even though it is a big deal and...frankly, you end up having to comfort him. but the slow, gentle sex that culminates in your connected, tandem orgasms is well worth it, you both agree. once he gets over the initial first time stress, he just can't get enough of you. and you'll let him take whatever he wants.

Yoongi

lets you take the lead. he wants you on top, so that you can learn how to take your pleasure in whatever way you want. and he gets the perfect view of all of your expressions while you do just that.

Taehyung

you had told him weeks before, when things began getting serious. he hadn't forced you at any point. when it was clear that the time was upon him, though, he was dead set on making it special. i'm talking flower pedals, candles - the whole nine. it's sexy and sweet and thoughtful in a way that you're sure to not forget any time soon. he's methodical with his prep of your body, giving you at least two orgasms from a combination of his fingers and tongue before he ever considers breaching you. and when he finally does, he showers you with words or praise, kissing and sucking at your skin until you feel like you might suffocate with him.

Jungkook

it's just...so unbelievably comfortable. it's not as though he's dismissive about your virginity, when you tell him that it's your first time. he's careful with you, reverent, focused. but he doesn't treat you like glass. he's beyond eager to show you all of the ways that he wants to pleasure your body. once he starts, you better believe you're in it for the long haul. it's going to be nearly impossible to get him to stop.

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED BTS FICS OF JULY 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of july! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Alcohol Free || @blue-jisungs💕✅

↳ in which your best friend yoongi gets to know your secrets while you sip on various drinks. with each one, he’s more shocked… and amused.

Nothing’s Changed || @hoseokhasmyheartxx​​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ You and Yoongi have been best friends since college. The rest of your friend group wants to go on a couples’ trip, leaving you and Yoongi to share a room. But to your surprise, your room only has one bed… will the two of you be able to get through the week without letting the other know how you feel?

The Love Plaza || @mayolive-writes🔞💕✅💯💯

↳ Needing to take a break from the long trip to college, you and Jungkook are forced to stay at the only lodging available within 70 miles, a love motel. And much to Jungkook’s dismay, there’s only one bed.

Til You Make It || @jinkookspencil💕💔✅💯

↳ jungkook is startled when you call him in need of a favor... to play his dream role - your boyfriend - for a day...

Bet On It || @minisugakoobies🔞💕✅💯💯

↳ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

Lovin' You Right || @kookslastbutton🔞💕💔✅

↳ Your new badass neighbor won't leave you alone. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it.

5+1 || @joon4eva​​​​​​💕✅

↳ five times you wanted to tell Namjoon you loved him + the one time you finally did.

Baby Fever || @95rkives💕✅💯

↳ what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

Cherry Flavored || @jjksblackgf🔞✅

↳ You bet with your boyfriend that he can't handle more than five minutes of your tongue, but Jungkook never turns away from a challenge. You'll make sure to keep him in his place.

Moving In || @dreamescapeswriting💕✅

↳ (this was an anon req to the writer, short summary: yoongi leaves his stuff at oc's apartment, slowly moving in. shts too cute man)

Panties Over Pastries || @genkima💕✅

↳ you and your lovely boyfriend, Jungkook, decided to have a baking date planned for today ! I wonder how it turns out..

Spicy 'N Sweet || @thvhoe​​​​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ Jeon Jungkook is the perfect guy… to piss off your parents. He’s buff, inked up and the definition of their worst nightmare but hey, when love comes knocking on your door there’s not much you can do. It’s not like you planned on falling for him… it just kind of happened, and honestly, you're not even mad about it. Not at all.

The Boxer's Girlfriend || @i-am-baechu🔞💕💔✅

↳ Jeon Jungkook is known throughout Korea as the top boxer. He’s swift in his attacks and calculated with everything. He’s dangerous in the ring but he was also dangerous to his girlfriend, Y/N L/N. 

Cat Got Your Tongue? || @jessikahathaway🔞💕💔✅

↳ You were exhausted from schoolwork and just needed a chance to unwind. Jungkook, campus fuckboy, offers his services to help alleviate the stress from studying but is he going to cause more stress than he relieves?

Cherry || @peachypinkygloss🔞💕✅

↳ Jungkook has a crush on you and he does everything to conquer your heart (like eating your pussy whenever and wherever he feels like it).

Bunny Buns || @kittyscupcakeandbunny🔞💕💔🔄

↳ Jungkook needed to hide. He was on the run. And what better place for a bunny hybrid to hide then a Bunny coffee shop? How could he resist? You smelled sweet and looked nice. All it took was one smile of yours and a bunny bread and he was on all fours for you.

Moon || @hobeemin🔞💕✅ Pt 2.

↳ (theres no summary, and i suck at summarizing, but im a sucker for hybrid fics so that says sometime.)

Break My Mind's Eye || @flowerwrites06🔞💕✅

↳ Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal. 

Diamond Trail || @flowerwrites06🔞💕✅

↳ The theft of his most elusive and mystery possession leads to a web of trickery that threatens every large syndicate in the country. (alternative: Yoongis’ prized possession is stolen but he’s not the only gang leader being betrayed)

Distraction || @melancholy-of-nadia🔞✅

↳ After a series of circumstances leads you to be the assistant/right-hand woman of Bangkok's local thief/gang leader Min Suga, you're diligent in fulfilling your role in helping him take down Detective (& Underground Mafia Boss) Agust D. What you didn't expect in this role, was to catch your own boss reading p*rngraphic material during his free time and finding out there are consequences to distracting him.

Wishes || @i-am-baechu🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ After a long day of classes, Min Yoongi decides to take a break at the music hall that has become his second home. He walks in with his cigarette lit and his blank expression quickly changes when he sees a girl playing his piano. The moment their eyes meet, their lives become complicated and Yoongi blames himself for her future pain. Was the love we had honest? (i dont have a gang!au banner so its going in with the mafia!au. also yall already know im a huge sucker fore mafia/gang au's along with hybrids. its currently on going, but i know that i will be on a roller coaster while reading this series)

Devoted To Trouble || @jeonsweetpea🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world? (i dont have a spider-man!au banner, but spider!kook????? when yoongi said that this man will annoy him even at the age of 100, lord where is the lie. but also, we love a persistent & annoyingly cute man.)

For Glory || @mono-moonchilds🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ A fight to the death. No rules, no refs, and nowhere to run.

Monachopsis || @personasintro🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises (wasnt too sure what au this fic would fall under but i say it goes under the parent au cause min yoongi gon be a father whether he likes it or not.)

Seven || @joonberriess🔞✅

↳ “You know night after night, I’ll be fuckin’ you right,” or: “Girl hold on my baby daddy calling again.”

Unconditionally || @rmsrkive💔🔄💯

↳ for the past three, almost four years, it has only been you and your twins after having been abandoned by your ex-boyfriend. you expected it to remain that way for the rest of your lives until one day you accidentally run into one of his bandmates at the park 

Way Back Home || @solemnreads🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ "please tell me this isn't what i think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. you look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. you look into his eyes, broken and sad. you've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. but here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "yes...they're your children."

Wrong Time || @spideyjimin🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ meeting ten years later the girl he deeply fell in love with is something Jungkook never thought would happen. But here you are, standing before his eyes with a bright smile on your face as you walk through the massive lobby of his company. At that exact moment, he realizes that the two of you fell in love at the wrong time but is now the right time?  

Added Color || @bangtansmaus​💕💔✅💯

↳ Yumi was perfectly fine with not finding her soulmate yet. she never really cared about the idea of soulmates. she’s fine with just running her bakery and living with her brother Jimin and their two best friends Jungkook and Taehyung.

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[ugh-yoongi]

jewel hello hello!! congrats on the milestone!!!! i’ve been all up in my fluffy physical-touch-is-my-love-language feels and i was wondering if you’d be willing to drabble or headcanon bts’s favorite way to touch/hold/physically manifest in your space when they get home? so so so many congrats again :)))

mg hello <3 thank you for the congrats and the request, this was very comforting even if i am the most touch-adverse person alive <3

i enlisted bee's help bc she's a wizard and the best <3 @hot-soop

headcanons: bts as physical touch/affection

seokjin —

king of domesticity aka food as a love language

has dinner 95% done by the time you get home, so you have regularly scheduled back hugs while he's at the stove

doesn't strike me as super physically affectionate; would probably be more comfortable receiving it than instigating

would be a crime to let those shoulders go to waste, though, so put your head on it

wants you to put your feet in his lap while you're on the couch but DOES NOT want to touch them (rip taehyung)

big fan of forehead/temple kisses

strikes me as the type to link pinkies rather than fully hold hands and i love that for him <3

yoongi —

he is the #1 acts of service king and i will die on that hill

please hold his hand, though

and scratch at his scalp, please

and just know to do it bc he'd probably rather die than ask you to do it, and probably displays affection all wrong and semi-violently. bee said he'd tug an earlobe as a sign of affection and that's bang on.

has big "will gently scratch/rub your back as you're falling asleep" vibes

GENTLE SHOULDER KISSES!!!

whatever it is, acts like he hates it

(still makes you mixtapes/playlists, though)

hobi —

good luck peeling him off of you

completely goofy, over the top, exaggerated displays of affection

cheek/forehead/etc. smooches with sound effects, tickling under your chin, hip checks, butt smacks

honestly all over kisses; bee says behind the ear and i agree

always an arm over your shoulder; tucks you into his side when he hugs you

talks a mile a minute at you as soon as you're through the door

namjoon —

let's be real he is probably off in another world whenever you get home so you have to go find him; either off reading a book or in the studio

wherever he is, always says "hi, baby" (#1 baby as a pet name king) and lets you plop into his lap to tell him about your day <3

you'll be able to hear him coming a mile away when he gets home. probably won't admit it but loves when you meet him at the door. probably plays dumb like "ha ha how did you know i was there" but he's also holding a ripped grocery bag with all your food on the ground, so......

big big big "hand on thigh" vibes

also just big in general so i think he'd really enjoy feeling a lil delicate and protected sometimes? born to be the small spoon tbh

we all saw that video of him at hobi's album release party so big fan of a protective hand on your back/shoulder/etc. in group settings

alone, though — top of head kisses!

jimin —

we all know jimin is very physically affectionate but also very emotionally intelligent so he'd know when to rein it in and when to ramp it up

good day at work? kiss and let me hear all about your day. bad day at work? he's pulling out all the stops. whatever you want, you're getting.

