#yoongi hurt comfort

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 13.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.

The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.

You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.

You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.

Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.

You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.

You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.

He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.

Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.

You can’t.

You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.

It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.

You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.

We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.

Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.

You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.

“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.

The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.

Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-

“D-O-N-T”

His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.

“N-O”

You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.

“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:

“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”

Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”

Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.

“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.

You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.

You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.

The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-

“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”

As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.

Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.

You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.

His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.

He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.

It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.

Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.

Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.

Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?

You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.

Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.

Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).

Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.

Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.

You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.

Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.

A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.

The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.

"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"

"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."

"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."

Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.

“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.

Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.

No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.

Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.

(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)

The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.

You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.

Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.

Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?

You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.

You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.

Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.

“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”

It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.

But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.

He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.

He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.

“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.

“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”

It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.

At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.

You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.

When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.

You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.

Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.

You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.

You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-

Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.

Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.

If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give? 

You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage. 

It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.

Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too. 

Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"

Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.

You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring. 

Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway. 

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep. 

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air. 

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask.

Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.

Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?” 

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?” 

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child. 

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but- 

Namjoon would be a good father. 

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach. 

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button. 

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you. 

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in). 

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty. 

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”

Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image. 

“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.

A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.

After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.

(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.

Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.

Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.

Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).

But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.

“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.

You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.

“That would be so nice Joonie."

You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.

“I really need to get a glass of water.”

Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.

“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.

You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.

“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.

The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.

Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.

Thump.

“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.

“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.

Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.

Thump

The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.

Thump

Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.

Thump, breath, thud.

Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.

Thud.

The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.

Thud

Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.

Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.

The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.

He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"

Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.

Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"

Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”

There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.

Could he catch up if he started running now?

It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”

Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”

"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”

“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.

Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."

Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”

Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.

“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.

“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”

The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”

Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”

Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"

“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.

Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”

“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”

“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”

“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.

“Hobi?”

But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-

The train ticket is gone.

Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.

I’m sorry, I love you.

You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.

This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-

Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.

The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.

“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.

The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.

“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”

The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.

Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.

The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.

“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.

If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.

Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.

Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.

With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.

At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.

“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.

“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.

“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.

Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.

Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.

Thud.

“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”

Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.

He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“What?"

Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."

Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”

The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.

Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.

"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."

"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.

Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”

Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?

Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.

“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”

Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.

"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.

“It could be the same name.”

Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.

“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”

Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.

Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.

Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.

Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"

“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”

Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.

“I did. She’s an omega.”

The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-

Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.

“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.

Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.

Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.

Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.

If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.

If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.

A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.

How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-

Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”

“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.

Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”

Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.

Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”

Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.

“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”

“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”

Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.

“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”

“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.

"No- you can't-"

“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”

Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.

Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.

All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.

Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.

“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”

You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.

“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.

“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”

You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.

“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”

Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.

It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.

Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”

Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).

Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.

“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”

You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.

“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”

Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.

“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”

Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.

“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”

Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”

Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.

“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”

Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.

“They let them rest and gave them some food.”

Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.

“Cuddled them a little.”

Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.

“And when they put them back in,”

Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.

“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”

His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?

You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.

“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”

He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.

His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.

One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.

Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.

The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.

Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.

Namjoon cries.

Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.

Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.

“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.

Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.

Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.

“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.

“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.

“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.

“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“

Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”

“-if you see something say something.”

The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”

“Yoongi- Just go!”

There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.

They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.

Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.

Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.

He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.

Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.

They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.

By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.

In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.

~-~

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~-~

Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.

this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.

I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.

when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.

the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.

Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"

the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.

the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~

i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~

i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.

how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 26

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 12.1k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence,

Masterlist

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It was the second time Taehyung was in Jungkook’s atelier—only recently had Jungkook started thinking of it like that, before it was the atelier—but he was looking around him like it was a fairytale and everything was made of magic. Jungkook guessed he must have looked a little like that as well the first time you had shown him the room and told him it was his to do as he pleased. Athens and the Parthenon stretching on the wall never failed to inspire wonder and a deep respect in him, regardless of how long it had been since the first time he walked inside.

Everything else in the room was quite different from that first day. The once pristine and unused room was now splattered in paint. It was everywhere, on the floor and the cabinets and on the many newspapers that he used to cover everything. The first time he had stained the floor with paint, he had gone to you with teary eyes, lowered ears, and a hundred apologies on the tip of his tongue. You had simply laughed and told him that the room was his and he could paint the whole floor if he wanted to. The only thing you asked of him was to be careful of the wall painting. Jungkook would have never touched it in the first place.

Finished canvases were leaning against the cabinets and the walls. Most of them were of places Jungkook found beautiful, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon, a neighborhood in Amsterdam he had seen in one of your photos. There were also a few paintings of the pack, you and Seokjin cooking in the kitchen, Yoongi playing the piano, Namjoon and Hoseok under the large tree in the garden, Taehyung with Alice at the lake, and Jimin smiling so wide his eyes turned into crescent moons.

Jungkook longed for Jimin with an insatiable hunger. Now that he had gotten a taste of him once and Jimin told him he wanted it, now that there was no guilt and anguish, he couldn’t get enough of him. He wanted to always be touching him, holding him, and scenting him. His scent was like an aphrodisiac to him and he was addicted.

However, when Taehyung had shyly asked about his atelier, he was compelled to show it to him. It wasn’t often that Taehyung asked for anything and although he hadn’t specifically asked to see the room, Jungkook knew he would like it. Taehyung’s smile was also addicting and rare like a precious gem. So, he had left Jimin with Seokjin to cook in the kitchen and had taken Taehyung’s hand and climbed down the stairs. His hand was soft and he could still feel its ghost on his palm.

He was right, Taehyung’s smile was worth it. It was a tiny one, a small curve of his lips, but it was stunning.

His tiger ears twitched when his eyes landed on the painting of him. He approached slowly, taking it in. A hand reached out but he drew it back before it could touch the canvas.

In the painting, Alice was grinning brightly at Taehyung, one of her rainbow butterfly hair-clips clipped on his dark hair. But what Jungkook loved the most about it was Taehyung’s smile. For the first time, with Alice, Taehyung looked genuinely happy. The painting didn’t do the moment justice, he hadn’t managed to capture the tiger hybrid perfectly. He had taken a picture of the two of them and used it as reference but it was difficult, almost impossible, to immortalize Taehyung’s beauty in that moment.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook asked gently.

Taehyung startled as if the painting had enchanted him and Jungkook’s voice broke the spell. He hugged himself with one hand, almost like he wanted to stop himself from touching the painting. “It’s… beautiful.”

“It was a beautiful moment,” Jungkook agreed. “Alice is incredible, right?”

Taehyung nodded slowly. “I… have it. The butterfly. She doesn’t want back… it.”

They both looked at the painting. Jungkook wasn’t sure if they were seeing the same thing but maybe they were.

“Do you want to paint again?” he asked, breaking the silence. He took down the half-finished canvas of a beach from the easel and replaced it with a blank canvas.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to agree this time. They picked up different brushes, chose a few tubes of oil paint and set themselves to work. Jungkook showed him how to paint a sunset—he had perfected the skill through a lot of observation and many YouTube videos. Taehyung seemed to have fun blending the colors and drawing the shapes of semi-transparent clouds.

They stayed in the atelier for a few hours until they were called for dinner by Hoseok, whose heart-shaped smile at seeing them together in their paint-splattered clothes rivaled the beauty of the sunset. After the meal, Jungkook asked if Taehyung would like to take the painting of him and Alice to his room. They hung it on the wall with Yoongi’s help and went back to the garden together.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were filming at Monmouth Manufacturing for the day. They were the last couple of scenes you would be filming there for Season 1. Hopefully—and most probably—, you would see it again next year, or the year after that, filming for Season 2. First, you would have to finish Crooked Kingdom and then towards the end of the year, maybe you could work on the Raven Cycle. Your schedule was already crazy and you were troubled about what that meant for the next year.

A headache was brewing behind your temples and you were trying very hard to ignore it. You had been at the studios since 6 o’clock in the morning and you were going crazy. It would be one of those 15-16 hour days. You could see it coming. The executive producer of Paper Hearts had called to tell you that you were desperately needed for a board meeting for the next season. They had changed the time of the meeting to later in the afternoon to fit your schedule, which proved that it was important. You dreaded the drive to the other side of Los Angeles and what was sure to be a very long discussion.

During your lunch break, you texted Namjoon that you would be late again. He didn’t say anything but you knew he was disappointed. He had to be. You had barely spent any time with them in the past few days. There were also matters you still had to discuss. You hadn’t told the other hybrids about the thing between the three of you and they deserved to know. Your headache got worse just thinking about it.

You flipped through the script during a small break, sipping on your third cup of coffee of the day. It was making you jittery but the other option was falling asleep in your chair.

“Okay, I think we are good to move on to the next scene,” you told Will. “And then we’re done for the day.”

“Should I get someone to call the actors?”

“Yeah, see if they are done with makeup and send them in.” You rolled your neck and let out a heavy sigh. “All things considered it’s going pretty well.”

Will chuckled as he motioned for someone from the staff to come closer. “For someone who’s been here since six, you’re doing remarkably well.”

You waited for him to send the man to fetch the actors before speaking again. “We’ll see about that when we’re done with this scene. If I’m on my feet and awake by then, I deserve an award.”

Will shrugged, leaning back on his chair. “I’ve seen you do worse. Do you remember when we were filming ‘The Grand Masquerade’ in Prague? You were running on three hours of sleep a night for a week. I thought you would fall asleep during filming and wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days.”

“I was younger then,” you shrugged it off. You eyed the script again, focusing on your notes. “ I don’t have the same energy.”

“It was three years ago.”

“Three years can be a long time.”

You could understand that better than anyone, considering that this year sometimes seemed like a decade to you. In a year, your whole life had changed. You were different, everything was different from last year. Three years could be a very long time, indeed. But also the blink of an eye.

One of the actors arrived and you both greeted him. Soon, he was swept away by the movement director.

“I think you need another break,” Will declared in all of his dramatic glory.

You tapped your long nails on your plastic cup, the action was strangely soothing. “I think I need another coffee.”

“You certainly need a break,” Will insisted. “And you certainly don’t need another coffee.”

He had noticed your restlessness, then. “We just came back from a break. And there is no time for another one. After we are done here, promotions for Six of Crows begin then there is the premiere and the tour and they are getting everything ready to begin filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts. And Crooked Kingdom is next year and I am very behind on that.”

Will’s face did that thing he did whenever he was done with you, his features slacking like he was bored and a little irritated. “You can’t be behind on something that hasn’t even started yet. Be serious.”

“I am. Deadly.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Break. You need a break.”

The rest of the actors arrived then and the subject was dropped in favor of going over the details of the scene with them. They took their places and filming began. There was a place where the scene kept being snagged and you had to go over it four times to get it right and five more to perfect it.

By the end, you were running like you were being hunted to find John and drive to the company building. The meeting as you had expected was long and tiring. At least, it was a productive one. You discussed the script, the new additions, and the schedule. You shared a few worries and disagreements you had and you mostly managed to find the middle ground. Another meeting would be held in a week before filming would officially start in a few weeks.

It was past eleven when you opened the door of the Castle. No one was in the living room, which was to be expected.

“I’m back!” you shouted, even though no one would hear you if they were in the garden. The night was warm and your skin felt stifling. Sweat dotted your forehead and the change of temperature, when you walked inside the air-conditioned Castle, sent a shock through your system. Your legs had turned to stones and you struggled to take off your shoes.

All you wanted was to fall asleep. You opened the balcony door and shouted again that you were back and that you would be in your room. You closed it before you could hear any replies.

In your room, you had to force yourself to change into your pajamas instead of falling face-first onto your bed in your dirty clothes. You didn’t have the energy to take a shower like you usually did at the end of the day. Your appetite had also disappeared. You hadn’t eaten dinner but you weren’t hungry. You were taking off your makeup in the bathroom when there was a knock on your door.

For a moment, you debated not answering but you dismissed the thought instantly.

“Come in,” you called. “I’m in the bathroom.”

You heard the door open and close again. You dragged the cotton pad roughly across your face, you didn’t have the patience to be gentle and it left your skin red. Some days it was just too sensitive.

“Are you alright?” The care in Seokjin’s voice tugged at the tight knot in your chest, loosened it. You glanced at the door but he wasn’t there.

Most of the makeup was gone from your face and you looked like a mess. You threw the cotton pads in the bin and washed your face quickly to get rid of the mascara under your eyes and any stubborn residues of makeup.

Seokjin was standing by your vanity, waiting for you. It wasn’t often that he came to your room. You weren’t used to seeing him there but it felt right.

“For someone who has been running around for more than sixteen hours, I am peachy,” you tried to joke but the delivery was lacking. It was confirmed by Seokjin’s frown.

“That’s too much, even for you. That isn’t healthy.”

“It is what it is,” you said, trying not to sound defensive. “It isn’t something I haven’t done before. And tomorrow’s schedule is easier so it’s alright.”

That didn’t seem to do anything to ease his mind. “Because you did it before, it doesn’t mean you should keep doing that.”

You rubbed your temples, your headache was getting worse. “There are things that need to get done. I can’t just stop because I’m tired. I get calls all day and my inbox is full of emails I haven’t answered yet. I have a million things on my plate, I can’t ignore them.”

“I know,” Seokjin said, his tone softer. He came closer to you and took your hand in his. The touch was grounding. You hadn’t realized you were spiraling until your feet were planted on the earth again. “We know how important your work is and how much effort you have put in to be where we are. It’s admirable and it’s incredible that you’ve managed to do all this. But your health is important too. You can’t keep running with an empty tank. You need to rest too.”

You heaved a sigh and let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. Your nose wasn’t as sensitive as a hybrid’s but breathing in the familiar sweetness calmed you. He hugged you and drew you closer to him, his hand kneading the tense muscles of your shoulders and the back of your neck.

“We missed you,” he said almost in a whisper.

“You always miss me.”

Seokjin stayed quiet but you both knew. They always missed you because you were always gone.

“You should eat something before you fall asleep. Yoongi and I made gnocchi with prosciutto and parmesan and garlic bread with mozzarella. I can bring it here but I think it would be best if you ate in the kitchen. Everyone wants to see you but they don’t want to bother you.”

The simple act of going to the kitchen sounded like climbing a mountain. Your bed looked too attractive, only a meter away and very very soft. Your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep and yet…

“I’ll come to the kitchen,” you said. Having woken up at five, you hadn’t seen anyone before leaving. The thought of not seeing them at all today left a sour taste in your mouth. “But can we stay here? For a bit?”

Seokjin placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Of course. For as long as you want.”

You lost track of time in his arms but no more than five minutes must have passed by the time you pulled back with a heavy heart. A temporary balm had been applied to the ailments of the day. You could hold yourself up for a few more minutes to eat a little, you had been doing it all day.

Your legs were as heavy as concrete walking to the kitchen. You had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, otherwise, you might just collapse. There was noise coming from the kitchen but your tired mind couldn’t register what they were saying.

You were surprised to see that everyone was there waiting for you, even Taehyung. Yoongi placed the plates in front of your seat and Jimin added the cutlery. Everyone else was sitting around the table in their usual stools.

Their greetings were quieter than usual and you guessed that they were conscious of how tired you were. You gave them the warmest smile you could master and patted Hoseok’s hair as you passed by to take your seat. The aroma of the food made your stomach growl, you hadn’t realized how hungry you had been before. Your appetite was back. Everything looked incredible as always and you couldn’t wait to dig in.

“Are you all just going to look at me while I eat?” you asked, picking up your fork.

The hybrids looked sheepish at your question.

“We just wanted to see you,” Jungkook said. “You left too early in the morning.”

You had to compose yourself to pierce a couple of gnocchi with your fork and not sigh out loud. Yoongi’s eyes were heavy on you, they were the ones you could detect with the most ease. You were the most aware of him.

“I had too much to do today. They have been bugging me from the studios for days. If I didn’t start early, I would have never finished. And I prefer an early morning to a late night. I tend to work better in the morning.”

You forced the fork to your mouth. You were ravenous but the conversation stalled your appetite.

“I would think that this was considered a late night,” Namjoon pointed out.

The taste, as expected, was heavenly. The creaminess of the parmesan sauce was tied perfectly with the savory crispy prosciutto. In your condition, you felt like it was wasted on you. As hungry as you were, you just wanted to put your fork down and go to sleep. But you couldn’t do that. You were better than that, you could eat something and then you could go to sleep. You could do that, you had done this before. Hadn’t you?

“This isn’t a late night,” you said after you swallowed the delicious bite. You had to eat another one. And another one. “Late nights can be anything from three a.m. to the next morning. This doesn’t happen often but I really had too many things to do. This is just for a few weeks because we’re moving very fast with the Raven Boys and filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts will start soon. There are a lot of meetings and things they need my opinion on, it will actually be better once filming starts. They don’t need me as much then.”

You pushed the gnocchi around and you could tell they didn’t believe you without looking at them. It was true that your workload was heavier these days but you couldn’t exactly guarantee that it would get better soon. Filming for the Raven Cycle had been going exceptionally well and it was moving faster than you had originally planned. It would be wrapping up by the end of September or by early October at the latest. Wrapping up was a lot of work, the beginning and the end were the busiest parts.

The rest of autumn was going to be very difficult too. There was the premier as well, which added to your workload greatly. It would take up all of November and the work for it would start from October. Maybe December would be calmer. Maybe.

You ate the rest of your meal in relative silence. They didn’t talk more about you leaving early and coming back late although you knew they wanted to. Their voices were quiet as they talked about anything from witches in cartoons to color theory. You let their words play in the background like the sound from a TV as you tried to eat as much as you could.

The result was a half-finished plate of gnocchi and one less garlic bread with mozzarella. Your eyes were closing involuntarily by then, staying closed for longer periods each time. If you didn’t go to sleep now, you would fall face-first into the gnocchi.

You slid off your seat and balanced yourself on numb legs. “Thank you for this, it was delicious. But I really need to go to sleep now.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin said, glancing at half of the food still on the plate. “You should rest.”

“At what time do you start work tomorrow?” Yoongi asked. He had been silent during your dinner and his voice rang louder than the rest to your ears.

It must have taken a few seconds to navigate the fog in your mind before you could answer. “Filming starts around nine, so I should be there by eight. Half past eight at most.”

“That’s still too early,” Hoseok said, frowning.

You waved their worries off. They had better things to worry about than the job you had been doing for half of your life. “It isn’t too early. I can sleep for a decent number of hours before I have to get ready. It’s alright, really. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams.”

With effort, you dragged your body to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning on the lights and stumbled to your bed guided only by the moonlight. There wasn’t a point in closing the blinds when you would wake up around the time the sun was rising. The light of your phone was too bright in the darkness and it made your eyes sting as you set an alarm.

A few messages caught your attention but a knock stopped you before you could open them.

“Come in,” you called, setting your phone aside. The door opened and the light from the hallway slipped in, outlining the silhouettes of the two hybrids. “Is everything okay?”

They both nodded and Jimin took a few steps into the room. “Can we sleep here tonight?”

“Both of you?” you asked, half-suppressing a yawn. Unlike Jimin, Jungkook hadn’t slept in your room before and the only time you had shared a bed was in Virginia.

Jungkook’s bunny ears drooped. “I can go, I don’t mind. I just missed you.”

“Sorry, that isn’t how I meant it.” Your surroundings were a bit blurry, the minutes stretched but were also impossibly short. It felt a little like life was a dream when you were tired like this. “Come in, both of you. And close the door behind you. It is blinding me a bit.”

They hurried inside and did as you told them. You couldn’t see them well as they moved through the darkness. They surrounded you, lying on different sides. Jimin didn’t hesitate to draw closer, throwing an arm over your stomach. Jungkook was a little stiffer on your left like he didn’t know how to situate himself. You found his hand, intertwining your fingers, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips.

It felt right, lying between them. Like that was how it was meant to be. But maybe that was the exhaustion talking, the dream realm slipping into the waking world.

“I missed you too,” you whispered. “Now sleep. I have an alarm set for the morning.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Summer bled seamlessly into autumn. The change wasn’t apparent in the Castle, autumn had only arrived in name. The heat was still there and would remain for some time. During the days, it still made sweat drip down your temples the few times you filmed outside the studios but the nights were comfortable and moon-bright.

You had a couple of hours free between takes and nothing to do so you got into your car (John had taken the day off to spend some time with Alice) and started the engine. “Nothing to do” was a relative term of course. There were many things you could be doing, countless extra little tasks that crowded your thoughts, but you disregarded all of them. You had been spending whole days away from home and you were beginning to feel guilty about it.

On your way back, you stopped by your favorite homemade gelato shop. In San Diego, you had gone for gelato the first day and the hybrids had loved it. You had made it a habit to get gelato at the beginning of each day during ComicCon, it was your little ritual. You had ordered gelato a couple of times to the Castle as well but with eight people, it didn’t last more than a day.

There were dozens of flavors behind the display case, all of them looking delectable. You got a wide variety, remembering the flavors they liked the most. You picked hazelnut, tiramisu, chocolate chip cookie, almond, caramel, coconut, cream and sour cherry, nutella, and vanilla and asked for 1 kilo of each to be delivered to your house. It was too hot and your house was too far to transport them in your car.

You didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes outside the gate before the delivery boy arrived. You got the bags full of gelato containers from him and sent him off with a hefty tip. The Castle was a long way from the heart of the city and anyone willing to make deliveries there deserved a nice tip.

Unlocking and opening the door was a struggle but you managed. You shouted you were back and fast-walked down the stairs, the plastic bags digging into your hands. On the second level, you were faced with Jungkook, who was also climbing the stairs to reach you. He looked as if he was ready to attack you with a hug before noticing the bags.

“A little help?” you asked, raising the bags a little higher. Your arms protested loudly.

Jungkook quickly took most of the bags from you and if you hadn’t been the one carrying them before, you would have believed they were light as a feather with the way he was holding them. “What are all these?” he asked, peeking into the bags. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened in realization when he spotted the containers. “Is that–?”

“Gelato,” you said, a little proud of yourself for thinking of making the stop on your way back.

Jungkook’s steps turned into little hops. “You are the best! How much did you get? Are these all different flavors?”

“You will see…”

Jungkook made a sound close to a petulant whine. “Come on,” he said, dragging the vowels. “What are they? Did you get hazelnut?”

“We’re almost there. You’ll see in a minute.” The garden was coming into view as you climbed down to the last level but Jungkook still turned back to pout at you. “Dramatic bunny,” you muttered lowly but not low enough for his enhanced hearing not to pick it up. You didn’t mind, his giggles were cute.

At the bottom of the stairs, Namjoon and Seokjin were waiting for you.

Seokjin squeezed your wrist in greeting before saying, “He is a very dramatic bunny.”

“Hey! You should be on my side!”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?” And that set off a round of bickering as they walked to the table to set down the bags.

Despite your protests, Namjoon took the last bags from you. “You should accept a little help from time to time,” he said firmly. You knew that he meant it for more than this. You decided to ignore it for now, you would overthink this later.

“Everyone, gather around! I brought gelato!” you called.

In a few minutes, everyone was gathered around the table. Hoseok, upon seeing the many containers of gelato, had done a happy dance, kissed your cheek and ran upstairs with Seokjin to get bowls and spoons. Jimin had wrapped himself around your back and was licking his lips, which was highly distracting. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.

Taehyung was the quietest one, as he usually was. He was sitting next to Yoongi, looking at all the containers with parted lips.

“I got gelato for us,” you told him. “It is really good. I got a lot of flavors so you can try as many as you want.”

“Gelato,” Taehyung repeated softly, gazing at the containers spread over the table.

Hoseok and Seokjin arrived with eight bowls, too many spoons and three ice cream scoops—you didn’t even know you had that many—and set them down around the table. You busied yourself with opening all the containers. You already knew which flavors you wanted so you grabbed one of the scoops and served yourself three scoops of ice cream.

Jimin had hooked his chin over your shoulder and wasn’t making any move to serve himself. That was up to you then.

“Which flavor do you want?” you asked him, dipping the scoop into the cup of water.

He rubbed his cheek against your shoulder lazily. “Hmmm, I think I want to try a few before I decide.”

You decided to indulge him, you liked it when he got playful and joked with you. You preferred when he was confident and asked for what he wanted. It was beautiful to witness how much he had changed through the months. You dipped a spoon into the flavors in your bowl first and brought them to his mouth. He savored each spoonful, humming and licking his full lips. He was so close to you, if you turned completely your noses would touch. How did you always end up in these situations lately?

“I want that too,” Jungkook said, pouting and pointing at your spoon. He was sitting at the bench and he had his own bowl in front of him, filled with four scoops of gelato.

“You want almond?” you asked.

“No, I want to be fed too.”

“You really are a baby,” Seokjin said. “Is that what’s going to be happening now? Whatever one has the other wants too?”

Jungkook looked away, taking his spoon again disappointed. “No, it just looked nice. It felt nice to be cared for when we were at the lake. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I just wanted to ask.”

At the lake, you had been feeding them strawberries dipped in chocolate and your mind had run too wild. You should stop thinking about that. “I want to, you are just a little far. I can’t really reach.”

Jimin was about to say something, probably offer a solution but before he could, Seokjin had picked up Jungkook and plopped him down in his lap.

“Here, I will feed you, you big baby. Is this alright?” he asked, ever caring.

Jungkook squirmed a little but seemed pleased, a light flush settling on his cheeks. “Yes, of course.” He was as tall as Seokjin but in his lap, he looked much smaller. He opened his mouth obediently when Seokjin brought the spoon to his lips.

Your eyes strayed to Taehyung, you were hyper-aware of him whenever you were in the same place. His eyes had that look that you couldn’t understand, it was there every time you interacted with the other hybrids lately. They were telling you that he was opening up more these days but to you, he remained a mystery.

In the end, Jimin ate most of your gelato and you scooped some chocolate chip cookie into your bowl because you knew how much he liked it. Hoseok and Namjoon closed the containers and carried them upstairs, they returned and went to sit by the pool. Yoongi finished quickly and lied down under the shade of the tree closest to them. Jungkook grew sleepy and turned to the side, laying his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. Jimin joined them, hugging Jungkook from the side.

Taehyung stayed at the bench like he wasn’t sure where he should go, his empty bowl in front of him.

“Did you like it?” you asked, gesturing to his bowl. Another reminder of your shortcomings, you didn’t even know how much he had progressed in English.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. The low timbre of his voice surprised you each time. You heard it so rarely that you didn’t get the chance to get used to it.

You should make an effort to talk to him, avoiding him would only make matters worse. But you couldn’t find anything to say. What exactly could you say to him, who had lived most of his life like a caged animal, who you had bought at an illegal auction?

Suddenly, you had the equivalent of a light bulb lighting up next to your head in a cartoon.

“Hobi told me you liked the painting of the pomegranate in the gallery,” you said then realized that pomegranate was probably a word he couldn’t understand and proceeded to explain the painting. “It has glass around it and a hand is holding it. Am I making sense?”

Seokjin looked at you amused but Taehyung nodded in understanding. “It is beautiful.”

“Right, it is,” you agreed. “The artist, the one who made it, is holding an exhibition in LA. We could go if you would like.”

You had bought the painting from her long before her fame had grown and spread. There was a magic to the way Eliana Velasco painted, everything came alive under her brush strokes. The painting of the pomegranate had enchanted you and given your history, you had to have it.

“Go?” he repeated, clearly confused.

“Yeah, to a place that has many of her paintings. You can see them there. Would you like that?” Talking to him, you were more nervous than at any of the award shows you had attended the past few years, more nervous than during any contract negotiations.

Taehyung’s eyes widened a fraction before he nodded. “Can I… see them?”

“Of course,” you said.

Jungkook stirred against Seokjin’s shoulder. “Are we going to an exhibition?”

“If you want to.”

“Are you going to be there too?” he asked and that was harder to answer. Your schedule was the busiest it had been in months and you were drowning in deadlines and responsibilities. You were saved from answering him by a notification on your phone. The numbers displaying the time showed that you were late to leave. You pocketed your phone and with quick goodbyes, you disappeared.

 You were so stupid. You had offered to take Taehyung to an exhibition when work was wrapped around you like a noose. But you had panicked. Eliana had sent you an invitation for the opening night, promising there would be French champagne and hors d’ oeuvres. You had attended plenty of her exhibitions and had many conversations about art and life and their inter-connected philosophy while drinking champagne or wine and staring at paintings.

Although Taehyung’s situation was solved and Amelia had let you know some time ago that legally you were safe, going to the opening night didn’t sound like a good idea. There would be many journalists there who would love to write a piece about you and your sudden decision to adopt so many hybrids. They could go without you another day, that wouldn’t be too bad. Taehyung looked so hopeful and now that you had said it, you couldn’t take it back. You could text Eliana and ask her if she could meet you there one day so you could introduce her to them.

You should try and get some time off.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It was like a curse, to not be able to sleep in the very few hours you could afford to. Your bed was empty and cold and you couldn’t get comfortable regardless of how much you twisted and turned. Your limbs were too long and awkward and nothing felt right. All the wild thoughts you couldn’t be bothered with during the day showed up one after the other to be examined from every angle and set aside to pick up the next one. It was a losing battle and yet you insisted on fighting it every time before giving in, getting up and popping a pill into your mouth.

You returned the bottle to the cabinet and closed it. After Seoul, for some time it had returned to your bedside table but after a couple of weeks had passed it felt like you were admitting defeat by keeping it there. The image in the mirror was a far cry from the celebrity you were supposed to be. The darkness under your eyes formed bruises, getting worse by the day. Your skin had grown pale and your hair was a mess, you hadn’t had enough strength to braid it before attempting to fall asleep.

You considered going back to bed but the pills could take up to an hour to work when your insomnia reached its peak and you were craving a snack. Something small and sweet sounded nice.

Once again, you had returned late and eaten dinner alone. Your appetite was lacking although the food was delicious. Sometimes, it got like that when you were too tired. You had promised yourself to limit early mornings and late nights but that had changed when you had texted Eliana about the exhibition. She had offered to accompany you to the exhibition on one of the days it was closed to the public and you were more than thankful to her but that also meant that you would have to take half the day off.

The TV was on in the living room, subtitles displayed at the bottom of the screen with no sound. Namjoon was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and watching with distracted eyes. Everyone else had departed to their rooms for the night. His ears twitched as you took a few more steps and he turned to look at you.

You waved your hand, trying to offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He sat up straighter. “Hi. Why are you still awake? Do you need something?”

“Just some water. Maybe a snack.”

“You were really tired when you went to bed. Did you not fall asleep?” he asked, frowning.

You shrugged. “I couldn’t. It’s one of those nights. If I eat something, maybe I will fall asleep easier. A full stomach and all that.” You didn’t mention the pill, it was awkward to do that. “Don’t let me disturb you. I’ll just grab something and go back to bed.”

Namjoon got up and in a few strides, he was standing in front of you. He caressed your cheek, searching for something in your eyes. You weren’t sure what he could see there. “I’ll join you. Let’s sit together for a bit. I haven’t seen you properly in a few days.”

“But you must have stayed back to watch that,” you said. A documentary was playing on the TV, something about Egyptian history.

“It doesn’t matter. I would rather spend my time with you. Unless you don’t want to, then I’ll go back to the couch and be very quiet.”

You slid your hand in his, the touch grounding you in a night that felt both like you were wide awake and caught in a blurry dream. “I would like some company. I’ve missed you too. I’m–”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. There is no need for that.”

He leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered for a few moments, warmth spreading inside you. You raised your head and captured his lips in a kiss. The worst part was that you couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had last shared a kiss. His lips were velvet as you remembered them. This was home. Running back and forth, you had forgotten what it felt like.

You pulled back and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

In the kitchen, Namjoon stood next to you as you rummaged through the cupboards for something that looked appetizing to you. The cupboards were full and yet nothing was calling to you until Namjoon remembered that Seokjin had made ice cream sandwiches with the gelato you had bought and various kinds of cookies. That sounded like heaven so you opened the freezer and chose two of them.

You leaned against the counter, shoulder to shoulder with Namjoon, while you devoured them. Gelato might not have been the best idea to put you to sleep but they tasted heavenly. The pill would start working sooner or later.

“Is it worse today?” he asked. He didn’t elaborate further, he didn’t have to.

The ice cream sandwiches were gone and you were left holding the plate. You licked your fingers and placed it in the sink. “I have a lot of things on my mind. I should be too tired to think but apparently, I’m never too tired for that.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Everything, more or less.” You turned to the side, facing him. “There’s too much to think about and not enough time. Never enough time,” you muttered the last sentence to yourself. If you had all the time in the world it would still not be enough, you would find a way to fill it. “I’ve been putting everything off. Everything I don’t want to deal with or I don’t know how to deal with. And the longer I put it off, the worse it gets.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, taking in what you said and pondering how to reply. It was beautiful, how his mind worked and how attentive he was. “If there is any way we can help you, anything I–we can do, we will. Whatever you want to do, we will support you. Sometimes, in our head, we can make things look bigger, more scary than they are. Do you want to talk about them? Maybe if you talk about what you have to do or what you’re worried about, it will be easier to work out the best way to approach them.”

That was something your therapist used to tell you, that while things festered in your head, they would only get more tangled and more daunting. She had suggested writing them down or talking to her about them. She was right, you knew she was right and that it helped and yet you hadn’t stopped to do that.

You took a deep breath, debating if it would be better to find a notebook and figure out your mess on paper instead of dragging Namjoon into it. But there was a part of you that itched to confide in him and give in to the way you felt safe when you were together. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” you confessed.

You started slowly, with your usual worries about Taehyung, how he was adjusting and how little time you were spending with him and if that was for the best. It was the same old spiralling, you had poked and prodded at it so many times and Namjoon must have been bored of listening to the same rehashed concerns, yet he didn’t interrupt you. You unravelled steadily, once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. There was the filming for the Raven Cycle, the final touches of Six of Crows, the premiere and the weeks of promotions and the anticipation for the reviews of the critics and the audiences. The book you hadn’t finished and the deadline you couldn’t meet.

You rubbed your hands over your face. It had been so long since most of those problems had surfaced and you were ashamed that you hadn’t faced them yet. “And we haven’t told anyone about us. We said we would and I know you’re waiting for me but I’m never here. And I don’t know how.”

Namjoon caught your hand and brought it to his lips. Lowering it, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. They will understand and they will be happy for us. You shouldn’t let this keep you awake, everything will be alright. They are our pack, this won’t change anything.”

“But…” The anxiety that persisted. “Yoongi. What if his reaction is… bad. You know what he said.”

“That was before.” He sounded sure but there was a tightness at his jaw. “It is different now. He is different, you can see it. He is softer around the edges, he even helps Jin in the kitchen. He’s settling in.”

 “Because he doesn’t know,” you said. “You remember what he said, right? That night? That I adopted you so I could take my pick and now there is Jin and it’s just too much like that, can’t you see it?”

“It’s nothing like that. We both–” Namjoon stiffened, his gaze locking somewhere towards the entrance. “Yoongi?”

Your heart rate sped up, a knot forming in your chest. Yoongi walked in, his socked feet not making a sound. How much had he heard? The last minutes of the conversation replayed in your mind in a panicked mess. What had you said? How long had he been there, listening to you, before Namjoon noticed him? What conclusions would he reach?

Instinctively, you tried to get away from Namjoon but his hold on your hand kept you there.

The panther’s face didn’t give anything away. You couldn’t read him regardless of how much you studied him. You didn’t know his tells, if he had any. His expression was a carefully curated mask of apathy and you couldn’t see past it. Or you didn’t dare to try. Maybe you were too afraid of what you would find.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, voice missing some of its smoothness.

Namjoon held your hand tighter. “You are the only one who can sneak up on me.”

You swallowed down your anxiety and tried to think of him the way he was the past few months, when he helped you with rearranging your office, him playing the piano in the afternoons, your walk at the lake, the vague memory of him helping you up to your room when you were drunk in Virginia. But they were all pushed back by the memory of his snarl and his sharp teeth that night.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, forcing your voice to be steady. He was going to learn of it at some point and as scared as you were, you had to face this.

“Enough.” His tail curled behind him and stilled. “You are afraid of my reaction to something. Is that it?”

Your eyes locked with Namjoon’s and he nodded. This time you weren’t going to run. This time would be different. “Yes, there is something we wanted to tell you. Something we wanted to tell everyone. I didn’t know how to tell you, that’s all.”

“You can tell me now,” he said and it sounded almost like a dare. You weren’t sure if you were walking into a trap.

Namjoon spoke up before you could. “You remember that the two of us are… We are together, as humans would say, romantically.” Yoongi nodded. You couldn’t imagine how he could forget. “That extends to Jin now. We love him and he loves us.” It was almost like he was challenging him to say anything but Yoongi was quiet.

“We didn’t know how to tell everyone. And you…” You didn’t know how to finish.

He scoffed. “I was an asshole.” One side of his lips was twisted up but something about it hurt. “You didn’t want to tell me because I was an asshole when I found out about you two. Worse than an asshole.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, his shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. For a moment, you wished to reassure him but what he was saying was the truth. “I understand. I’m not– I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry.”

He turned to leave but, through your confusion, you knew you didn’t want him to go.

“Wait,” you called. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Let’s talk. We need to talk.”

Yoongi looked at you over his shoulder. This time, you studied him without your heavy-duty lenses, without the fear of discovery. Like the expression of an actor, you picked apart the tiniest details to paint a picture. When your own barriers were gone, it was easier to see.

“What is there to talk about?” he asked.

“A lot. Things we should have talked about sooner.” Communication was a golden rule in your handbook and you used to be good at it, you tried to be good at it. The misunderstanding trope was overused and useless when the issue could be resolved with a simple conversation.

It was about time you stopped walking on eggshells.

“We never truly talked about it,” you started. “And I didn’t really want to because things were going so well. They are going well. But you are my family now.” His lips parted, only slightly but you caught it. “I can’t know how all of you see it, if it’s the same for you, but that’s the way I feel. And I want to be honest with you. I still think about what you said in the garden and sometimes it affects me more than I would like. However, I would like to put it behind us but I want to know what you think.”

His eyes were sharp but you weren’t fooled this time. “Can we? Can we really put it behind us?”

 Namjoon was silent next to you, he was letting you handle it.

“I think we are already beginning to.” You took a deep breath in preparation. There was a question that could make or break this peace between you and you were both dreading and dying to ask. “Do you think that I’m taking advantage of them because I love them romantically?”

His eyes widened. “No,” he denied sharply. “No, of course I don’t.”

It was like a knot unravelling in your heart. Although there was a part of you that had known, the relief was still there. “Then we can move past it. We can try again. We are already trying again.”

“How?” Yoongi asked and he sounded smaller, much smaller than you were used to.

The pills were beginning to act, it was a light drowsiness at first. You had to do this quickly before you fell asleep and crumbled down on the floor.

“The same way we are doing now. By doing our best.”

“I am trying” His hands clenched into fists and loosened again. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You don’t need to be. Not anymore. As long as I know that we are fine.” Your eyes were growing heavier and the fog was slipping in. “I think we should go to bed now,” you said. It was getting more and more difficult to open your eyes.

You must have stumbled or something because you heard Yoongi ask, “Are you alright?” at the same time as Namjoon’s “Do you want help?”

You waved them both off. “I’m fine. It’s the pills.” It was easier to admit when you were almost asleep. One moment your feet were on the floor and the next you were up in the air. “Joon?”

“I’m taking you to your room. It’s time for sleep.” One of his arms was under your knees and the other was holding you close to his body.

“Namjoon, I can walk,” you protested weakly. Namjoon shushed you and you let it go. You were so incredibly sleepy and you were safe there. You relaxed in his arms and finally closed your eyes.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Most of the flowers were drooping in the garden of the Castle. Namjoon and Jimin were attempting to keep them alive for as long as possible before fall swept them away. They cut off the dead leaves, watered the plants and applied the appropriate fertilisers. There were also varieties that lasted all year and the gardener had taught them how to take care of them too.

“These won’t last much longer,” Jimin said, running his fingers gently over the petals of a slowly wilting flower.

“They will bloom again in spring,” Namjoon reassured him. “Each season has its beauty and these belong to spring and summer. Autumn has its own colors too but they are different.”

Jimin pulled his hand back and grabbed the watering can. “I know, but I will miss them.”

Namjoon patted his head and Jimin preened under his touch, chasing his hand. He was too cute sometimes and Namjoon adored him. “It’s okay to miss it but you can also be happy about the new things that are coming. Miss Roberts said she will bring sunflowers and hydrangeas to plant next week, it will add some color. When something ends, something else begins.”

Jimin giggled, watering the flowers although they would be dead next week. “Nora has told you many times to call her by her name.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. “I forgot. I’m trying.”

Yoongi came out of the house, a book in his hand. He had been visiting the library more lately. Namjoon had been wondering where he had been. The rest of the pack had holed up in the cinema room to watch a comedy and, like the two of them, Yoongi had opted out but they hadn’t seen him since.

“Yoongi!” Jimin called, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the watering can. “Come here. Sit with us, we are almost done.”

Yoongi paused, glancing at the table and benches on the other side of the garden.

“Come on,” Namjoon called for him as well. That was enough to sway Yoongi’s decision, who made his way to them.

Jimin bounced up to him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the flower bushes they were tending to. Yoongi grumbled about the rough treatment but Namjoon wasn’t fooled, the upturn of his lips was small but unmistakable.

Jimin explained to him what they had been doing so far and Yoongi listened to him attentively.

“They are beautiful. You have been doing a really good job. Both of you,” he said, his eyes darting to Namjoon.

He was tense, it wasn’t obvious but Namjoon could pick it up. He gave him a smile, hoping he would relax. Yoongi confused him but he thought he could understand him a little better now. “Thank you. What are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” Yoongi raised the book a little and shrugged. “I saw it and I thought it was interesting.”

“I haven’t seen that before,” Namjoon said.

The cover was painted in shades of yellow and orange, framing two pyramids. Without saying anything, Yoongi handed him the book. It was called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it was a relatively short book. He turned it around to look at the synopsis and Jimin peeked at it over his shoulder. Namjoon wondered if you had read it or if it had been sitting there unread on your shelves for years. There were so many books in your library and you had admitted that you hadn’t read most of them, but you had also told them that once upon a time you used to read a hundred books a year.

“It does sound interesting,” Namjoon commented, passing back the book. “You should tell me if it is any good when you finish it.”

Yoongi looked down at the book’s cover. “I will.”

Jimin declared that they were done with gardening for the day and grabbed both of their hands, pulling them to the shade underneath one of the trees. They sat down and he situated himself with his head in Namjoon’s lap and his legs in Yoongi’s. Yoongi cracked open his book and began to read while Jimin talked about flowers.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

“And… CUT!” you called. It was repeated again by Will and the actors relaxed, the expressions of their characters wiped clean. “That will be it for today. Thank you everyone!”

The crew buzzed as the cameras and the sound systems were turned off. People were talking to their earpieces and others were giving pats on the back to each other for another successful day on set. Crew members passed by and offered their congratulations to you.

“What are you rushing for?” Will asked.

You continued throwing everything carelessly into your backpack. “I’m visiting the gallery today, remember?”

“Right, that’s today,” he said, snapping his fingers. Some things stuck with you in entertainment. For example, the overexaggerated gestures. “I thought you had a company meeting dressed like this. A very important one.”

In the morning, you had put more thought into your outfit compared to a simple filming day. You were wearing tan trousers and a form-fitting black top embellished by a crossover belt that wrapped around the body and was tied together with a golden Medusa head emblem. The heels, the golden earrings, bracelets, and rings confirmed that filming wasn’t the only thing on your schedule.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder (you would switch it later with a black Dior bag you had in your car). “No meetings for me today. I really have to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Have a good time, boss!”

You greeted any familiar faces on your way to your car and sent a quick message to Namjoon that you would be picking them up soon. The 8-seater car was an impulse purchase at a time when you had a larger friend group. You hadn’t used it much, only for a couple of short trips to private beaches.

You checked your appearance in the visor mirror and reapplied some powder and lipstick. You looked good enough, there wasn’t much more you could do.

The hybrids were waiting by the fountain. They had dressed nicely for the occasion, wearing some of the more formal outfits you had bought for them. You could feel the excitement in the air as they climbed into the car. It had been a long time since you had gone to the city like this. Jimin was quick to slide into the passenger seat, followed by a little happy dance at his success.

The exhibition was taking place in Central Los Angeles, housed in a tall and wide building that appeared to be made up of several cubes that jutted out of the main structure. Jungkook and Hoseok had their phones out, taking photos of the strange building. Distantly, you remembered coming here before but you couldn’t place when or why.

Eliana was waiting for you inside wearing a simple flowing blue dress and a large smile. You greeted each other with a hug and proceeded to introduce the boys to her. She shook their hands enthusiastically and in a few seconds she had already engaged them in a conversation about art. Usually, she talked quickly like she was rushing to get everything out before she forgot but she was talking slowly now, using simpler words and waiting for Hoseok to translate whenever he deemed he should.

She guided you through the gallery, floating ahead of you. She gave explanations of some of her works while she let others speak for themselves. Taehyung’s eyes were sparkling while she talked, in a way you had never seen before. His smile stayed on during your whole visit, big and boxy, and you finally felt like you were doing something right.

The other hybrids seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. Namjoon was asking plenty of questions about the meaning behind the paintings and her inspiration and Jungkook was very interested in the more technical aspect of her work. She readily answered all of their questions and when you pointed out that Jungkook spent a lot of his time painting, she encouraged him to show her some of his work. Although he was shy, hiding behind his floppy ears at first, Eliana managed to convince him to show her a few of the paintings he had on his phone. She was stunned when you told her he had only been painting for a few months and Jungkook grew even shier when she showered him in compliments.

At the end of the tour, she let you wander the gallery by yourselves for some time and then suggested going to the gallery’s gardens to hang out. The gardens were of considerable size, about as large as the inside of the gallery. Neatly trimmed flower bushes lined the pathways and plenty of modern sculptures decorated the space. A large fountain stood proudly in the middle and there was an artfully made gazebo raised on a platform at a far corner, overlooking the gardens.

You offered to go get some coffee and some baked goods from a nearby bakery/coffee shop you had found on the internet. Eliana protested at first but she gave in quickly at the promise of an iced Spanish latte and muffins. Namjoon volunteered to accompany you, although what surprised you was Yoongi offering to come along.

“You need more than two people to carry everything,” was the only explanation you got. You couldn’t deny that he was right.

He hadn’t been acting any different towards you since you had let him know about the nature of your relationship with Seokjin, so you acted the same way you always did too. His quiet acceptance was more than enough for you and it was a great weight off your shoulders.

You were talking about the exhibition, not surprised that Yoongi had been paying close attention to the paintings as he recalled his favorites, when a call of your name surprised you. The voice was familiar and, for a few seconds, you couldn’t place it. Until you could. And the peace froze over.

You turned around to find Jacob waving at you in the quiet street. His hair was cut much shorter than the last time you had seen him and his white loose pants and half-unbuttoned shirt made him look like he had just stepped off a yacht party. Maybe he had. His thousand-watt smile, reminiscent of a politician, was fixed firmly on his face.

“Hey, I knew it was you,” he said when he caught up with you, like he had won a prize. He pulled you into a quick hug and you didn’t know what to do with your hands until he let you go. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

You wiped invisible dust from your trousers. “Yeah, I’ve been very busy.”

“You were never  one for rest, right? The woman always running, always working, never has time for anything else,” he joked and it shouldn’t bother you the way it did. He gestured to Yoongi and Namjoon, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Namjoon looked politely curious and Yoongi downright uninterested.

“Right,” you said. “This is Yoongi and Namjoon. And this is Jacob.”

Their eyes sharpened the moment you uttered the name.

“I’m just Jacob now?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “After three years? Not even a friend?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t like we’ve spoken since last year.”

Initially after your breakup, you used to imagine how your next meeting would go and how the two of you would act around each other. Three years was a long time to share your life with someone to then go back to being strangers. You hadn’t entertained the idea much since then, you had found yourself thinking about him less and less. Still, whenever you thought about meeting him, you hadn’t anticipated the bitterness that grazed your insides.

Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you said you were busy. I have been busy as well, I’m working with a few very big names, you know. I got my hands on some of the best songs of the year.”

“I’m sure they’re great.”

“Haven’t you listened to any of them? You must have heard a few of them. They were everywhere.” Jacob was talented enough and well-connected and he sure liked to brag about it. “I asked Zayn and he said you were doing well, working of course. And you got yourself some company too.”

You clenched your jaw to bite back the harshness burning on the tip of your tongue. You hated the way he said it and the way it reminded you of your mother.

“It was a bit of a surprise, I’ll admit. I don’t remember you ever talking about adopting, you didn’t seem a big fan of the idea. No offense of course,” he directed the last part to Namjoon and Yoongi.

“Things change,” you said dismissively. “We have to go. There are people waiting for us.”

Jacob’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes narrowed a fraction for only a second. He may only be part of your past but you could still read him well. Was it the same for him? Had he ever been able to read you in the first place?

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.”

You turned around and started walking, Namjoon and Yoongi following you. Last year you loved him enough to move in with him and this year you couldn’t stand to be in his presence. You thought you would feel nothing when you’d see him again but the truth was that everything about him irritated you. His poised smile, his bragging, his nonchalance.

Why was he able to get under your skin like this? You were over him, you didn’t want anything to do with him. But you were supposed to be civil, uninterested like the heroines who didn’t raise more than an eyebrow in the direction of their exes. It irked you and the way he looked at Namjoon and Yoongi irked you more. You had defended him to everyone, he wasn’t a bad guy, he didn’t treat you badly but as time passed you were starting to realize some things you couldn’t see clearly before.

Yoongi was the first one to speak up when you had almost reached the coffee shop, “What an asshole.”

“He isn’t–” You stopped yourself and laughed. “You know what? He is, a little bit.”

“A little bit?” he repeated, doubtfully.

“I don’t want to judge but…” The way Namjoon paused told you everything you needed to know. “I had to try very hard to stop myself from growling at him.”

Yoongi smirked. “Down, wolf.” Namjoon ignored him.

“Thank you for not doing that, that wouldn’t have ended well. Please, don’t growl at people.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that.”

Well, you couldn’t say that you minded that much. You could admit to yourself that Namjoon growling was kind of hot. And if the situation called for it…

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you,” Namjoon said. “It was weird. There was something about it that was wrong, almost demeaning.”

“He can be like that sometimes. Like he is above almost everyone else, like some things are beneath him. He would make those stupid comments and I would always try to ignore them,” He was always supportive of your career and proud of your success but he had never shown interest in any of your other hobbies and likes. Reading was boring, paintings were overrated and overpriced, drinking tea was pretentious. “I never thought I would be one of those shit-talking their exes unless they did something really bad.”

“I support this shit-talking,” Namjoon said.

“I do too,” Yoongi agreed.

It made a strangely pleasant feeling run up your spine. “We’re here,” you said, instead of continuing the conversation. According to Google Maps, you had arrived at the coffee shop.

As you walked inside, you might have heard Yoongi saying lowly to Namjoon, “I kind of wanted to punch him.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were sitting on the chair in front of your vanity, braiding your hair and stuck thinking of the same scene. Before going to his room for the night, Taehyung had approached you and thanked you for taking him to the exhibition. His expression was sincere and you finally felt like you were moving in the right direction. 

When there was a knock at your door, you already knew who it was before you called for them to come in.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” Jimin asked, Jungkook draped over his back.

“When have I ever told you no?” you asked, finishing your braid and securing it in place with a silky scrunchy. “Go on.”

They both hopped on the bed, bouncing a little and sharing delightful smiles. You watched them through the mirror as they rolled around, holding each other.

Jimin looked up from where he was tangled with Jungkook, holding your gaze through his reflection. “Are you coming?”

“I am, I am,” you said, putting your brush back in the drawer.

You joined them on the bed, their hands quickly reaching for you and situating you between them like the last time. Jimin purred in contentment, rubbing his face in your collarbones. Jungkook held onto your arm and you could feel his breath caressing your neck with how close he was lying. 

An unwanted echo of what Jacob had said entered your mind.  Always working, never having time for anything else or anyone else, even the ones most important to you. You were gone most of the days and it made sense that they wanted to be close to you at least at night.

“Did you have fun today?” you asked them to distract yourself. 

“I loved it! Eliana was so nice and her paintings were incredible,” Jimin said.  “I took so many photos, my phone must be full of them.”

Jungkook nuzzled up closer to you. “I took many photos too. Can we print the one we took of us all together? I want to put it in our room.”

“Yes, please,” Jimin added cutely.

“Of course. You should print a couple more too, if you want, and choose some pretty frames for them. There is a lot of free space in your room.”

They cheered a little. You lied there in comfortable silence but you could detect a nervous energy in the air. It was in the way Jimin was fidgeting with the hem of your silk night shirt and how tightly Jungkook was gripping your arm. You waited until they were ready.

“We actually… we have something to tell you,” Jimin said.

“Anything you want, kitten,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. You could see how the use of the nickname affected him, squirming a little as his smile grew sweeter. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I just–” He looked at Jungkook, who gave him an encouraging nod. “I kissed him, we kissed. And… it makes me very happy.”

Jungkook caught Jimin’s hand that was pulling at your shirt and intertwined their fingers, laying their joint hands on your stomach. “He makes me very happy too,” he said in a small voice.

The new knowledge was like a puzzle piece sliding into place. It felt natural to you that their relationship would progress like that. The way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other, was evidence of a deeply intimate connection. If the image your mind conjured of them kissing lit a spark in your chest, you hid it even from yourself.

“Thank you for telling me. If it makes you happy, then I am happy too. All I want for you is to be happy and know how loved you are. Come here.” You pulled them closer and placed lingering kisses on their foreheads. “I will always support you. Always.” You took a decision then. You couldn’t put it off any longer. “I have something to tell you too. Jimin already knows but Jungkook, I would like for you to know too. I don’t know how to say this exactly and I’m sorry we’ve kept this from you but I, Namjoon and Jin have been romantically involved. All of us. We have been kissing too.”

“Oh.” Jungkook paused. “That makes sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, Jimin joining you. “I mean you’re very close and it just makes sense. We’re pack and I think that most packs are a little in love with each other, in one way or another,” he said. His cheeks felt hot against your shoulder.

In one way or another. He was right, it was such a special bond and you could imagine that for hybrids who felt the sense of pack deeper, the lines were easily blurred. A door opened in your mind but you closed it again forcefully.

Jimin fit his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you. I love you so much, all of you. Our pack. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you. I don’t know if I deserve this.” His voice was wet.

“You do,” you stated. “You deserve everything and more. And we love you so much. So much.”

Jungkook squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jiminie. Our pack wouldn’t be complete without you. We need you to be whole. We need everyone.”

Their hands remained linked over your abdomen as you fell asleep.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

[onehoplessromantic]

MASTERLIST

Jeon Jungkook | Min Yoongi | Lee Minho | Lee Felix | Kim Mingyu | Bang Chan | Kim Namjoon | Jung Hoseok | Choi Seungcheol

-constantly being updated- <- (that’s a lie)

updated 8/11/2024 [guilty pleasures wc, for the birds ch 3, link check]

!!authors!! if u want ur work removed plz dm me:)

Helloooo! its been a while hasn’t it? School is dying down so I finally had a chance to update this master list! I have updated the counts and info on fics that were already there and added a bunch more (new idols get hype). another fun new thing is that im going to open my taglist, so whenever i update a new chapter or add a new fic or whatever, whoever wants to will get a notification. all you have to do is just add a note to the post that says “taglist” and ill add u, im trusting that youre over 16. anyways! enjoy the new library of fics!!!

peace 🫶🏻

PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well

fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️

Jeon Jungkook

♡ I Want You to Stay | @ahundredtimesover

series | wc: 261.3k | 🌧️🤍‼️

boss!jungkook x assistant!reader

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

idiot strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers if you squint, k-drama feels, angst, drama, fluff, smut, sexual themes, power dynamics, anxiety, depictions of assault and aggression [chapter 8] (specific warnings on post)

♡ strong enough | @hyukaslvr

series *ongoing* | current wc: 32k | 🌧️

idol!jungkook x idol!reader

idiot exes to lovers, slow burn, kdrama feels (kind of like our beloved summer minus the salt and water if yk loll), angst, drama, fluff, smut

♡ guilty pleasures | @kookslastbutton

series *ongoing* | current wc: 28.4k | 🌧️🍋

ceo!jungkook x reader (?) idol!tae x reader

!!!okay so the fate of the story has not yet been decided, you’ll get it once you read!!! (not poly!!)

angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto (?), coworkersto (?), unrequited love, smut, sexism, morally grey-ness, swearing, alcohol consumption, sexism in media and business, toxic relationships, abandonment issues, explicit sexual content

♡ things you don’t know | @btsgotjams27

oneshot | wc: 4.3k | 🌧️🤍

jungkook x f!reader

angst, ex best friends au, language, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up

“i thought i’d never see you again”

♡ the farmhouse | @solecize

series | wc: 52.3k | 🌧️🤍

jungkook x reader

estranged friends to lovers, small town au, childhood best friends, slice of life, cowboy-ish jungkook, grief, mentions of death, death, fear, drinking and substance use, mutually pining, explicit language, jk as a parental figure (you’ll see), angst, fluff, growing up

♡ Chasing Cars | @oddinary4bts

series *ongoing* | current wc: 155.2k | 🌧️🍋

brothers best friend!jungkook x younger sister!reader

18+ mdni!, forbidden love? au, college!au, slice of life, smut, angst, fluff

♡ The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes | @oddinary4bts

oneshot | wc: 52.9k | 🌧️🍋

idol!jungkook x tattoo-artist!reader

fwb to lovers, idol!au, angst (a lot), smut (a whole lot too), fluff, oc’s ex-boyfriend died and it takes an important place in the story, swearing, fuckboy Jungkook, fuckgirl oc, a whole bunch of red flags, miscommunication (they learn how to communicate don’t worry), exes that can’t stay out of your life, alcohol, they be a little toxic but they get better, explicit content: fingering, pussy slapping, squirting, oral sex (male and female receiving), mouth fucking, dirty talking, jungkook has a slight begging kink and an exhibitionism kink (not that present in the fic), dom!jk, switch!reader, car sex, sex in a tent, hair pulling (I think), tits/nipple play, unprotected sex, a little bit of ass slapping, mentions of choking

♡ For the Birds | @yoonieper

series *ongoing* | current wc: 65.9k | 🌧️🤍🍋‼️

jungkook x reader

slow burn, lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! please read with caution!!

♡ how long will we fall | @jiminrings

oneshot | wc: 14k | 🌧️

jungkook x reader

soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love, a lot of angst, more fluff n wholesome moments, emotional constipation, yearning, jealousy, swearing, redemption arc, ngl jk kinda toxic

♡ touchin’ | @whatifyoulivelikethat

oneshot | wc: idk loll | 🍋🍋🍋

jungkook x reader

rated M (18+) for language, lovers that call themselves friends-with-benefits because jk is a fool, both parties are freaking annoying tbh, smut (fem reader, double lip piercing jk, heavy petting, standing doggy with clothes on, lots of neck making out, light nipple play, lowkey forearm kink), fluff, non-idol!au - jk is wearing the outfit from his 2023.06.29 weverse live

i dont usually recommend smut but this was just too good not to

♡ first class | @girlygguk

oneshot | wc: 25k+ | 🍋🤍🌧️

rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

childhood best friends, nepo baby!reader & jk, kth younger sister!reader, heavy pining, language, emotionally constipated characters, miscommunication, toxic/unhealthy friendships, fwb relationship, fighting, blood, alchohol consumption, smut (see fic for full warnings there was way too many to write here)

♡ meraki | @taegularities

series | wc: n/a | 🤍🍋

grumpy!jk ( + photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader

e2l, fluff, smut

all thats out for this right now is the teaser, full warnings to come soon, it looks incredible and i hope yall check it out!

Min Yoongi

♡ Countermelody | @bonvoyagenoona

series | wc: ~100k | 🍋🌧️🤍

yoongi x reader

small town enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, humor, producers!yoongi, hobi, namjoon, songwriters!yoongi, hobi, namjoon, musician!reader

♡ Oh! Darling | @yoongiofmine

series | wc: 108k | 🤍🍋🌧️

professor!yoongi x student!reader

fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au, mild age gap (emphasis on mild, yn in grad school and yoongi in his early 30s), forbidden romance

♡ Kitsungi | @moni-logues

series | wc: 105k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️

yoongi x reader

strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non idol!au, angst, smut, eventual fluff ‼️alchohol consumption, yoongi and reader are both depressed, depressive episodes, attempted suicide, toxic relationships (readers ex), jokes about death, death, vomit, self harm, self deprecation, language (specific warnings posted for each chapter)

NOTE: please read the warnings carefully, there is a lot of heavy topics in this read

♡ Grey Area | @blushoseoks

series *ongoing* | current wc: 98,832 | 🌧️🍋

min yoongi x reader

heavy angst, language, alcohol consumption, university au, soulmate au, eventual smut, weed consumption, slow burn, death

♡ Illicit Favors | @yoongiofmine

oneshot | wc: 29k | 🍋🍋🍋

producer!yoongi x author!reader

smut with plot, friends to lovers, smut, more smut, even MORE smut, mutual pining, virgin reader, teaching sex au, this oneshot is amazing plz read it

♡ back-burner | @yoonpobs

series | wc: 95k | 🌧️🍋‼️

yoongi x f!reader

sisters best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenimies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff, one sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, insecurities, family trauma, explicit language, eventual smut, eventual fluff, MAJOR ANGST, sexual harassment, mentions of poor mental health, alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of poor health, neglecting ones health [specific warnings in chapters]

guys this is another decently heavy one with a lot of sensitive topics so make the decision that is best for you while reading this

Kim Mingyu

♡ Today was (not) a fairytale | @babyleostuff

oneshot | wc: 1.6k | 🌧️🤍

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

established relationship, mingyu forgets your anniversary…

♡ Snowbound | @papermatisse

series *ongoing* | current wc: 17.6k | 🌧️🌧️🌧️

kim mingyu x f!reader

death mentioned/near death experiences, depression, unresolved mourning, cursing, emotional neglect, slight age gap (mingyu is slightly aged up), reader implied to be smaller than mingyu, stranger danger (?), extreme weather (?)

♡ How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread) | @gyuswhore

oneshot | wc: 12.4k | 🌧️🤍

idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

one sided pining, slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, reader has issues opening up

♡ Hits Different (…’cause it’s you) | @gyuswhore

2-part series | wc: 40k | 🌧️🤍🍋

kim mingyu x reader

based off ‘hits different’ by taylor swift, brothers best friend!au, brother!seokmin, smut (part 2), friends(?) to lovers, university!au, slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, theres another woman (gasp…..but shes cool so), nayeon is a darling, seungchol is kind of annoying but we love him, smut tags in part 2

♡ Backburner | @spamgyu

series | wc: im not counting loll | 🌧️🤍

seungcheol x reader | mingyu x reader

she had grown tired of being on his backburner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he had his eyes set on for years… and with a little help from her friend, maybe… just maybe shell finally be the first choice

♡ sugar and you | @97-liners

oneshot | wc: 4.5k | 🤍

mingyu x reader

in which mingyu is an idealistic pastry chef, and you’re a cynical wedding planner who doesn’t believe in love.

fluff, just really sweet (hah) fluff, one-sided enemies to lovers

♡ back to december | @toruro

oneshot | wc: 4.3k | 🍋🤍🌧️

mingyu x reader

miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr tho), big dick mingyu, sex in a car, riding, fingering, pet names, creampie

guys that was a lot of smit warnings but i promise its not a smut fic just read plz

Lee Minho

♡ Invisible Thread | @astraystayyh

series | wc: 37k | 🤍🌧️

minho x reader

university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies cuz they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst, poor relationships with parents, insecurities, she/her reader, mention of alcohol

♡ Lost in Translation | @moonjxsung

one-shot | wc: 26.5k | 🤍🌧️🍋

minho x reader

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ⓒ onehopelessromantic, August 2024

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[interesting-interludes]

the comforts of creatures (5)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.

A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.

Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.

You can’t speak.

You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.

No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.

A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.

The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.

“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”

“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”

Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.

You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.

Now you know why.

Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.

You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.

“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.

From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.

“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.

Your face scrunches in confusion.

“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.

You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.

Simple as that.

But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.

Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.

“They said...” you begin hesitantly.

They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.

“They said that they were monsters.”

Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.

“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”

They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.

Your stomach churns.

“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”

They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.

Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.

Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.

Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.

You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.

One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.

The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.

The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.

The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.

You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.

“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”

Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.

But how could you know that now?

They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.

Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.

For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.

Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.

All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.

Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.

Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.

Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.

Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.

He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”

As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.

Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.

Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.

“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.

“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”

Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.

All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.

Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.

Jin notices the signs immediately.

“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.

Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.

Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.

“Go ahead, let it out,”

You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.

“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”

Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.

“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.

The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.

He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.

For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.

“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.

The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.

The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.

It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.

You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.

The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.

The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.

Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.

Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.

“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”

The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.

“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.

It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?

You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.

You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.

Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.

When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.

Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.

The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.

You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.

He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.

This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.

The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.