and if either of you went out with your friends? get ready to spill and receive all the tea

tangled together on the couch/in bed vibes

also strikes me as the type to link pinkies so let's hope yours is smaller than his

blows you kisses from across the room so please accept them dramatically bc if you don't he will mime falling to the floor and dying of a broken heart

taehyung —

king of romance, king of affection

continuing the taehyung foot fetish agenda sorry but it's true: MASSAGES

would love to brush your hair for you. put on your lotion for you. doesn't know how to do hair but would love to practice different updos or types of braids, etc. just wants someone to fuss over and someone that will fuss over him in return.

another one that's zoned out when you get home — probably covered in paint or playing the saxophone or doing god knows what. never know what you're walking into

comes to find you immediately when he gets home, though. clingy (affectionate) vibes, but why would he ever want to be separated from his favorite person??

get ready for your house to become a part-time flower shop/museum bc every trinket suspiciously reminds you of him and he "couldn't help himself"

will kiss your hands/wrists/etc.

jungkook —

also strikes me as the type who's more comfortable receiving affection/physical touch than instigating

except we know he's also the jealous type so lots of little touches that let people know he's with you but not, like, possessive. he's got sense

playfully whiny and clingy. will drape himself over you to get attention

will draw little sketches of you when you're on opposite sides of the couch <3

please run your hands through his hair/scratch his scalp while he's gaming

NECK KISSES

will probably let you do whatever you want tbh. wanna paint his nails? sure. want to color in his tattoos with markers? love it, go for it. have a spur of the moment urge to bleach and dye his hair at 3am? don't even need to ask.

just wants to hang out with you <3

these are obviously all vibes so feel free to come discuss what i got wrong/right in my inbox!

[jinkookspencil]

like couples do | knj

you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....

description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3

wc: ~1.6k words

+

Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.

Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...

Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.

Fuck.

Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.

Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection… 

It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.

This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening. 

The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.

Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.

You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.

He had to answer.

+

to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?

to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain

to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember? 

to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon 

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)

+

The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.

“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”

“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.

“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.

“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.

“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.

“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation. 

Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”

“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.

“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”

Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.

“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”

Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.

"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.

"Oh, she’s pretty!”

"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."

"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"

"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.

"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”

“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage. 

“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….” 

“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."

“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.

“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.

“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes. 

“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 3 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: language, tense situations with dangerous vampires

wc: 5.1k

“We’ll be fine,” you tell Namjoon quietly. “Shake off the nerves. Let’s go be professionals.”

He looks at you like you’re a little crazy. Maybe you are. “No one’s ever done this,” he says a bit hollowly. “You know that, right?”

“Which part?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He laughs under his breath and starts to move forward through the decorated doorway and into the empty, echoing throne room. You hurry to catch up, keeping pace with him.

“Any of it,” he mutters, and then lets his face fall into something blank enough to pass as professional.

The throne room is magnificent, the ceilings impossibly high and painted with beautiful scenes of forestry and rivers. The royal family seem to favor a jewel-tone blue, as you find it in the draperies, the lush carpet that leads to the steps, and the cushioning on the thrones at the top of those steps.

The King and Queen sit straight-backed, eyeing you as you step cautiously forward, but you’re watching the prince, seated just slightly behind the Queen, flanking her left. He sits slightly sideways in his seat, mouth turned down on each side. He eyes the ceiling, not you humans. He gives off an air of cold boredom. 

He does not seem like he is in distress, in particular need of saving. 

His dark hair falls near his eyes in delicate waves, and his body seems to be nearly all leg. He’s beautiful - the most gorgeous man you think you’ve ever seen, no wonder he isn’t human - and you try not to gawk, or worse, blush. Unlike his parents, his eyes look human today - whites present and surrounding deep, beautiful brown irises.

You imagine he’d look quite haunting if he let them go into the swirling, all-black that is natural for his kind.

You are so caught up in your mental cataloging of the prince of Infracticus that you miss the sharp look that his parents share as you draw close.

As you reach the foot of the stairs, you and Namjoon bow in tandem. You realize you should have prepped him for this - the manners, the social expectations - and you’re relieved that he seems to be able to hold his own.

“Thank you for the warm invitation,” you say upon rising, casting your words towards the King. “We’re at your service for as long as you need us.”

The King nods once, looking you over. 

“So you’re the curse-breaker,” he says. “Welcome to Infracticus. We’re thankful for your presence.”

“It’s our honor to serve you,” Namjoon says.

“We were told you’re good at what you do,” the Queen says, her voice cool and even, putting the image of still water in your mind. “As long as you are here for your task, we promise your protection and offer our hospitality. Whatever you need, simply ask.”

“That’s very generous of you,” you say, eyes on the ground. “I promise I’ll - we’ll - work hard.”

“Your utmost discretion is paramount,” the King says, sitting forward to look at you more closely. “I must reiterate that the prince’s state must be kept absolutely secret. While it will be close to impossible to keep your presence here a complete secret, I ask that you stay in your quarters unless your staff are escorting you.”

Your stomach twists. You weren’t planning to go gallivanting around the palace anyway - for your own safety. But being told to stay in, even if your rooms are spacious and beautiful, feels a bit like being held prisoner. 

“If, somehow, you are asked about your purpose here,” the Queen cuts in, “the official response is that you were invited here as ambassadors from the human world, and that our work is confidential.”

You sneak a glance at the prince again as you listen. He’s watching you and Namjoon a little more carefully, no longer slouched in his seat. Instead, he regards you both steadily.  

“We understand,” Namjoon says, and you nod automatically, bringing your gaze back to the Queen. 

“Is there anything you need to begin your work?” The Queen asks, directing the question to you. 

You shake your head, considering. “Not yet,” you say. “I’ll have a better idea what we’re up against after I spend some time speaking with the prince.” You incline your head towards him when you refer to him, so that it will feel less like he’s being talked about instead of talked to.��

“Very well,” the King says, waving a hand as if you’re dismissed. “Prince Taehyung will accompany you to your rooms, and you can begin your work.”

You turn to the prince, whose cold expression remains unreadable, and wait for him to move.

The prince rises obediently, and you watch him carefully as he unfolds himself from his throne and takes the steps at a clip. He moves fluidly and gracefully, brushing past you and pausing near the doorway, turning to see if you’re following. 

You shoot Namjoon a quick glance to check that he’s with you, and you both give the King and Queen a respectful goodbye. Prince Taehyung waits at the door, expression cool and impassive. Servants scuttle out of his way as he finally leads you away, down a corridor back towards your assigned chambers, flanked by Dansoo and Satuel. 

At first he leads you in silence, his heeled boots striking the stone floors a few paces ahead of you and Namjoon. Eventually, though, he looks at you both over his shoulder and says, “Thank you for coming, and for your discretion.” 

His voice is low, calling to mind water - as his mother’s did. But his doesn’t remind you of cool springs amid misty mountains. His calls to mind the ocean, roiling and unknowable, deep and icy cold. 

“It’s our honor,” you repeat. Then, a bit more genuinely, you add, “I hope I can help you.”

Prince Taehyung continues in tight silence for another moment, and then says, “So do I.”

When the group reaches your quarters, the two guards take their place on either side of the doors. Prince Taehyung puts his hand on the door’s handle and pauses, looking back as if to ask for permission. You almost laugh. It’s his home.

At your quick nod, he pulls the doors open and leads you into the main room with the fireplace. He stands near the couches, casting his gaze around as if he’s impressed with the guest rooms. 

“Very well,” he says briskly. “Should I introduce myself more properly? I suppose I should.” He gives you each a sharp bow and then sticks out his hand to shake. “I am Taehyung of Rune, Prince of Infracticus.”

You hesitate, your right hand still bandaged messily with a strip of an old band’s t-shirt. He follows your gaze.

“Ah,” he says, realizing why you’ve frozen. “May I?”

Uncertain, you lift your bandaged hand. He reaches forward and unties the sloppy knot, letting the fabric fall to the ground. He holds out one hand expectantly, palm up.

You eye the gash and place your hand in Taehyung’s outstretched one. His skin is cool to the touch - not cold, but lacking any warmth.

He rubs his thumb over the cut, and it tingles so intensely that you’re tempted to wipe your hands on your pants, to try to rub away the sensation. But when he pulls his hands away you can see that the skin has stitched itself back together, your palm as markless as it had been when you awoke that morning. 

“Yours too, I assume?” Taehyung asks, and you realize he’s offering to heal Namjoon as well.

“I thought - only Cleaves could heal?” you stutter, your eyes on your healed palm. The tingling fades, leaving no proof that the cut ever existed.

Taehyung sends you a twisted almost-smile from where he stands with Namjoon’s beefy hand in his own slender ones. “When you have a bloodline as long as mine,” he explains, “you always end up a bit of a mix.”

When he’s done, Namjoon staring in quiet awe at his healed palm, the prince looks at you again. “Well?” he says, and it takes you a moment to remember that he’s here so you can work on unraveling his curse. “Should we get started?”

“Right,” you say, rubbing your hands together awkwardly. “I have some questions to ask you about the curse. Would you be more comfortable here, or in the study?”

“I believe we could begin here,” he muses, gesturing at the couches. Namjoon slowly settles in a chair the color of deep-forest foliage, somewhere between green and black. The prince heads to a wingback chair, crossing one ankle over his knee and leaning back, peering at you through tight eyes.

Guarded, you think. That’s how he looks. Wary, at best. Maybe even afraid - which strikes you as almost funny, since he’s not the bottom of the food chain in this room. 

Shaking yourself free of this thought, you duck into the little office they’ve fashioned for you and grab a pen and a pad of paper, knowing you’ll want to take notes as you talk.

“Okay,” you say, finally getting seated on the couch opposite the prince and taking a steadying breath. You cast a look at both men, who stare at you expectantly. “Let’s start with this - pretend I know nothing about the situation - really, it’s practically true. Tell me everything that happened. No detail is too insignificant, I can’t stress that enough. Start at the beginning.”

The prince twists his mouth to the side, considering this. 

“Everything that happened,” he repeats thoughtfully. His deep voice and the hint of accent cast the words as a little musical. “I woke up in a strange part of the palace with no memory of the night before, and then I was informed that I’d left Infracticus and murdered two innocent people. Is that what you need to know?”

He speaks evenly, but you sense fire simmering behind his words.

“What happened the night before?” you ask, fighting to stay calm, despite the very real danger of being tucked away with an angry Infracti.

He rotely recounts an uneventful night - dinner with his family, some time spent with his closest friend, a walk through the palace’s arboretum, a long bath in his own quarters. 

“How did you feel when you woke up?” you ask next, your eyes on your notepad. 

“How did I feel?” he echoes, a bit of a bite to it. His tone gets your attention and you look up at him. His brows are furrowed, his dark eyes - the whites showing, as they have been the whole time you’ve been here - swimming with fury. Across the room, Namjoon has leaned forward, alarmed. “How do you think I felt, hearing -”

You will yourself to stay steady. “Physically,” you clarify. “When you woke up - did you experience pain? Confusion?”

He’s experiencing confusion now - looking at you blankly, as if he doesn’t even understand the question. But at least the anger has melted away, replaced with bafflement. 

“When someone places a curse,” you explain slowly, putting your pen down and looking at him carefully, “what they are doing is weaving many threads of intention. If you experienced pain, that is one thread. If you were confused, that’s another. Your lack of memory is certainly one. Your loss of control, loss of sense of self - those would be individually added with intention as well. Every piece of it matters. To completely, successfully undo it, I need to identify every thread and properly counter it. These details - the things I’m asking you - they may inform me of a thread, a piece of intention from the original curse.”

Making sure he’s looking at you, you say it very seriously, urging him to understand. “If I miss even one thread, or counter one thread incorrectly, the counter-curse will not work.”

You wait, letting this sink in.

Finally, he inclines his head. “I understand. I apologize - this has been… difficult for me.”

“I can only imagine,” you say gently. “Try to remember that I’m here to fix it. Or… at least to try.”

He presses his lips together, eyes on the floor. You exchange another uneasy look with Namjoon, who shifts his weight slightly but doesn’t speak. The prince wets his lips quickly and pulls in a bracing breath and then begins to speak.

“My night before was very normal,” he repeats. “I felt normal. The things I did were within my normal routine. When I… woke up? Came back to myself? I was confused, yes, but I think that was because I couldn’t remember how I got there. My thinking was not confused, or muddled.”

You nod, feeling a rush of relief at his understanding, at his willingness to cooperate. You write this down, then wait for him to continue.

“I did have pain,” he recalls thoughtfully. “I am not sure if you are aware, but Infracti don’t feel pain easily, or often. My muscles ached - my back, my arms. My legs felt very heavy. I had never experienced any of those sensations before.” 

There’s a bit of pout to his voice - if he weren’t so intimidating, it might be cute. 

“And my head,” he continues with a frown. “I had pain inside my head. Across the front.” He rubs a hand across his brow to show you the spot. 

Cute. 

You write it down, scolding yourself for your lack of professionalism. 

“What about the rest of that day?” you ask, when you’re done writing. “How long did the pain last? How did you feel throughout the day?”

“Better and better as time went on,” he allows. “Though I was… very upset. So I did feel… unlike myself, a bit… like my emotions were a storm.” 

You nod, drawing a little sideways arrow and jotting it down. “When would you say the pain completely faded?”

“By early afternoon?” the prince guesses, gaze floating to the ceiling as he tries to remember. “After I’d had a midday meal in my room. My father had asked me to stay in my wing until… until we’d found out an answer.”

“That was probably wise,” Namjoon says quietly.

“We didn’t know if it would happen again,” the prince explains, a bit sadly. “I asked for extra security outside my chambers that night.”

“And what happened?” 

Prince Taehyung doesn’t answer. He presses his lips together again, flexes his fingers against his thigh. He radiates shame, so thickly it’s like molasses in the air. 

“Maiesti,” you prod. He raises his eyes from the floor to meet yours at your use of his own language, and you hold his gaze steadily. “I am not here to judge you or your actions,” you assure him. “Only to try and make you well again.”

He nods, lowering his gaze again, no less shamed despite your reassurance. “I watched the clock so I would know exactly what time it was when I lost myself,” he says, voice suddenly tiny. You lean closer to hear better, and in your periphery you see Namjoon do the same. “It was midnight. I came back to myself sometime before six o’clock the next morning, in my room, which was… destroyed.”

You’re writing fast, trying to catch every detail. “Destroyed?” you echo.

“Tables overturned, bedding shredded,” he lists robotically, ticking the list on his fingers. “Scratches in the wood of the door.” Pain laces his voice as he adds, “It was like I turned into an animal for the night. I attacked the men stationed at my door. They reported to my father that it took six of them to get me back inside, and then they barred the door. I must have spent the whole time trying to get through.”

He glances down at his hands and you follow his gaze. His nails are wrecked, fingertips still sporting scrapes and cuts, though they’ve clearly been cleaned.

It occurs to you that he could heal himself if he wanted to.

“How did you feel - physically - when you woke up?” You do your best to stay clinical despite the quickening of your pulse.

“The same as the day before - the same pains. The Elders came and told me that… they believed this is the work of a curse. I think you were contacted immediately.”

You ask about the night before this, the final night before you’d arrived, and he describes the same series of events - he’d asked to go to a more unused set of rooms shortly before midnight so that he wouldn’t ruin his own things. He’d woken at dawn sore, exhausted, frustrated - but safely contained.

You lapse into silence, reading back some of what you’d written down, eyes roving for clues and patterns, a place to start.

“I think I need to see you while the curse is controlling you,” you muse, not necessarily meaning to say it aloud.

“Absolutely not,” Prince Taehyung snaps, sitting upright. The gloom and shame vanish from him like a dropped blanket, replaced by intensity and natural authority. “Under no circumstances are either of you to come anywhere near me during the hours that I’ve lost - that I’m not myself. I forbid it.”

You glance away, catching Namjoon’s stricken gaze, and settle on watching your feet scuff gently at the stone floor. 

“I’m not trying to make a spectacle of you,” you defend yourself. “I’d like to take notes on your appearance and actions when the curse is active. There may be valuable -”

“I don’t think you understand,” the prince says, rising fluidly and narrowing his eyes at you. “It took six Infracti to contain me. Do you have the strength of six Infracti?” He cocks his head at this rhetorical question. “If you are near me between midnight and dawn, you will die. There is no other possible outcome. I forbid it.”

You stare at each other, at an impasse. Finally, you look down at your notepad, mind whirring as you try to think of a way around this rule. Prince Taehyung huffs in frustration and then eyes the exit. 

“I have duties to attend to,” he says flatly. “Please remember that if asked, your reason for being in Infracticus is simply that the King invited you, as academics in the magical field.”

You feel a jolt of queasiness. You hope no one asks - you hope no one speaks to you at all, that no one even notices you there. 

“Understood,” Namjoon says, speaking for you both. 

Prince Taehyung nods, eyeing the door, then speaks without looking at you. “Please determine our next steps regarding the curse and communicate them to your staff. They’ll inform me.” With this, he slips into the corridor, leaving you in silence. 

You turn to Namjoon plaintively. “Was this a mistake?” you ask, open and vulnerable, feeling a little wild with trepidation. “Should we not have come? Can we do this?”

He shakes his head. “A little late for that now.”

You sink back against the couch, closing your eyes, feeling drained despite it still being late morning. You feel like you’ve lived three days in just several hours. 

“I know,” you concede. 

“Let’s just try to do the job as quickly as possible,” he says evenly, lifting his hand like he wants to place it reassuringly on you, then hesitates and returns it to his own lap. “Do you have any thoughts based on this first interview?”

You nod, scanning your notepad again. “It’s interesting,” you murmur, the academic in you coming alive. “It seems to be a curse of lacking, of deprivation. He is not instilled with monstrous behavior - rather, his control and humanity are stripped away or suppressed until only the monster remains.”

“That could be four or five segments of the curse on their own,” Namjoon agrees thoughtfully, his fist pressed against his jaw as he thinks. “To remove one’s sense of self, to remove the Id entirely and leave him only Ego, to remove the facets of control, of mercy, of compassion - each of those exists alone.”

You sigh. “Someone knew what they were doing,” you grumble. “No ordinary person - or Infracti - could just come up with this on the fly.”

“It does seem to solidify their theory that this was an attack,” Namjoon agrees. “Though there are methods out there to simplify the process, if you know what you’re doing. Someone with less skill could complete the curse, if they’d done their research first.”

You look at him, hyper-focused. “Explain,” you say simply.

“We’re looking at each thread of intention that we see here and identifying each one individually,” he says. “And we’re seeing so many specific threads that it seems to us that the caster must have great skill to weave so many and do it correctly.”

“Right…” you say slowly, following so far. 

“Some curses are cast with the use of supplemental magic,” he explains. Of course you knew this, but it’s a different school of thought than your normal work. “The supplemental magic does the weaving for you - if your wide-scale intention is clear, the supplemental magic sort of… collects the threads you need and brings them to you ready to go.”

You feel yourself frowning, thinking hard. “Like elemental magic? That kind of supplemental magic?”

“Sure,” he says, nodding. “But other forces as well - life magic and death magic, for example.”

This hits you heavily, and you let out a puff of breath. “Death magic?” you repeat, since this is the piece that lodged itself in your skull. “What would that even mean for this case?”

Namjoon shrugs. “I’m not sure yet,” he admits. “But I think it’s something we should continue to consider.”

–

Lunch is served to you not much later in that same room, and after eating you and Namjoon begin pouring through the few magical tomes you’d brought from the university, making note of any relevant details you find.

It’s late afternoon when Namjoon finally leans back from the table, slapping one large palm across the papers where he’d been listing possible threads of intention and mapping ways to counter them. 

You’d both been sitting on the floor on opposite sides of the low table, which is now littered with open books and scattered papers.

“I need a break,” he announces, pushing himself up and heading for the couch. He flops down, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I just wrote the same thing three times. My eyes are crossing.”

You set down your pen and stretch. A break sounds nice, actually. You rise and pace the room a bit, just to walk and get blood flowing in your legs again. You pass by the fireplace, feeling the heat lick at the side of your face until you’re past it, then stopping at the wall that serves as a water feature. You watch it peacefully for a second. 

“You know,” you say thoughtfully. “I could go for some tea. You want some?”

Namjoon answers you with a light snore. You stare at him in disbelief for a minute - how do people just fall asleep like that?! You absolutely cannot relate. 

You pace the room twice more, but you’re feeling more antsy and caged in by the minute. After one more lap, you pause by the doors. You’ve been told multiple times today that you can ask for anything you need, but you feel nervous actually doing so. 