“Shower or bath?” he asks.

It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.

Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.

They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.

You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.

Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.

They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.

Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.

You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.

Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.

Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.

So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.

The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.

Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.

You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.

The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.

Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.

Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.

Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?” 

Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.

His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.

On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.

When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.

There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.

Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.

He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.

You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.

Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.

What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.

They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.

He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.

A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.

A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.

Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.

“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”

They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.

Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”

Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.

Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.

He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.

“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.

He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.

You nod slightly.

It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.

Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.

They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.

Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.

Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.

“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.

“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.

You nod.

Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.

“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”

You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.

It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.

Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.

You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.

Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.

“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”

You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.

Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.

He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.

Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.

When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.

Another breath releases from your lungs.

You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.

You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.

The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.

The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.

Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.

You know there are worse scars behind you.

Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.

It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.

You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.

You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.

A gentle knock on the door. 

You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.

Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.

“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”

You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.

You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.

Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.

“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.

You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.

It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.

“Much better, hmm?” he says.

You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room. 

It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.

Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.

They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.

Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”

Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.

The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.

“This should settle your stomach,” he says.

While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.

You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.

He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.

“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.

“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.

This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid. 

They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.

Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.

“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”

You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.

Jin enters your field of vision again.

“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.

But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.

“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.

One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.

You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.

The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely. 

Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.

You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down. 

You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖

[kookiesbuckethat]

he makes you insecure

Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

WC: 3.5k

<series masterlist>

taglist: @awinkies @wedarkacademia @yiyi4657 @astralandcosmos @scuzmunkie @mooonlitstars @manchuria @joondiary @ygimsgw @royallyjjk @yoongititss @mwitsmejk @kitty-kair @blissedjoon @vrittivsanghavi @kimahnjung98​

tw: unhealthy eating habits, bad body image

nothing too detailed but just bc this can be a very sensitive topic to some!! that being said, im not trying to romanticize unhealthy eating habits or anything like that. as someone who has struggled with these things, fics like these hit a little close to home. but that’s what makes them all the more comforting to me and i hope this fic will have the same effect for anyone that also may also relate. plz be kind to yourself and your body, it’s beautiful and does so much for u!! lots of love, take care 💜💜

Coming off the stage, the soreness of Yoongi’s shoulder becomes harder to ignore as the high of finishing yet another successful concert starts to wear off. After the long hours of practice and leaving it all on the stage, it all seems to catch up to him all at once as he keeps his head down to hide his grimace.

As soon as Yoongi steps foot backstage, he’s immediately knocked back a few steps as you run into his chest. “You were amazing!” you breathe out as you wrap your arms around his neck, engulfing him in a warm hug. Wrapping his good arm around your waist and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, Yoongi grits his teeth and breathes in your comforting scent to help him bear the pain.

Handing him a water bottle, you gently brush his sweaty hair away from his forehead as he gulps down the cool liquid. “You work so hard,” you tell him with a gentle smile, “I’m so proud of you.” For a while, the pain in Yoongi’s shoulder is pushed to the back of his mind in your presence. He practically purrs as you gently play with his hair, closing his eyes and subconsciously leaning into your hand.

Basking in your attention, Yoongi’s moment of peace is interrupted when the maknaes come running over, wanting your praise as well. Your attention is stolen away from Yoongi as you turn to the maknaes, showering them with compliments and giving all of them pats on the head. No longer having your touch to distract him from the pain, Yoongi brings a hand to his shoulder and rubs at it while nobody’s looking.

When you all arrive back at the hotel, you decide to get started on dinner while they go on V-live to talk to ARMY. Just as you set the last plate on the table, they all burst into your and Yoongi’s hotel room. “Mmmh!” Jungkook exclaims, “It smells good!” You giggle as his nose guides him to the food, his eyes going wide when they land on the table.

Taking a seat, Hoseok looks up at you in amazement, “Wah, it looks so delicious!” Laughing as you wave off all their compliments, you suddenly feel an arm wrap around you as Yoongi comes up behind you, giving you a slight squeeze in thanks before sitting down next to you. Thanking you one last time, they all dig in, moans of satisfaction filling the room. 

When everyone finishes up, you refuse all their help to wash the dishes. “You all worked so hard today, the least I could do is wash the dishes!” you insist. “But you already cooked-” Seokjin starts to argue but you interrupt him. “No buts! Out of the kitchen! You guys need to rest,” you stand your ground, pushing him out of the kitchen and towards the door.

Sighing in defeat, they thank you one last time before wishing you goodnight and heading back to their rooms. Closing the door behind them, you walk back into the kitchen only to find Yoongi by the sink. “And what do you think you’re doing?” you ask, an accusatory tone in your voice as you place your hands on your hips and frown at him. “Washing the dishes?” he answers as he reaches for the gloves.

You grab the gloves before Yoongi can, defensively holding them behind your back and out of his reach. “When I said you guys need to rest, that included you too,” you tell him, a slight pout to your lips and a small furrow in your brow that he found absolutely adorable. Knowing better than to argue with your stubborn nature, Yoongi raises his hands in defeat as he backs away from the sink.

Letting out a small “Hmph,” as you put the gloves on, you turn your back to him as you start washing the dishes. But you freeze when you feel his lips press a kiss to your temple. Yoongi’s not the most affectionate guy as he prefers to show his love in other, quieter ways, so moments like these always catch you off guard.

“Cute,” he breathes out as he chuckles at your blushing cheeks and ears. “Hurry up and go shower already,” you mumble, willing your face and ears to stop burning. With a grin on his face, Yoongi finally leaves you to wash the dishes. Listening to his retreating footsteps, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. No matter how long you’ve been together, Yoongi always manages to surprise you and make your heart flutter.

Flicking on the lights, Yoongi steps into the hotel bathroom, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he takes a moment to brace himself before attempting to undress. Letting out a hiss of pain as he raises his arm, a few curses escape Yoongi’s lips as he pulls his shirt over his head. Dropping it onto the floor, he lets out a breath of relief. The hardest part was over.

Discarding the rest of his clothes, Yoongi steps into the shower. He rolls his shoulder as the hot water streams down his body, relaxing all his muscles. He realizes that without your comforting presence, the pain in his shoulder is more apparent than ever, and he can only hope you finish doing the dishes soon so you can hold him in your arms.

Your heart has calmed down by the time you dry the last plate, placing it back in the cupboards before hanging the towel back in its place. You enter the bedroom just as Yoongi exits the bathroom, lazily rubbing at his hair with a towel. You silently reach out to him, asking him for the towel. Placing it in your hand, his head drops forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder as you gently dry his hair.

Nearly falling asleep with how exhausted and relaxed he is, he lets out a whine and wraps his good arm around your waist when you start to pull away. “Yoongi,” you giggle when he pulls you flush against him, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He was being more affectionate than usual today, not that you were complaining, but you had to shower. 

“What’s with you today?” you ask curiously as you pull away enough to look at his face. A groan is the only answer you get, pulling a breathy laugh out of you. “I have to shower Yoongi,” you tell him as he reluctantly lets you go, “I’ll only be a few minutes.” Walking over to the bed, Yoongi closes his eyes as he lays down, counting the seconds until you return to him.

Coming out of the bathroom freshly showered, you spot Yoongi laying on the bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. A mischievous smile forms on your face as you quietly creep up to his side of the bed. Jumping onto his unsuspecting form, you giggle as you hear Yoongi let out an “oof,” at the impact. “You’re so heavy,” he groans, weakly trying to shove you off with one arm.

Your smile falters for a second at his comment, but you’re quick to brush it off. Yoongi’s always been a complainer, and you take his seemingly half-hearted attempt at pushing you off as a sign that he doesn’t really mean it. You laugh as you lay your head on his shoulder, wanting to indulge in the affectionate mood he seems to be in today. 

“Seriously, get off. You’re crushing me,” he says coldly, all the playfulness gone from his voice. It feels like you’re hit with a bucket of cold water, scrambling to get off of Yoongi as if his touch burned you. His eyes are shut tight as his face turns into a grimace, quickly turning away so you can’t see his pained expression. But he also misses the way your face crumples, tears quickly welling in your eyes.

You stare at him, wide-eyed as he leans on one elbow, turned away from you so all you can see is his back. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine the angry expression he must be wearing if he can’t even look at you. Yoongi was never the type to yell, so you know you must have really messed up to reach the end of Yoongi’s usually never-ending patience.

In reality, Yoongi is holding his shoulder with one hand, biting back a curse because of the shooting pain in his shoulder. He isn’t mad at you, he could never be. And he would never say such a thing so carelessly, he wasn’t even fully aware of what he said because, in the moment, the only thing he could focus on was the pain in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know-” you cut yourself off, not wanting to even finish the sentence. I didn’t know I was that heavy. You were comfortable in your own skin, especially because Yoongi never failed to make you feel loved. But body image is a fragile thing that can be broken just like that if you’re not careful with your words.

Suddenly feeling sick, you clamber off the bed and run into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you can’t stop the tears that start falling from your eyes as you suddenly see a million things you don’t like about the reflection in the mirror.

When the pain finally starts to subside, Yoongi rolls back onto his back, letting out a breath of relief. He patiently waits for you to return to him, snapping in and out of consciousness as he tries his best to stay awake and wait for you.

Splashing your face with cold water and taking a few breaths to calm yourself down, you do your best to avoid looking in the mirror as you make your way out of the washroom. When you climb back into bed, Yoongi already has his arms open, waiting for you to snuggle into his chest like you always do. But this time, you don’t. You lay about an arm’s distance away-which is much too far for Yoongi’s liking-with your knees pulled to your chest. 

Yoongi’s brows furrow in confusion at your strange behaviour and he can’t shake the feeling deep in his gut that something is wrong. But he’s exhausted from the concert and knowing that he has another one to perform the next day, Yoongi decides to leave you be for now, not because he doesn’t care enough but because that’s simply his nature. He never makes you feel rushed or pressured with his infinite patience, always willing to wait as long as you need. 

As the days go on and the concerts continue, it’s become routine for everyone to crash at your room for dinner, not that you minded. They never failed to make sure you knew how much they love and appreciate your cooking, and watching them enjoy your food just warms your heart.

Yoongi takes his usual seat next to you at the dining table, grabbing some food and cutting it up for you before placing it in your bowl. It was his was one of his silent forms of love to make sure you’re eating well. But your appetite has been lost ever since Yoongi made that comment about your weight, and suddenly the food doesn’t look that good to you anymore.

Yoongi’s hurt and a little offended when you take the pieces of meat he cut up for you and place them into Jungkook’s bowl. But he’s more concerned about how much of it you’re actually eating compared to how much you’re giving to Jungkook. Yoongi’s very attentive to you and your needs and he has a pretty good idea of how much you usually eat, but you haven’t even eaten half of what you usually do.

Yoongi watches you out of the corner of his eye as you place your chopsticks down, signifying that you were done eating even though there was still food left in your bowl. “Not hungry?” he mumbles as he raises his eyebrows in question. You shake your head as you give him a small smile. “I was snaking while making dinner,” you lie smoothly, chucking sheepishly to make the act convincing.

But your answer doesn’t ease Yoongi as much as it should because he can feel that something is off. Not wanting to press in front of everyone, he accepts your answer for now but he takes note of how the amount of food you eat becomes less and less.

Arriving at the hotel after the final concert, you all head up to your room as usual where the guys will crash in the living room while you head into the kitchen to start cooking. But you’re pleasantly surprised to find the table already filled with food-you’re favourite food-when you walk in through the door. “You’ve worked hard too and we wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us,” Namjoon explains.

“You guys didn’t have to,” you tell them, touched by their actions. “But we wanted to!” Hoseok insists. “Now come on,” Seokjin says as guides you to the table, pulling out a chair and gently pushing down on your shoulders to make you sit down, “Let’s eat. Yoongi got all your favourites.”

Jungkook and Jimin run to get the kitchen to grab plates and utensils while the rest open all the food on the table. You excitedly kick your legs under the table, your eyes practically sparkling as you excitedly look at all the food. Pulling out the chair next to you, a small smile appears on Yoongi’s face as he watches you fondly.

But his expression melts into one of confusion when your face suddenly seems to fall and all your excitement comes to a halt. “Is something wrong?” he asks gently as he accepts a bowl from Jungkook and places it in front of you. Your head snaps up to meet his eyes, not realizing that he was watching you. “Oh, no, everything’s great! Thank you for this!” you shake his worries off, plastering a smile on your face.

The food smelled and looked so delicious and you were just so excited to eat all of it. But then you remembered that you were trying to lose some weight and you couldn’t eat as much as you wanted to. And of course, Yoongi noticed that one moment you let your expression fall.

You begin to sweat under Yoongi’s intense stare, feeling like he can read you like an open book. But then he’s suddenly looking away, reaching for your favourite foods and placing them in your bowl. “Eat, you must be hungry,” he says simply. Picking up your chopsticks, you bring a piece up to your mouth, chewing slowly and making sure to savour each bite as a lone tear escapes your eye, but you’re quick to wipe it away before anyone can see.

“I’m so full,” Hoseok says as he leans back in his chair, patting his stomach. “Me too, Hyung,” Jimin agrees, pushing his bowl away because he can’t eat anymore. Jungkook happily takes Jimin’s bowl and finishes what he couldn’t, making sure no food goes to waste. You all watch fondly as the maknae eats to his heart’s content, making an angry face because of how good the food is. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing your loved ones eating well.

“We better start packing, we have an early flight tomorrow,” Seokjin says as he stands from his chair, starting to gather all the plates and bowls. “Don’t worry about that,” you say as you stand from your chair as well, holding your hand out to take the plates from Seokjin, “You guys go pack, I’ll clean the dishes.” 

But he holds the plates up and out of your reach as he shakes his head at you, “You’ve done the dishes every time, let us do it for once.” You’re about to protest when Hoseok takes the dishes from Seokjin and heads for the kitchen, “It’ll be done faster if we all help anyway.” Pouting in defeat, you’re about to follow them into the kitchen when Yoongi gently grabs your hand and pulls you away into the living room.

Wordlessly, he lays on the couch before pulling you down to lie on his chest. Panic washes over you as you try to keep your weight off of him but your arms start to grow tired so you attempt to get off of him. But this only causes Yoongi to wrap his arms around you tighter, pulling you close until there’s not a centimetre of space left between you two. “Relax,” he tells you, gently stroking your back to try and help you calm down.

Reluctantly laying your head on his chest, your heartbeat slows as your heart starts to beat in sync with Yoongi’s calm one. You listen to his heartbeat in one ear and the chaos going on in the kitchen with the other. You can hear Seokjin and Hoseok yelling as the maknaes laugh, no doubt starting a water fight while washing the dishes. “Come on! How old are you?” you can’t help but giggle when you hear Namjoon whine. When they finally finish, they let you know the dishes are done and that they’re leaving, wishing you two goodnight before you hear the door shut. 

You and Yoongi lay in peaceful silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence after such a busy time. Suddenly, Yoongi’s deep voice rumbles through his chest. “You’ve gotten lighter,” he simply observes, giving you an opening to let out whatever’s on your mind, but only if you want to. It’s a simple but caring gesture and before you know it, your eyes are brimming with tears.

Hiding your face in his chest, you let your tears fall and soak into his shirt as he simply holds you. “I just wanted to lose some weight,” you admit, voice watery. You hadn’t realized how much it was taking a toll on you until it all became too much for you to hold in. “Why would you want to do that?” he asks gently, not in a way of judgment, but simply wanting to understand you.

You shrug your shoulders at his question, “You said I was heavy.” Yoongi’s heart clenches at how small you sound and he curses himself for being so careless with his words. You were his light on his darkest days, his safe space, and just your comforting touch could wash all his pains away. You were his everything, and Yoongi will never forgive himself for making you feel like anything less, for letting you forget just how much he loves you; all of you.

He tightens his hold around you, hoping the action will help you understand just how precious you are to him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, “I never meant it like that and I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.” You shake your head at his apology as you snuggle further into him to communicate your forgiveness. Yoongi was the softest and gentlest person you’ve ever met. He’s never once raised his voice at you and you know he would never say anything with malicious intent. 

“Don’t go on a diet. I don’t want a single gram of you leaving this Earth,” he says gently. “So cheesy,” you mumble into his chest. “Whatever,” he grumbles as he sits up to hide his burning cheeks, “Come on, I was able to grab some of your favourites before Jungkook could eat them.”

And you can’t say no as he secures his hands underneath you before standing up and carrying you to the kitchen where he places you on the counter. A fond smile forms on your face as you watch Yoongi move around the kitchen, silently heating up and plating your food with care. He may not be a man of many words, but you’ve always believed that actions speak louder than words and Yoongi’s actions spoke volumes.

You’re so enamoured by him that you only snap out of your trance when Yoongi comes to stand between your legs, his large, warm hands gently rubbing up and down the tops of your thighs. When Yoongi sees that you’re back with him, he picks up a piece of food with some chopsticks, holding his hand underneath as he lightly blows on it. 

You accept the piece he holds out for you, letting out a sound of contentment and happily kicking your legs as you finally allow yourself to really enjoy it.  Yoongi’s heart is full as you happily eat every bite he holds out for you until the bowl is empty. “I’m so full,” you breathe out as he places the bowl down. “Good,” he says as he once again wraps your legs around his waist and lifts you off the counter, “The best time to go to sleep is when you’re full.” 

Carried back to the bedroom by Yoongi, you quickly fall asleep with your heart and stomach full, and Yoongi’s arms full of you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[myg-butterfly]

How Many Things

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi invites you out to a party with him, and in trust, you say yes. But what happens when you lose him in the crowd, just to find him again with someone else by his side? In the midst of panic and longing, you wonder how many things he thinks about before he gets to you.

Tags: Non-Idol AU, Anti-Social Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Anxiety, descriptions of panic attacks, Yoongi is an asshole for a minute, some of his friends are big time assholes, insecurities, social anxiety, lots of feelings, Teahyung and Namjoon are sweethearts, crying, jealousy, author's first fic lol.

A/N: HEY HELLO HI!!! This is my first fic that I'm publishing here so pls be gentle 🙏 And if you enjoy, leave feedback, good or bad, I love interactions. This is self-indulgent comfort that I've been thinking about for a long while and I was like ,,,,,, Yoongi got me 🥰🙏 Also this was slightly inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's "how many things" from her album EICS go listen if you want the extra angst. So yeah, enjoy!

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You began to panic, the music was so, so loud, the clattering of dishes and glasses from the bar, the yelling, all the bodies and their humidity, it was all becoming too much, and to your dismay, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen.

You tried to recollect yourself as you began pushing through the crowd, determined on finding him. With every slip past a person, every step and stumble, you grew even more exhausted, but then finally, Yoongi came into view.

He was to the other end of the bar, a smile plastered in all his glory. Whoever he was talking to was clearly making him laugh, and just the sight of him made the tension in your shoulders ease a little bit. You were just about to call out to him, maybe even when fling yourself in his arms, but then-

Then you saw her. The one responsible for the way his face was currently scrunched with a happy grin. They stood close to each other, even as they turned the other way and moved to take a seat together at the bar. They were hand in hand, they looked like the human embodiment of perfection.

You felt your heart deflate as Yoongi pulled out a chair for her, proceeding to signal something to the bartender, the peace sign on his fingers and the pointing between him and her gave you the idea he asked for a drink for both of them. They continued to laugh and talk, and you had to force yourself to look away.

The sight of them made you remember why you hated going out, but even worse, you remembered why you vowed to not get romantically attached to anyone, especially not Yoongi.

The turning of your stomach was becoming hard to ignore, your quick breaths making matters worse. You knew you had to get out of there; with or without Yoongi. So with one last glance at him -who was still engrossed deeply in conversation with the woman next to him, leaning to whisper something in her ear and her reacting in a flustered manner- you fought your way to the door, tears beginning to spill the moment the night breeze greeted you.

As much as you wanted to just run and run and run until your body gave out on you, you knew better than to try and make it back to the dorms by foot.

You sighed defeatedly and pulled out your phone, texting the one person who you knew would be here without fail. As much as you didn't like bothering him (even though he's told you countless times you're not) you knew he'd scold you if you walked home on your own, and a scolding from him was never an enjoyable experience.

Y/N: are you busy rn?

Namjoon: Not currently. Why?

Y/N: can u pls come pick me up

Namjoon: Where are you? Are you safe?

Y/N: yeah, here's my location *📍*

Namjoon: I'll be there in less than 10. Stay put, okay?

Y/N: ok. ty joon.

Putting your phone away, you sat at the nearest bench you found, and attempted to stop the tears from falling further before Namjoon arrived.

But no matter how hard you tried, it was pretty much impossible to not think about why you were out here in the first place. Were you overreacting? Yoongi's allowed to have friends. So why are you so hurt? It's not even like you're together or anything.

In all honesty, you wanted to be mad at them.

You wanted to be mad at him for giving you even the slightest hope that there might be something more between you two.

You wanted to be mad at that girl he was with for being so damn perfect for him, for being everything that you could never begin to come close to.

But deep down you didn't have it in you to be angry at anyone but yourself.

How could you have been so stupid?

You knew that no one would want you romantically, you knew that all he felt for you was pity, that you'd never come first, and yet you still got your hopes up.

You let yourself dream that he wanted you like you wanted him. You believed all those things he said out of pity, all the reassurances and compliments, you knew that they were nothing but him simply being who he is; a naturally kind person.

You knew all of this, so why the hell were you crying? Why were you walking out and aimlessly trying to find anywhere else to go?

'Pathetic' you scoffed at yourself. You were being immature, everything everyone else had said about you was true. You were stupid to think otherwise.

Before you could continue to wallow in your self-pity, you felt a small tap to your shoulder, and you looked up to find Namjoon looking down at you.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" You quickly wiped away your remaining tears and nodded your head, standing up to greet him. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Thank you for coming Namjoon." You bowed slightly, trying your best to look well put together. "It's no problem dear. My car's this way, come on."

"You want me to drive you back to your apartment?" You both got in his car and he asked as you put on your seatbelts. "Yes, please. Thank you." He only hummed in response as he began to drive, a soft tune playing on the radio, just loud enough to make it less awkward.

Namjoon knew you probably weren't in the mood to talk, and you were grateful for the silent understanding you guys shared. You weren't awfully close, but you'd shared your own personal memories with each other, and you mutually knew the other would be willing to lend a hand when needed. That's what you liked about him. He was just understanding like that.

The drive to your apartment was short, and even though you lived on the 3rd floor, Namjoon insisted on walking you to your door.

"Hey, take care okay? If you need anything else don't hesitate to call me, yeah?" He said as you reached your door, the genuine look on his face made you tear up once more.

"Yeah. Thank you, Joon." You waved him off as you stepped into your apartment, closing the door as he began to turn around.

You immediately kicked off your heels and went to grab a glass of water. You chugged it down as if you hadn't had a drop of water in days, proceeding to open your fridge and let the waterworks begin as you realized your appetite was gone just seeing the carton of orange juice sitting there with a sticky note that reads, "YOONGI'S!!! DO NOT DRINK >:("

He'd helped you with your groceries about 2 weeks ago, and the orange juice he bought was claimed by him, protesting that he needed "emergency juice" because he was at your apartment so often.

Not wanting to look at his skrunkly handwriting anymore, you shut the fridge door and rested your head in your hands on the kitchen counter.

The more you thought about it, the more prominent the ache in your chest became. He was the one who invited you to that party in the first place. He was the one who wanted you to have fun. He was the one that promised he wouldn't leave your side. Yet here you were, back at the dorms, hugging yourself in attempts to conceal your heartbreak.

If you had gone on your own and just happened to see him there with another girl, then that would have been a different story.

But no.

Yoongi himself told you two nights ago that he was invited to a party, and he wanted you to accompany him as his plus one. And as nervous and hesitant as you were, he spurred you on, encouraging; "No matter what you wear you'll look stunning." And "Everyone will love you" and "I won't leave your side, okay?"

That one stung the most when you thought about it, because not even 15 minutes into the party, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. You could tell that most of his friends weren't too fond of you, and you felt ridiculous in the pink dress you wore.

You thought of how you'd taken hours to be able to look at yourself in the mirror and not cry at your appearance made you cringe. You tried so hard to look nice, to feel pretty, to feel wanted, and it still didn't work.

You grew angrier, why weren't you good enough? What made it so hard to love you? You practically ripped off your dress, the fabric suddenly piercing your skin, your arms wiping off your already smearing makeup furiously, and you stomped to your bed, plopping down violently before letting out a strangled groan that sounded more like a whimper.

You felt like shit. Your whole night was shit.

Were you overreacting? You had been rude too. I mean, you left without even telling him. You're just as bad, right?

He's the one who left you standing there, Y/N. Your brain going back and forth until you decided that falling asleep would be easier.

"Sooo how'd it go with lover boy last night? Assuming things went well from what I saw." An overly excited Taehyung appeared at your side, a smug grin on his face as he poked your arms. You just shrugged your shoulders as a response, the mere mention of the previous night was enough to deflate your already souring mood.

"Don't give me that look, Y/N! I know you and Yoongi got it on last night!" Taehyung flailed his arms accusingly, as if waddling around would make his statements true. "We didn't get it on, Taehyung. Literally nothing happened. Nothing." You tried to remain calm as you spoke, but your patience was running thin.

"Oh come on Y/N. Yoongi was absolutely plastered this morning and you're gonna try to tell me nothing happened?" He kept on going as he shook your shoulders, and it took everything in you to not slap his hands away.

"Did he get home safe last night?" Your brows furrowed in slight worry at the mention of Yoongi being wasted, and no matter how hurt you were, you had to know if he was okay.

"Uh, yeah. Were you drunk too? I thought you guys left together. Do you not remember?" The lump in your throat was becoming harder to swallow down as Taehyung spoke. You had to be strong. You were not gonna cry over this to your poor friend who's excited.

"You know I don't drink. And, no we didn't leave together. I asked Namjoon to take me home." You hoped he'd stop asking questions, but much to your dismay- "You left with Namjoon?!?! Does Yoongi know?!?!? Did anything happen with him!?" At this point you were on the brink of tears, you hated talking about this.

"Taehyung, please let it go. I just wanted to know if Yoongi got home safely. Can we please just drop it?" Taehyung caught onto your pleading tone and the hurt look in your eyes, and he nodded with his softened expression.

"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to pry." He spoke cautiously. "It's okay Tae."

He shot you another worried look before returning to walking in silence beside you once again.

The rest of the day went painfully slow, your mind too exhausted to deal with walking from one side of campus to the other, and much less to pay attention to what your professors were saying.

Expectedly, you collapsed onto your bed the moment you went back to your dorm. You were gladly going to continue feeling sorry for yourself, but the ringing of your doorbell rudely interrupted you.

You groaned, hoping they'd just go away, but after a few seconds another ring came. You [grumpily] got up, running your hands through your hair in attempt to look somewhat presentable.

As you made your way to the door, you wondered who could be at your apartment, especially now that it was beginning to get late, the sun going down quickly outside.

You hesitantly opened the door, immediately wishing you would've just continued to ignore whoever was at the door once you saw who was standing in front of you.

"Hi, I brought dinner." There Yoongi stood with a soft smile on his face, lifting a brown bag in reference to dinner.

You stood stunned, wanting to say something, but your mind went blank.

"Y/N? You there?" He playfully waved his hands around trying to get your attention.

"Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry. Just didn't expect you to come by."

"Oh, sorry if I startled you. I texted you but you didn't respond, and you didn't answer last night when I called, so I wanted to come check if you were okay." He shuffled from foot to foot, worry evident in his eyes.

"Oh, just haven't been on my phone lately." You looked down, feeling unsure on how to talk to him without showing him your hurt.

"Oh alright. So, we heading in for dinner?" The smile returned to Yoongi's face, and no matter how hurt you were, you still found it hard to say no to him.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Of course."

You opened the door a little further and stepped aside to let him in.

On a normal occasion, dinner with Yoongi would've been the highlight of your day. But now, it was filled with awkward silence and poor attempts at small talk — Yoongi hates small talk as much as you, so you don't know why he's still trying — the tension in the air was hardly going unnoticed.

It wasn't until you finished eating that he decided to just rip the bandage off.

"Are you angry with me?" Yoongi asked, and you almost questioned if he was being serious or not, but the expression he held made you realize that he was in fact clueless about the hurt he put you through.

You weren't sure what to say, so you stayed silent. I mean, it's not like you were angry at him. But you also weren't too happy with him either. Yoongi felt his heart drop as your gaze dropped his own, denying him from an answer.

"Y/N? Did I do something?" He asks from across the table where he's sitting.

For some reason hearing those words from him made the tears you've been holding back so well spill over.

Did he really have no idea? Were you genuinely overreacting? Did you just make everything up in your head?

"Do you really not know?" You tried to push your voice out firmly, but it came out in a broken whisper. You wanted to look at Yoongi, you wanted to see if his face washed over with realization, but your eyes stayed glued to the floor.

"Is this about me getting drunk at that party? I thought you said you didn't mind if I had alcohol." His wording sounded harsher than he intended, but with your already weakened state, you had to hold back from full on sobbing right there in front of him.

"This is about you leaving me by myself in the middle of the party when you promised you wouldn't leave my side!" Your frustration began to take over, did he really not see it? He's supposed to know you better than anyone else.

"Leaving you by yourself? Last thing I heard, you had found yourself a new companion for the night." Yoongi scoffed, his mood souring when he recalls finding out that apparently you'd left with some other guy.

The drinks he'd had were enough to make the night slightly blurry and to make him work a little harder to recall the night's events, but unfortunately, they weren't enough to make him forget how someone had stole you away from him.

"Where did you hear that?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt you were currently feeling.

"My friends" He responded, as if that was supposed to change what you had said.

"Your friends ... the ones you introduced me to?"

"Yeah"

"Your friends really don't seem to like me." You muttered, but Yoongi somehow caught the soft mumbling.

"What do you mean? To me it looked like they were all happy to meet you." His tone remained cold, and you felt more tears forming quickly.

"Well, you weren't there with me when they all laughed at me because I'd lost you in the crowd." You tried to defend yourself.

"They're not like that, I know they aren't."

"You wouldn't know how they acted towards me because you left me alone." You continued on, his face morphing into one resembling more of guilt.

"He left you already? Didn't even last half an hour."

"They haven't even had 1 drink tonight, no wonder Yoongi ran away so fast. Prude."

You winced while recalling how they'd laughed at you when you tried asking for Yoongi, passing it off as a joke when you'd gotten visibly upset.

You softened your tone, sadness catching up with you and replacing your frustration.

"It hurt, Yoongi. You know me better than anyone. You're supposed to know me better than anyone. You know how much I hate parties and bars, how I hate talking to people I don't know, how I don't do things alone. Ever. And you know that if I made you promise to not leave my side it's because I'm not ever planning to leave yours either. Do you know how bad it hurt to be panicking only to turn around and see you having the time of your life? Especially with someone else, when you promised me that night was for you and I only? It hurt, so damn bad."

Yoongi's heart dropped at your words, had it really been that bad for you? How did he not notice?

"I didn't leave with anyone yesterday, Namjoon brought me back to my apartment and left the moment I walked inside that door. You're the one that left with someone else last night, and it wasn't me."

A thick moment of silence engulfs you, and you begin to wait for a snap, or some sort of outburst from Yoongi, but all that comes is—

"Y/N... I- Shit. That's not-" You looked up hesitantly at the sound of Yoongi fumbling his words. He ran a hand through his hair in disbelief before slowly moving closer and crouching down in front of you. "I'm so sorry Y/N. I swear didn't mean to leave you. I went to go get the drinks, I did. And then when I couldn't find you I went and asked my friends if they had seen you, and they said that you'd gone off dancing with some guy, and so I went to go look for you and I ran into a classmate, which is the girl you saw me with. And I thought, since Y/N's off with someone else, it wouldn't hurt to have a drink with a girl from my class. I wouldn't have left you if I knew that you were by yourself. I'm so sorry."

Yoongi's gaze dropped to the floor as he finished, ashamed for being the root of your tears.

"I should've known better, I- I was just so opposed to seeing you happy with someone else that I immediately rejected the idea of looking for you to avoid the possibility of someone else making your night special. And I know that's not really a valid excuse, not looking for you because I was jealous- of something that wasn't even fucking happening- it isn't fair to you whatsoever. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I truly am." He takes your hands in his and takes a moment to recollect his next words.

"What can I do to make it up to you? Even if it's just the smallest fraction, I want to show you how sorry I am. Anything you want. Please." You paused for a moment, even though your conscience immediately knew what you wanted.

Hold me. Please. Hold me. Nudge your head with mine, lock our pinkies, put your leg against mine, anything. Please, hold me.

With your brain screaming mantras of 'I need to be held', you reached out for him for a second, before your body jerked to a stop.

No. I need him to hold me. I need him to reach out. He needs to initiate- please-

Yoongi's quick to notice your body language, and equally quick to react. "Do you want to be held, sweetheart?" You swear you felt yourself physically start to glow at the sound of him uttering the words you've been dying to hear for god knows how long.

You nod your head and you're so delighted by the aspect of someone- well, not just someone, but Yoongi- comforting you, that you don't even notice the soft whimper that leaves you as he scoots closer to you.

"Words, darling." He says softly, and your body automatically responds with soft chants of "Yes, please, yes Yoongi."

You don't even notice how tears begin to fall against your cheeks again when you feel Yoongi's hands wiping them away.

"C'mere, I've got you baby. Let's go to bed, yeah?" He grabs your legs and wraps them around his torso, before he holds you against him tightly and begins to stand up with you in his arms.

You feel yourself melting at the pet names he's giving you, glad that he's carrying you because you're sure your legs would've given out on you at this point.

You continue turning to mush when you feel how gently Yoongi sets you down once you reach your bed, how he squeezes your hand and asks for permission to lay with you with his eyes, how he reaches for you under the covers and cradles you close, fingers running through your hair softly.

The bliss is only momentarily, broken when your mouth moves faster than your brain;

"Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"Why did it upset you when you thought I was at the club with someone else?" Your question comes out as a whisper, scared for his response.

"Y/N." He pulls back a little to see your face.

"Yoongi." You reply mocking his tone.

"Are you really gonna make me spell it out for you?" He's secretly glad that it's dark in your room, otherwise you'd be able to see the blush coating his cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" You ask, and his only response is a huff while pulling your head back into his chest.

"Yoooongiiii" Your whine comes out muffled by his shirt.

"Y/nnnnnn" It's now Yoongi's turn to mock your tone.

"Answer the questionnnn"

You feel the vibrations of his chest as he mumbles something into your hair, and you would've lost it on the spot if you weren't so focused on getting an answer out of him.

"Yoongi I can't understand you when you're mumbling like a child." You chuckle slightly, not wanting to dwell on how you can feel his heart beating rapidly against you before he mumbles once again, only this time louder.

"I don't understand you for shit." At this, Yoongi lets go of you and sits up with a sigh, looking at you for a second before securing his gaze on his hands. You follow suit and sit up as well, only slightly behind him.

"I like you. I've liked you. For a really long while." His voice is so soft and it sounds so timid, you almost think you're imagining it.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Wait- that's not a good way to respond to that. Uhhh- wait." You quickly shift so you're facing him fully.

"Do you mean like as in 'you're a homie' or like as in 'you're not just the homie you're THE homie'? Because before I say anything you would have to clari-"

"Do you think I do this with all my friends?" He cuts off your nervous ramble, grabbing both of your shaky hands with his equally shaken ones.

"What specifically?"

"All of it."

"Wha-"

"The sharing food? The holding hands and carrying you and bringing dinner over and inviting them everywhere with me? The cuddling and the 'baby' and 'doll'? You know how I am about my personal space, and you know how I am about my sleep, and you know how I am about affection. Do you think I do that with just anyone?"

"Well- I don't know, I mean- I don't know what your other friendsh-"

"I don't. You're the only one that gets to see me like this. You're the only one I treat like this. You're the only one I want to treat like this. I like you. And I want to be with you. And that's why I was upset. Because when I thought you were with someone else, it made me feel as if you didn't want the same thing as me."

Before you got the chance to even begin to process, Yoongi catches himself and feels the need to justify: "Obviously if you don't feel the same then I won't like, lash out at you or anything, it'll hurt but I don't want you to feel forced into something more with me than what we have now, it's just you asked me why I was upset and that was the only way I could explain it but I-"

"Yoongi." He's stopped by a soft tug to his shirt and the even softer sound of your voice.

You catch each other's eyes, the flickers of hope and longing between them, and the search of honesty.

"I feel the same."

A sigh leaves his lips and he breaks into a smile before picking you up in one motion and setting you on his lap so you're straddling him.

"Does this mean we're like, um- like,,,,"

"Like...?" His tone is teasing, and you know he knows what you mean.

"Like, y'know- like..."

"I actually don't know...."

"Yoongi." You huff out, your shyness getting the best of you.

"Yes?" His tone is smug, making you groan into his chest.

Working off of pure adrenaline, you mumble quietly: "Like, together."

"What was that doll?" You could practically hear the smirk on his face, making you try and shuffle away from him, but Yoongi's quicker, pulling you back into him with a giggle.

"If you're asking if we're officially dating, then don't even question it baby." He's still laughing, but his tone is firmer this time.

"So I'm taking that as a yes?"

"Fuck yes."

You burst out laughing at his response, and soon enough you've both fallen into a fit of giggles, as well as back into the bed, with you on top of Yoongi, before he flips you over so he's hovering over you.

"Y/N."

"Yoongi?"

"Can I kiss you?"

End.

[keehomania]

frostbite 2 (동상 2) — min yoongi (민윤기)

the first part can be found here

✧.* 18+

when an object is cold, it typically absorbs heat from its surroundings. heat transfer occurs from a warmer object to a cooler object in an attempt to reach thermal equilibrium. so, if an object is colder than its surroundings, it will absorb heat from the environment until it reaches the same temperature as its surroundings. that just so happened to be the case with you. with you and min yoongi.

people had a negative way of reaction to the cold. their primal, native instinct was to warm themselves up as best as they could. maybe they'd wear double layers, accesorize with some mittens and soft boots. it was their way of building a natural defense against something that could potentially harm them. you never had a defense of your own, you were more likely to adapt to your surroundings, because you couldn't freeze something that had been cold for so long.

“i look stupid as shit in this, don't i?” no, you didn't need a defense, but you didn't need to adapt anymore either. all you had to do was surround yourself with what made you feel warm, what kept you invincible against the blizzards that awaited. the little things, like what you had found yourself staring at for a good minute. really, how were you supposed to tell him that the hawaiian shirt made him look like a ketamine-addicted tourist? he looked too cute.

you suppressed a giggle, unable to contain your laughter as you watched him scowl. “you've never looked better,” you couldn't help but tease. “all you're missing is a lei and coconut bra.” he shot you a look, feigning offense, but he doesn't remember the last time he was as happy as he was with you. you had spent the entire summer with him, and you knew the next semester was close, but the more time you had spent with him, the less you thought about it. all of your days were spent together, even your nights. the minute you had told him about your refusal to go back home—about how painful it was—he made it his mission to keep you as far away from it as possible.

he had become your new home, and you had become his. he had little to no interest in spending time with his family, he knew all it would do was piss him off. he never felt that way around you. it was amazing, the effect different environments had on people.

your activities had ranged from coffee dates and shopping, to sitting by the sea, to anything and everything. yoongi had truly believed he had turned a new leaf because of you, and it meant everything to you. he also knew that, despite all odds, he was more closer to your heart than he'd ever been. it wasn't the weather, the lack of snow and ice, it was love. you both knew it, because the smallest of moments were crucial. months had passed, and the slightest touch of his still made you blush. kissing you had still felt unreal. nothing mattered.

of course, there was still tension. nothing you couldn't push past, but the little things made you wonder. once, you had found yourself walking past an ice cream parlor with him, only for him to stop dead in his tracks. it was uncanny, the way he practically shivered at the sight of colorful, cold slabs being scooped into cups and cones. it made you frown, but you didn't ask. you never had to, you knew the feeling better than anyone. so, you'd give his hand a tight squeeze—a sign of reassurance—and you wouldn't let go as you led him away, not even when it left his sight.

your deeds never went unnoticed, he knew you cared about him the same way he cared about you. he treasured you, the thought of anything happening to you made him physically ill. not only that, but it pissed him off to a foreign extent. he had never been possessive over anybody or anything the way he was over you. much like the relationship itself, it was unfamiliar to him, a new experience, but he was willing to accept it. for you, he'd accept anything.

by the time the next semester had rolled around, nothing had changed. the campus stayed the same, the students stayed the same, you and yoongi stayed the same. of course, the air had become more crisp, but it had nearly gone unnoticed this time. almost everything had remained exactly the same.

almost everything. there had always been a saying that friendships had a bond just as strong as relationships. or at least, that's what you had believed. friends didn't fight the way couples did, they weren't intimate the way couples were. couples could be friends, but friends could never be couples, and that was the beauty of it, wasn't it?

the first time you had noticed a change in taehyung's behavior happened to be the very first day of your second year. during the vacation, you coincidentally hadn't spoken a word to each other. nothing was said, no messages were exchanged, but you thought nothing of it. you had presumed he had his own things going on. it was summer break, after all. that possibility had quickly left the list the minute he saw you. he saw you, and you had changed more than intended.

if the grin on your face was any indication, you were much happier than you were the year prior. the first time you had met him, he was the one with a shiny smile painting his lips. you were more stoic, cold, despite becoming one of his closest friends. you seemed more cheerful, like you had let loose. he didn't even have to ask, he knew the reason better than anyone. sometimes, he could feel hate brewing in his stomach towards himself for ever convincing yoongi to talk things out with you. he knew it was a selfish feeling, but he was only human. he had the right to feel, to love. the same feeling had started to make an appearance when he saw you, just down the hall. had you gotten prettier, or were you just happier? your hair was lighter, your skin a few shades darker. the sun had done its work. it was as if he was staring at the sun.

so badly did he want to greet you, to hug you. he missed you, he missed seeing you. he had nothing else to look forward to in school, seeing you kept him happy—the way he was supposed to be. instead, he walked right past you. your face fell as you turned back, waiting for him to do the same, to say he didn't see or recognize you, but it never happened. he wasn't in a hurry, and he didn't seem sick. you saw the way he looked at you—and he most definitely looked—a dull, lifeless look in his eyes, as if you had done something wrong. in the moment, you chose not to say anything. yoongi was the one who had the pleasure of hearing all about it.

“he is such an asshole,” you continued, pacing around the room for what felt like an hour. to yoongi, obviously. he rolled his eyes, but listened nonetheless. it wasn't that he didn't care about what you had to say, about what was bugging you—he just didn't want to hear about taehyung. “what the fuck did i do to him? i've been nothing but a friend, and now i'm getting the cold shoulder.”

yoongi sighed, “let him be, it's just the way he is,” was all he could say. he knew that wasn't the case, he knew that taehyung had become just as dismissive of him, and he knew the reason. it had been crystal clear to him that he was jealous, he knew it before all hell even broke loose. above all else, yoongi knew there was nothing he could do about it. he wasn't going to choose anybody's feelings over you. “ignore him and it'll pass, okay?”

all you could do was huff as he placed a reassuring kiss onto your forehead, nodding in agreement. after all, he was right; no response was the best response. maybe taehyung was just going through something of his own.

“by the way, there's something i wanted to talk to you about,” yoongi announced, placing both of his hands onto your shoulders. he gave your arms a gentle squeeze as you perked your head up, suddenly intrigued. “but you have to promise me you won't freak, okay?” you nodded in response, eager to hear what he had to say. he smiled at your excitement, but he couldn't help the anxiety that began to course through his veins.

it was something he had been wanting to ask you for a long time, but he never had the chance. he wanted the timing to be right, but it never seemed to be. “i talked to my mom recently, just before school started, and i told her all about you,” he was only halfway through his sentence, and it was already getting difficult to bite back the growing smile on your face. he had told his mother all about you, the woman who birthed him. “she and my step-dad wanna have lunch with us this weekend, they're dying to get to know you.” it was official, there was nothing left for you to hold back.

his heart finally steadied at the sight of your smile, he took it was a positive sign. “min yoongi wants me to meet his parents,” you teased, your smile never faltering. “what kind of girlfriend would i be if i said no?” he couldn't have possibly asked for a better answer. with a smile, he wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in a hug. “you're the best girlfriend ever, i promise they'll be nice,” he murmured into your neck.

the week leading up to the lunch felt like an eternity. each day crawled by, filled with anticipation and anxiety that gnawed at you incessantly. yoongi, with his calming presence and reassuring words, tried to ease your nerves, but the thought of meeting his parents weighed heavily on your mind. you couldn’t shake the pang of insecurity that came along with the idea of making a good impression. after all, you’d heard stories of how discerning parents could be, especially when it came to their son's happiness. on top of everything, you had made no progress with taehyung.

he ignored you during your joint classes, during your free periods—you had even tried starting up a conversation, and it had gotten you nowhere. “do you have a spare pencil?” was your ultimate question, with his seat just next to yours. for a second, he looked at you, and there was hope. that hope went away in the blink of an eye—he didn't even spare a simple shake of his head, he just ignored you. you frowned, but said no more. the way he looked at you was unexplainable, almost painful. yet you still said nothing.

as monday melted into tuesday, and then wednesday merged into thursday, you devoted every free moment to preparing for the fateful lunch. at the campus library, you flipped through magazines, gathering ideas on fashion and etiquette, meticulously choosing outfits that projected confidence while still feeling like you. friday morning arrived, and after a thorough search of your closet, you finally settled on a chic yet comfortable ensemble. the day had finally come. sitting at your desk, you meticulously applied your makeup, ensuring that each brushstroke accentuated your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. just as you were putting the finishing touches on your look, you felt a familiar presence behind you. “are you ready?” yoongi's voice broke through your thoughts, warm and supportive.

he leaned against the doorframe, his casual demeanor instantly grounding you. he couldn't take his eyes off you. even after so many months, no girl was as beautiful as you were. no girl could come close. you turned around, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he wore a simple black sweater, his hair falling casually over his forehead, effortlessly charming. “almost,” you replied, forcing a smile. “just need to grab my bag.”

as you both set out for the restaurant, the air was thick with anticipation. his parents had chosen a spot closer to the campus, but it wasn't exactly a casual spot. by the looks of it, you could practically hear bank accounts draining. yoongi held your hand, squeezing it gently as you approached the entrance. you could feel your heart racing, and a mix of excitement and trepidation washed over you. “just remember,” he said softly, “my parents are going to love you. just be yourself.” you nodded, grateful for his support.

before stepping into the restaurant, you both paused for a brief moment outside. the bustling sounds of the city faded as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of fresh flowers nearby. “you’ve got this,” he encouraged, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. with that, you stepped through the door, the chatter of diners enveloping you. as you approached the table where his parents waited, he could see the familiarity in their faces, warmth etched in their expressions. yoongi led you to the table as you fell behind him, the crowd of people making it impossible to see and squeeze through.

the minute you managed to squeeze through, you found yourself making some last-minute adjustments. you dusted your jeans, flattening them and making sure you looked presentable. with a sigh, you pushed your hair back and tilted your head forward, thinking you were finally ready for what was to come. the second you did, you realized just how unprepared you really were.

“(y/n)?” and the sound of your name rang in the air for what could have been forever. nobody shared your look of horror—not yoongi, nor his mother, who shared a look of utter confusion. it was your face that fell, as if all the blood had been drained from your skin, as if the life had left your body. your eyes were wide, pupils dilated to pinpricks as if you'd seen something so profoundly disturbing that your mind couldn’t process it. and you did, you really did. your gaze was fixed and unblinking, a silent scream trapped within.

“dad,” and he was everything but that, yet you still couldn't stop the name from passing your lips. four, five, six years had gone by in the blink of an eye, and he was still everything but that. six years had gone by since you uttered his name, and six years had led up to nothing but a nightmare coming to life.

in that moment, shared confusion finally morphed into horror. yoongi stood completely still, his body frozen as if the shock had turned him to stone. his face was locked in a rictus of terror, every muscle taut and unmoving, betraying the internal chaos raging within. he couldn't process what was happening, and he truly didn't want to. his eyes flickered between you and his step-father, and the scene that was in the process of unfolding was something that haunted him to his very core.

“(y/n)—” your father found himself calling out your name once more, but you had no interest in participating anymore. you had no interest in playing the sick, twisted gamr the universe had so cruelly had in store. despite his hand reaching for you, you found yourself moving backwards. your face crumpled as if you had been punched, the lines of your features collapsing into a grotesque expression of disbelief. your brows knitted together, and her eyes were filled with an agonizing realization that seemed almost too much to bear.

“no,” and it was all you could think to say. “no, no, no,” a sequence of the same word in an everlasting repetition as you backed away from the table. your head had started to spin, the background noise becoming suffocating.

it didn't take long for you to run for the exit, the walking in reverse only worsening your state. you ran, you ran out of the restaurant, and you didn't know what was happening. you couldn't process what was happening. you had told yoongi absolutely everything—he knew absolutely everything. the same way you knew everything—how his father had passed, how his mother had re-married, how fond he was of his step-father. you felt queasy at the thought, practically collapsing in front of the restaurant.

yoongi had put the pieces together as he ran after you. he said nothing more to his parents when his instincts kicked in—he ran. his face went ashen, his hands gripping his stomach as if trying to hold back the rising tide of nausea. the grotesque scene made his insides lurch, and he fought to keep himself from retching. everything had started to come together, even the stew that you had made him found its role to play, yet nothing made sense.

what was supposed to be clean, crisp air felt like an icy blanket against your skin as you fled the restaurant. the once-warm atmosphere of the evening had turned frigid, and each step you took seemed to echo the churning chaos inside your heart. your footsteps pounded against the pavement, and the hum of distant traffic was a dissonant backdrop to your escalating panic. behind you, yoongi’s footsteps grew louder, his hurried breaths blending with the rhythm of your own. his voice, strained with emotion, called out, “wait! please, just wait!”

you couldn’t stop. the sight of your father, now yoongi’s stepfather, had struck a devastating blow. the pain of abandonment, which had never truly healed, surged up anew. you could feel the tears blurring your vision, mixing with the raw fury and confusion that churned within you. how could this happen? how could he be so close, yet so impossibly distant?

you stumbled through the parking lot, the gleam of streetlights casting long, distorted shadows. you reached the edge of the street, the dim light from a nearby lamppost flickering erratically. your breaths came in ragged bursts, and you tried to calm the storm inside, but every time you thought of yoongi’s mother sitting beside him, the image of your father at the table, it only intensified the emotional tempest.

yoongi’s hand touched your shoulder gently but firmly, his touch a jarring contrast to the storm raging inside you. he turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that cut through your turmoil. “please,” he said, his voice breaking, “let’s talk this out. i know this is overwhelming, but running away won’t solve anything. we need to work through this together.”

you shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your cheeks. “no, yoongi, you don’t get it. this isn’t just about you and me anymore. it’s about my entire life being upended. my father abandoned me when i needed him the most, and now he’s a part of your life. it’s too much. it’s unbearable.” yoongi’s face twisted with a blend of pain and confusion. “i understand that this is a lot to process, but we can face this together. we’ve built something real, something beautiful. don’t let this tear us apart. i want to be here for you, through all of this.”

his words cut through you, but they also felt like a cruel irony. the very thing that made his plea so heartfelt was the same thing that made it impossible for you to stay. your heart ached at the sight of his pained expression, but the distance between you felt as insurmountable as the ocean. “you don’t understand,” you said, your voice quivering. “you can’t understand what it feels like to see someone who hurt you so deeply now being part of the life you’ve built. i can’t bear the thought of seeing him at every family event, every holiday, every time i come to visit. it’s not just about us anymore. It’s about a wound that never healed.”

yoongi’s eyes filled with a mixture of pleading and sorrow, as tears of his own threatened to spill. “please, don’t do this. we’ve been through so much together. i need you. i love you. i can’t just let you go without fighting for us. we can figure this out. i promise we can find a way to make this work.”

you felt a deep, wrenching pain at his words, a profound sadness that seemed to echo your own. “i’m so sorry, yoongi,” and it was all you could say. all you could do was apologize, because you knew it was over. you knew that the very thing keeping you afloat was about to let you drown.

with those final words, you turned and walked away, feeling yoongi’s gaze on your back as you moved further into the night. each step felt like an echo of the heartbreak you were leaving behind, and the street seemed to stretch endlessly before you, reflecting the uncertain path you now had to navigate alone. the night that followed was silent except for the distant hum of traffic, and as you walked away from, not just yoongi and the restaurant, but from everything.

the days following the breakup were a painful blend of routine and heartache. the dorm you shared with yoongi felt like a haunted space, where every corner seemed to echo with the remnants of what had once been. the silence between you was palpable, a constant reminder of the fracture in your lives. you'd become adept at avoiding him, slipping in and out of the apartment with calculated precision, hoping to minimize the awkward encounters that were now a painful part of your daily life. your classes and studies provided a temporary escape, but even there, the weight of the situation followed you, a shadow that refused to lift.

one particular afternoon, as you settled into a lecture hall, yoongi was left alone in the apartment. the sound of his footsteps, heavy and laden with melancholy, echoed in the quiet space. with you away, he sought solace in old habits that had long been buried. he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the familiar rustle of the wrapper a sad comfort. the cigarette’s glow cut through the darkness of his room, but the smoke only seemed to amplify the shadows in his soul. the only part that remained unchanged was the open window.

the alcohol came next. he poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he stared vacantly at the wall. the burn of the liquor was a fleeting distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside him. he sank into a chair, the alcohol doing little to numb the ache that lingered in his heart. as the night deepened, his usual habits returned with a vengeance. he reached out to old friends, seeking solace in transient connections that only left him feeling more hollow. the nights were spent in a haze of smoke, drinks, and fleeting encounters with girls that roamed the halls, waiting for an ounce of a chance with him—an attempt to drown out the echo of your absence.

as you returned from class, you noticed a change. the apartment was filled with a sense of coldness, almost as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. yoongi’s demeanor had shifted dramatically; he was distant and cruel, his once-familiar warmth replaced by a frosty detachment. his once kind eyes were now often cast downward, and when they did meet yours, there was a sharpness in his gaze that was both new and painfully familiar.

weeks passed in a blur of strained interactions and bitter silence. it was during this period that you began to notice something troubling. yoongi’s routine had become erratic, punctuated by sudden absences and late-night returns. he was frequently out of the dorm, and the frequency of his comings and goings began to raise questions.

it wasn’t until one evening, as you returned from a late class, that the reality of yoongi’s new life hit you with full force. you entered the apartment to find it unusually quiet. a faint, melodic laughter reached your ears from the adjoining room. as you approached, the laughter grew louder, and you saw her—a girl, strikingly familiar, sitting on the couch in his presence. you had recognized her from your psych class. a gorgeous girl—a smart, gorgeous girl. they were locked in an intimate conversation, and the sight of them together was a punch to the gut.

yoongi’s new girlfriend had become a frequent visitor, her presence an unspoken testament to how his life had irrevocably changed. the frequency of her visits and the way Yoongi’s demeanor shifted in her presence made it clear that he had moved on, leaving you behind in a painful echo of the past.

you retreated to your room, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you had once shared your life with was now building a new one, one that did not include you. the echoes of his old habits and the new relationship only served to magnify the void left in the wake of your broken heart. the dorm, once a shared sanctuary, had become a place of silent suffering and unspoken regrets. each day was a reminder of the pain and loss that had unfolded, leaving both of you grappling with the emotional wreckage of a relationship that had ended too soon.

the afternoon sun cast a gentle, golden hue over the campus as you sat alone on a bench outside, a serene contrast to the turmoil inside you. the quiet beauty of the setting seemed almost mocking, a serene backdrop to the emotional storm that raged within. you had come here in search of some semblance of peace, but instead, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of memories and regrets. the past weeks had been a blur of sadness and loneliness. yoongi’s absence, the cold distance between you two, and the abrupt change in his life had left you feeling abandoned and adrift. the dorm had become a place of constant reminders of what was lost, and even the comfort of familiar spaces had turned against you.

sitting on the bench, you let your thoughts wander through the fragments of your recent past—yoongi’s new girlfriend, his sudden coldness, and the growing void in your life. each thought seemed to pull you further into the abyss of your own emotions. you felt a deep ache, an overwhelming sense of loneliness that no amount of rationalization could soothe.

the quiet of the campus was interrupted only by the distant hum of students and the occasional rustle of leaves. you fought to keep the tears at bay, but the weight of everything proved too heavy. your shoulders began to shake, and soon, the sobs you had been holding back burst forth uncontrollably. you buried your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely, each one a testament to the heartache and confusion that had consumed you.

it was in a moment of utter despair that you felt a presence behind you. the sensation was faint but unmistakable. you wiped your eyes and turned, expecting to see a passerby or perhaps another student. instead, your eyes met with taehyung’s—his gaze soft, yet filled with a deep concern that mirrored your own pain. his absence in recent weeks had been painfully noticeable, particularly after your relationship with yoongi became more serious. the silence between you two had been a silent testament to unspoken feelings and unresolved tension.

he approached cautiously, his usual exuberance replaced by a solemnity that matched the mood. “can i sit with you?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with an earnest vulnerability. you nodded, unable to speak through the remnants of your tears. taehyung settled beside you on the bench, his presence a soothing balm to your fractured emotions. for a long moment, there was silence between you, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

finally, the floodgates of emotion that you had tried so hard to hold back burst open again. you began to tell taehyung everything—from what happened to your parents, to what happened in the restaurant, to what was currently happening. each word was a painful release, and taehyung listened with a patience and understanding that you had desperately needed, despite the shock that flooded his system.

he reached out, placing a comforting hand on your back. “i’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he said softly. “i’ve been an asshole for not reaching out sooner. i let my feelings get in the way of being there for you.” the warmth of his hand and the sincerity in his voice brought a fresh wave of tears. you leaned into him, finding solace in his comforting presence. his arms wrapped around you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a genuine sense of comfort and safety.

you were grateful. for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel grateful. taehyung and you grew closer than ever before. he became a constant, reassuring presence in your life, a bright spot in a time that had been marred by sorrow. he made efforts to distract you from the pain, planning outings, watching movies, and engaging in late-night talks that made the days more bearable.

the transformation in you was noticeable. you began to smile more, laugh freely, and engage in activities that had once brought you joy. even yoongi, though still distant, couldn’t help but notice the change. the sight of you appearing happier, more vibrant, stirred something within him. despite his new relationship, there was a pang of jealousy and regret that gnawed at him. he observed how taehyung seemed to be a beacon of light in your life, and it only served to highlight his own sense of loss.

“what's this?” you exclaimed, startled as taehyung came up from behind you. you were in the middle of studying, whilst waiting for his arrival, but he didn't come empty-handed.

a smile graced his face as he stood before you, a tray in his hands. you furrowed your eyebrows as you analyzed the contents of the paper tray—food, food that was definitely homemade, and not a product of the cafeteria. you looked up at him, flushed in the face as he took a seat next to you. “i made this,” he announced proudly. “don't just stare, it's for you.” the smile on your face faltered, but it wasn't because you weren't happy. in fact, you were delighted. no one had ever cooked you a meal since your mother had passed, and it was something that had been bugging taehyung for days. specifically, since you told him about her. it hurt him how you had to spend years fending for yourself, feeding yourself.

you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. he gladly accepted, returning the hug as he nuzzled his head into the crack of your neck. you had hugged so many times, but never like that. “thank you, tae,” and the nickname stuck. the gentle tone you used stuck. he remained silent, but he refused to break the embrace. it was something that hadn't gone unnoticed—you settled into his touch, and took note of just how sweet he was being.

“you're joking,” yoongi muttered to himself. it was stronger than him, he couldn't help the way his blood just so happened to boil. he was just a few meters away. he didn't want to watch—he wanted to walk past you like he didn't care, but he cared. he cared too much. he knew he had no right—he was the one that was cruel, the one that moved onto the next new thing, why couldn't you?

the days had settled into a comforting routine of companionship and mutual support. taehyung’s presence was like a steady anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions, and his efforts to bring light into your life had begun to heal some of the wounds that had seemed so insurmountable.

one evening, after another day spent together, you and taehyung were sitting on the couch in the living room. yoongi had gone somewhere, perhaps to his girlfriend's dorm, it didn't really matter. the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp, casting a warm, soothing light. the air was filled with the soft hum of a music playlist, and you both had just finished a shared meal—one that he had cooked—lingering over the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company.

he had been unusually quiet, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a contemplative mood. you noticed the change but chose to let it be, sensing that something was weighing on his mind. as the music played softly in the background, he turned to face you, his expression serious yet kind. “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he began, his voice carrying a note of hesitation that immediately drew your attention. he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

you nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. “what’s on your mind?” you asked, your voice gentle, hoping to offer him the space to express whatever was troubling him.

his gaze dropped to his hands, fidgeting slightly as he tried to find the right words. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us—about the time we’ve spent together recently,” he said slowly. “and i’ve realized something. i really care about you. i mean, more than just as a friend.”

his words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in his tone. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a reflection of the feelings he was trying to articulate. the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued. “i like you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of his confession. “i’ve had feelings for you for a long time now. and i know things have been really tough for you lately, and i don’t want to push you or make things harder. but i want to be honest about how I feel. i'dd really like us to be more than just friends, if you’re open to it.”

the confession was delivered with such earnestness that it left you momentarily speechless. you could sense the depth of his feelings, and though you were still healing from the end of your relationship with yoongi, his words resonated with a different kind of warmth. you took a deep breath, your mind racing through the emotions and thoughts that his confession stirred. the memories of your relationship with Yoongi were still fresh and raw, and you found yourself hesitating. there was a part of you that wanted to take this chance with taehyung, who had been a steadfast support throughout your struggles. but you were also wary of comparing what you had with him to what you once had with yoongi.

his eyes were searching yours, filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. he had laid his heart bare, and the vulnerability of the moment was palpable. you could see how much courage it had taken for him to speak up, and you didn’t want to hurt him with a response that might imply you weren’t ready or that you were comparing him to your ex.

the silence stretched, and you could feel the weight of your indecision. you wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to diminish the significance of bis feelings. finally, you nodded slowly, trying to give him an answer that reflected your own complex emotions without dismissing his sincerity.

“tae,” you began softly, “i really appreciate you being so honest with me. i’ve been through a lot recently, and i’m still figuring things out. but i like you. i like you, too. and I’d like to see where this could go, if you’re willing to give it a chance.” a look of relief washed over his face, and he reached out to take your hand gently.

“thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “i know this is a lot to take in, and i’m not asking for anything to be decided right away. i just wanted you to know how i feel.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. the connection between you was different from what you had experienced with yoongi, but there was something undeniably comforting about taehyung’s presence.

taehyung kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. the laughter and conversation flowed easily, a stark contrast to the loneliness you had felt just weeks before. as the night wore on, the atmosphere between you grew more charged, a testament to the deepening bond you were forming.

the way he looked at you was heartfelt, and the sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of adoration and hesitstion. his hand gently cupped your cheek, and as he leaned in, you could feel the anticipation build. when his lips finally touched yours, it was a soft, exploratory kiss. it started with a gentle press, a tender connection that seemed to convey all the unspoken emotions between you. as the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, a beautiful expression of the feelings that had grown between you. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his touch both comforting and exhilarating.

just as the kiss reached its most intense, the sudden slam of the dorm door broke the moment. yoongi, disheveled and clearly inebriated, stumbled into the room. his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him—taehyung’s arms around you, the lingering kiss that had just ended. for a few tense seconds, he stood there, frozen in place. his face was a mix of anger and confusion, the alcohol exacerbating his emotions.

taehyung, noticing the intrusion, broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder. he met yoongi’s gaze with a steely calmness. “goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. he leaned in to give you a quick, but gentle kiss on the cheek. “i'll see you tomorrow.”

he stood up, walking towards the other man with a confident stride. the two men exchanged a long, menacing look—taehyung’s eyes filled with a defiant challenge, while yoongi’s gaze was a mix of fury and jealousy. without a word, taehyung walked past him and out of the dorm, leaving the tension palpable in the room.

as his footsteps faded away, you turned to face your ex-boyfriend, trying to ignore the turmoil brewing inside you. you busied yourself with preparing for bed, the normalcy of the routine contrasting sharply with the emotional upheaval. you could feel his eyes on you, his presence a constant reminder of the past you were trying to move beyond.

after a few minutes of strained silence, yoongi’s voice broke through, laced with a mocking tone. “your boyfriend’s cute,” he said, the words dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and envy. you looked over at him, your emotions still raw. “well, your girlfriend’s even cuter,” you retorted, trying to mask the hurt with a sharp edge.

his expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze intense. “her name is joohyun,” he said, his voice flat. the correction struck you like a physical blow. the way he spoke about her only deepened the wound. you forced a smile, though it felt brittle and insincere. “huh, pretty name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

you and yoongi locked eyes, the shared pain between you palpable. there was an unspoken understanding in the look you exchanged—an acknowledgment of the hurt and regret that lay beneath the surface. it was a moment of raw honesty, even though no words were spoken. with a final, heavy sigh, you turned away and made your way to your room. the quiet of the dorm was almost suffocating, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air. as you closed the door behind you, the tears you had been holding back finally fell, mingling with the sorrow of a relationship that had ended and the pain of seeing him move on so quickly.

the days following the confrontation had been a delicate balance of strained civility and simmering tension. the air between you and yoongi had shifted from outright hostility to a more subdued, yet pervasive, awkwardness. he no longer expressed his anger through harsh words or glaring silence; instead, he resorted to mocking comments and passive-aggressive remarks, all aimed at your budding relationship.

every morning, you would encounter yoongi in the shared spaces of the dorm. he had taken to casually taunting you about your new relationship, his comments laced with a biting edge that made your stomach churn. the kitchen became a battlefield of sarcastic jabs and forced smiles.

one morning, as you were preparing coffee, he sauntered into the kitchen, his demeanor as nonchalant as ever. “so, how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you two planning a romantic dinner tonight? maybe you’ll even get a serenade.”

you shot him a pointed glare but kept your response measured. “taehyung’s been really great. thanks for asking,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you poured the coffee. he chuckled, leaning against the counter. “oh, i'm sure he is. i mean, he’s perfect, right? must be nice to have someone who’s always ‘so thoughtful’ and ‘so caring.’”

the irritation was mounting, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your breakfast. you had hoped the passive-aggressive remarks would eventually stop, but they only seemed to escalate. each day brought new comments, each more pointed and bitter than the last. it was clear that his jealousy was consuming him, and he channeled it into these relentless, mocking jabs.

the situation reached a new level of discomfort one afternoon in the common room. you were sitting on the couch, absorbed in a book, when he plopped down beside you. he took a swig from his beer, his eyes flicking over to you with a smirk. “let me ask you something,” he said, his tone condescending. within a second, he was close. much too close. “has he fucked you yet? how good does he fuck you?”

the question hit you like a physical blow, the frustration and hurt that had been building up finally reaching a boiling point. you slammed the book shut and stood up abruptly, facing him. “you know what, yoongi? i'm sick of your shit. i don't give you shit for joohyun, you should think of doing the same.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “for someone who can take dick so well, a joke is where you draw the line?”

that was the final straw. without thinking, you reached out and aimed a slap at his face. the movement was swift and fueled by a mixture of anger and hurt, but his reflexes were quicker than you were. he caught your wrist before your hand could make contact, his grip firm and unyielding.

his eyes locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. there was a tense silence as he held your wrist, both of you caught in the charged moment. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the close proximity made it impossible to ignore the intensity between you. “don’t,” he said, his voice low and strained. “don’t think you can just lash out at me like that.”

you tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip only tightened. “let me go, yoongi,” you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. instead of releasing you, he used his free hand to brace himself against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface. his face was inches from yours, and the heat of his breath mingled with yours. the physical closeness was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the intimacy you once shared and had now become a battlefield of emotions.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the intensity of the confrontation was palpable, a fierce clash of emotions and desires. you could see the conflict in his eyes—his anger, his frustration, but also a lingering trace of hurt and longing. it was as if he was struggling to reconcile his feelings with the reality of the situation.

“you think you can just move on like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “like it’s all so easy for you?” you met his gaze, your own emotions mirrored in the depth of his eyes. “i learned from the best.”

the proximity and tension were almost unbearable. you could feel the conflict within him, the way he fought to suppress the remnants of his feelings for you. his grip on your wrist remained firm, but the energy between you was shifting. it was a battle between holding on and letting go, a struggle that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. finally, with a visible effort, he loosened his grip and stepped back, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “fine,” he muttered, turning away. “you wanna act like you love him? go ahead.”

you rubbed your wrist where his grip had left a mark, feeling a mixture of relief and residual anger. the moment of intense proximity had left you both emotionally drained. his retreating figure was a reminder of the complex and painful dynamics between you. with a deep sigh, you turned and walked away from the common room, heading towards your bedroom. the confrontation had left you shaken, and the sense of unresolved tension lingered in the air. as you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing.

as you lay in bed, trying to process the emotional upheaval of the day, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the light from the screen cut through the darkness, drawing your attention. you reached over and picked it up, blinking as you saw taehyung’s name displayed on the screen. you opened the message, your heart lifting slightly at the sight of his familiar text— reading in big letters—“dinner tomorrow at 8? i’ve got a place in mind that i think you’ll really like. let me know if you’re up for it!”

a small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. you could practically read them in his voice. his thoughtful gesture was a welcome distraction from the turmoil you had experienced earlier. his consideration for your feelings and his attempt to bring a bit of normalcy and joy into your life was a balm to your frazzled emotions.

you quickly typed out a response, your fingers moving with a newfound eagerness—“sounds wonderful, tae. i can't wait to see you!”

as soon as you hit send, a wave of relief washed over you. the thought of spending time with taehyung, away from the tension of the dorm and the echoes of the day’s confrontations, was comforting. it was a chance to focus on something positive and to enjoy a moment of connection that wasn’t tinged with the complexities and pain of your past. you placed your phone back on the nightstand, feeling a bit lighter.

the following day, a faint sense of normalcy had begun to return. after a well-rested night, you woke up with a renewed focus, determined to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil by engaging in a productive task. you decided that tidying up your dorm would be a good way to occupy your time and perhaps lift your spirits.

you spent the morning sorting through clutter, dusting shelves, and organizing your space. the rhythmic movements and the satisfaction of seeing your environment gradually transform from chaotic to orderly provided a small, tangible sense of accomplishment. the task was therapeutic in its own way, offering a reprieve from the emotional noise of recent days.

by the afternoon, the dorm was clean and well-organized. the transformation was striking; the living room and kitchen, once cluttered and disheveled, now looked inviting and serene. you had even taken the time to freshen up the bathroom and arrange the space with thoughtful touches, adding a few decorative elements to make it feel more homely.

as evening approached, you started to prepare for your date. you had planned to meet him at a cozy, little restaurant he had mentioned, and the anticipation of the evening ahead made you feel a bit lighter. you took a leisurely shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and clearing your mind. afterward, you carefully selected an outfit that made you feel both comfortable and confident. you chose a simple, elegant dress that highlighted your features without being overly flashy—a perfect balance for the occasion. it was a tight, red dress. it was gorgeous, falling to your knees and highlighting your curves. you completed the look with a touch of makeup and a soft, understated hairstyle that framed your face gently.

with everything in place, you stood in front of the mirror, admiring your reflection. the process of getting ready had been a pleasant distraction, and now, as you looked at yourself, you felt a renewed sense of confidence and excitement for the evening. the image in the mirror was a stark contrast to the person who had been struggling just days before.

unbeknownst to you, yoongi had returned from his classes earlier than expected. he had slipped into the dorm quietly, intent on grabbing a few things before heading out again. the dorm was eerily quiet as he entered, the door closing softly behind him.

he made his way through the living room, heading toward his room to collect his belongings. as he passed by the open door of the bathroom, he noticed the activity in the adjoining room. the sight of the living space—neat and inviting—caught his attention. but it was the reflection in the mirror that drew him in.

there, in the hallway, he saw you standing in front of the mirror. the soft, golden light from the lamp in the corner bathed you in a warm glow, making you appear almost ethereal. the transformation from the emotional turmoil of recent days to the poised and elegant figure in front of him was striking. he froze, his gaze fixed on you. he watched as you made subtle adjustments to your outfit and checked your reflection. your movements were graceful, and there was a serene expression on your face that he hadn’t seen in a long time. it was a side of you that was vibrant and alive, and it stirred something within him—a mixture of regret, longing, and unresolved feelings.

he stood there in silence, a few steps away from where you were, feeling the weight of the moment. the sight of you, looking so composed and ready for a night out, was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that had marked the past weeks. It was as if he was seeing a side of you that he had forgotten or perhaps never fully appreciated.

as you turned away from the mirror, a contented smile on your lips, you noticed yoongi standing there, his presence suddenly apparent. the brief moment of surprise on your face quickly shifted to a neutral expression, though the brief eye contact was enough to convey a silent acknowledgment of the situation.

“yoongi,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “i didn’t realize you were back.” he nodded, his expression a mix of contemplation and something more guarded. “yeah. i didn’t mean to interrupt.”

you shook your head, a small smile forming as you turned your back to him, facing the mirror once more, “it’s okay. i was just getting ready for a date tonight. taehyung’s picking me up soon.” the mention of his name seemed to spark a flicker of emotion in yoongi’s eyes. he took a deep breath, trying to mask the jealousy that had become so familiar.

you had expected yoongi would just walk away while you faced the mirror, a silent figure behind you. instead, you heard his footsteps approaching, the soft thud of his shoes against the wooden floor echoing in the room. your breath caught in your throat, and you froze in place, eyes widening as he stopped just behind you.

“that dress looks so good on you,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine. you saw his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you. “you should pair it with the gold necklace i bought you. it looks so fucking good on you.” his fingers brushed the back of your neck lightly, tracing the spot where the necklace would rest.

a shiver ran through you, your skin tingling where he touched. his hand lingered, his fingers warm and firm against your skin, and you tensed up, torn between pulling away and leaning into his touch. “does he know you like being touched here?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

you wanted to speak, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in your throat. you just let him, your heart pounding in your chest, guilt and desire warring within you. his fingers glided down the side of your neck, and you bit your lip, a soft whimper escaping you.

he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply. “did you pick this perfume because it's my favorite, or his?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur. you felt his breath against your skin, warm and intoxicating, and you shivered again, torn between resisting and giving in.

your mind screamed at you to stop him, to think of taehyung, but your body betrayed you. yoongi's hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him, his chest warm and solid against your back. you felt his lips graze your neck, feather-light, and a soft moan escaped your lips. “yoongi, please,” you managed to whisper, though you couldn't quite say whether you were begging him to stop or to continue. he turned you around slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself looking up at him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, intense kiss. you felt a surge of guilt, knowing you were betraying your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but kiss back, your hands gripping the front of yoongi's shirt. the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you felt yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you clung to him, lost in the heat and the intensity of the moment.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “you feel that too, don't you?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. you could only nod, your heart aching with the realization of what just happened, and what was about to happen. it was about to happen because you were weak against him, you were weak in the knees for him.

yoongi's lips crashed against yours, urgent and demanding, and you responded with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer. he lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the edge of the bed, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. your dress slipped down further, pooling around your waist as his hands roamed over your exposed skin. his mouth followed the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your tits, making you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he obliged, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, revealing the toned muscles of his torso. your hands explored his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. history had come to repeat itself once more, under the worst circumstancee possible.

his hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them. his lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity that made you moan into his mouth. he lifted you further onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips as he settled between your legs. the friction of his body against yours was almost too much to bear, and you felt a desperate need for him, a need that only he could satisfy.

“tell me you want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with desire. “i need you, yoongi.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. his hands slid beneath your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. his eyes roamed over your body, dark with lust, and you felt a flush of heat spread through your core under his intense gaze. his fingers trailed down your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you. he touched you with a reverence that made your heart ache, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. when his fingers finally found your pussy, you gasped, your body arching into his touch.

he teased you mercilessly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, building the tension within you until you were a trembling mess beneath him. just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue flicking against your clit with a skill that left you breathless. your hands fisted in the sheets, your body writhing beneath his touch as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy. you felt the tension building, a coil tightening within you, ready to snap. and when it did, you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

but yoongi didn't stop. he continued to lick your pussy clean, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, boneless mess beneath him. only then did he rise, his eyes dark with desire as he shed the last of his clothing, revealing just how hard his dick was, how badly he needed you.

he positioned himself over you, his body aligning with yours in a way that felt both natural and inevitable. he spread you slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes locked on yours as he filled you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. he moved within you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to drive you both to the brink. you met his movements eagerly, your bodies moving in perfect sync, a dance as old as time.

the pleasure built between you, an unstoppable force that drove you both higher and higher. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your pussy clenched around his cock. you could feel the tension building again, that familiar coil tightening within you.

and when it finally snapped, you came together, your cries mingling in the air as your bodies shuddered with the force of your release. he collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his skin slick with sweat.

reality hit you like a cold wave. the warmth of the moment dissipated, replaced by a chilling realization of what you had just done. you quickly disentangled yourself from him, your movements frantic as you reached for your discarded clothes. you dressed hastily, your mind racing with the implications of your actions.

he watched you, his eyes narrowing in anger and confusion as you fixed yourself up. “where are you going?” he demanded, his voice laced with frustration.

“i have a date, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, your voice barely above a whisper. the weight of your betrayal hung heavy in the air, suffocating you. without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the room, leaving him behind, fuming and bewildered.

you ran to meet taehyung, your heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that the consequences of what had just happened would haunt you. but for now, you had to face him, pretending nothing was amiss, even as the memory of yoongi's touch lingered on your skin.

taehyung had gone to great lengths to reserve seats at a high-end restaurant, a place that was notoriously difficult to get into. he checked his watch anxiously, noting that you were fifteen minutes late. his fingers drummed on the table, a subtle display of his concern and impatience. when you finally arrived, slightly breathless and flushed, his worried expression softened into a relieved smile. “hey, i was starting to get worried,” he said, standing up to pull out your chair.

“i'm so sorry, tae. traffic was horrible,” you lied smoothly, sliding into the seat he had so thoughtfully prepared for you. your heart pounded in your chest, guilt gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast. he settled back into his chair, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “i'm just glad you're here. i hope you’re hungry. i heard the food here is amazing.”

you forced a smile, trying to push the thoughts of yoongi from your mind. “yeah, I’m starving,” you replied, even though the knot of guilt in your stomach made the thought of eating almost unbearable. as the waiter approached, taehyung took charge, ordering a selection of dishes he thought you would enjoy. he had clearly put a lot of thought into this evening, and the realization made the weight of your earlier actions press even harder on your conscience.

throughout the meal, he was his usual charming self, effortlessly keeping the conversation light and engaging. he talked about his day, the latest campus gossip, and shared funny anecdotes that had you laughing despite the turmoil inside you. but as much as you tried to act normal, the memory of yoongi's touch lingered, his words echoing in your mind. you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, the taste of his kiss on your lips. each time taehyung reached out to touch your hand or brush a strand of hair from your face, you flinched inwardly, the guilt intensifying with each tender gesture.

“are you okay?” he asked at one point, his brow furrowing in concern. “you seem a bit distracted.”

“i’m fine,” you assured him quickly, forcing another smile. “just a little tired, i guess.” he nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. still, he didn’t press the issue, instead continuing to share stories and keep the atmosphere light. you were grateful for his efforts, even as your mind continued to spiral with guilt.

when dessert arrived, he insisted you try a bite of his favorite dish. he held the fork out to you, his eyes filled with affection and hope. you leaned forward, accepting the bite, and tried to focus on the sweetness of the dessert rather than the bitterness of your betrayal.

as the evening drew to a close, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “i had a great time tonight,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “i’ve been looking forward to this the past day.”

“me too,” you replied, though your voice sounded hollow to your own ears. the sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn, and you had to look away to hide the tears that threatened to spill. he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “you know, i love that perfume on you. it’s my favorite.”

his words were like a knife to your heart, and you had to swallow hard to keep from breaking down. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. the irony of his compliment twisted painfully inside you, knowing that it was yoongi’s favorite too.

after settling the bill, taehyung stood and helped you with your coat, his hands lingering on your shoulders in a way that was both comforting and suffocating. as you left the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the warmth of his touch only intensified the cold knot of guilt in your stomach.

when he walked you to the door of your room, he leaned in for a gentle kiss, his lips soft and sweet against yours. you kissed him back, but all you could think about was yoongi, and the betrayal that lay between you. “i’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with promise and affection. “goodnight, tae,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. as soon as the door closed behind you, the weight of your guilt crashed down on you with full force. you leaned against the door, tears streaming down your face as taehyung's words echoed in your mind.

“i love that perfume on you.”

the next morning, you walked into your english literature class, your mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. taehyung was already there, saving a seat for you beside him. he smiled brightly as you approached, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. “good morning!” he greeted, his voice warm and cheerful. “i hope you slept well.”

you forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil inside you. “morning, tae. i did, thanks.” you sat down beside him, trying to ignore the heavy weight of yoongi's gaze from across the room. as the professor began the lecture, you felt his eyes on you, burning into your back. it was impossible to concentrate on the discussion about shakespeare’s sonnets when all you could think about was the intense connection you had shared with him the night before.

every time you glanced his way, he was watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite decipher.

taehyung leaned over, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “hey, jackson's throwing another party this weekend. he really wants us to come.” you nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of yoongi's eyes on you. “that sounds okay. are you sure it’ll be safe this time?”

he chuckled, his smile reassuring. “yeah, don’t worry. we’ll be going as a couple this time. it’ll be safer with us together.” you felt a pang of guilt at his words, the memory of your betrayal fresh in your mind. “that sounds great,” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice. “i’m looking forward to it.”

from the corner of your eye, you saw yoongi's reaction. he scoffed softly to himself, a derisive sound that made your heart skip a beat. his expression hardened, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he made a mental note. he leaned over to his friend and whispered something, his eyes still locked on you. you could only imagine what he was thinking, the anger and hurt simmering beneath his calm facade.

the rest of the class passed in a blur, the tension between you and yoongi palpable. when the lecture finally ended, you gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. as you walked out of the classroom with taehyung, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel yoongi's gaze follow you. the guilt gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the betrayal that lay between you and the man you had once trusted implicitly.

your boyfriend chattered happily beside you, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. “it’s going to be a great party,” he said, his excitement infectious. “i’ll make sure we have a fantastic time.” you nodded, forcing a smile as you leaned into his embrace. “i’m sure it will be, tae.” but as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the upcoming party would be anything but simple.

the rest of the week passed in a haze of guilt and tension. you did your best to ignore yoongi, avoiding his gaze in class and dodging any potential encounters. every time you saw taehyung, his genuine smiles and sweet gestures only made the guilt gnaw at you more fiercely. each night, you replayed the scene with yoongi over and over in your mind, the memory of his touch both a torment and a temptation you struggled to forget.

as the weekend approached, you found yourself increasingly anxious. you couldn't risk another encounter with your ex, not with taehyung's trust and affection weighing so heavily on your conscience. when the night of jackson’s party arrived, you decided to get ready in taehyung’s dorm, hoping the proximity to him would keep you grounded.

he watched you as you prepared, his eyes filled with admiration. “you look amazing,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “i’m so lucky to have you.” his words were like daggers to your heart. “thanks, tae,” you managed to say, forcing a smile as you adjusted your dress. the weight of his love and trust pressed heavily on your shoulders, almost unbearable in its intensity.

when you finally arrived at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the music thumped loudly, and the room was filled with people dancing and laughing. you clung to taehyung’s arm, drawing comfort from his presence as you tried to push thoughts of yoongi from your mind.

but it was impossible to ignore him. the moment you entered the room, your eyes locked onto him, standing across the room with joohyun. ahe was stunning, clinging to him with a possessive air, but his eyes never left you. they burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

in an effort to make you jealous, yoongi pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers in a heated kiss. they danced with his arm around her waist, his hands roaming over her body, all for you to see. the sight made your blood boil with a mix of anger and something else you didn’t want to admit. you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. fueled by a few drinks and a need to reclaim some semblance of control, you found yourself straddling taehyung’s lap. his eyes widened in surprise but quickly darkened with desire as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. you made sure yoongi could see every movement, every kiss, every touch.

his reaction was immediate. his eyes darkened with fury as he watched you with him. joohyun, oblivious to the tension, continued to grind against him, but his attention was solely on you. you could see the rage and jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior.

after a few more drinks, yoongi whispered something to one of the guys, a sly smile playing on his lips. moments later, the announcement was made, cutting through the thick atmosphere—a game of truth or dare. you didn’t want to play, sensing the potential for disaster, but taehyung was eager, his excitement contagious. reluctantly, you agreed, hoping it would remain harmless.

the game began innocuously enough. joohyun dared jackson to make out with one of the girls, and everyone laughed as he complied with exaggerated enthusiasm. the same girl had asked yoongi for his body count, and he responded with a smug smile, his high number drawing gasps and giggles. then it was his turn. his eyes locked onto you, a dangerous glint in them. just your luck. “truth or dare?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

you hesitated, your heart pounding. “truth,” you said, hoping it would be the safer option.

a slow, predatory smile spread across his face as the room bubbled with anticipation. “is it true you had sex with me an hour before your date with taehyung?”

the room went silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. despite the music, it was practically silent. nobody said a word. you felt the blood drain from your face as everyone’s eyes turned to you. taehyung’s grip on you loosened, his expression one of shock and betrayal. you couldn’t deny it. the truth was written all over your face. “taehyung,” you stammered, your voice breaking, and it was all you could say. it was the only thing you could utter out.

he didn’t wait to hear your explanation. he stood up abruptly, his face a mask of hurt and anger. ignoring your pleas and apologies, he walked away, leaving you to face the aftermath of your actions.

joohyun turned on yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest as she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face. he barely reacted, his eyes locked on you with a mix of anger and something darker. he watched you run after taehyung, his gaze intense and unyielding. the damage had been done, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pure rage he had been harboring for so long, but he didn't regret a minute of it. in fact, he thought of it as an accomplishment. even as you left him in the dust, running after taehyung, he remained stoic, no regrets.

the rain had started to pour down relentlessly as you sprinted after taehyung, your heart pounding in your chest. each raindrop felt like a heavy weight, mirroring the guilt that had settled like lead in your stomach. his figure was just ahead, his silhouette barely visible through the downpour. “taehyung!” you called out, your voice breaking as you slipped on the wet pavement, scrambling to catch up. he didn’t turn around, but you could see the tension in his posture. desperation fueled your steps as you finally reached him, grabbing his arm gently.

“taehyung, please, just listen to me,” you begged, your voice cracking. tears streamed down your face, mixing with the rain that drenched you both. “i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face was a mask of pain, his own tears mingling with the rain. his eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now cold and hurt. “why?” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “why did you do this?”

you felt your heart shatter as you saw the depth of his anguish. “i don’t know,” you sobbed. “it was a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake. please, just give me a chance to make things right. i love you, taehyung. i love you so much. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he shook his head slowly, his tears falling freely now. “you can’t just fix this with words. i needed to trust you, and now i don’t know if i can ever do that again.” his voice was filled with a deep sadness, as if he was mourning something he had lost. “maybe it was too soon for us. i shouldn’t have asked for a relationship this early.”

you felt your heart breaking further at his words. “please, tae,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t lose you. i know i messed up, but i'l do anything to make it right.”

taehyung’s gaze softened slightly, though the pain remained. “we can stay friends,” he said quietly. “but i can’t be with you like this. not after what’s happened. i love you more than yoongi ever could, and you just don't get that. you don't want that.” the words hit you like a physical blow, but before you could say anything more, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the rain. you watched him go, your heart aching with the weight of his rejection. as you trudged back to your dorm, the storm outside mirrored the storm within you.

when you finally reached your dorm, your rage was uncontrollable. the sight of yoongi, who was lounging casually in your room, made the anger inside you boil over. his relaxed demeanor only fueled your fury.

“how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his voice dripping with casual indifference. without thinking, you slapped him hard across the face, the sting of the contact a fleeting relief against your raging emotions. his head snapped to the side, but he remained calm, almost as if he expected the reaction. “guess he didn’t take it so well,” he said coolly, his tone dismissive.

you reached to slap him again, but he caught your wrist in a firm grip, his expression hardening. “we’re not doing this shit again,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering.

you couldn't contain yourself. “i fucking hate you, i hate you so fucking much, you asshole.” he took your rage without flinching, his eyes cold and distant. “hate me all you want,” he said quietly. “but you wanted it as much as i did. this was never just about me. you played a part in this, too.”

he turned and walked away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him. the finality of the sound echoed through the empty space, leaving you alone with your tormenting thoughts and the chaos of your emotions. you sank to the floor, your back against the door, tears mingling with the remnants of your rage. the reality of your situation crashed down on you, and the silence of the dorm was a painful reminder of how far things had gone wrong.

the days following the confrontation with yoongi were a blur of emotions. you spent your time in isolation, avoiding both him and taehyung. your anger towards him made you keep your distance from him, and your guilt over hurting taehyung drove you to avoid him as well. the weight of your actions hung over you like a dark cloud, making each step heavy and burdensome.

as you walked to your class, your thoughts were consumed by the aching emptiness of your days. you barely noticed the students passing by until a sharp voice cut through your fog of thoughts. “look who we have here.” joohyun's voice was icy, filled with venom. she stepped into your path, blocking your way. her eyes were filled with a mix of anger and contempt. “be honest, do you prefer being a slut, or a whore?”

you looked up at her, a mixture of weariness and resignation on your face. “i’m not here to fight,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “i don’t want any trouble.” but she didn’t relent. “you think you can just waltz around like you didn’t ruin everything? you’re a fucking homewrecker, in case you weren't aware. a cheater too, apperantly.”

the words cut deep, but you tried to stay composed. “did he forget to mention that he came onto me?” you replied, your voice trembling slightly but resolute. her face turned a deep shade of red, her anger boiling over. without warning, she slapped you across the face. the sting was sharp, but you kept your gaze steady, refusing to show any more emotion. her reaction was immediate, a mix of frustration and rage that only intensified when she saw your stoic expression.

“you think you’re tough, is that it?” she practically hissed, raising her hand to strike you again. but before she could make contact, a firm hand grabbed her wrist.

“enough,” taehyung’s voice was low and commanding. he stepped in between you and her, his eyes blazing with anger. “get out of here, joohyun. you’ve made your point.”

her eyes widened in shock, and she glared at taehyung with a mix of hatred and disbelief. “you’re defending her? after everything she’s done—to me? to you?”

“fuck off,” taehyung said, his voice cold and final. “leave it be.” she hesitated for a moment, her fury still evident, but his presence and his words were enough to drive her away. she stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she disappeared from view.

taehyung turned back to you, his expression softening as he took in your tear-streaked face. “are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern. the tears that filled your eyes were not just from joohyun’s attack but from the overwhelming guilt that plagued you. “i don’t know,” you whispered. “i'm just so sorry, taehyung.” without a word, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his gesture was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

“come to my dorm,” he said softly. “we can skip class. you need a break, and i need to talk to you.” you nodded, your heart aching with a mix of relief and remorse. as you walked with him to his dorm, the weight of the past few days seemed to lift slightly. for the first time in days, you felt a sense of temporary respite.

over the next few days, you stayed at his dorm, avoiding your own and the confrontations with yoongi. you and taehyung spent time together, trying to find solace in each other’s presence, though the shadow of your guilt never fully left you. you didn’t return to your dorm, leaving yoongi to wonder about your whereabouts and adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled situation.

the separation from your own space and the constant presence of taehyung provided a small measure of peace, though it was tinged with the ache of unresolved issues and the deep scars of your recent actions. the turmoil within you was far from over, but for now, taehyung’s presence was a balm to your weary soul. even if he was there as a friend, and nothing more.

that's how it was supposed to be, at least. taehyung’s dorm was a sanctuary of quiet and warmth as you both settled onto his bed, the dim light of the lamp casting a soft glow around the room. you lay with your head resting comfortably in his lap, your body feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths as he stroked your hair with a tender, almost absent-minded affection. the movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, his focus was solely on you, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

he couldn’t help himself from leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered, and you turned your head slightly to meet his lips with your own. the gentle touch of the kiss quickly escalated into something more passionate, as if the raw emotions and unspoken needs were finally finding their outlet.

his breath was warm against your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. you gasped, arching into him, and his responding growl of desire was like a switch that had been flipped. suddenly, the gentle caresses turned to something more urgent, more needy. your hands found the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal the tapestry of abs that adorned his torso. your fingertips traced the muscles, committing the patterns to memory as his hands found the zipper of your shorts.

as the rest of the fabric fell away, the room grew hotter, the air thick with anticipation. his eyes raked over you, taking in every curve, every inch, as if committing you to memory. the way he looked at you made you feel beautiful, desired, and your heart raced in response. his fingers skimmed over your hips, your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you could feel his restraint, his need to savor every moment, to make sure this was what you truly wanted. but the way your body responded to his touch, the way you leaned into his kisses, the way your breath hitched when his hands found your tits, left no room for doubt.

his mouth found your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you felt yourself melting into the couch. your legs entwined with his, pulling him closer, until there was no space between you. the fabric of your underwear was the only barrier left, and it was as if it dissolved under the heat of his gaze. your skin was slick with sweat, and the sound of your breathing filled the room, a symphony of want and need. his hands moved lower, and you could feel his cock pressing against you. the realization sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you moan his name into the quiet night. and as he slipped inside you, he knew that this was a moment he'd cherish forever, even if it was the only one he'd ever have.

his strokes were deliberate, each one aimed to make you feel every inch of him. you matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. the couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the passion that was unfolding. the friction was delicious, a sweet burn that built with every thrust, until you were on the edge of something so intense, you weren't sure you could handle it. taehyung's eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw the same need, the same desperation to make this moment last. because he knew it was fleeting.

your breaths grew shallower, your body tightening around him, and when you finally fell over that edge, the world shattered into a million brilliant pieces. his own climax followed shortly after, a groan torn from his chest that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment. he collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting, his heart pounding in sync with yours. for a moment, you just lay there, the only sound the ragged breaths that filled the room. the air was electric, charged with the intensity of what had just transpired.

the reality of the moment began to settle in. you hurriedly started to dress, the weight of what had just happened mixing with a lingering sense of guilt and confusion. just as you were pulling on your clothes, the door to taehyung’s dorm creaked open, and you froze, recognizing yoongi’s familiar silhouette in the doorway.

his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—both of you half-naked and disheveled. the raw pain and betrayal on his face were palpable, and without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dorm. the door slammed shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

your heart raced as you looked at taehyung, your own shock and guilt mingling with the urgency of the moment. You wanted to call out for yoongi, to explain, but the words caught in your throat. taehyung, noticing the turmoil in your eyes, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“go after him,” he urged softly. “fix things with him. i know you love him, and no matter how much i love you, i'll never be him.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching at his words. you couldn't imagine how much it hurt, how selflessly he could utter such a thing. you gave him a small, grateful smile, one that was tinged with sadness. “i love you, tae,” you whispered. he nodded, his own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “i love you, too.” with one last, lingering glance at taehyung, you dashed out of the dorm, searching for yoongi. so cruelly did you fail to notice just how selfless taehyung was. he cursed himself as he watched the door slam, allowing himself to slide back onto the couch, just minutes beforehand graced with your warmth. now, empty. it was empty, and he was alone. just as he always had been.

the corridor felt endless, your footsteps echoing as you chased after him. the guilt weighed heavily on your heart, and you knew you had to make things right. when you finally caught up with him, he was standing alone in the hallway, his shoulders slumped, his face a mask of hurt and anger. you approached him cautiously, your voice trembling. “yoongi, wait.”

his eyes, red-rimmed and filled with pain, met yours. “he fucked you good, didn't he?” he asked bitterly. “just like that? after everything?”

“we broke up, yoongi,” you reminded him, your voice breaking. “we broke up, and it killed me. and i know it fucking killed you, too.” his gaze softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “you broke up with me,” he insinuated. “you broke up with me, and i never stopped loving you.”

“i know,” you interrupted, your voice filled with regret. “i never stopped loving you either, but it's fucked up, yoongi.” he looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. for a minute, he remained silent. when what felt like forever had finally passed, he turned to face you, his eyes red and weary. “i’ve already made my decision,” he said, his voice flat. “i’m switching to hyesan. i’m leaving.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. “you can’t go,” you pleaded. “we can work this out. we can fix things.” his expression hardened, the hurt and anger clear in his eyes. “i can’t stay. why the fuck should i stay? every time i look at you, i see what i lost. i see the mess we’re in.”

“it’s cold up there,” you whispered, trying to reach out to him. it was all you could say. it was cold up there—it was freezing up there. it was the kind of cold that would destroy him.