Still… might as well try it on a small request first, right? 

Sighing, you tug the door open. Satuel turns fluidly to face you, expectant.

“Could…” you venture. “Could we get some tea, maybe?”

She nods curtly, black hair swishing with the motion. “I’ll send for it right away,” she tells you. “Please wait inside.”

“Oh,” you say, rocking back on your heels. “I was actually… I was wondering if I could go with you to get it? I feel the need to walk a little.”

She exchanges a tight look with Dansoo, a frown forming on each of their faces. 

“We can’t allow that,” he answers for her gruffly. “Our orders are to get you what you need. Your orders are to stay out of sight.”

I don’t live here, you think, scowling. I don’t take orders from the royal family.

But you are here as a hired professional, and they’re your client, in a way. And the ones offering you room and board, food, and protection. 

You sigh. “Okay,” you say. “I understand.”

Back in your rooms, you flop onto the couch that isn’t occupied by Namjoon’s sleeping form. His arm is still over his eyes, and he snores steadily, more loudly now.

Nobody to even talk to, you think crankily. You lean back against the couch, fingers tapping impatiently against the arm of the couch. 

You’re in Infracticus, in the palace, and you’re trapped in your room. It strikes you as deeply unfair, though you understand the logic, the reasons. Still. You’d give anything to explore a little, to find a little nook to hide in and just watch for a while. The anthropologist in you is dying to observe - there’s nothing you want more than to wander the palace and take it all in. It’s like being told there’s really life on Mars, getting transported there, and then being told you don’t get to see any of it because you have to stay in the spaceship.

You’re suddenly so antsy you think you might crawl out of your skin.

You flop your head to the side in irritation, eyeing the guarded doors. Of course they don’t want to let you wander around the palace - it’s too dangerous. You’re too delicate, too human. 

You sit up straight, eyes still on the door.

Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’re thinking too much like a human.

You barely use magic in your everyday life; in the human world, it just isn’t necessary. But you’re able, perfectly capable of borrowing. 

You look over at Namjoon, who simply snorts in his sleep and rolls to face the back of the couch. He certainly won’t be stopping you. 

When the knock comes, you’ve made up your mind. You open the door with a grateful smile, following the member of kitchen staff as he wheels in a little cart carrying a tea tray. As he busies himself moving the tray from the cart to the small table meant for your meals, you begin the process of borrowing.

You breathe deeply, focusing on what your senses tell you about the space around you - the sounds of the crackling fire, the wall of moving water, the clink of china as the staff member moves the teapot; the smell of the tea, the perfume you’d dabbed on after showing, the room’s natural smells - earthy and sharp.

Your fingertips start to tingle just slightly, a pleasant sensation almost like sunlight moving across a table to finally fall across your skin. You breathe deeper, inviting it in, pulling the magic that exists wild in the universe and reining it in for just a moment, taming it for the few minutes that it can be tamed. 

You have two threads of intention for the magic, and you weave them together a bit sloppily. You’re more practiced at pulling threads apart, but you can manage this with some concentration. 

One thread: don’t see me. The second: what’s that, over there? 

When the kitchen staff wheels the tea cart back into the hallway, you follow tight on his heels. The borrowed magic does as you ask and convinces the staff pushing the cart that there is no one behind him. It convinces Dansoo and Satuel that they see nothing unusual near the cart, but that they might see a suspicious shadow down the other side of the hallway. 

As you get farther and farther away, sticking close to the tea cart, you watch as they peer - narrow-eyed and alert - in the opposite direction. 

As soon as you turn a corner, you slow your pace, letting the Infracti pushing the empty tea cart get further and further away. Once he’s out of sight, you exhale, loosening and then releasing the reins on the magic you’d taken. You breathe freely, no longer having to focus on gripping those reins.

You follow the corridor, trying to always stick to the right, so that you can find your way back later. 

You don’t really have a goal, anything specific you want to see. Nor do you really have a plan, besides poke around, quell your curiosity, stretch your legs, and don’t get killed. But the palace is huge and the royal family is small; you figure you can manage to wander undetected as long as you turn back if you see anyone up ahead. 

You’re not sure how long you wander down empty corridors, passing underneath paintings and maps, some of which you stop and examine. After some time, you stop passing closed doors and start passing open rooms, most of which seem outfitted for taking visitors: couches and tables, bookshelves laden with both books and decorative trinkets. 

Something in one room catches your eye and you pause in the doorway, peeking in. A piano sits in the corner, shiny and still. You wonder if anyone who lives here actually uses it, or if musicians are hired when entertainment is needed.

It isn’t much further down the same corridor as the piano room that you come to the top of a wide, stone staircase. You pause, listening. The sound of voices and laughter floats up to you, and you hurry to tuck yourself behind a statue of an amarisca, the magical creature that had pulled your carriage the night before. 

From your spot, pressed tightly against the carved stone, you can just barely see the room below. You can see the hems of skirts and shiny dress shoes passing by - all heading into the palace. They must be important families, invited to take supper with the royal family. Perhaps they are even members of the Ruins themselves - the King and Queen’s siblings, perhaps, or even their cousins. Maybe they’re invited here to shmooze before making decisions regarding business or state. Maybe the royal family simply have friends, people whose company they like to keep. 

You’re mulling this over when a voice startles you so badly that you leap, whirling around, grateful for the heavy statue - without it, you very well may have toppled down the stairs.

“What have we here?” the low voice asks, “A human?”

&lt;- Prev | Next ->

thank you so much for reading!!!! finally - events are happening!!! lol

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 22.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

The drive over to your job was incredibly silent, just a few clearing of throats and the sound of quiet opera bled through the car like some type of disease.

You want to tell Guk, 'I can take care of you, don't go through all of this if you're not happy with it,' but he'd be upset to hear you say such a thing.

You've already told him countless times to stay home but he's so incredibly adamant about it that you feel like a broken record.

Every inch closer your car made toward the job, made Guk's hands clench harder and harder.

It's like every emotion he had building up inside of him for Namjoon is suddenly going to come pouring out in a display of strength.

"We can have lunch together later," you offer, pulling into the building's garage.

"I thought that was a given," your fiance breathes, tilting his head to look at you.

You simply tilt your head and nod. "Y-Yeah, I guess."

You're not good at this whole reassurance thing. You never even reassured yourself over the years.

Jeongguk fixes his tie and when you park the car and shut the engine off, he can see now just how fast and wild his knee is bouncing.

You noticed this throughout the ride over too but you haven't mentioned it for fear of making him more nervous.

"Alrighty, c'mon," you coo, opening your door and grabbing your purse.

Taking a deep breath, your fiance steps out of the car as well. He uses the blacked out window of the car beside yours to slick back the sides of his hair before turning to you.

"Ready?" you smile, fixing your dress.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replies, rounding the car and curling an arm around your waist.

He doesn't wanna be that guy that constantly bitches about stuff. He can't be that guy. There really is nothing to complain about in his life right now and if he did then that would just be selfish.

Stepping onto the elevator, you press the button for the top floor. You step in front of him, fixing his tie in silence. The father of your child simply sighs, kissing your forehead sweetly.

As the doors finally go to close, an arm juts out, catching the sliding doors and forcing them to open again. When you turn around to see who it is, you find yourself smiling.

"Morning, Joon," you announce.

"Hey, gorgeous," he breathes, finally looking up from his phone to see Guk towering behind you with widening eyes.

You clear your throat awkwardly, you're used to those words after all these years. You're used to the half assed flirting attempts but Jeongguk Jeon is not.

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, giving Guk a polite smile as the doors finally slam shut.

You can practically feel heat radiating off of your fiance's body behind you and he curls his arm around your stomach, planting his hand on your belly.

Oh, the silence in the elevator is creepy.

The simple muzak that flits over the speakers does not bring you comforting solace like it usually does. Instead, it makes your heart beat harder, it makes your blood pound faster through your veins as you feel Jeongguk clench harder onto you.

You tilt your head to look up at him but it's the wrong choice. His eyes are narrowed and animalistic in the blonde man's direction.

When he opens his mouth to speak, Joon speaks first.

"Excited for your first day of work, Guk?" the blonde man inquires, pulling out a folder and skimming through it, "It's like mommy and me, huh? Finally getting out into the big world."

Oh, no.

Namjoon feels hurt.

You've seen this only once before, when Jack Sypruse got the contract for one of the main vineyards that produce grapes for your wines over him. When this man is hurt, his tongue is like a silver dagger. He's ready and willing to say anything and everything to make himself feel better.

But Jeongguk isn't a professional, he's not about to take shit. Especially when he built himself up all morning with a ball of hatred and uneasiness in his heart.

"Watch your fucking mouth," Guk warns, gently guiding you behind his body.

His frame is muscled and large before you, shielding you from anything you might end up seeing.

"You should be grateful. You wouldn't be here in this elevator if it wasn't for me," Joon announces, slamming the folder shut.

Guk gives a short laugh, one devoid of any real humor. "Grateful, huh? Maybe you're just bitter."

Your eyes dart over to the LED pad which continuously rises in number as you head to the top floor.

You pray for no scuffle in the elevator, you pray for no blood that your employees will see.

"Bitter?!" Namjoon guffaws, "Bitter about what?!"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that I put my baby inside the woman you've been in love with for y-"

"Watch your mouth!" Joon hollers, taking a step forward.

"Make me, buddy," Guk whispers, stepping up as well.

You whine uncomfortably, rocking from one foot to the other as the counter finally stops.

The elevator dings and you turn your head sharply to your fiance.

"Wow, we're at work!" you cheer, grabbing Guk's wrist.

When the doors spring open, you swallow thickly and when you pull him there's no response.

Wedging your foot in the door, you turn back to see their stare off.

"We're at work," you remind them in a gentle song like whisper through your teeth.

"I am grateful you brought me back to her. But don't say it like you gave up something. She was never yours to have. If she was, she would have taken any of your advances over the last seven years. But she didn't. So…" your fiance shrugs, pulling his wrist away from you just to intertwine your fingers, "Don't be a prick, Namjoon. It doesn't suit you."

You open your mouth to speak but the blonde man simply chuckles bitterly. "You don't know me well enough to know what suits me, escort."

"Gukkie, please," you beg softly, looking up at him with pleading, doe-like eyes.

He glances at you quickly before sighing. "C'mon, sweetheart."

Your fiance wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you out of the elevator with him leaving Namjoon alone.

"He's a fucking asshole," Guk mumbles, shaking his head.

"Joon is just being sensitive," you offer, allowing your employees to step out of your way.

You do realize how they look at you these days. You're showing now, your belly rounding out at the now five month mark. It's surely a shock to them, the dead inside, snappy boss has suddenly become this calm, pregnant woman. But love changes people all the time.

"I don't give a fuck what he's being, I will knock him th-" Guk stops himself when he sees your big eyes, alerting him of how loud he's becoming.

You simply sigh, pushing the glass door to your office open.

"I'm not working with him," Guk announces as he pushes the door closed.

Setting your purse down on your desk, you gingerly slide your satin gloves off your arms. Your eyes slowly rise to meet his and you bite your bottom lip already knowing how miserable he feels.

Your fiance barrels towards the sitting chairs, throwing himself down in one with a huff.

"I told you not to come to work," you sigh, sitting down in your own chair.

Guk looks up from the floor, watching how you cup your belly as you turn on your computer.

He's being a little bitch right now. He can't be stressing out the mother of his child like this… He knows better.

"I'll go apologize," he whispers, combing his fingers through his hair.

Your eyes soften further at the inner battle you can see the father of your child going through right now.

He's prideful and you should not be the person that takes that away from him.

"You'll be under my guidance today then," you breathe, folding your arms.

"You have a lot on your plate, baby. I'm sorry," Guk apologizes, running his hands over the knees of his suit pants.

"I would rather you be content during your day than being upset. Besides, Joon was rude for no reason," you reason, leaning back in your chair.

"I'm your personal assistant, so you just tell me what to do and I'm on it!" your fiance beams, turning his head to the doors of your office when they open.

Joon enters with a stack of folders in hand and a sour look on his face. He ignores the father of your child all together, striding right towards your desk without a word.

"Here's last week's sales reports and the quota for next month that has to be met before the fourth quarter," the blonde man breathes, placing the files on your desk.

"Thank you Joonie," you whisper, not looking away from your computer screen.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Jeongguk roll his eyes in turn and you try your hardest to not cringe.

"Do you want me to make you some tea?" Joon inquires, sitting on the edge of your desk.

"Oh no, I'm oka-"

"I'm her assistant, I'll make it. Just tell me where, baby girl," your fiance cuts you off.

Here we go. Another pissing contest.

"Do you even know how she takes her tea?" Joon guffaws, finally turning to look at your man.

Guk smiles then, a fierce, bitter smile curls over his lips and you narrow your eyes at your screen hoping that you fade into the background between the both of them. "Depends on what tea. If it's black tea then with milk and sugar. If it's green tea then with sugar and lemon. If it's chamomile then just milk. I could go on. I'm going to marry this woman, unlike you, I should know how she takes her drinks."

"I should have never bought you that fucking drin-"

"What'd you think would happen if you didn't? You'd become this grand hero that marries my woman and adopts my fucking kid as your own? Man up, dude. You acting pissy with me is not going to fucking help you."

"Y/N! Are you gonna let him talk to me like this?!" Namjoon gasps, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Guk, the kitchen is to your left down the hallway. Five doors down," you simply say, grabbing the top folder off the pile.

"What kind of tea do you want, sweetheart?" Jeongguk asks, standing up.

"Black tea, please. Dec-"

"Decaffeinated. I'm on it, baby," he says, giving you a wink and taking his leave.

When the glass door finally swings shut, you slam the folder closed with a huff. Your eyes shoot straight up to the blonde man's and you narrow them sharply. "Why are you acting like an asshole, Namjoon Kim?!"

"Me?! I'm acting like an asshole?! Are you kidding me?!" he grinds out through his teeth, standing up tall.

"You have been picking on him since the second you stepped foot in that elevator! He hasn't done anything wrong and you're treating him like some kind of disease or something! Stop it!" you counter, folding your arms.

"Oh my God, Y/N, please. I can see how annoyed he was to even be here as soon as I saw you both," Joon shakes his head.

"He was already gearing himself to get shit on. Which I didn't think would happen but here we are! You need to come to terms with what's going on because it seems like you're going to be relentless with him until you do so," you simply state, standing up and turning to the large windows of your office.

"What?! I have come to terms with it! It's his shitty attitude that's causing me to act like this!"

This is not healthy. You can hear the pain and anger in his voice, almost as if it's making all of his organs tremble. He's not ready to be here. You never loved someone for years with no solution. You've never had the big heart like Joon does.

You can't imagine his pain and you can't imagine how painful it must be for him to see this.

"Go home," you breathe, looking down at the city below you.

"What?" Joon hisses, sticking his neck out to hear you.

"Go work from home for a while. I can't deal with this stress right now," you repeat, turning to look at him.

"Y/N… Don't be like that--"

"This pregnancy is really not that easy for me and you and Guk fighting is stressing me out. Please, for me, just go work from home until you feel better about the situation," you ask politely, putting your hand to your heart.

"You have got to be kidding me," the blonde man guffaws, tugging at the neck of his tie.

"You have been a trusted person in my life for quite a long time but now I think you need some time to work things out on your own. It might not be immediate but--"

"I'm the fucking Vice President! I need to be here!"

"Then I will go home and stay at home with Guk still as my assistant. Take your pick. It's no skin off my ass," you retort, feeling your pregnancy hormones now swirling a sick, angry ball within the pit of your stomach.

He stays silent for a while, taking off his glasses to clean them diligently.

The air in the room is now chilly, causing goosebumps to adorn your skin entirely.

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he gives an almost bitter smirk as he shakes his head. "It hurts me."

As simple and bland as his words are, you know exactly what he means.

All of this, every single thing since you've gotten with Jeongguk has hurt him. Even needing him and holding onto him when you were apart with the father of your child hurt.

"I know. And I'm sorry you feel that way," you apologize, turning back to the window.

"I…I love you," he whispers softly, folding his arms.

You sigh softly, shutting your eyes at how sorrowful his words sound. You don't know how to reply. Do you apologize for his love? Do you simply shrug off his emotions and how you feel?

"I know you don't feel the same way. And I fucking know that I am not the guy for you. But it still hurts. You weren't mine to have, you never have been but I always felt that way," Namjoon breathes, shaking his head.

Then there's silence again.

You finally go to speak as he does.

"Joo-"

"I'm gonna take a vacation and go to Maui. Will you approve that for me? I have three months of vacation. I'm gonna go to Hawaii for a month and heal myself," he blurts out, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

You run your hands over your face, turning around to him. Striding over to your desk, you gingerly sit down.

"Yes, I'll approve it," you say finitely, grabbing your folders.

"I'll fill out the form at home," he breathes, rounding the desk to hug you.

When you look up at him the glass door to your office opens with your fiance holding a porcelain teacup.

"You good, baby?" Guk inquires, crossing the long floor to meet your desk.

"Yes," you promise, giving Joon a small smile.

He returns it, even though it's pained and lost, without another word he leaves and you close your eyes once more.

"What just happened?" Guk inquires, sitting back down on the opposite side of your desk.

"Something that was going to happen regardless of whether I wanted it to or not," you mumble, opening up one of the folders at random.

"What?" the father of your child asks confused, crossing his legs.

"Joon is taking a vacation," you announce, not looking up from the countless words and numbers on the page before you.

"Why?" Jeongguk breathes, tilting his head to look out the glass doors.

"Because he needs to work out his feelings. Away from work and away from you. He needs to come back and be professional. Just like you will have to be now that he's gone," you voice throughout your large office.

When you lift your head to look at him, his handsome smile and the tilt of his head sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes, ma'am. I will be as diligent as ever," Jeongguk promises.

As you go to pick up your teacup, you watch as Namjoon slings on his long, woolen peacoat. He steps into the elevator and your eyes meet as he lifts his head. Bringing the teacup up to your lips, you nod your head to him and he does the same with an emotionless face.

It'll take time, but you'll get there. All the pieces will fall into place.

[jooheonspinky]

Trivia: Love

Characters: Namjoon x Female Reader

Genre: idol!au, angst, smut

Synopses: A few years ago, Y/N met Namjoon while at a movie theatre. Hitting it off, they come to an agreement wherein Y/N signs a contract that entails helping Namjoon “de-stress” whenever he is in the US, even having Y/N travel to several of BTS’ stops when they are on tour. But then the pandemic hit, and it has now been almost two years since they have seen each other in person. With BTS coming to LA for several concerts and interviews, will they be able to get back to how things were before, or have the two changed too much in that time apart? 

Warnings: set during the COVID pandemic, mentions of mask-wearing and COVID tests, fingering, unprotected sex (both get STI tested before visits, as per contract. Not specified in story, but Y/N takes birth control).

A/N: This story is inspired by a dream I had on August 26, 2018. You can find the dream here on my Kpop Dream Logs. It took me several years to flesh out and finish this story and I'm really excited to finally get this put out there. I really hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. I really appreciate you taking time out of your day to read my work.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Part 1

Word Count: 4.5K

November 27, 2021

“Hi,” I offer the middle-aged woman behind the front desk as polite a smile as I can convey through my eyes. Trying to be as casual yet discreet as possible, I lower my voice and lean in as I state, “The room for Mr. Moonchild, please.”

The woman’s eyes narrow for just a millisecond before the friendly customer service expression settles back in place. Well, as far as I could tell, due to the navy blue face mask emblazoned with the hotel's logo on the right side covering half of her face.

“Name, please?” she probes, her tone neutral.

“Nabi Bomnal,” I provide the code name he had given me so long ago, my voice slightly muffled with my black medical-style face mask covering the lower half of my face. I resist the urge to tap my fingernails on the shiny granite top of the desk separating us, nervous anxiousness threatening to buckle my knees.

She hums her acknowledgment, and I can feel her eyes judging me as they flick from her computer screen and back to my face a few times as she types. I hold back saying, “We’re just friends,” as a way to justify why I’m here so she can stop searing my soul with her disapproving looks. She knows why I’m here. Yes, this woman knows exactly why I’m here.

“Ok. You are all set, Miss Bomnal.” Her eyes beam, and she seems way too cheerful. “I’ve already paged Mr. Choi. He will meet you at the elevators and direct you to the requested room.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, throwing her an awkward smile, though I know she can’t see it. 