“can’t be any colder than here,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “can’t be any colder than how it feels to be with you now.” his words were like ice, cutting deep into your already shattered heart. you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling the weight of his anger and pain. “please, yoongi,” you begged. “don’t leave. i’m sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face twisted with anguish, and the pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “i hate the cold,” he confirmed, his voice trembling. you knew, you knew how much he despised it. “but i hate this even more. i hate feeling like this. i hate knowing that everything we had is gone.”

the rawness of his words left you feeling hollow, and you could no longer contain the tears that streamed down your face. “i love you, yoongi,” you cried. “i need you to stay. i don’t know how to fix this without you.”

his resolve seemed to waver for a moment, his own tears mixing with the frustration in his eyes. “i don’t know if we can fix it,” he said, his voice cracking. “i don’t know if we can keep going like this.” his words was ruthless, tearing at both of you in ways that felt almost unbearable. you cried together, the shared pain of the moment only amplifying the hurt between you. the night air was cold, but the chill between you was far colder.

the morning light filtered weakly through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a muted glow over the space. you awoke to the sound of rustling and clinking, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you saw yoongi packing his bags. his movements were methodical, but there was an air of finality to his actions that made your heart ache.

you sat on the couch, feeling the weight of the previous night’s argument like a heavy shroud. your eyes wandered around the room, finally landing on a photo album that had been left out after you’d been cleaning. it was an old, worn album from your childhood—a remnant of happier times that you had almost forgotten you had with you.

with trembling hands, you picked it up and opened it, the yellowed pages revealing memories long buried. as you flipped through the photos, each image seemed to tell a story of a past you had tried to move on from. there were pictures of your mother, her smile radiant and full of life, and snapshots of your father, who looked happy and carefree.

the room was silent except for the occasional sound of Yoongi’s belongings being packed. his eyes flickered toward you occasionally, but he said nothing, his expression unreadable. the sight of your mother’s face, so vibrant and alive in those photographs, made your tears flow uncontrollably. you traced her image with your fingers, feeling a pang of loss that had been buried under layers of time and pain.

he glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he saw the photos. “she was beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “you look just like her.”

you could only nod, your tears spilling freely now. yoongi’s heart ached as he watched you, his own emotions tumultuous as he observed the photo of your father. the realization struck him like a physical blow—he was about to leave you, the same way your father had left you. you and your mother. the parallel was almost too painful to bear, and the thought of repeating that kind of hurt was almost unbearable.

he approached you, his face a mix of anguish and determination. as he sat down beside you on the couch, he carefully closed the photo album, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. he gently brushed the tears from your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting.

“i’m not your father,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you looked up at him, the depth of his words hitting you with an unexpected force. the sincerity in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch made your heart ache with both relief and sorrow. the weight of the previous night’s arguments seemed to lift, if only slightly, as you felt the warmth of his presence.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold back the pain with his love. you buried your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound amidst the storm of your emotions. he held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered, “you let me in your heart, and only an idiot would walk out.”

you clung to him, your tears flowing freely as you let out the pain and the love that had been bottled up inside. the hurt of the previous night and the fear of losing him were all there, but so was the overwhelming need to hold on to what you had together.

“i love you, yoongi,” you whispered through your tears. “i never stopped loving you.”

his grip tightened around you, his voice breaking as he responded, “i love you too. more than anything. and I’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

the two of you held each other tightly, the words and emotions flowing freely as you shared a moment of raw vulnerability. the past few days had been a whirlwind of pain and confusion, but in that embrace, there was a glimmer of hope—a promise that despite everything, you were still connected.

as the minutes passed, the silence between you was filled with the gentle sounds of your breaths and the soft, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your small, intimate bubble of reconciliation. the pain of the past lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the strength of your love. in that moment, nothing mattered. not who his parents were, whose son he was. he was the love of your life.

✧.*

a/n: justice for taehyung?? this was so rushed!! thank you to those who made it to the end!!!

[spiralizera]

Mistranslations

Pair: Namjoon/reader (English/anglophone)

Summary: You get into a fight with Yoongi over speaking English and not Korean.

Tags: Hurt/comfort; angst; protective Namjoon; angry Namjoon; soft so soft Namjoon; besties Namjoon and Yoongi

Warnings: xenophobia, mentions of racism [writer is white take that as you will], severe panic attacks, depression, non verbal coping mechanisms, use of the word ‘waegukin’ [I know it’s not a racial slur in the same way we understand racial slurs in the west, I mention that in the fic], chats about eurocentrism and colonialism [lol]

Notes: this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written, v spontaneous, possibly due to sun exposure, it’s like 29C rn, inspired by the gorgeous work of @dreamescapeswriting

You were waiting in the dressing room for the boys to finish their set. You’d been working in Gwanju and Namjoon had insisted that you come see him in Busan. The crowd had been insane and quite quickly you’d retreated backstage, overwhelmed. The English translator, now almost permanently on staff for unexpected interviews or even just preliminary prep on translation before content was churned out for online consumption, came and sat with you. She’d been working on her cultural knowledge of English recently and you quite quickly descended into a deep conversation about the politics of Eurovision. You were happy to help, she’d been a saint over these last few months, helping you with Korean.

Just as you were explaining the running joke that is the U.K. and the ‘nil point’ streak, Yoongi and Jungkook burst into the room on a performance high. Jungkook was giggly and jokingly collapsed into your back while Yoongi grabbed some water. They were mid conversation, their breath labouring, rushed and hard to hear. JK turned around and asked you something and since you were just talking to Seo in English, your brain couldn’t quite register what Jungkook was asking. He asked again, gesturing his hands towards the table, too tired to form full sentences. You turned to where he gestured and before you could fully kick your brain back into Korean and ask him to repeat it again, Yoongi scoffed something under his breath.

You paused, unsure if you’d misheard.

‘Sorry?’ You turned to Yoongi, asking in Korean as your brain played catch up with the chaos slowly pouring in from the stage.

Yoongi ignored you and started speaking to Jungkook. Jungkook laughed and pushed lightly off you, grabbing a bottle of water. You were close with the guys, it was easy. They had such a close and intense bond, it was impossible to be intimate with one without becoming close with the others. The only one who’d always remained at a distance from you was Yoongi. He sometimes pretended to exchange pleasantries, but largely kept himself a distance from you. He never spoke in English to you, he never tried to include you. You knew he spoke far better English than most of the boys, except for Namjoon of course. But he only spoke Korean around you. ‘Around’ was the correct word, never at you or with you, just around you, like you were an unfortunately placed pillar obstructing conversation. You largely ignored him, ignored the sick feeling in your stomach whenever he was in the room. It was natural to not click with everybody. Healthy in fact. These were Namjoon’s friends, not yours after all.

You heard the word again. You’d definitely not misheard this time.

‘Hey,’ you stood up, walking over to Yoongi. The boys turned around, jungkook slightly startled by the raise in your voice. ‘What did you call me?’

Yoongi looked at you deadpan. You were the same height and his eyes bore unflinchingly into yours. ‘I said,’ his English was slow like he was speaking to a child, ‘fucking waegukin.’

You stepped back, slightly stunned. It wasn’t a bad word, you knew that, it was a fact, you knew that. People referred to you as one all the time, it was fine, it was-

‘Everywhere we go it’s ‘speak English this’, ‘speak English that’, why don’t you fucking speak Korean? Why do we have to always accommodate you monolingual fucks? The level of entitlement, you come here expecting everything to be handed to you on a fucking plate. We just gave everything out there, Namjoon killed it and you’re in here demanding everyone speak to you in English, wasting the time of our translator, and not even come out and watch us. Namjoon gives you everything, what do you give him? That’s all westerners do, they take and take and demand we meet their standards, demand we make them comfortable. Would you even like Namjoon if he wasn’t an idol? Would you even like him if he couldn’t speak English? He gives so much of himself, so much energy translating and managing interviews and making sure we come across the right way to you westerners. Now he has to come home to you and your English face and your English language. Give him a fucking break. What can you give him, fucking waegukin?’

Yoongi had been getting closer and closer to you, Jungkook had tried grab his shoulder, to interrupt him but he’d shrugged him off. He’d seen red and couldn’t stop. You were just as stunned. You’d almost zoned out after a minute, watching the scene from another corner, alongside the stunned crew. In theory you knew that Yoongi was tired, that this was about something else, something bigger than you. He was right you hadn’t seen the majority of the concert, maybe something had happened onstage. There’d be a simple explanation, you knew that. You knew that. But your heart was in your throat, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t breathe. Every insecurity, every worry that had been simmering underneath your skin since you started dating Joon, that Joon had always dismissed and told you not to worry about, was now echoing about the room in one awful silence.

It felt like an eternity had passed.

‘Y/N-‘ Jungkook broke the spell, but you were faster. You didn’t even grab your things, you just needed to leave as quickly as humanly possible. You ran out the room, heading towards the cars, asking the nearest taxi to please drive, before you could see the way Yoongi’s eyes slowly cleared, the realisation that he’d truly fucked up dawning on his face.

——————————————-———————-

14 missed calls. 8 from Joon. 4 from Jungkook. 2 from Seo. You didn’t dare look at the messages that had been solidly lighting up your phone for the past hour. You just needed to get out. You needed to get out right now. You were shoving clothes into your suitcase. You’d catch a train to Gwanju, or maybe a plane would be easier, would there be any planes this late at night? Maybe the train then, or a hire car, but you weren’t really in any state to drive- Maybe you should just cut out the middle man and go straight to Seoul. You had friends there, friends from home who’d grown up split between Korea and Europe. But you didn’t want to worry then. You didn’t want them to know that this kind of relationship couldn’t work. That you were repeating the same mistakes that their parents had made, that maybe the cultural gap was too big. You didn’t want to cause them pain, you were causing everyone so much-

There was a knock at the door. You froze. Shit. You briefly debated scaling the fire escape, but thankfully dropped that idea. Maybe if you just stayed quiet, whoever it was, would go away. Maybe they’d leave you alone. Maybe you’d still be able to escape. You couldn’t be here. You couldn’t do this. You needed to leave right now. Right fucking now.

‘Y/N please,’ it was Namjoon. ‘Please open the door. It’s just me. Please I need to know that you’re ok.’

You softened slightly, your body couldn’t help but respond to his voice. But then your brain kicked into gear again. English, he was speaking in English. He was accommodating you, yet again, he had just finished a concert and he was probably exhausted and he had to deal with you, Yoongi’s words bouncing around your head. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breath. You couldn’t-

You heard some soft swearing behind the door. ‘Ok I’m coming in Y/N,’ Namjoon slowly entered the room. He had an idea about what had happened, he’d seen you react like this before, he was just glad you were still at the hotel. He walked slowly towards you, arms outstretched like he was approaching a stray. He’d made sure to get rid of every single bit of his anger before coming to find you. He’d ripped into Yoongi and Yoongi had taken it, stood there limply and said nothing. Still high from the stage, he would’ve punched him if it hadn’t been for Jin and Jungkook holding him back. He’d forced himself to calm down before going to find you, he knew he it couldn’t come near you in this state.

He’d phoned the hotel to check you were there before sending Hobi ahead with explicit instructions to not to knock but just make sure that your hotel room light was still on and let him know if you left.

‘It’s ok baby,’ he almost whispered. ‘It’s ok, it’s ok,’ he softly repeated until he was close enough to envelop you in a hug. You initially resisted before allowing yourself to break down and cry. Namjoon held the back of your head to the crook of his neck, kissing the top of your head as he continued to repeat the mantra. Your legs started to go and he swiftly carried you to the bed. He didn’t let you go. He wouldn’t let you go. He controlled his own breathing, holding down the anger that bubbled just below his skin. He took your shaking hand and kissed each finger tip with such care and love before placing it flat against his chest You focussed on his heart, it’s even beats, strong and steady. You matched it’s rhythm with your fingers and eventually your breath followed.

‘It’s ok. You’re ok. I love you. I love you so much,’ Namjoon whispered sweet nothings into your hair and you focussed more on the feeling of his lips than his actual words. Eventually your eyes became heavy and you thankfully slipped away from this awful evening.

Morning came and Namjoon was still holding you. He was reluctant to let you go. Your head was heavy and you felt like were moving underwater. This was often the way after a bad night. You’d finally learnt to recognise the signs, learnt to treat them as something external, symptoms, side affects, not personal failings, character flaws.

Namjoon had learnt too. Just as you had so quickly become attuned to his bad days, the days he couldn’t leave the bed, the days he communicated solely through text messages and grunts, the days he was tired of fronting, tired of masking. It’d been hard, so hard. But you’d eventually let him in too. Let him take care of you. Stopped being so vigilant to everyone else’s needs and let him catch you.

You both stayed in bed for a long time, waking up slowly before letting yourselves fall back asleep again. Joon ordered room service and made you tea, forcing you to drink something and nibble on toast. Wordlessly and easily you moved in time with the other, understanding each others signals. Only the occasional ‘come on’, ‘jagi’, or ‘baby,’ from Namjoon as he coached you into returning back to your body. He’d put the phones somewhere you both couldn’t see them, and while you read, he went and drew you a bath.

The sound of the crowds, thickly ringing the hotel, continued to echo into the afternoon. Ideally Namjoon had wanted to take you somewhere outside, go for a walk to a park or a convenience store, something easy and familiar. But that simply wasn’t possible.

‘Jagiya,’ he called softly to you, still lying in bed, reading your book and tracing the late afternoon sun spots. ‘I’m taking you home tomorrow, is that ok?’

You nodded softly, allowing Namjoon to drag you across the bed into his arms. You felt numb. You felt tired.

——————————————————————

‘Absolutely not.’

Namjoon was trying to find his current reading book before heading to the studio. He’d reluctantly returned to work a couple days after you’d both come back to Seoul. You’d insisted, insisted that you were ok now. Maybe he’d jumped the gun.

‘You are not going anywhere near him, especially not alone.’ He came and stood in the doorway of your study, like he could physically stop you from leaving.

‘Jin is leaving in a couple of days, I’m not going to be the cause of any tension or awkwardness that’ll ruin his send off. You guys need each other more than ever now.’

You get up, matching his stance.

‘You haven’t done anything,’ he punctuated the ‘you’. ‘If anyone’s ruined anything it’s him. He crossed the fucking line.’

You sigh. Your fingers graze his arms, you can feel the anger vibrating just under there. He pretends it’s not there, he pretends you don’t know. He thinks he’s protecting you. You don’t say anything, just gently need the tension from his arms.

His hands eventually fall to your hips before travelling up your back and neck. He leans down and kisses you, your face between his hands like an offering. Its not horny. Its gentle. It’s protective. It’s like you’re the most precious thing in the word. ‘I won’t let him hurt you again.’ He whispers, refusing to even let your eyes slip from his grasp.

‘I know’, you whisper back. ‘I know Joonie. you’re good jooni, so good.’

——————————————————————

Yoongi hadn’t attempted to reach out to you since the night of the concert. Not that he would usually text you, it’d be more disturbing if he had.

As soon as Joon had left for the studio, you texted Jungkook to let him know phase 1 was complete. Jungkook’s job was to keep Joon distracted just long enough to execute phase 2. Before you could think about it too much, you picked up your phone and dialled.

‘Meet me at the convenience store in Dosan. I want to talk.’

——————————————————————

Mid afternoon the streets were almost deserted in Gangnam. Everyone was working or at least trying to avoid the mid afternoon heat. You sat at a plastic picnic table, your back against the shop’s glass windows and your feet up on the bench. You sipped on your coffee - hot drinks in hot weather, you’d learnt that working service - and watched the fruit cellar obnoxiously ring his bell, hopping from one dappled island of shade to another. If the coward didn’t show then at least you’d had a pleasant afternoon.

Two bottles of beer were carefully placed on the table, the clink of glass bringing you back to reality. ‘I thought you might like something stronger than coffee.’

Yoongi’s face was almost completely covered - the classic idol combo of bucket hat, sunnies and face mask - but he still radiated sheepishness.

You say nothing, and watch him eventually open the bottle and pour you a glass. It was unnecessarily formal for a convenience store. But you thought, let him play host. Let him show the foreigner good korean table etiquette.

You take a swig and return to watching the fruit seller. He has some customers now. It’s quite busy. They’ll need to form a line.

You’re both silent for a long time. Neither one of you are great conversationalists and Yoongi seems to be on the brink of an aneurysm. Eventually you relent.

‘Listen,’ your Korean is tense but you know it’s correct, you’ve made sure it’s correct, you refuse to give him an inch. ‘You were right the other night. It’s fucked up how the west and Europe looks at Asia, especially relatively new democracies like Korea. We hold them to,’ you gesture with your hand as you look for the word, ‘unbelievably high standards and then judge them for it. we judge you from democracies that are far far from perfect, democracies that are always on the edge of fascism, democracies that are built off the blood and backs of slavery, colonialism and ecological devastation. We forced you all to speak English and now English is the lingua Munda. You’re right to be angry, you’re right to be upset, especially considering the awful things this country has had to deal with from the likes of the USA. It must be incredibly frustrating and patronising to have to learn English, conduct interviews in English and be constantly asked for everything to be in English, to be considered worthy of international recognition. If anything you guys are proof that you don’t need English at all to dominate the global stage.’

Yoongi went to open his mouth then, but you waved him away.

‘But that doesn’t mean that you get to talk to me like that. Not you. Not anyone. Everything that you said, I’ve thought about myself ten times over and ten times worse. Namjoon and I have had so many conversations about this; before I came to Korea I had some understanding of the history of violence and colonialism this country had been subjected to for centuries, from the Japanese, from the US. But I still came to it from s western, trans-Atlantic understanding of colonialism and I’ve been working and researching to understand these different histories and thoughts and ways of speaking so I can fully understand. It’s a huge part of my job Yoongi, working in Gwanju.’

You could feel yourself getting off track. You took another swig of beer and tried to rain it back. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you, he was staring out into the street. You weren’t sure if your Korean was making any sense.

‘White guilt, western guilt, it’s boring and fruitless. It puts the onus on those who’ve been subjected to these systems of systemic violence. I know this. But in that moment Yoongi what you said was cruel and hurtful and i panicked and I needed to get the fuck out of there. You were right I missed half the show, I don’t know what happened out there, but whatever it was, whatever all of,’ again you gesture wildly, ‘whatever all of this fucked up fuckery we live in is, you don’t get to use me as a…a punching bag.’

Your Korean had become shaky at the end and you’d stumbled into English just so you could finish your point. You weren’t used to defending yourself, it still went against your instincts. Your heart was racing.

For a couple minutes, the sound of your breath was all you could hear, blood rushing to your ear drums.

‘It’s not true.’

‘What?’ You look up, Yoongi was now looking directly at you.

‘You said that what I’d said had been true. It wasn’t true. None of it was true. It was xenophobic and racist. You’re right, we’re subjected to these fucked up systems but that doesn’t mean that we can weaponise them and manipulate them to hurt each other, that’s not how they will end.’

You look at him, unconsciously mouthing some of his words as you try to process them in your head.

‘I’m sorry Y/N. I’m really sorry that I hurt you. I knew about your panic attacks. I knew what I was doing. It was completely and utterly fucked up, I’m so so sorry. You’re so great with Joon and I-

‘You don’t think that.’

He faltered. ‘What?’

‘You don’t think that I’m good with Namjoon,’ you repeated. ‘Ever since we started dating, you’ve avoided me, you never talk to me.’

‘I-‘

‘In fact you often leave the room if im in it. I think the other night was perhaps the longest conversation we’ve ever had, if you can call it that.’

Yoongi seemed to close then. He drew back. You sighed, you were tired of this. ‘Namjoon acts like it doesn’t matter but you’re his best friend Yoongi. I know he’s used to telling you everything. He’s so angry right now. I don’t want to come between you two, I don’t want him to lose you. He needs you.’

Yoongi looked up suddenly at that. His eyes were bright. ‘I don’t want to lose him either.’ He whispered, quickly ducking his head and raking his hands through his hair. You were worried he might try pull it out.

‘I’m sorry i treated you the way that I did. It was cruel and unnecessary, to you and Namjoon.’

You folded your arms and cocked your head.

‘I was weary. And it wasn’t because you weren’t Korean, I’ve close friends who’ve married people not from Korea, who’ve moved abroad-‘

‘Careful,’ you interjected, smiling. ‘You’re starting to sound like those people who insist that they aren’t racist because they have black friends.’

‘-but I was worried about how it’d affect the music,’ he persisted. ‘I was worried about how Namjoon’s priorities would not only shift towards love but also across continents and languages. I was worried he’d be stretched too thin and that the music would suffer.’ He looked at you then, before voicing your deepest fears. ‘That he would suffer.’

‘I’ve known him since he was young and he wasn’t like the rest of us. He’d never allowed himself to get distracted by girls or love. He’d been 100% on the music and the group, nothing else. Part of me worried about the music, but a big part of me worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle it.’ He grabbed your hand then, he could see the guilt and panic start to fester behind your eyes. ‘Because he was falling hard for you Y/N, so hard, harder I think than any of us have fallen before.’

You nodded, unable to speak.

‘I love him Yoongi,’ you breathed, not daring to look away.

Yoongi let go of your hand, he leaned back and took a swig of beer. He fiddled with the label, tearing it into tiny pieces.

‘The truth is Y/N that I’ve never seen him so happy.’ Yoongi rolled the shreds of bottle label into tiny cigarettes and laid them in a row on the table. ‘His songwriting is on s different level and, and he’s calmer,’ your breath catches in your throat at that one. ‘He’s calmer and you can see behind his eyes, you know, he’s not…always putting up a front.’

Yoongi stopped talking then. But you didn’t dare start. You didn’t want to break the spell.

‘I said some fucked up shit the other night. One thing I said was that he must be so tired coming home to you and having to speak English, but it’s not true. I’ve never seen him so healthy, so full of energy. I don’t know your relationship, and that’s my fault, but I don’t think you drain him at all. Not in the slightest. I think you do the opposite, Y/N. Im sorry.’

Yoongi leaned back then, pretended to watch the people walking past. His shoulders slumped forward.

‘I want to be friends Yoongi.’

His head whipped around. He must have misheard you. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I want to be friends Yoongi.’ You repeat again, smiling at him.

He blinks at you. ‘What is this? Primary school? You want to be my friend? Is it that easy?’

‘It can be. If you want it to be.’

Yoongi leaned back before suddenly smiling and getting up from the table with outstretched arms. ‘Come here, noona.’

You laugh and meet him in the hug.

‘You’re older than me!’

He grips you in a bare hug and shakes you from side to side. ‘Doesn’t matter, you’re far wiser than I will ever be.’

Suddenly a car pulls up and Jungkook is apologetically staring at you both from the driver’s seat. Before any of you can register what’s going on, Namjoon has vaulted out of the passenger side, across the car and scooped you into his arms.

‘Oh my god, I was so worried.’ His hands moved across your face and hair as if to make sure everything was where he’d last left it. ‘I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour but you haven’t been answering. I was freaking out and then Jimin said that Yoongi had also gone awol and hadn’t been in his studio for at least an hour and we put two and two together-‘

It was at that moment that Namjoon remembered Yoongi standing there, his arms swinging from where you’d been ripped from them. Namjoon instinctively put himself between you and him.

‘What do you want? What did you say to her? You’ve got some fucking nerve coming anywhere near her.’

Jungkook was out the car now and fruitlessly had his hands between the two, unsure who he was going to have to hold back.

You scoffed and pushed past Joon. ‘It’s ok Joon. It’s fine.’ You kept a steady hand on his arm.

‘We talked it out. It’s ok. It’s sorted, Yoongi apologised, all is forgiven, I promise.’

Namjoon’s eyes flitted between yours and Yoongi’s, the pain in them at having to fight his best friend over his girlfriend starting to seep through.

Yoongi must’ve seen it as well because he stepped forward. ‘Joon it’s true. She called me. I apologised, atoned for my sins, we solved neo-colonialism and late capitalism, we’re good.’ Namjoon’s eyes were still tight, he wasn’t moving. Yoongi sighed and grabbed his neck before Jungkook could intervene, leaning his forehead against Joon’s. ‘She’s incredible bro. You’re lucky to have her. I’m so fucking grateful she forgave me. I can’t wait to get to know her better. Can you forgive me?’

There was an intense few seconds. Before some silent communication took place because suddenly Namjoon and Yoongi were in the deepest of hugs. The kind of bear hug guys will do, slapping each other on the back and sort of rocking back and forth. You joined Jungkook on the sidelines, leaning against the car and trying not to laugh at the greatest romance in history unfolding before your eyes.

‘I missed you bro.’

‘I missed you too.’

‘Uughh!’ Jungkook loudly groaned, ribbing you. ‘Hyung can we go get tonkatsu now or what?’

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.74)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, Harmless Sickfic, So much fluff, Light angst, Brief smut, brief mentions of intercrural sex, slick, a bit of spanking, implied d/s, under negotiated scene but everyone is okay with it, Mommy kink, mommy tae, baby dom tae, Brief daddy kink too, implied yandere Jin, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, discussions of free use, free use! jungkook, clothing control, dollification if you squint, forced caretaking if you squint, nudity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, implied omegaspace, preheats,

W/c: 21.1k

A/n: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out <3 the last couple of weeks have been...not great! Here it is! I will repay you guys with my hiatus by giving you possibly the longest bily chapter ever! The heat arc will take two more chapters! No idea how long those will be but i greatly enjoyed making this chapter the fluffiest little bundle of scenes I could. i did not hold back- i think we've all needed a bit of softness.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

You are belly down in the nest when you first come too.

Your chest is pressed to the cuddle of blankets dragged beneath your tummy. Soft and cozy, warm breath tickling the back of your neck. Your sweet sweet omega packmates have made you the best nest in existence. Comfy and plush, you can sense the high walls and the care that they put into the placement of every pillow.

The scents from both of them (milk and honey) flutter past your consciousness, tugging you down and down, covering you like a physical shadow. So sweet you want to roll around in it.

If only you had the energy for it, your body feels like a lead weight.

You're not alone here but you might as well be for how scent-drunk you are. Can omegas get scent drunk on other omegas? Distantly you can hear voices talking. Downstairs? Or in the dressing room? your brain moves sluggishly, not a single coherent thought filling your head other than how truly comfortable you are.

It’s perfect, Jinnie and Koo are the best at nest-making.

Your inner omega is not entirely satisfied until you can smell all of your pack, you nuzzle forward to search for them. The soft fabric by your pillow smells like Yoongi- like chocolate. Sweet and heady and almost melty. The cinnamon and caramel and coffee are harder to pick out, the vanilla less so because Jimin had suctioned himself to your back in the night, nosing at your shoulders until he settled. The whole nest smells like your pack. Smell safe, smells like home.

Someone has opened up the curtains early (or is it late into the morning?) rather meanly. Soft light turns yellow behind your eyelids. You shield your face from the light in a blanket that smells like Tae. Burrowing underneath it and hiding.

Something warmer and less ephemeral than sunlight dances up and down your spine. Arresting your escape into dreamland and waking you gently. Rubbing harder with every moment.

“Honey.”

You huff, voicing your protests at being woken. Screwing your eyes shut.

“Pup” Yoongi stresses. You chirp, a little bratty. He huffs a fond sigh before really putting his hands to use gripping you under your ribs to lift you up gently.

Or at least trying too. You flop back against the blankets limp, refusing to open your eyes. Fingers tangled in the nest like a child would clutch at a well-loved stuffed animal (there are well-loved stuffed animals here, mostly ringing the nest like little soldiers, your addition to the nest). Your body feels so good- listless and tired and sleepy. You don’t answer your mate with more than a grumble, trying to turn back over. Tummy, you need to be on your tummy.

Yoongi laughs, actually laughs, and despite your best efforts you start to wake you do starts to feel more awake. His sleepy giggle and the flutter of your heart is better than an alarm clock.

Why stay asleep when you have so much to wake up to? Your mind doesn’t get the memo, remaining fuzzy and sluggish.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be late and…” Something smells very very sweet, almost syrupy on the air. You don’t mind the smell, but Yoongi smells a little sour. A little stress bitter- more 87% dark chocolate and not hot chocolate goodness. What could he possibly have to be stressed about when the nest feels like this? All he has to do is nest and he'll be right as rain, you wish you could tell him that, but your mouth remains sleep-slack and pouty.

His hand holds your hip, keeping your legs closed. Keeping your legs from parting. You cling to the pillow that smells like Tae. Intent on putting it between your legs and hugging it and not him if your mate is going to be mean and wake you.

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. Yoongi stops you.

“You’re gonna get it all over the bed and that if you’re not careful, and if you do Jin definitely isn’t gonna let you go with Namjoonie without giving you a scolding. And you know how he likes his scolding’s-”

Your body warms and sweetens, You bring your legs together, intent on pushing up in the nest and telling him off. But it’s then that you feel it. The cold, the wetness of slick between your legs.

Oh

You sit up so quick the room spins. Hair fluffing, all cowlicky and messy all over your head. You look first at Yoongi then anxiously between your thighs where the grey fabric of your pajamas has already darkened.

You’re not proud of the way that you slam the bathroom door in Yoongi’s face. His voice is muffled and worried. “It’s alright- it happens with Jin and Jungkook sometimes too, leaking slick is perfectly normal-”

You whine, high-pitched, embarrassed. cutting him off. “Give me a second! I’m fine just-” You keep your hands pressed to the door, holding it closed. Yoongi waits for a breath and the doorknob stops turning. You can hear his sigh from the other side of the door.

Someone opened up the window in the bathroom and you're thankful now- the scent of your slick is not quite so cloyingly sweet. Cold spring air tickles your toes, at odds with the heated flooring.

“Alright, want me to keep the others away?”

“Yes, please and thank you.” Your head hits the door. Resting your forehead against the wood.

A bit of slick trails down your thigh, threatening to land on the floor. You make an alarmed noise.

“Can you get me some clean clothes?”

“Oh yeah, shit- Sorry-”

There are bathing suits hanging on the side of the deep tub- from you and Tae and Hobi last night. from when you'd used the hot tub out on the balcony and soaking away your soreness last night. One of them slides to the floor (Tae’s, bright pink, crusted with pearls like a mermaid) as you hobble to the toilet. Feeling embarrassed and thankful that no one’s there to see you.

You’d gotten kissy and overheated in the tub. Water bubbling around you and concealing your wandering hands. Tae’s bathing suit pulled to the side and yours too eventually. Leaving Hobi pink-cheeked and watching from the other side- teasing himself with the distance.

Until they’d both sandwiched you. Bottoms pulled to the side under the water. Both of your alpha's working in tandem. Knots pressing between the chub of your thighs and sometimes up into the slick plush of your pussy lips. Neither of them slipped inside because you’d said you didn’t want it- that you just wanted to be teased.

And tease they had; with Tae’s cock sliding up between your body and the fabric of your bikini, sat upon her lap. Hobi’s mouth, trailing down the front plunge of your bikini and taking it off eventually. Both of them breathing heaving and nibbling.

You’d felt like a chew toy in the best way. Soft- turned on, not nervous, not anxious. Because neither of them seemed to have any intent on fucking you or knotting you or had been at all upset when you said you didn’t want to fuck. That you just wanted to be touched and nothing else.

You really liked it, being touched without it going anywhere. It’s not exactly surprising that you’d had what surely must have been a wet dream after.  

Yoongi had complained a bit about having to drain the water out of the tub when you’d come in dizzy and body humming, carefully corraled between your two pink-cheeked alphas, but you know he hadn't actually been upset. Just teasing.

You and Yoongi haven't been intimate in that way since your fight and blow-up and then eventual reconciliation but at least the kisses have been lingering and slow and not without heat. The regular intimacy is back, the cuddling too- and you know it's only a matter of time until that part of your relationship unfurls again.

Neither of you are in any sort of rush. You've taken your last three showers with him, had shampooed his hair and shaved his scratchy chin last shower, with him sitting on the shower bench and you standing between his legs. Yesterday after Tae and Hobi had dragged you into the hot tub.

But he hadn't taken you, even though his eyes had been on you and his hands had touched a little softer, a little longer. and he knew exactly what you'd just been doing with tae and hobi by your scent alone. His cock hadn't been completely soft against his thigh but he hadn't asked or initiated anything. Neither had you.

Granted, You hadn’t wanted to be sore for your and Namjoon’s travel day today. Yoongi is a very very considerate mate and packmate.

Now you sit on the edge of the toilet and pull down your pants, cringing when you see the mess of slick that soaks your pj's and darkens the fabric from grey to black. You wonder if it's just the stress of travel and leaving your pack or if there are other things at play here.

Given how you’d forgotten about your and Namjoon’s first date until several weeks after having made the plans for it- it's a little predictable that you’d also forgotten your plans to go on a little vacation with the pack alpha. Granted you'd made your plans shortly before you’d tried to leave them, and that had also kinda distracted both of you, but tomato tamato.

It’s been three months since all of that went down. Springtime is well on its way. The trees are going to leaf out any moment now and join the blooming cherry blossom and crabapple trees and magnolias that dot your section of town. You can barely walk with Hobi to work anymore without him pointing out the magnolia trees and promising that he'll plant one in your front yard before the summer is over.

Soon but not quite yet.

It’s the blooming trees that had actually inspired your trip with Namjoon; Namjoon got the idea when you’d been driving with him to another doctor’s appointment. You'd been quiet, nervous, nose pressed to the window to watch for trees, and you'd asked him to slow down so that you could look longer at the pink tangles of trees along the waterfront.