I hope the gesture comes off more amicably through my eyes than it feels before hurrying off to the elevator lobby. This whole interaction would not have bothered me in the past. These were the exact steps I took two to three times a year, and I had been okay with it, ignoring the knowing looks given to me by hotel staff. However, this time, I find myself nervous and feeling ill at ease, my hands clammy as one tugs a suitcase down the marble flooring and the other hangs at my side, fist clenching and unclenching as I walk. It almost feels as if it is my first time all over again.

The elevator doors open just as I approach them, and a large, muscular man fills the space inside. He’s in all black from head to toe. His tucked-in T-shirt, whose sleeves hug his biceps a bit too tightly, also clings to his chest and torso muscles. My eyes continue down to a tapered waist, the shirt disappearing into his jeans. Black sneakers complete his outfit.

“Mr. Choi,” I greet him with a genuine smile and a short bow. “It's good to see you are well.”

He bows back. “I’m glad you are also healthy and well. Come, let me take that.”

It was fruitless to protest. For several years, this has been precisely the way our meetings started. I long ago gave up fighting him about lugging my suitcase around. Mr. Choi may look menacing, but he was a sweetheart underneath all that height and muscle.

“It’s been a while, huh?” I make small talk as the elevator doors close behind me.

“Almost two years,” he hums behind his black face mask. 

“Two years,” I parrot quietly in wonderment. 

We’re quiet after that, each of us left to our thoughts. It’s not for long, though. Soon, the elevator pings, the doors slide open quietly, and we step out onto a plush crimson carpet. Suddenly, the black skinny jeans, purple long-sleeve shirt, and black flats I wear make me feel underdressed.

Not that it would matter. It’s not like I would have them on for too much longer.

“Here we are,” Mr. Choi interrupts my thoughts. He swipes the key card over the black reader beneath the door handle, and there is an audible click as the lock disengages. Ever the gentleman, he holds the door open for me, and I walk into the large room. “You know the drill,” he starts after leaving my luggage by the door. “Here’s the key card. Make sure to leave it here at the end of your stay.” He hands me the card even as he continues his usual spiel. “Your negative COVID test results came through, as did your medical assessment. All is well, as usual.” I press my lips together, my cheeks warming up. Shouldn’t I be used to this by now? “I have reviewed his information also, and all came back negative. Here is a copy for your peace of mind, but for privacy reasons and the conservation of his reputation, the company has remitted his name, date of birth, and demographics. Since you are here, am I to understand you are still in agreement with the contract and arrangement made four years ago? I can provide another copy if you need it.”

Oh, I understand, I think dispiritedly. I understand that this is still just business between us.

“No need,” I let out a short chuckle, waving my hand as if that would brush away the brooding thoughts in my mind. “Yes, I still agree to all the terms. I understand.”

“Ok,” he nods, passing me the medical and COVID documents. “He left you something in the bedroom. Food, snacks, and drinks are in the fridge if you get hungry. My number is still the same. Call me if you need anything or if there is an emergency. They are due to arrive sometime after midnight, so you still have a few hours to yourself.”

“Thanks, Mr. Choi.”

“Have a good night.”

I wish him the same as I walk him to the door. Once he’s gone, I slip out of my shoes, leaving them by the door, and I grab my suitcase to head towards the bedroom. The hotel room was pretty much an apartment. There was a small bathroom to the left and a coat closet to the right in the foyer. The full kitchen had a stove, microwave, counter space, sink, and full-size fridge. Everything is stainless steel. The kitchen was on the right once you exited the foyer. Ahead from the entryway is a large living room area with a television, a couch, a loveseat, a chair, and a coffee table to the left. The TV sits in a shelving unit that takes up most of the wall, and many books of different colors and sizes fill the shelves. A sitting area on the opposite end of the room is arranged in front of a fireplace. Off-center to the living room and sitting area is a sleek black dining table with eight chairs, the chair cushions white, just like the couches and seats around the room. Beyond the dining room is a set of sliding glass doors leading to a roomy balcony with outdoor seating matching the decor inside the living space and a fire pit.

Turning left past the dining table, I finally reach the bedroom. Opening it up, I find a spacious room with a California King-sized bed. The covering atop the bed is fluffy and thick, hinting at the comfort it will provide. A set of French doors leads out to the balcony, a settee invitingly sitting near them, offering the person who sat there a nice view of the space outside.

Reaching the closet on the opposite side of the room, I unpack. I don’t have much, but I hang my clothing on the available hangers to avoid too many wrinkles. As usual, I leave everything else in the suitcase but take out my toiletries. In the bathroom, I can’t help but smile. It was a beautiful area with marble, the palest of pinks surrounding the Jack and Jill sinks. The walls were white marble tiles with light grey streaks, while the marble on the floor was also white, the grey whisps a darker shade. The same tiles continue into the shower, which is right across from the sinks, a luxurious area with several showerheads that I could not wait to use. At the end of the room, there was a grande deep tub. I was quite certain Namjoon and I could both soak in there together. At the opposite end, nearer to where I had entered, a quick stroll over has me confirming it was the toilet, separated from the rest of the bathroom.

Glancing down at my watch, I see it’s already 10:35 p.m., so I opt for taking a shower before it gets too late or I get too tired. Namjoon wasn’t due until after midnight, so I could have a leisurely shower and then lounge around while waiting for him.

But first, I want to see what’s in the bag Namjoon set at the end of the bed. Back in the bedroom, I quickly pull out the lilac tissue paper until a card and the present are revealed at the bottom. I can’t help but smile as I read the note.

Nabi,

I saw this and thought of you. I know you will wear it well. I also got you a little something for those days when you miss the moon. It will keep you company until you can see it again.

See you soon,

Moonchild

Grabbing the box the card had been lying on, my fingers brushed against a soft material. I chuckle to myself, already imagining what it could be. First, though, I wanted to see what was in the black box. Opening it, I can’t help but smile fondly as the contents are revealed. A full moon hangs from a silver chain, a small silver butterfly dangling a few links up. I waste no time clasping it around my neck, the moon charm falling just above my cleavage. 

Clutching it in my hand lovingly, I can’t help but wonder if his message had a double meaning. Yes, he gave me a little moon, something we both loved to look at. But he knows I associate him with it, not just because of his song ‘Moonchild,’ but because he loves to walk beneath the moon to release his creativity. So when his note says I can look at the necklace when I miss the moon, and it can keep me company until I see it again, was he talking about the literal moon, or was he talking about himself? 

Aloud, I can’t help but frown and say, “Nah.”

Namjoon has not indicated this whole time that there is more between us than a hook-up a few times a year. We do keep in touch by talking and texting over the phone when we are apart, even with his busy schedule, but I never get the sense that there is any romantic interest on his part whatsoever. Anyway, as Mr. Choi pointed out earlier, this was nothing but a business transaction, and I would be a fool if I let myself think anything more could ever come from this.

Not wanting to overthink the gift anymore, I moved on to the other item I had felt when I had gone to grab the box. Smiling, I lift the lingerie, trying to figure out exactly what it was besides purple lace and thin satin ribbon. I guess I would find out better once I put it on. With that thought in mind, I head back into the bathroom to shower.

Feeling refreshed after my shower, I sit comfortably on the bed, a near-empty glass of wine in my hand as I watch a movie to pass the time. Repositioning myself, I feel the lingerie shift beneath the robe I’d tied over it. As the material grazes across my skin, I’m reminded that Namjoon has yet to arrive to see me in the one-piece bodysuit he’d bought me. It barely covers anything, the deep-plunging V-neck stopping short of my navel. The material leaves nothing to the imagination, but the color compliments my skin well and accentuates my curves. The lace in the back only covers half of my ass, and the satin adjustable criss-cross straps leave most of my skin bare as it comes to a neat bow at my lower back. It certainly could leave anyone who wore it feeling sexy, and despite some insecurities, even I cannot deny that I could not wait to see Namjoon’s reaction to me wearing it.

The evening seems to be crawling by. The anticipation of seeing him after all this time has my nerves somewhere between frayed with anxiety and horny as hell. Either way, I feel like I’m on the verge of screaming. 

Downing the last bit of wine, I make my way to the kitchen, cleaning up my mess from earlier and leaving the dishes to dry on the counter before slipping out of the robe and sliding in under the bed covers.

Though I am so nervous, the combination of the flight and my jittery nerves has worn me out. I had wanted to stay awake to greet him, but the evening was going too slowly. So, I decided to kill time with sleep. Letting out a shaky breath, I feel myself slowly relaxing. The wine helps, and my eyes slip shut a short time later.

A door closing in the distance wakes me from a restless sleep. I had left the bathroom light on with the door just a smidge open to push back some of the darkness. I scramble off the bed, anticipating finally seeing him in front of me after so long driving away any remnants of sleep left behind.

As I step towards it, the bedroom door flies open, and I gasp. There he is. Kim Namjoon in an off-white suit, the suit jacket unbuttoned. The vest beneath has nothing underneath it, and my eyes are drawn to the deep V of the vest that shows a bit of bare flesh. He wears a thick black choker around his neck with silver spikes poking out randomly all around it. He looks devilishly handsome with his dark chocolate locks, shorter than I was used to, shaved at the sides, and spiked up at the front.

“There’s my beautiful Nabi,” he nearly growls as his eyes lock on me. Even through the thin slip of lace, he has tied across his eyes, I can see the stare is so intense, almost predatory-like, that I feel my heart rate kick up a few notches just because of it. “Come here,” he demands, even as his long legs quickly close the space between us.

Before I can even react, his mouth is slashing hungrily across mine. Inhaling sharply through my nose, I don’t resist. Instead, the fierceness of the kiss mixed with the scent that is his and his alone has my core clenching involuntarily around nothing. It’s like his smell is a key that triggers the memories of our past encounters to come flooding through to the forefront, and it’s the kindle to the fire he always knows how to ignite in me. 

He presses his body into mine, and we stumble back until we are met with the resistance of the wall.

“Namjoon,” I breathe as his hands dig into my hips, holding me to him.

Coaxing my lips apart greedily, he drags his tongue along mine, and I moan into his mouth. The bitterness of the beer he must have been drinking before mixed with mint tingles along my taste buds, and I can’t seem to get enough as my hands help him remove the blazer without breaking the kiss.

His mouth, so warm and soft, is not shy about exploring anywhere he wants to. Namjoon slides away from my lips to kiss my jawline before nipping at the pulse at my neck. His hips roll into mine, and we both groan.

“I missed your taste,” he growls as he hoists me up. “Missed this ass,” he smirks while he palms my bare cheeks and gives them a firm squeeze. I wrap my legs around his waist and smile at him. We are face to face like this, and he is such a magnificent sight to behold. He is like an incubus decked in all white and trimmed in lace, ready to devour me body and soul. His saccharine voice is a dangerous addiction that threatens to shatter my heart into a trillion little pieces at any moment if I don’t do better to guard and protect that much too-sensitive organ. With lips ruddy and swollen from the passionate kisses, face flushed, and eyes dark with pure need, he looks like sex personified. He walks us to the bed and drops me down. I shift to the middle, and he crawls on hands and knees towards me, saying, “Missed the way your tight wet pussy takes me so well...”

“Namjoon!” I gasp, feeling myself grow wetter with the filth coming out of those sinful lips of his. 

“What?” he chuckles huskily as he drops a kiss on my mound. “You look absolutely delicious in that,” he compliments as his hands graze up my thighs. There is a conflicting sensation, and I look down to see he is wearing white lace half gloves, the material stopping just past his knuckles. My eyes close, soaking up the feeling of a rough scratch mixed with the soft flesh of his fingertips ghosting their way up my body. “I knew it would suit you well.”

I can’t even answer anything he says, my body humming with sensations I have been deprived of for so so long. It’s as if I’ve forgotten how to speak anything other than his name. It wasn’t that I had withheld myself of relief while we were apart. Still, there is just a different feeling altogether when you have all these overwhelming sensations being coaxed out of you by someone else rather than a toy or your own self—especially someone as passionate as Namjoon. 

His lips have made their way up to my breasts. The tips press firmly against the thin purple lace, and he wastes no time snatching one between his lips. I let out a loud gasp as his hand slipped between my legs, palming me roughly. 

“Baby, you are so wet,” he growls against my breasts. Then, leaning back, he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait much longer. I need to be inside you.”

Mesmerized by his flushed cheeks and pleading eyes, I nod, “Yes. Please.”

He licks his lips hungrily, his mouth quickly returning to my breast. I’m groaning when I feel a finger slip inside me. Namjoon’s curse is muffled as he slides in and out, prepping me for what is to come and warming my body up even more. He slides in another digit, and my hips begin to roll upwards, wanting more friction. He’s pulling away, and I whimper, my entire body throbbing with the impending release I am so needing. Namjoon quickly removes the rest of his clothes, leaving on his gloves and the lace he had tied over his eyes.

He is crawling over me in no time, his naked form warm against me. Namjoon does not even give me the time to take off the lingerie. Instead, he pulls the material away from my center and brings his cock to dip into my juices. Biting down on my lip, my hands fist the sheets as he drags the head of his dick up my seam, the tip rubbing my clit sweetly. My hips arch up, and he chuckles.

“Greedy, girl,” he tsks but doesn’t delay the torture any longer.

Namjoon slides in slowly, groaning once he’s bottomed out. His hand kneads my breast as he leans forward to capture my lips in a deep kiss, allowing me to adjust to him. He tastes so good; I could kiss him forever. He gives his hips a hesitant roll, and when he gets a moan from me, he starts a slow pace. My walls begin to tighten around him, and he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands on my thighs, keeping them open wide. 

He looks incredible, with his tanned skin glistening in the glow of the bathroom light. His nipples are taut, his abs constricting as he chases his high. I can feel myself getting so close, finding it hard to keep my eyes open.

“Don’t stop,” I keen. 

Namjoon obliges, his hips picking up more speed. He feels so good scraping against my walls, touching that spot that he knows precisely how to hit. I bite down on my lip, and Namjoon smacks my inner thigh, and the shock of the sting has me spilling over the edge on a long moan, my hips rolling to meet his thrusts as I ride out my high.

“Fuck, you look so hot,” he pants as he yanks the lace from his eyes. “I need to see you,” he growls as his cock throbs desperately inside me. I know he’s close when his thrusts grow sloppier, and I rake my nails over his abdomen. “Oh, shit!” he curses as his abs constrict just before I feel him burst inside me. Though I’m already oversensitive, I lock my legs around his waist and buck into him as thick streams of his warm cum fill me up.

“Ok, ok, ok,” he shivers as he tries to unravel my legs from around his waist moments later.

I grant him mercy and release him, laughing as I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom. Using the toilet and cleaning myself, I bring a warm, wet hand towel back into the room. I can’t help giggling when I see him collapse back onto the bed after leaning over to toss his spiked collar and lace gloves onto the bedside table, his arms thrown out on either side of him as if that took the rest of the energy he had left.

“You good?” I ask sweetly as I clean him up.

“Come here,” he growls. I yelp, tossing the towel over the edge of the bed, when Namjoon snatches me up and tucks me into his side. He tenderly kisses my forehead as his arm cradles me to him, one of his legs nudging its way between mine. “I really did…miss you, Y/N,” he murmurs before his breathing goes steady.

“Namjoon?” I whisper.

But there is no response. Instead, he pulls me tighter against his sleeping and warm form. I try not to read too much into the gesture. Steadying my breathing, not wanting to wake him, I can’t help but let my mind wander.

How had I gotten here?

I smile fondly, remembering the day we met as if it was just yesterday. 

It had been a cool Spring night in 2017. I went to the movie theater by myself. Leaving the theater room after the movie finished, I looked up and became frozen in my spot. Right near the door to exit the building, I swore I had seen Kim Namjoon!

I blinked a few times. Looking around, I wondered how no one else had noticed. Granted, he had been wearing a face mask, sure, but those eyes and his stance? It was undeniable to me.

  He was scrolling through his phone and must have sensed my staring because he looked up. His gaze fell directly on me. My heart skipped a beat as he threw a wink my way and then brought a finger to where his mouth would have been. I nodded, respecting his wishes. That didn’t mean my heart wasn’t racing a mile a minute as I made my way to the exit and avoided any further eye contact.

As I walked to my car, my mind was reeling. I had been in the same space as Namjoon! I couldn’t even believe it myself. Lost in my thoughts, I had nearly let out a scream when a finger tapped on my shoulder.

“Jesus!” I gasped as I whirled around. “You scared me!”

A tall, muscular man in black jeans and a black t-shirt bowed. 

“죄송합니다. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s ok,” I laughed nervously. I still eyed him warily. He was quite fearsome; the bulging muscles that his clothing did little to hide spoke of how easily he could snap me like a twig if he truly wanted to. “Can I help you?”

“My client, he wants to meet you.” I cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “Namjoon-씨,” he clarified.

I could not help but laugh in disbelief.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Namjoon? Of BTS? He wants to meet me?”

I laughed again. The man, most likely a bodyguard if those muscles had anything to say about it, pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. When the line was picked up, he spoke in Korean and then passed me the cell phone.

Now, my stomach fluttered as I accepted the device. 

“Hello?” I said hesitantly, then tried to backtrack with a “Uhm, I mean, 여보세요?”

I mentally face-palmed myself, instantly feeling my ears burn with embarrassment. A soft chuckle greeted me.

“Hi. I see you didn’t believe my bodyguard.”

I instantly recognized the voice. 

With my knees trembling, I was honest when I answered, “I didn’t. I mean, I’m not sure I do, still.”

He laughed again.

“I just wanted to thank you for not revealing my identity inside.”

Holy crap! It really was him!!

“Yeah. Sure,” I tried to sound nonchalant. “It’s nothing.”

“But for me, it is, so what do you say? Will you go with my bodyguard?”

“I don’t know….” I looked up at the intimidating man before me.

“I promise you’ll be safe.”

But my heart sure hadn’t been.

I should have known that very first night that I would not have been able to keep my heart guarded. I tried to be indifferent as I accepted his proposition, to not catch feelings. I did all I could to focus on the fact that this was all basically a business transaction. He would help me pay my way through school while I helped him “relieve some tension” whenever he came to the US. The more legal way of saying we were “fuck buddies.”

Simple. 

Yet the more time we spent together, the more we spoke, the more he chiseled his way in. The lines were getting too blurred for me. The two years we were unable to be with each other made me realize it. I thought maybe this time apart would dampen things, reminding me that there really is nothing between us but this contract. It hadn’t been so. Seeing him again, I knew I had missed him so much. He is so good to me and respectful despite the circumstances. And that only makes me adore him more.

I push all thoughts out of my mind as I feel tears threatening my lash line. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, praying they don’t spill over. Breathing in and out slowly, combined with the warmth of Namjoon’s embrace, helps me to settle down, and soon I’m relaxed enough to fall asleep. The sleep is so deep I don’t even feel him leave the bed a few hours later.

Credits:

Text Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Moodboard by me.

For moodboard, used:

InCollage for layout, title, butterfly and photos.

Except Namjoon’s photo. Credit to RM x GQ Korea, Vogue Korea 2021

Motionleap was used for the movement within the moodboard.

Thanks for reading. Part 2 is out now.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

[wintaerbaer]

icebreaker (jhs)

summary: When you get stuck in a walk-in freezer with your work nemesis, he has a rather...unconventional idea to ensure the two of you get through it without being frostbitten.

pairing: Hoseok x Reader

rating: generally sfw (mentions of ass and boobs though)

genre: enemies to ??

word count: 1.3k

prompt: Hobi + "Would you for once stop being a bitch!" + close quarters trope (for @animeniacss! <3)

MASTERLIST

The metal of the door is painfully cold against your fingers where you scramble at it, desperately trying to force it open.

It should be unsurprising–given that you’re literally in a walk-in freezer–but the panic setting in at the prospect of being trapped in here (and with him no less) is absolutely scrambling your brain.

No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening.

“It’s stuck?” Even the mere sound of his voice makes your blood boil on cue. If he keeps it up, you could probably survive in here indefinitely.

“Nooooo.” You draw it out as sarcastically as you can, pairing it with a dramatic eye roll for maximum snark. “I’m keeping us here for fun. Because there is nothing I would rather do than be locked in a freezer with your stupid ass.”

Hoseok levels an annoyed look your way but doesn’t respond, sidling up to try the door himself. It doesn’t budge even a hair, and he pulls back with a shake of his hands, trying to circulate heat back into them. “Shit.”

This being a shit situation might be the first thing you’ve ever agreed on. Ever since you both started working at the restaurant a year ago, you as a waitress and he as a bartender, you’ve been at odds–trading verbal jabs, dirty looks, and loathing the times when, like now, you either open or close together.