Namjoon loves to indulge.

You’d perused Airbnb’s together, knitted close one evening on the couch, a glass of wine and Jungkook’s pinky tucked into one limb and Namjoon pressed close on the other. Tae’s laptop balanced on his thighs and Jin on his other side. Because even if your packmates wouldn't be coming- they still want a hand in the planning. The nosey bunch that they are.

You’d planned it out with Jin watching with hawk eyes and deeming certain packages too pedestrian for you, not fancy enough or not romantic enough. You’d finally landed on a hot spring, up north- apparently known for its secluded views and cherry blossoms at this time of year.

Appropriately bougie and appropriately brief at 3 days and 2 nights but special enough for what Namjoon had dubbed your first anniversary present.

You’d talked about it, tangled up with Namjoon on the front porch under about a dozen blankets just to watch the birds getting fat and happy on spring suet and seeds. Hobi hung up the birdfeeders there just for you and Namjoon to enjoy on your mornings.

You and Namjoon watch the birds often on the front porch, now that it's warm enough to sit out here for extended stretches. With him working so infrequently, you've been able to spend a lot more time with him.

Your love with him has always been slower, gentler than the others. Namjoon loves being delicate with you and loves treating you like the fine china that you are. You feel the delicacy in the way he touches you all the time and in the way that he encourages your slow mornings.

Your mouth rounded out and kissed pink from his mouth a second ago, kissing you when the birds don’t linger near the feeder so that your squeaks don’t spook them. Your shirt pulled up as you slid down the cushion, bare skin that Namjoon’s fingers had teased at. A touch just to touch. Tickling at your ribs until you giggle at him to stop.

Petting up and down your sides, he can’t feel your ribs anymore. Hasn’t been able to in months. He indulges in the feeling of your soft skin while you watch the birds flutter. “I don’t know if we can call May our anniversary, you didn’t kiss me really until June.”

“Doesn’t matter, We met in May.”

You'd snorted, "thats not an anniversary Joonie. What was it love at first sight?"

"No," Namjoon says, honest, but that's why you love him, leaning in nose had pressed against your mating mark, sniffing deeply. Letting out a satisfied grumble. "Maybe home at first sight though. I think I could already feel it- that you and Yoongi were mated. I think I just didn’t want to admit it to myself yet.”

Anniversaries and special days aside. The rest of the pack had been predicably jealous when you'd shown them the pictures of the hotel. Not too jealous- because the pack has another vacation in the works at the end of the summer. An idea that’s only just starting to crest their minds. Why shouldn’t they travel now? They don’t have pups- and this might be one of the last summers they have.  

Tae had leaned in over Namjoon’s computer, “Wait this is so pretty- and for photos! I want to go look at all the pink” She’d whined. Jimin had just shaken his head and leaned close to press a kiss to her temple to distract her. Almost hitting one of Tae’s space buns in the process.

“We can always go to the botanical gardens for pictures honey.”

“Yeah! That way you can show me when we get back! and we'll have pictures to show each other” You’d chirped, trying to be comforting.

Sometimes in the pack, it’s hard to separate your relationships out into their single pairs, beyond soon-to-be mated pairs and soulmates aside. It’s hard not to want to do everything together.

But getting away with the pack alpha for a few days is probably going to be good for all of you. A day or two apart and some time to decompress. A brief stretch so that you only miss each other more.

To have the pack alpha’s undivided attention is something that you’re both excited and nervous about.

He’s taking you to a resort and hot springs up north. Surrounded by a cherry blossom grove that’s earned its spot at the top of several travel blogs as the number one event to do in the spring. It's not a terribly long trip and mid-week because the rest of the rooms had been booked up for the weekends already. But Namjoon had still insisted that you get a room with an attached private spring. T

here’s a cherry blossom trail on the grounds and a nice dinner planned for tomorrow night. But nothing else planned for the third day beyond your drive home. Namjoon had heard of this cute little roadside bakery that he wanted to stop at on your way for breakfast.

You’ve been bouncing up and down with excitement since last night- your singular suitcase packed yesterday morning by Tae and Jungkook- who had demanded you pack a quite frankly concerning amount of lingerie.

But even you had to admit that this is an undeniably sexy vacation. You hadn’t planned anything beyond your walk and dinner, mostly because you’d both expected to do something else for the majority of your trip.

Mostly having raunchy passionate hotel room sex… not that Namjoon even said explicitly that that's what he wants to do with you on this vacation. But he hadn't exactly not hinted at that either with the private onsen suite.

But looking down at your soiled panties, slick sticky, and darkening the fabric, you feel the least sexy that you have in weeks.

“What the fuck” you mutter. Quiet. Yoongi knocks at the door again. Softer.

“Can I come in?”

“One sec.”

The sound of crumpling toilet paper and Jin cursing downstairs becomes louder. The windows are open up here and down there and you can hear him and the cracking of metal pans against each other. Hobi’s laugh. The sound of the dishwasher going downstairs. Noodle meows at the front door. You can hear all of it. Yoongi’s footsteps back and forth by the door. Quiet words.

Is your hearing overly sensitive? Or are they all just loud? 

“Give us a sec Jk, sorry but can you go downstairs for a moment?”

Jungkook’s worried voice, the sound of kisses pressed to his lips, “Sure hyung, going for a run anyway,” Then quieter, so soft that you can’t hear- "Is she alright?”

"Yeah, it’s not nerves if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jungkook breathes in deeply, and lets out a knowing sound as he scents slick on the air. "Want me to keep Jin-hyung away?"

"Please."

This is decidedly not normal for you. Normal for Jungkook sure- he has the most regular dirty dreams out of the whole pack. A few times a week you wake up to the smell of slick, sweet and tempting on the air and more than one alpha tempted to do something about it. Rewarded with Jungkook’s sweet submission when they give in to their temptations.

You've gotten used to his sleepy and quiet ah ah ah's waking you up.

You like morning kisses when Jungkook's getting fucked, it's almost like he forgets how to talk and kiss when he's being dicked down. when you wake up in the morning to gentle repetitive rocking and the sound of soft kisses. Hobi or Tae or Namjoon or Jimin tucked up behind him.

Jungkook likes it best when you pretend like you don't know what they're doing. When you sidle up to his front for a cuddle. You like to hear their croons of "don't be rude to your nestmate Jungkook, give her a good morning kiss." You like tasting Jungkook's shakey sighs against your mouth. Tucking yourself close to him and falling back asleep to the gentle hum of, "You better not cum, you might get the pup all messy, dirty little omega."

You like to be around when they're intimate, it makes you feel like you're still apart of it without any of the fear of being too much or not wanting sex enough. You've been easing up on the fine lines between all of you, on the more free-flowing and free-use parts of your relationship. Starting to explore it safely the way they haven't really had the opportunity too since before you became a part of their pack.

You hadn't really understood free use until jungkook explained it to you.

One afternoon, All of the pups having 'pup time' as Namjoon and Jin had started to call it- but is really just playing Mario cart in the backroom on lazy rainy afternoons. You'd snorted at his explanation. rearranging the plushies in your nesting nook. a note of skeptisizim in your voice.

"I'm not going to just like- push you down and sit on your face? That seems kinda mean Koo."

"For the record the idea of that is really hot." Jimin had tipped his head back, smashing buttons. Tae had hummed agreeing with jimin and combed her long fingers through Jimin's hair while she waits for her turn. Hobi had snorted smashing buttons and clicking.

"It's not mean though- not like mean mean."

Tae's fingers brushing between his legs had distracted him, touching him to tease and feel how hard he is. His little cock a chubby little secret, but jk knows to stay still under Tae's inspection. Jk's little cursor had slipped right off the rainbow road and fallen into space and Tae's hands had slipped off of him too. making him squirm.

"I just like how it feels sometimes, like I'm yours to have and take." Tae continued like nothing was amiss, had pet through his hair as if she hadn't just felt him up. Jungkook's sweet sweet scent is the only tell.

Tae had winked at you over Jungkook's shoulder. "It's kinda like how Namjoon was during a rut right?"

Jungkook's voice was rough, "Right. It's like- I don't know how to explain it- Soothing? That I know you're getting everything you want from me." Jungkook had shaken himself. "You don't have to join in if you don't want too- Hobi doesn't"

You'd turned to Hobi for confirmation, sat closest to you. his back leaned up against the rattan of your nesting nook. Completely focused on the screen and not on your conversation. "I'm like totally lapping you jk."

"No fair, I can't concentrate when I'm talking about sex." The round ends, Hobi wins and Jungkook and Tae swap controllers.

Tae flops down on Jimin's lap, his arms wrapping around her waist and head hooking over her shoulder fluidly. "If I beat you you owe me a kiss."

"Don't make me want to lose. It's not going to work."

"Oh it totally works you just don't want to admit it."

"I'm ready to Loose." Hobi snorts. and is rewarded by a kiss to his cheek.

without a controller, jk looks at you more fully. "We probably won't really start to do it for a little while, at least not not until-" Jungkook falls silent, and the next moment. Yoongi sidles up to the double doors, peering inside smiling at the sight of all of you heaped close. going quiet. "You know you guys could just sit on the couch instead of the floor."

"Not as comfy"

"Do you have room for one more?"

"Hyung you are so on."

Maybe Yoongi's distance with you would be easier to handle if you didn't also know he's been just as distant with the rest of the pack. Sexual needs ebb and flow, desire ebbs and flows too. Not everyone is like Jungkook- constantly in need, constantly simmering heat. Which is one of the reasons why free use for him is less of a want and more of a need. As much as you like to joke that Jungkook is a bit of a nymphomanic, he really does need that kind of gratification to feel loved.

This- the leaking slick, so rarely happens to you and Jin.

This feels disorienting. The bathroom spins. You’d leaked so much slick in your sleep that you’d soaked through your underwear and your pajama pants. they sit in a heap on the floor. Your panties are ruined.

You don’t think it’s just excitement for your trip. You don’t even remember having a dirty dream. You don't feel turned on, dizzy and a little dehydrated.

You can’t put back on your clothes but you tell Yoongi he can come in anyway. Sitting on the top of the toilet, your shirt long enough to cover your bareness but even you have to admit that he’s seen you in far worse states.

He lets out a small alarmed noise but keeps the door cracked behind him. He stoops to the floor to pick up your ruined pajama bottoms, putting them in the laundry. He’s got another pair in his hands and a pair of clean underwear too. He’s alarmed judging by the wide set of his eyes, looking up to your thighs and then your face.

“It’s just the excitement about leaving.” You don't even believe it as it comes out of your mouth.

He stoops and gets on his knees. He puts your feet through the leg holes, fingers on your calves. Humming.

Things have been better between the two of you recently, this isn't strange. Things are going back to the way they where slowly. There’s been little kisses here and there, laughter too; like when you both went out to the beach to stargaze a few weeks ago. just the two of you, a rare lone outing.

The lights were stark and cold up above and Yoongi's smile anything but. His back against the sand and the deep warm sound of his laughter chasing the winter winds away. A Lingering brightness dancing on the edge of your fingers, starlight jumping from your skin to his, close and warm in the night.

"What did you wish for?"

"Nothing"

Then after a moment, you'd admitted it. "For you to be happy"

"I'm already happy sweetheart"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Guess I wasted my wish then."

"I think you can make another wish, that one doesn’t count."

"Okay." A beat, a breath, a kiss to your cheek.

"Did you do it yet?"

"Yoongi-"

He still takes care of you- although the intention behind each action brews a little more balanced than before. He takes care of you and you take care of him too. You hold his latter when he gets up on it to paint, and hand him tools when Hobi’s car needs a tune-up. You follow him around the house the same way he used to follow you around.

You've begun minding his health the same way the others mind yours- you'd made him take vitamin C when he started coughing in mid-March. And nursed him through the unglamorous episode and illness that followed.

You'd held his hand while Namjoon had listened to his lungs and pouted at him each time he tried to get up when he should have been resting. Made him soup and babied him for the week he'd spent coughing and then cuddled him through his fever. Kept him plied with ice water and cough drops and miraculously hadn't caught the same mystery illness.

You’ve been trying to find a middle ground, a new kind of honesty that you hadn’t had before. He takes care of you now just as much as you take care of him.

Now, Yoongi’s hand hovers on your ankle. On his knees in front of where you sit and you’re nearly at eye level with him. You watch his nostrils flare, and his lips descend into a frown as he looks between your thighs. If it were anyone else you'd feel self-conscious.

“What are you thinking?”

Yoongi hesitates before he speaks his suspicion into life. He knows the power his words have and the joy that they have the possibility of ripping away. It's not just your high hopes he's worried about but Namjoon's too.

“Do you think you could be going into heat?”

Your stomach flips, but you instantly shake your head.

When you think internally, You feel no warmth, no wanting in your gut or instincts. You rub your hands over your face. Yoongi hesitates before getting up and washing his hands. Looking at you in the mirror.

“No, I don’t feel-” Your hand hovers over your stomach, and downstairs some pans clatter, and Jin curses loudly again. The pack awaits. You can hear Namjoon’s voice downstairs too. “It could be nothing. It was probably just a dream.”

You cover your face with your hand, quieting the heat in your cheeks. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. Turning around to rest against the sink and look at you, drying his hands slowly. You give him space to say something but when he stays silent you have to ask.

“Do you want me to cancel the trip? I can tell Namjoon, he'd understand.” 

He doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he comes close again, making an alarmed noise when he sees the goosebumps on your thighs and dropping back to his knees, putting your feet through the holes of the clean pj’s and pulling them up slowly. Tender. His fingers hover on your calves treading higher and higher to the sensitive skin on the inside of your knees.

You have a bruise there, from roughhousing with Jk yesterday morning. A battle over prime nesting material you had not won (you'd been happy to lose when the punishment was being manhandled and several hickeys on various parts of your body. Jungkook likes to nibble.)

Yoongi's thumb covers the bruise in its entirety. “How far is the drive again?”

“Three hours.” Yoongi’s teeth worry away at his lower lip and it takes him a second to debate it internally

“You could come home, if something went wrong, Namjoon would drive you home.” Someone is coming up the stairs, you can hear the creek of the old wood, and you won't have your privacy for much longer.

You lean forward, hitting your forehead with his. “Yeah. You’re right.” Yoongi pecks your nose and stands up, stashing the last of your soiled clothes in the laundry basket where the smell of slick won’t be noticed.

Tae knocks the same second that you pull up your pants. Just in time, you’ll have to undress anyway to shower- but you don’t need her wondering why you and Yoongi are cleaning up your slick and hiding it from the others.

Tae grins from the cracked door once she sees it's just you and Yoongi, nudging it open with her toe completely unaware of the trouble brewing. If she notices the scent of your slick on the air she doesn't say anything. Her hips sway as she leans up against the door. Hands behind her back, holding something grinning at you.

“Can I pick out your outfit?”

“Something tells me you already have; I need to shower first.”

Tae has been taking a lot more free reign when it comes to you and your outfits. It's the one thing you had been interested in when Jungkook had first started to ask about free use. The one thing you'd been curious about.

You'd raised your eyebrow at it the first time you'd noticed Jin and tae set out Jungkook's workout set before work. Shivered and watched as they palmed and tugged and dressed him before letting him go with a kiss and a small tap to his bottom. Jungkook had that wide hazy look in his eyes, a slack grin on his mouth, subspace or omegaspace or some tangle of the two.

You'd been stuttering and unsure, "can we, can you- would you choose my clothes for me too?"

Both of them, Jin and Tae, had stood up straighter, both of them near purring- like they'd been waiting for you to ask. (You haven't forgotten and neither have they- how you call Jinnie daddy and Tae mommy. Although you've begun to use the latter name more casually with Tae).

You are still warming up to it, but Tae's been setting out your clothing most mornings and Jin's been selecting your pj’s each night. Your and Jin's routine usually comes with a hole check and settling if you ask for it nicely (a cock and knot if you ask even more nice, if jin checks your hole and finds you warm and wet and wanting)

While the clothing is not entirely a dominance thing, that needy gleam in their eyes is unmistakable. With Jin, you can almost tell yourself that it's just his grooming instincts, but with tae- the clothing is a little different.

You don’t mind that she likes it, deciding what you wear and how you wear it. You don’t mind that she finds some satisfaction from it- some instinct fulfilled, some pleasure gained. You don’t mind maybe because it’s her and she has good taste, because she so often chooses what you want to wear anyway.

And because, as she so often reminds you, you can tell her no at any time without fear of anger or punishment.

Panties or no panties? A matching set or a soft playsuit for lounging around and nesting? A lacy little bralette or nothing at all?

Actually- I'm going to go for a walk with Hobi today, to the beach. Can I wear one of alpha's sweatshirts?

Of course you can sweetheart.

Maybe because it’s one less decision you have to make, one more way you can let her take care of you. Tae packed your suitcase for this trip because of this newfound sense of give and control.

It's not all endless giving. Tae often checks with you before she does anything too risky.

Tae hadn't been interested in any dominance and submission before you, the one vanilla packmate before her transition. But now that it's here and it's with you, Tae wants and wants and wants. Some of the stuff like with safewords and aftercare she's well acquainted with, but other things are newer for both of you. You know she talks with Namjoon and Jin about it, you know that they are both guiding her with this and teaching her how to be a good dom.

Many evenings Jin looks and inspects what Tae has put you in, their attention makes you shiver and stand straighter, "what a good choice Tae-baby, my good little alpha making our omega so pretty."

One morning blends into another, one morning she doesn't decide at all and then the next she stands there and asks. "Can I push you today?"

You'd squirmed and sat in the dressing room, waiting, negotiating. Jin had already given you a hole check that morning and promised there would be another one later with a heavy look. like he knew before what tae is going to try and do. You'd needed a hole check too- you'd woken up whiney and in omegaspace, sweet and in need of someone to steady your instincts.

"Yes."

You'd stuttered when she'd showed you the dress, the short short hem, fumbled even more when she told you that you wouldn't be wearing anything underneath, that you wouldn't be going anywhere either until someone found out.

(Jimin had been the lucky packmate. Pulling you down onto his lap during breakfast, his bare thighs thick in his shorts. Your cries of "Minnie wait-" came too late when. His raised eyebrows had drawn more than one packmate's attention as he'd held your waist. Stopped you from squirming. his bare skin against your bare skin and wetness, because Tae knew, tae knew and she-

"What is it?" Namjoon had asked. Tae was doing nothing more than grinning and sipping her coffee over his shoulder, watching the situation that she created unfold with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Jimin's fingers had lingered on the hem of your dress. Glancing from you to Tae. "Why don't you come and see hyung?")

Now she holds out a folded dress to you, “guilty.”

You sigh, but Yoongi holds out his hand, helping you stand. You reach for the brush on the counter but Tae beats you to it, standing behind you. So close you can feel her heat down your spine.

You shiver. 

“Guys I can-“

“Nonsense, Mommy will do it.” Tae doesn’t let you lift a finger. And you guess you shouldn’t really be all that fussy or shy, you stay still while Tae detangles your hair and Yoongi starts the shower and sets out your towel and a pair of warm long socks that sit in a heap on top of your folded dress. They won’t have a chance to baby you for the rest of the week (or at least not until Friday when you get home) so you let them take what they can get.

It's not all sexual, it's loving too.

Tae detangles your hair gently, so soft that you're tempted to close your eyes again, especially with the warm steam filling the room. Yoongi stays close, watching you as he stands by the sink and talks to Tae about their plans for tomorrow. Distant plans that you are aware of.

Yoongi's quickly distracted from actually helping you shower by a shout from Hobi downstairs but he doesn't leave without kissing your forehead first. You undress and Tae washes her face and does her skincare routine while you shower. Chatting to you again about your itinerary for today with how she talks you’d almost think that she was coming with but she isn’t.

Today is just for you and Namjoon, the whole weekend really. She’s as excited for you to have some time with Namjoon as you are, maybe even a little bit more excited than you are.

She’s probably just thinking of the outfits.

You're still kind of tired, still kind of half asleep. The steam in the bathroom makes you feel hazy, Tae has to remind you every few seconds not just to lean against the tile under the spray and actually wash your hair. It's just so warm, so nice, here under the warm water surrounded by the scent of her and Yoongi. You paw at the nob to the shower turning it warmer. Sighing when it goes hot.

You must have nodded off for a moment because the rush of cold air from the big glass door opening shocks you into almost slipping. Your hands hit the wet tile to steady yourself. She leans around you, avoiding the water and turning it colder.

“your skin is getting red!” She's alarmed, but not angry as you blink down at your arms and your chest- turned splotchy.

“Yeah, shit, I didn’t realize,” Tae watches you warily, sucking on her lower lip before she prattles on.

"'You're like really sleepy today,"

"Yeah," you say, voice hushed,

"Excited though?" she double-checks.

You grin, dopey "Yeah."

After that everything feels a little hazy, maybe it’s the temperature of the house or just Tae being close. She moves you from the bathroom to the dressing room giggling as you almost bump into the walls, keeping your towel tucked even as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"I really think I need some coffee," you say as you rub your eyes and Tae dots cream over your flushed cheeks. Her answering hum does not promise caffeine.

"In a second, I'm almost done. You can close your eyes while I do your makeup if you need to." You try to fight your drowsiness- you really do. But soon the scent at the apex of her shoulder and neck temps you too much and you squirm closer and closer in search of her warmth.

Tae put you in a robe when you got out of the shower but you still feel so cold. So needy. You squirm until you're sat across her thighs, each knee on either side of her hips in your familiar position. Whining when she finishes your skincare and has to scoot back to do your hair taking your only source of warmth with her.

Her giggle makes you want to bear your throat to her. "I can't curl your hair and cuddle you at the same time pup." You whine, but she's immune, "Be good." a small warning in her tone.

You straighten up, blinking hazily up at her and letting her detangle herself from you to stand, until she tells you that you can close your eyes again.

Your head lolls while she blow-dries your hair, tugged from side to side by the round brush. Tae's giggles and voice are a lullaby. The warm air from the drier sends more and more of her scent fluttering over your nose.

She reaches to pin your hair back and you nuzzle into her wrist. “Pup” she stresses. But you get away with it.

Tae keeps the makeup light; a bit of strawberry-colored blush deepening the flush on your cheeks, faint concealer.

She starts to dress you, pulling the underwear up your thighs and hips with a soft barely there kiss pressed over them that makes you squirm. She tugs the socks up to your mid thigh and guides your arms through the sleeves and over your head. The thick fabric feels a little like a blanket over your knees. Tae pulls it down until it covers all of you.

You don’t bother to look in the mirror quite yet, still nodding off every now and then as she sprays hairspray to set your soft curls in place. "There we go- you're perfect." 

Her fingers on your cheeks prompt you to open your eyes and when you do, you find you're sitting in front of the vanity. Tae's behind you, her dark silk robe at odds with the light flutter of your dress. One of her arms wraps around your shoulders, and the other grips your face, turning your face from side to side to show off her handy work. Her fingers pinch just enough that your lips stick out. Red but hazy around the edges like your lipstick got kissed off or maybe kissed on- it's hard to tell.

You look like a doll; You look pretty (you always look pretty once Tae has had her way with you).

"What do you say pup?" Tae and Jin have both ganged up on you a bit recently about your manners. You don’t mind her sternness if anything it just makes you feel smaller and more pupish- both things you like feeling around Tae.

"Thank you, Mommy." You pout, and Tae rewards you with a soft kiss that makes you squirm. her fingers still digging into your cheeks.

"You're welcome, honey. Let’s go show our boys what they're missing."

~-~

Tall dark boots wait for you by the door, another gift from Tae. Side by side with your suitcase. Prepared and waiting.

You giggle and tug her on down the stairs, going a little fast, ignoring her cries of "pup, slow down" The excitement builds until you hit the bottom step and almost slip, the socks from Yoongi fluffy and slick, Tae makes to grab you and the two of you tumble straight into Namjoon.

The pack alpha lets out a quiet oof.

It's a good thing he's so tall and strong, both of his arms shoot out to steady you.

You blink up at him, and his big hands hover on your shoulders. Dancing along the back plunge of the dress. It’s a baby doll style, checkered pink and blue. the front is boatnecked, but the back plunges open, tied closed with a bow. Namjoon touches your skin through the low backline. his palm rough and warm.

Namjoon steps back for a second. Making a pleased noise. Looking you up and down, “Look at you pup.”

Tae just leans back against the railing and preens. You look to the left and into the mirror.

You look so small compared to Namjoon and Tae. Doe-eyed and like something out of a cottage core fantasy in your outfit. It’s a little doll-like in cut and style, the bow on the back almost coquettish. Namjoon’s wide hands cover the open panel of your back. Running up and down again. You can feel his grumbly purr of satisfaction against your chest.

Tae tugs down the bottom hem of your dress. You sway.

Namjoon has put a bit more effort into his outfit today too. His jeans are new and his sneakers are the first pair of non medical grade non-slip ones he’s owned in years. He’s wearing a plane tee under a button-down, just his usual uniform since he’s started spending more and more time at home and only working 3 days a week. You bury your face in the front of Namjoon’s shirt, nosing aimlessly.

He looks every picture of a pack alpha, big and imposing. Unafraid of taking up space. The pack alpha grins down at you, all but bouncing up and down on his heels in excitement. The sight of him makes you leak slick again. Just a little. you wonder if both of your alpha’s can smell it.

Really- what is going on?  

“Tae, you-”

Namjoon’s tongue-tied but Tae just smiles, small, at the corner of her mouth in that special secret way that girls smile. She curls a lock of your hair around one of her fingers. “You’re welcome Joonie”

Namjoon squishes you a little harder to his chest in cute aggression and you feel your chest squish too. Huh, Tae didn’t put you in a bra. you're not upset just confused- obviously, you're gonna want to sleep on the drive and wearing one all that way would be uncomfortable but Your hand comes up, feeling.

“You fussed,” she says, “didn’t want it.” Reading your mind is just one of Tae’s many talents, but you blink. You like the way that the dress billows out, not hugging your body. The darts on the side still give the effect of hugging your figure without it being tight.

You peak up at him and Namjoon's blushing, so you hide your face in his chest instead of confronting it. His hand crests your shoulder pulling you in closer, giving you permission to rub your face in harder. You scent him sleepy until your breath is hitching.

Noodle yowls and slips through your ankles, purring and trailing after Hobi who just huffs happily, watching the three of you from the living room before he continues plucking blankets off the couch, a half-full basket of laundry in his clutches that he ferries down to the basement.

Namjoon's dimples are little crescent moons to the star of his smile when you pull back. immeidatly ducking back down when the sight of him overwhelmes you. “Having fun down there?” He teases.

“Yes,” you reply stubbornly and he laughs, his stomach pushing out against your sternum. You bury your face back in his shirt again, harder this time. Too shy to meet the pure adoration in his eyes. 

“I’ve just got to put the suitcase and my bag in the car and then we’ll be ready to go okay? Wanna get us some coffee?” You nod, and he pecks your forehead before detangling himself from you.

"Tae!" Hobi calls from the basement. "Can you get me your dirty laundry please?" Hobi, "Jk wants to do it when he gets home but I don't want him carrying anything down the stairs." Tae sighs and heads back upstairs.

A loud clang and more cursing interrupts you where you’re standing in the entryway. But it’s just Jinnie. You follow the source of the noise to the kitchen, hovering unsure by the kitchen island.

If you had a good night's sleep last night- it looks like Jin had the opposite.

Jinnie doesn’t look like his usually perfectly curated omega this morning; his striped robe has stains on the hems. His cheeks are blotchy and his eyes are puffy. His coffee cup leaves rings where it sits on the countertop like his hands had been shaky when he set it down.

He's got about a dozen bags of flour- semolina and almond, caster sugar and regular sugar taking up every available space in the kitchen. Along with just about everything from the confines of your fridge too. He looks like he's half way between breakfast and a deep clean. Even though it's already almost 10.

You watch as he sighs and rubs a hand across his face furrowing his eyebrows when he thinks that no one’s watching. You sidle up behind him and he jumps a few feet in the air, “pup- I didn’t-” You nudge his shoulder with your nose (a special little omegan hello). Jin exhales, and his shoulders relax, no longer up to his ears.

"What are you looking for?" It's the wrong thing to ask. Jin puffs back up almost instantly. The mirror image of Noodle when there's a fly he just can't seem to catch.

Jin pulls the coffee mugs down from where they sit, one after another, putting them down a little hard and quick. "The syrup! I don't know who put it away last but when I find out who did I'll-"

You smile, and wordlessly go over to the sink, opening the door and bending down to reach around in the cleaning supplies, pulling it from all the way in the back with a quiet ah-ha!

"Oh, you-" Jin blinks down at you a little stunned. Then bristles, voice going darker. Eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Did you put it there?"

You are not intimidated at all by Jin's pack omega shenanigans or his grumpiness this early in the morning. Smiling up at him absolutely unbothered by his sour mood. "No, you did!"

Jin pouts, gesturing at you to explain, you shrug and set it on the counter. "It looks the same as a bottle of cleaning supplies, and the last time you gave the kitchen a deep clean you weren't wearing your glasses."

"Oh." Jin's lips are a near-perfect circle, plush where they pout, annoyed with himself. "Thank you." You get up on your tippy toes to peck him on the cheek and dart past him to put your sourdough starter and semolina flour away very very carefully.

Jin starts to undo the rest of his whirlwind, leaving out some of the ingredients so that he can get started on the pancakes. The house is quiet for now, the two of you work side by side in companionable silence.

When you're done, Jin wipes his hands on the cloth. “Do you have everything you need before you go?”

You nod, and Jin's shoulders deflate, leaning up against the counter, he barely manages to hide his crushed expression before he turns away and starts to get to work on the pancakes. He pulls a metal bowl down from the shelf without a word whereas he'd usually ask you for help with it- and starts adding eggs to it indiscriminately, cracking them with one hand.

“Jinnie?” You ask quietly. The eggs go tap-crack-plop. The pack omega hums, but doesn’t look up from the bowl. Pausing after the first few eggs to break the yolks with a large whisk. The scrape of metal against metal jarring.

“Do you, uhm-” his eyebrows are furrowed concentrating on what he’s doing, “Do you want us to stay home today?”

Jin looks up so quickly that he almost cracks the next egg onto the countertop instead of in the bowl. “What! No- what gave you that idea?” Jin sets the bowl down and reaches for you, but you look at his fingers, sticky, and the rest of him- covered with flour. The dress Tae put you in is new, and the flour will surely show.

Jin washes his hands, and dries them, while you get two travel mugs down from the shelf. One green travel mug for Namjoon and a pink one for you. He dries his hands in the cloth while he watches you.

Tae's really really mean, making you look so pretty before you'll leave for so long. Three days. That will be your longest absence from the house, the den, and Jin's nest since the beginning.

Jin feels a little like he's choking. Like his skin is crawling. You're not even going to eat breakfast with them. Even back when Jin still had his day job with the Fbi. Breakfast is your ritual.

Jin lets out a shakey breath, “Of course I want you to go and have fun pup. You and Namjoon have been looking forward to this for weeks.” You pour out coffee and then enough milk into both your and Namjoon’s travel mugs.

“I know, but that wouldn’t mean anything if you wanted us to stay- you seem-” You glance up at him, and miss the next dollop of milk in Namjoon’s cup, getting it all over the counter. “Shit.”

Jin just hums and uses his cloth to whip it up. Almost pinning you to the counter in the process, leaning around you so that he’s sandwiching you in on all sides. His chin hits the top of your head. And when he’s done you flip around looking up at him.

“You’re-” you choose your words carefully, “you’re off today?” he can hear the question in your voice. Tucking an errant hair behind your ear. But he’s not disagreeing with you. You continue to pry. “You feel like Mini does when he’s having a bad sensory day?”

“Yeah,” Jin breathes in and out, and it looks like it takes him effort. You wait for him to say that he needs you, that he really doesn’t want you to go, that the idea of having you outside of the nest is not something that he can handle today.

“Make sure Namjoon texts me when you get there okay? And I want you to call me before you go to bed tonight and show me your nest. If you want to pack some blankets or stuff that smells like us you should- don’t worry about missing the traffic- and- and-”

Hobi thuds up the stairs from the basement, an empty laundry basket in his hands.

“Hey no stealing her-” he wags his fingers, Jin pouts at your alpha, and you watch his eyes follow Hobi. You watch Hobi’s eyes flicker down your body and then back up to your face, and Jin’s arms tighten around your waist.

“Hobi she’s my pup-” but Hobi just wags his finger, you’ve never seen him even try to put Jin in his place before let alone scold him.

Is everyone feeling a little bit off kilter, or is it just you?

“Technically he’s not stealing me, technically I’m stealing his alpha.” Hobi senses the guilty lilt in your voice and shakes his head. Jin pecks your forehead, lingering for just a little bit longer than he might ordinarily before he steps back to his bowl, and adds a dark splash of vanilla to the creamy contents.