Honestly, you don’t even remember what started it at this point.

Your breath comes out in a thick cloud, fogging the space between you. “When is Namjoon coming in?”

“I don’t know.” He rubs at his arms; the thin, black cotton of his button down is likely doing close to nothing as far as warmth goes. “Maybe fifteen minutes?”

“How long does it take for frostbite to set in?”

“Why the fuck would I know that?!”

The annoyed expression he aims at you is downright lethal, and you find yourself jumping on the defensive. “That big, dumb brain of yours has to be good for something, right?”

His eyelids drop, disappointment painting his face more than anything. “Wow. Good one.” But somewhere in his posture, you think you might see…

Hurt?

No. No chance.

He whips out his phone, holding it up towards the ceiling as he peers at the screen. “I don’t have any service, do you?”

A tiny “x” sits in the corner of your phone where there should be bars. “Nothing.”

The vapor of his own breath billows between you as he turns, inspecting the confines of the freezer. “Do you think there’s a hole or something you could squeeze through?”

“What?! Why me?!”

“Because it’s your fault we’re in here!” he exclaims, raising the pitch of his voice in a poor, hyperbolic imitation of yours. “Waaahhhh, Hoseok, I can’t reach the bins on the top shelves because I’m short!”

“I am not squeezing through a hole,” you sneer. “You’re just looking to get a nice view of my ass.”

He laughs, but the tips of his ears go pink, too quickly to be from the cold. “You wish.”

With no other options for escape, you try the door again, bracing your shoulder against it and leveraging all of your weight. Hoseok quickly joins in, pressing both of his hands at the space next to you, biceps bulging.

The two of you fall back with a huff when the door continues to refuse any kind of movement. You shiver, curling your arms around yourself as he frowns.

“What do we do now?” you ask.

He sighs. Runs a hand through his dark hair. “I guess we have to wait it out.”

“We’re going to fucking freeze.”

“I…” He falters, gazing at you with nervous eyes. “I saw this thing one time. Tips on staying warm in subzero temperatures…”

His eyes fall to the floor, and you snap your fingers at his hesitation. “And?”

He gulps, shifting on his feet. “Skin-to-skin contact.”

“No!” you shout. “No, no, no, no. Now you’re just trying to get my clothes off.”

A toss of his hands as he groans in exasperation. “Would you for once stop being a bitch?!”

You feel yourself flush at his use of the word, hot rage climbing up the threads of your veins. If you had a dime for every time you’ve taken a verbal shot at each other, you’d actually be able to afford to see your favorite band in concert. But never, until now, has he dared to call you a bitch.

“Look, I know it must be hard having to go through every minute of your life with an entire tree up your ass,” you snap, “but that doesn’t give you the right to call me a bitch, asshole.”

He flinches, the movement rippling its way through his body like he’s resetting–teeth clenching and joints stiffening before he sheepishly rests his hand on the back of his neck.

“Look, I’m…sorry. Okay? You’re right. That was out of line.”

Suddenly, you’re not frozen because of the literal freezer you’re standing in, but because you never thought you’d hear those words leave his mouth.

He’s sorry?

“I know we got off on the wrong foot and that you hate me, but I am truly just trying to look out for both of us here.” He nods his chin at you, a hint of cavalier mirth slipping back into his expression. “That being said, I need you to take off your shirt.”

You’re still incredibly suspicious, but his apology has taken you off-guard. Could it be that you’ve partially misjudged him this whole time?

Could there really be a scrap of a heart somewhere underneath all that ego and contempt?

You suck your teeth, accepting the inevitable as the chill begins to work itself deeper into your bones.

“You first.”

Hoseok chews on his lip, looking unsure of his plan now himself. But then he’s reaching for his collar, winding his fingers in a downward line to undo each button of his shirt until his torso is bared to you, goosebumps erupting over his skin.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he gasps. “Okay, now you.”

You grit your teeth against the chill and the fact that you’re really doing this, raising your hands to undo the top button, then the second and the third and then–

A woosh and a cough.

You whirl around to find Namjoon standing in the doorway, looking utterly disgusted.

“In the freezer? Really?” He clicks his tongue at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, we keep food in here.”

A horrified gasp leaves your mouth as both you and Hoseok hurriedly button your shirts back up. “It’s not what it looks like! We were–”

“I know what you were doing,” he scoffs. “Do us all a favor and save it for outside work hours, okay? Now get back out here. I need help checking our liquor stock.”

And then he spins on his heel and leaves.

You rush to catch the door before it closes, Hoseok only a step behind. The warmth of the restaurant envelops you like the toastiest blanket, and the two of you stand there for a moment rubbing the heat back into your skin. It’s such a relief that you don’t even feel entirely horrified over Namjoon thinking that you and Hoseok are sleeping together.

And speaking of Hoseok–

“Well,” he says with a clearing of his throat.

“Well.”

“That was fun.”

“Not in the slightest,” you reply. “Though I can’t believe I got you to say sorry.”

He winks. “That was just to get your shirt off.” You stand there, frozen, as he strides off down the hallway, spinning back towards you at the last second.

“Nice boobs by the way.”

a/n: as always, please consider liking, reblogging, replying, and/or dropping an ask if you enjoyed! :)

[xoxiu]

late bloomer | namjin x oc

chapter one

ao3: here

summary: at Amelie's age, a submissive should have been tagged years ago during puberty. nevertheless, Seokjin and Namjoon were beyond happy to be paired with her, even if the circumstances were a bit unconventional.

the department of behavioral health is in charge of ensuring that doms and subs are guaranteed equality and that all relationships are safe, sane, and consensual. they strive to provide proper health, education, and community services to help those with secondary sexual hormones.

warnings/tags: smut, BDSM, dom/sub, polyamory, fmm, dubcon, tpe, domestic discipline, kink exploration, STRICTLY non-sexual age play/age regression

a/n: it’s been one hell of a year let’s just leave it at that. lemme know how you vibe with this 🫶

Amelie felt the heavy bass deep within her chest- the club’s music was loud enough to drown out her self-deprecating thoughts. Finally, she thought, she could just let loose and vibe. Maybe hook up with a stranger, smoke some weed, and let herself live a little. Considering the past two weeks of hell and torture she had endured, Amelie felt she deserved a good weekend bender.

The young girl smirked as the tall, handsome man in front of her slid another shot of whatever in her direction. She gratefully downed it in one go, keeping the heavy eye contact with the stranger. No one counted just how many drinks Amelie had consumed by this point. The sleaziest club in the city wasn’t exactly known for following alcohol laws down to the letter. All she knew was that she had yet to pay a penny for her drinks, and she considered that a success.

Everything around her began to fade into that delightful haze Amelie constantly chased. The man’s words sounded as if they all were underwater, even Amelie’s giggles felt like they weren’t her own. They were millions of miles away in some bathtub; even the lights and music that once harrowed her senses seemed to blur in that blissful haze in the distance. She didn’t control her body at this point as she wrapped herself around the man’s arm, following him out to the street.

“Woah,” she swayed into the man as he led her to a motorcycle parked out back. “This is- this’s yours?” Amelie didn’t even bother to listen for a response before toddling over to the bike. From behind her, the stranger grabbed the helmet and placed it on Amelie’s head. The fit reminded her of when she would ride a snowmobile with her father back in the day and how the helmet was just a bit too big. Surely, it was fine- the bike didn’t even have a scratch, so this guy must be a safe driver.

Amelie hopped onto the motorbike behind the hot stranger, wrapping her arms around his waist. The two of them sped off down the street, Amelie’s giggles turning into joyous, careful laughter and cheers. This felt so right, unlike how prudishly she was living before. No person should be subjected to twelve years of monotomous schooling, only to then immediately follow it up with four more years of stupid shit. She felt relieved the prestigious university had kicked her out. Amelie was proud to be a college dropout, finally allowed to live life for the first time.

In a matter of seconds, Amelie felt herself fly forward, continuing the forward momentum of the motorcycle while the bike stayed in its place. Without a clue as to what was happening, Amelie turned her head to see the bike caught up under the grill of a sportscar with the hot stranger halfway through the windshield. The last thing Amelie felt was the metal on top of her legs before everything snapped to black.

———

The sun started to illuminate the living room as Seokjin sipped his morning coffee. His eyes shifted from the beautiful sunrise back to the television, nonchalantly catching up with world news. The man prided himself on being a well-informed citizen but could only stand news stations in the morning. They were much more chipper than the afternoon and night runs. And much less fearmongering.

The previous night leading into this morning felt more relaxing and quiet than what Seokjin was used to. As a nurse, he practically lived his life on call, always waking up at ungodly hours to take up a shift at the emergency department. The days when he could lazily lounge into his primary practice and dick around with his coworkers were great. This was turning out to be one of those days.

Just as he rose from the couch to fetch his work bag, his cell phone began to ring. He quickly looked at the number, hoping it was a coworker telling him not to bother coming in today and to just have a nice day off. Alas, it was not. Instead, it was the Behavioral Health Center he frequently volunteered at. Jin stared at the caller ID, dumbfounded and confused as to why they would be reaching out to him. He managed to answer the call right before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?” Jin asked, putting his work bag back onto the kitchen table. This call might take a while.

“Yes, is this Seokjin Kim?” A female voice replied, her voice monotone and void of any indication of why she would be calling at 6 in the morning.

“Yes, it is-“

“I’m aware that you and your husband are on the Submissive Waiting List?”

Seokjin choked on air at her words. At one point in time, he and Namjoon yearned for a submissive, seeing as both of them were dominant. After taking the necessary classes to get on the coveted waitlist, they just kind of forgot about it. Their own dynamic grew, and the need for a submissive wasn’t as needed as before.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, I meant to take us off that list ages ago…”

“We have a submissive that aligns with your subtypes and biomarkers.”

Well, shit, Seokjin thought. He never thought he would see the day. As if the woman on the phone hadn’t heard his previous statement, she rattled off an appointment time and location. Not sure what to do and always struggling to tell others ‘no,’ Seokjin only confirmed that he would be there and hung up.

All the man could do was stand in the kitchen and let out a sigh. He sent the work group chat a quick text alerting them to a sudden family emergency before heading over to the master bedroom where Namjoon still slept. Seokjin had two hours to talk this over with his husband before their household went from two to three.