“No he's going to get substantially babied by his other three alphas-Jiminie and I are taking everyone out for dinner tomorrow tonight so that no one has to cook or anything- we’re gonna go to one of Tae’s fancy poetry readings and stuff.”

“Oh,” you say. You sort of like Tae’s poetry, sort of love watching her play around with words like she’s a little kid in a sandbox. Two seconds ago, you’d been worried that Jin would feel left out and now-

“Can you check the oil in your car before they leave?” Jin asks. Hobi’s eyes flicker to his and then yours.

“Yeah, when are you guys heading out?”

You pout, feeling guilty, “sort of right now.”

“Oh shit. I thought-” Hobi shakes his head, and for a second you think you see something like disappointment cross his features. “I’ll do it now.”

Hobi has graciously allowed you to borrow his car for the weekend because of its spacious and easy-to-travel interior. Namjoon loads your suitcases into the Lambo while Hobi grabs a wad of paper towels and makes him promise not to ding it- he only just got all the scratches from Jimin buffed out and freshly painted.

Yoongi lingers with you by the front door, watching Hobi pop the hood. Your hands tangled for a second and he drags you in. His cheek resting on top of your head for a second, while you rub your chin across his collarbones, scenting him before you go.

But Namjoon is already waiting by the car, watching you with a soft smile.

Hobi tops the oil off and slowly walks to the front porch, almost like he's prolonging your departure by going as slow as possible. You give a small shiver as the breeze rustles the birdfeeders and the windchimes casting your scent in his direction. His nostrils flare and his eyes dart from you to Yoongi who ever so subtly shakes his head.

Hobi walks up the stairs to you, sweatshirt pulled up to his elbows, curling his hand around your elbow in passing. “One sec- wait.” Namjoon rests his chin on the hood of the car, both your cups steaming into the open air. Yoongi taps his fingers against the balcony railing, and for a second you think he’s going to ask you to stay, that the worry of you going into heat is too much.

But then he doesn’t. You stand close enough to him that his elbow brushes yours.

“Take pictures,” he tells Namjoon. The pack alpha’s cheeks go pink and you make a face. “Yah not those kinds of pictures!” But your mate is smiling and that’s all you need for the last of your nerves to dissipate.

“Love you,” you say without looking at him.

“Love you too, please call.” He looks down at you.

“I will.”

Hobi comes back, he’s got a tangle of fabric in his hands, a scarf of Tae’s, and a hat of his. “It’s not that cold.” You try and wine. “It’s gonna be warm at the hot springs.” Hobi leans down to your level, purposefully pulling his hat over your eyes roughly probably messing up your hair. You whine "My hair- Hobi-" He just grins down at you.

“Do you want to take my jacket? How about some mittens?”

“Guys” You roll your eyes at your packmates, but Yoongi and Hobi wear twin grins. “It is like maybe 50 degrees. Jungkookie went running when it was 30 yesterday.”

“Jungkookie runs all the time.”

“He did it in shorts and without a shirt.” Hobi just messes up your hair again, rubbing around the hat and probably causing a fair amount of frizz. So much for tae's hard work.

“I’ve got the heat warmer on already!” Namjoon calls, and you give your last goodbye kisses before hurring after him down the steps.

“Bye!”

“have fun!”

“Be safe!” 

You ignore the tight feeling in your chest as you pull away from the house, ignoring the same way that Yoongi- still standing on the porch, starts breathing heavily. His eyes going a bit wild, panicking just a tiny tiny bit. Hobi wraps his arms around him in a hug and holds him through the anxiety. You are already down the street when Hobi lets go.

"Breath hyung, it's just a few days, she'll be back by Friday."

"Yeah, Friday." Yoongi replies sullenly.

“She’s gonna be fine hyung.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, staring after you.

~-~

You fall asleep sometimes after the little roadside bakery. it was just as cute as Namjoon promised, with a pink interior and a whole bunch of different scones and muffins and cupcakes. A small purple box of them in the back of the car sloshes with the movement of the backcountry roads. a full belly of half-finished treats, blueberry scones, and coffee cake muffins, lulls you to sleep in the warm interior of the car.

Namjoon’s soft presence in the driver’s seat and his hand on your thigh does wonders to settle you from the fraught feeling that you’d had while leaving the house. Really, you don't know what you were so worried about.

Namjoon leans over when traffic’s paused, to wipe a tiny crumb from your cheek. Smiling softly. Is this how Hobi feels when he goes on drives with you? Namjoon can see why he likes it- watching your head lull, the soft sound of your breathing, and your sweet scent building and building in the contained interior of the car until Namjoon’s lungs ache with it.

You sleep almost the whole way, only waking when the sun is low in the sky and the scenery is starting to go all moss green and pretty. The country roads are not as maintained here- and the wheels of the lambo start to thud and bump over potholes and cracks. One particularly heavy thud makes you rouse.

“We’re almost there,” he says, and you sip from the water bottle and yawn, Your eyelashes feel so heavy. Gone is suburban sprawl and the lights from distant cities. You bob and weave through switchbacks and steep hills. The thick clouds cover the scenery like a blanket. Maybe it’s mist or steam?

It feels like you too are covered with something heavy and hazy.

The onsen is a tangle of buildings deep in a grove of tall pine trees. The forest is dark green and dotted with bright splotches of pink, the whole drive up to the front is lined with them. it's so pretty you press your cheek to the window. You’re not feeling any more awake by the time you roll up to the front of the onsen and Namjoon parks and tells you that you can stay inside while he checks in.

It’s a traditional style building with thick black tiled roofs and smooth polished wooden beams. Deep dark streams run from building to building, and a covered path crisscrosses back and forth. people walk past in white fluffy robes, clutching grey towels to their chests.

A child somewhere giggles, and your eyes flutter closed, leaning your cheek on the door, nose poked out the open window. You can feel the heat from here.

Namjoon gets your keys and your directions to your room from the kind elderly omega at the front. Your suite is at the edge of the property, secluded and far away from the communal baths that require bathing suits. But Namjoon booked this suite for a reason- because it’s private, you don’t need to separate by secondary gender at all.

You don't even need to wear your bathing suits if you don't want too.

It is far away from the main building though, by the time he pulls the car up to the front you have nodded off again, the warm air tickling your face. Hobi’s hat is discarded in your lap.

It’s really warm here, that must be why you fall asleep so easily, right?

You can feel the bob of Namjoon’s steps, his arms underneath you. The feeling of warm air billowing tickles your face. Your arms weakly wind around his neck, when Namjoon sets you on your feet and you teeter, still half asleep.

“Sorry pup, I just need to shut the door.” Namjoon steers you gently towards the bed and you blink, looking up at him, a little out of it. Yawning so wide and long that your jaw pops.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I can’t seem to wake up.”  

“You’re a little scent drunk- it’s okay.” Namjoon presses a glass of water into your hands and you look around your hotel room.

The smooth dark floor compliments the white walls and earth tones of the furniture. The onsen staff were nice enough to open the doors to your courtyard and warm sweet air rolls in along with the steam. From your bed (king-sized, but smaller than you’re used to since your bed at home is two king-sized smushed together) you can see out into the courtyard.

The wide room looks out over onto a courtyard, a deep inset pool on the floor with water that flows freely from one suite to the others- quartered off between units by high wooden fences. Great swathes of grasses and half a dozen tall weeping cherry trees rim the edge of your courtyard.

Grown in and gnarled. They have to have been here longer than you've been alive. Thick roots push up the soil and the grasses and the tiled edge of the pool on the far side. Long tendrils of pink flowers flutter, you have to stand up and go to the opening to get closer.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Namjoon offers, close behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to rest against his chest while you look out at the deep pool. The dark green tile camouflages the bottom and makes the pink petals stand out. Its calm surface dances with flower petals and steam. It’s probably chest-high on Namjoon at its deepest.

“It’s so peaceful,” you say, your voice hardly a whisper. Nothing beyond the gentle falling petals and your alpha’s breathing behind you disturbs it. Namjoon's thumbs rub up and down your elbows. His nose trails down the side of your throat.

“Apparently the hot water helps the cherry trees bloom a lot more vibrantly.”

“Do you think Hobi would plant us one of these if we asked him?”

“I think he’d do it the second you said you wanted it. Even if it was 3 in the morning, he’d start digging.”

You giggle and relax back into his touch.

They’re beautiful. You chose the perfect time of year because there’s still countless blossoms on the trees and yet big bunches have gathered on the outdoor patio, some even flutter inside falling like snow.

You squeal, and suddenly with more energy, Namjoon laughs as you pick up a big handful of petals and blow them in his face. "Oh no you don't- this is war!" He stoops, picks up his own handful and you go like that, throwing blossoms at each other like they're snowballs until you're both covered in pink. Giggling and clinging to each other. Namjoon picks one from your eyelashes.

"Wait! Yoongi wanted pictures." You send one to the group chat, your cheek smushed to Namjoon's cheek, both of you covered with tiny pink petals. Namjoon turns and kisses one off your cheek, and the resulting photo ends up becoming his home screen eventually.

“Want to put on our bathing suits?” You nod jauntily, starting to move in the direction of your suitcases to get them but Namjoon shakes his head. “Stay put, I’ll get them.” He pauses for a second, trailing his nose up the side of your throat again, eyebrows furrowed. your whole body goes shivery. He crosses the room to the suitcase while you hide your blush, turning away to watch the cherry blossoms flutter in another strong breeze.

But then there’s a crash and you look back.

Namjoon’s standing pink-cheeked. Looking down at the tangle of clothes and your suitcase upended on the floor. Looking from you to the pile and the rivers of pink and purple and pastel lace upended out onto the floor. The lingerie that Tae packed for you that Namjoon was definitely not supposed to see until they actually got on your body.

 You stoop to get them before he can, shoving them back inside. Cheeks aflame. “Tae- she- I don’t know why she-”

“It’s okay- ugh- uhm” Namjoon is so red you think he might be transmuting into a tomato. Namjoon swallows hard, picks up his swim trunks from the floor and you wheel your luggage into the bathroom, a strappy thong gets tangled in one of the wheels and you drag it with a loud squeak until it's inside.

You shut the door but the damage is already done. You let out a quiet embarrassed whine.

You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for a moment. Struggling with your fancy dress that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner, hanging it up with a huff so that it doesn't get any more wrinkles. shaking off your embarrassment. It's just Namjoon, he's seen you in your lingerie before.

You knew what you were agreeing to going on this vacation with Namjoon. A solo vacation just for the two of you sends a very very pointed message. This is a sexy vacation- a private suite and a private onsen only means one thing and now at the precipice of it you feel- you feel-

Namjoon nocks, but you tell him you need a minute trying not to sound scared.

You don’t even know why you feel scared; you’ve had sex with Namjoon before, and taking him is no longer quite as daunting of a task as it once was. But you feel unsettled. Out of your depth here. Intimacy and romance are so much harder without your pack around you to reassure you to egg you on.

You need to call Tae.

She picks up on the second ring, “Pup!” she sounds happy and bubbly even through the phone. You even hear a bit of relief in her voice. “I’m doing my nails upstairs because Jin and Jungkook are being loud; did you get to the hotel yet? How are the flowers?”

“Tae” you hiss, keeping your voice down. “Did you think I’d spend the whole weekend lounging in lingerie!? You didn’t even pack me a bathing suit!” You whine. Still pacing.

“Well, I was actually hoping you’d spend the whole weekend getting your lingerie torn off of you but-”

“Mommy” you whine, and she quiets.

“It’s at the bottom, the dark red one with the flowers.” You find it, if only because it’s a bright oxblood in the mess of pastels. It’s dotted with pale yellow flowers and crossing straps that are supposed to tie around the slimmest part of your waist several times. It’s very Tae. Strappy and sexy and so tiny. The triangles are so small, it might as well be lingerie too.

“Tae- this isn’t going to fit me.”

“Yes, it does” she quips. “I measured.” You flush. You’re sure she did actually measure, probably during one of your morning preening and grooming sessions that you have a habit of spending mostly in omegaspace, an eager puppet to her hands. The idea that you’d been so far down, so trusting that you didn’t even notice warms your blood.

But Tae chose this for you, your alpha chose this for you and your other alpha. Tae does often know best. She knows what Namjoon likes.

Your heart rate slows a little. but you don't let Tae off that easy. “Tae- this is just a mess of strings,” she giggles, and you know just from the sound of it that she did this on purpose.

“Come on, live a little.”

“I know but- but-” you sit on the toilet, and she hums.

You wait, sensing that she’s yet to speak. You can hear Namjoon in the other room, starting to pace. You swear you hear him talking too. The hushed grumble as he talks to someone over the phone to someone.

“I’m sorry, I should have packed you something more modest. I just thought you’d want to- I don’t know, tell me off if I'm wrong but- Don't you want to explore a little? You can have both. Being wanted and being treated delicately- it's not one or the other.”

Your breath hitches, and you wonder how she managed to hit it right on the head. You do feel delicate- you've felt delicate the whole day.

“You can wear skimpy clothes and Namjoon will just be happy he gets to look at you. He still won’t do anything unless you say you want him to. He’s well-behaved like that.”

“Mommy-”

“You love feeling cute, you love feeling wanted. Let him want you pup, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“You’re just saying that because you like to give Namjoon a hard time.”

“It’s a love language” that does get a giggle out of you. She sounds satisfied, her voice a purr, but she still apologizes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t, I just panicked in the moment.” You pause, and Tae doesn’t fill the space with chatter. “I feel so innocent around him, so- not like this. Not that it’s dirty to dress this way, just…” You trail off.

"The pack alpha loves you, he’s gonna think you’re stunning no matter what. You could walk out in nothing and he’d still probably ask before he looked at you.”

“I kinda want him to look at me,” You admit, confess. “I kinda like making him have to restrain himself.” You have no reason to be nervous.

Tae’s voice is a purr, “There’s my girl. What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl for the pack alpha?” Her voice is a dark purr.

“No mommy.”

"Perfect. Love you. Have fun. Make sure Namjoon gets a nosebleed.”

“Love you too, tae?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

~-~

Namjoon does what Tae expected when you open the door.

He’s standing by the edge of the bed looking at his phone, tapping away while you stand, waiting. “I ordered us food, I know it’s a little early but we’re so far away from town, I just thought-”

He looks up at you and promptly drops his phone. He tries to catch it but fails. Then he tries to lean down to grab it and smacks his head on the bed.

It’s soft, so he sort of bounces back up.   

He grips his forehead and you cover your giggle with your hand. “Sorry I shouldn’t be laughing, are you okay?”

“Totally fine. Yup. Totally- really good-“ and his mouth goes dry at the away of your hips walking over to him. Namjoon’s red all the way from his collar to his ears.

After a moment of just staring at you he tears off his shirt, over his head, quick. His hair is all fluffy and spikey when he comes out the other side.  “It’s like really hot in here, right? Not just me, right?"

You blink up at him. Your grin already teasing.

"That was not a pick-up line.” He tries to justify. Panicked.

“Sort of sounded like a pick-up line.”

Namjoon stares at your face, “I’m trying really hard not to look down. It’s taking like- all of my brain power.”

You put your arms behind your back, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet. “You can look if you want.”

Namjoon does look, eyes drifting from string to string, words tangling behind his bitten lips. You can hear the growl build in his throat. He crosses his arms, biting his fist in an effort not to say something stupid as you twirl and show him your bikini. When you look back, his knuckles bear the red imprints of his teeth. 

“Sorry, let me start again- you look great. Awesome- 5 stars, want to swim with you so hard- I mean bad!  I thought maybe I should order food, so I did that- order food. I know I should have asked you what you want to eat but I just got like- a lot of food instead. And I also door-dash candy because you like sweet stuff for dessert. but the main house sells buns until 8 pm- not that they could be better than your buns- I mean the red bean buns you make a home! Not your butt- I mean that’s really nice too. I mean- shit- I mean-”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

“I’ll stop talking yeah. Probably a good idea,” Namjoon leaves his phone on the floor, watching you, blinking like he doesn’t quite believe his eyes. Traceing the strings that cross your body. “Fucking hell-”

In a moment of bravery, you reach back and pull at the strings, and a sound dies in Namjoon’s throat as it falls off of you string by string. You keep eye contact with Namjoon the whole time. You watch him swallow hard, and it seems like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

You reach to the side of your hip and pull at those strings too and the rest falls to the floor.

Namjoon forcefully keeps his eyes on your face, But his eyes are dark and gentle, honey and vibrant with the force of his wanting, lips parting in an unsteady breath.

“Fuck”

You turn and walk into the pool, not looking back at him as you go. your heart thundering in your ears as you struggle not to trip or slip on the smooth decking and then grab onto the railing like a lifeline and lower yourself into the dark water.

The onsen water is clear and clean- warm almost to the point of being too hot and stinging your skin. But some part of you, the same part of you that had you turning belly down in the nest earlier, loves the warmth and wants to roll around in it. Easing in with a sigh, looking back at him, your hair tickling your shoulders wet.

You don’t speak, and neither does he as he walks to the edge of the decking, following you as if he’s in a trance.

Namjoon stands there for a moment. And then he stoops, pulls down his swimming trunks too, somehow manages not to trip over them while he steps out of them in the process. And you can’t stop your flickering eyes south.

You lean your cheek up against the smooth wood decking and look up at him.

He's almost all the way hard, your pulse quickens at the way his cock lies against his thigh, the way he twitches just a little under your gaze. you push back and float into the middle of the pool.

He follows you in and when he moves through the dark water in your direction you don’t move back. you let him scoop you up and pull your slick body against this. Both of you bare, both of you hidden beneath the dark water. He feels so good, hard and strong and familiar against your front. The last of your fear disappears the second Namjoon touches you and you remember.

For a second you think his hands are going to slide south to grab at your ass, your chest, or anywhere else- but he doesn't. Namjoon doesn't make to kiss you, he just holds you to his chest, hugging you bare. The same way he hugs you in the morning, at night when he gets home. You're nude, but instead of making to have you. For a second Namjoon just holds you.

Safe.

“You know, even though we’re nude we don’t need to- if you don’t-” he pauses and you watch Namjoon war with what this calls for too. A very sexy vacation usually means lots of filthy nasty sex but-

Namjoon’s pectorals in the water cause little ripples. You wind your arms around his neck pressing yourself closer. The water might be warm, but it's him you reach for and cling to in the water.

“Can we just stay here for a while? Just close like this?”

“Yeah,” His voice sounds so husky, so rough, his nose traces yours, but he doesn't lean in to kiss you. Just holding you is enough. There will be more than enough time for kisses later. “Yeah, I like the idea of that.”

Namjoon takes you to the deep end, still holding you up, past the point where your feet can touch the bottom. The warm water and his warm body around you feels so good. You can feel his hard cock pressed between you and your stomach (it’s kind of hard to ignore the literal third leg that Namjoon has) but there’s no rush to do anything about it as he holds you. No rush to abandon the quiet and the gently falling dusk.

The pink petals that dance on the surface of the hot water like stars dance upon the night sky. The steam rises up around you and water gathers on Namjoon’s lower lip.

Namjoon does not try and touch you, he doesn’t slide his hands down to your ass, he just pulls back to look at you and yet keeps you snug. Your nipples are hard, brush his skin, and you hiss, sensitive. He doesn’t need to say anything, doesn’t need to do anything but hold you in the water.

He sways on his tippy toes, and you kick your feet a little, he has a good hold on you but just barely, laughing softly. He meanders back to where it's shallow and he can hold you properly, an apology in his smile. You've got one hand around the back of his neck, your cheek resting against his chest listening to the rabbit hum of his heartbeat, your eyes drooping a little, eyelids heavy.

His hand pets through your hair, tangling at the nape of your neck. Cradling you close. “Thank you for coming all this way with me, I really wanted this, just-” His arms tighten around you, “Just this. Physical intimacy isn’t just sex and cuddling. This is perfect.”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice blocked out by the sound of his heartbeat- or is it yours that you can hear awfully loud? beating rapidly, thudding harder and harder.

It's weird, your heart is beating so fast but you still feel so tired. so tired you just might-

“I know I don’t say it often, but I- I really love you; I need to say it more often.” You want to say it back but your mouth is just so sluggish, so tired. Your arms start to go slack around his neck. “I love you so much pup.”

In the silence, the gurgle of the water grows louder and louder and louder.

“Pup?” Namjoon pulls away from you for a second to look at your face. Without your arms around his neck, you sink like a lead weight. The water slides past your mouth.

“Pup!”

~-~

(The pack, now)

In the wake of you and Namjoon leaving everything feels a little bit off kilter. A little bit not right.

No sooner has the car pulled out of the driveway and your scent has dissipated from the house than Jin is stifling his sniffles and excusing himself to the bathroom only to come back smelling soggy and hormonal and with red-rimmed eyes.

Yoongi casts worried glances in the direction of the driveway and Jimin and Jungkook come back from their run, with a huff and a giggle of thudding feet on the porch. Having nearly everyone home does little to settle or lighten the mood.

They come inside, sweaty and yet cold, scents sweetening until they don't. Hobi watches them realize, almost comically that the den is two packmates short. Jimin goes into Tae's library room and returns empty-handed. Jungkook looks from the couch to Jin's side, his smile falling. “Did they leave already?”

Jin covers his nose with his sleeve. Scowling in Jungkook's direction. “Yeah, about an hour ago.”

“Damn,” Jungkook pouts, “I really wanted to see them off.”

Jin turns back to his pancakes with a huff before Jimin can catch his eye.  Jimin moves close, but Jin sidesteps him so fluidly that Hobi could almost convince himself that it is just that- fluid and thoughtless.

But Hobi’s not sure. Something feels off. Jin’s scent is too sour, too disjointed like the sweetness and sourness are separate notes for it to be entirely incidental. Jin wrinkles his nose, eyes on the batter, whisking it smooth (he'd deemed the first batch non-palatable and started all over again, under the threat of tears), “Can you shower Jiminie? And would someone open the windows- it’s stifling in here.”

Jimin is a good alpha, just nods and looks Jin over. “Okay hyung, are you okay?”

“I’m fine Minnie just-“ Jin ignores Jimin’s puppy eyes and Jungkook’s and Tae’s (Yoongi still hasn’t torn his eyes off of the driveway) gesturing wildly with the whisk. “If you don’t all settle then you'll have to have breakfast on the table instead of the couch where I know you stinky little pups want to eat it. I’ll count to three. One”

That’s all it takes, and the three of them are leaping hand over hand to sit on the couch instead. Jin fluffs back, satisfied at being obeyed. Hobi stays close. Jimin scents over Tae’s shoulder and then heads upstairs.

“Let me help?” Hobi offers, and Jin nods, sidestepping him once again as Hobi reaches around him to turn on the electric griddle.

Hobi doesn’t play music while they cook for the sake of Saturday morning cartoons (they’re not cartoons- just the episode of the drama that Tae missed last night when she decided she’d rather retreat upstairs with you and Hobi instead of watching it with Jin. And it’s a Wednesday, not a Saturday) the familiar just-seen sounds do not lull Jin into a reverie, because Jin is not easily lulled this morning.

Something is wrong with Jin hyung, and he just won’t say what.

Instead of retreating to the couch to cuddle like Hobi can tell Jin needs, he just keeps cooking. Even though Hobi's usually the one who handles pancakes, makes them into nice hearts and stars and squiggles. Not the weird and lopsided ovals that Jin makes. Jin just can’t sit down or stop moving, can't stop the feeling like something bad will happen if he stops-

An animal claws at his chest, a feeling without a name, hungry and frightened. A wolf backed into a corner will bite and Jin feels claustrophobic- something pressing in around him from all sides.

Your scent and Jungkook’s scents are the only ones unoffensive for some reason (Yoongi's would be too- if he didn't smell so worried), maybe it's because you're among the lowest in the hierarchy. Hobi's is a little better- if only because he smells like soft alpha instead of heady strong alpha. Hobi’s caramel scent is mild. At ease.

For that reason alone, he's allowed to stay close. 

Something in Jin's chest purrs when he gets Jin a plate for the finished pancakes. What a good alpha, what a capable alpha. So thoughtful.

Pack Alpha chose well.

Pack alpha? Where is alpha? Abandoned? Alone? Pup? Where is pup? Stole pup. Bad alpha. Nest thief. Icky alphas shouldn't steal pups that don't belong to them. Need pup. Need nest, need pack alpha, need-

Jin breathes in for 5 and out for 9. Unsure why his instincts are making a rare appearance this morning, why he's feeling his inner omega chomping at the edges of his mind for a chance to get out.

He busies himself making more pancakes than any one pack could conceivably eat in one morning. No matter how many times Hobi and Tae ask him to just rest. To put the batter away for later, he just hums at them and moves on.

It’s like he’s worried he’ll lose his momentum if he sits. Standing in front of the sizzling griddle with a spatula in hand his pout ever-present. Making more and more pancakes even though almost everyone is full. Jimin comes back and takes a good stack. Jin almost purrs in satisfaction.

Jin hasn’t even eaten a single one.

Jungkook watches Jin from the kitchen island where he munches on his plate, not taking his eyes off of the other omega. Lips glossy from maple syrup.

The pancakes pile up high with no one to eat them and the hours drag on and on. Past the time when you and Namjoon should have arrived at the onsen. Jungkook’s cheeks are sticky and round with the bites. Jin says he’s not hungry, but the truth is his stomach is roiling with nausea.

Yoongi and Hobi cast glances at each other over his head, at least whenever Yoongi tares his focus away from the driveway.

Jin hyung might be inconsolable, but Yoongi's distress is a little more manageable. He steps close as they wash dishes, bumping elbows and trying to catch the beta's eye. “Want to go for a drive later hyung?”

If Hobi asked you he knows you’d be up and out the door without another word. But Yoongi is not you. Yoongi just glances, looking from Hobi to the front door nervously.

Something is definitely up.

After a moment Yoongi just shakes his head, and Hobi tries not to feel a little disappointed. “Sorry Daisy, just-” Something flickers across Yoongi’s face. He’s really bad at keeping secrets, Hobi doesn't know how he kept the whole mafia thing under wraps for so long. His concern for you is so palpable that Hobi almost wants to call you just to alleviate it.

(That wouldn't be right, the whole pack had agreed to leave your and Namjoon's time alone, to give you both space this weekend. It's okay. It's going to be okay; they'll survive.)

(This sucks, not having everyone togeather sucks, everything sucks.)

Maybe Hobi doesn't understand Yoongi's single-minded focus- not being mated and all. Does Yoongi feel your absence like a physical ache? Or is it more of a wound without any blood? What does it feel like- to have your soul-bonded partner so far away?

The beta hums, looking back out the window. Noodle is out there, in the middle of the cul-de-sac staring yoongi down through the kitchen window.

Yoongi flinches. "Jesus Christ that fucking cat-"

Hobi glances up and smiles. Noodle's tail goes up and he trots to the front door at the sight of Hobi in the window. Hobi snorts, "He's just like you waiting for her to come home."

“He is not like me, if I was a cat I'd be less fluffy. And probably black."

"Whatever you say hyung."

Jin snorts, getting in on it, acting normal for the first time in hours and Hobi wants to sag against the countertop in relief. "You'd have a rat tail. it would have like no hair."

"Would not"

"Would too-"

Jimin's footsteps thunder down the stairs. "I'd be a Calico!"

"You'd be a munchkin Minnie- not a calico."

"Can I be a Norwegian forest cat? The orange ones? They're so pretty!"

Tae prattles on about Warrior Cats, one of the first series that she ever read, and everyone lets her talk about the story because everyone is sort of hopelessly in love with Tae. As the only girl home right now- she deserves a little bit of indulging.

Jungkook stays silent, watching Jin. It's a little unnerving like Noodle watching Yoongi through the open window. Jin ignores him.

Hobi puts the bowl of pancake batter to the side. Reaching out to tangle his hand with Yoongi, kicking a hip against the counter. “You sure getting out of here might not help you for a little bit?” It's a weak offering even to Hobi's own ears. Yoongi tips his head to the TV.

"It's just getting good, maybe- maybe later?" Hobi hums in agreement, later he can handle. Later still means there might be more instead of outright rejection. 

On the screen, the K-drama villain has a predictable meltdown about a trivial work conflict. Tae sits with her legs folded under her at rapt attention.

There is a brush between her and Jimin on the couch. Hobi wishes he could capture the way that Jimin is looking at her and save it to show you. He's drinking in her little ohs and ahs like they're ambrosia as he combs her hair back and does her little French braids. Jimin has been practicing. Hobi watches as he delicately tucks her little baby hairs into the twist, not missing a single one.

Tae's bubblegum mouth widens at the love confession on screen. "I knew it! I knew he couldn't have secondary lead syndrome!" Jimin just huffs letting Tae shift moving with her before the braids have a chance to pull out of his hands.

"You were right" he agrees, "I shouldn't have been suspicious." Tae glances back at him, smiles in that told you so but I'm not going to say it way, and then turns back. Hobi smiles a little; he’s so down bad.

Jungkook sits at the kitchen island instead of the couch, alternating between watching the TV and watching Jin. Eyes bright with suspicion.

Jin flips each of the pancakes in quick secession, goes back to whipping up fresh batter, and then goes back to flipping so quick that it almost gives Hobi whiplash. Yoongi notices it too, goes over to Jin’s side trying to touch his elbow but is met with a short-tempered glare.

“Jinnie honey, I think you’ve made enough pancakes.”

Jin scoffs and continues, it doesn’t matter that it’s well into the afternoon now, that really- they could and should be making dinner at this point. The whole day has come and gone with the pack just like this, cooking pancakes and watching Jin like he’s a ticking time bomb.

“Just one more-” Yoongi sighs. Jin goes back to flipping the pancakes. Doing it with too much force, too much finesse.

Jin tries to flip one and misses. It lands batter-side down on the floor with a wet thwack.

Hobi, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jin all look at it for a second. And then Jin sort of predictably- sort of out of nowhere, bursts into tears.

“Hyung? Hyung, what’s up? Hey don’t-"

Jin scrubs at his eyes angrily, shaking his head and stopping Hobi from cupping his cheeks. Side-stepping Yoongi’s out-stretched hands, and slapping the entire metal bowl of pancake batter (still a quarter full) into the sink with a loud clang of dishes and ceramic. Maybe something breaks.

He waves off Hobi’s hands, big rivulets carving their way down his cheeks.

Jimin reaches to pause the drama. Getting up in about two seconds, detangling himself from Tae with a startled, “hyung?”

Jungkook huffs and everything feels dissonant. How is it that everything feels off with just you and Namjoon gone? Everyone is a little on edge. If Namjoon were here he’d just hug Jin and everything would be fine. If you were here- you’d bound up between both Hobi and Yoongi and make them go on a walk with you to see more flowers and it would be just that- easy and effortless.

This is not easy, and the effort is palpable. The way that Jin has to steady his breath and articulate his words. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine just-”

Jin shares a look with Yoongi and Yoongi looks away.

Now Hobi really feels left out, hands tightening, looking from one packmate to another, “what’s wrong? What aren’t you guys saying? Why are you crying?”

Jungkook’s lips smack together with the sound of syrup sticking to his plush lips. His fork scrapes dully against his plate and Hobi grits his teeth. 

“What?” he stresses.

Jungkook just shrugs and chews. “Yoongi's upset because he knew Y/n was in pre-heat but he let her leave anyway and now he's regretting it” The ice water feeling of shock settling over his whole body is enough that Hobi almost misses Jungkook’s next words. “-And Jin Hyung’s upset because he’s in pre-heat too and just doesn’t want to admit it. Because if he admits it then it means that his alpha left his nest with his pup and that makes him feel sad. He’s feeling sensitive so don't tease.”

Are you in pre-heat? Is this really happening? Hobi thinks back to how you’d looked when you’d left; How you’d looked cold just standing in the kitchen, looked a little ashen too- like you hadn’t been able to wake up all the way.

You hadn’t looked like you were going into pre-heat this morning- granted going into heat looks a little different on every omega but you were nothing like Jin is now; snappish, overstimulated, bratty. If anything, you’d just looked tired and a little cold. almost like…

Almost like your body was telling you to stay put. To stay and nest where it’s safe.

Only you hadn’t listened, and now you're three hours away from them with only one alpha instead of the many you'll need.

Hobi feels so many things in quick succession. One second shocked the next insecure and sort of disappointed in himself for not realizing it and being more attuned with his packmates. The next thing he feels is begrudging relief because Hobi's not being a bad packmate; none of them know just what your pre-heat looks like yet. They can all be forgiven for not noticing- Even Yoongi who despite the mating bond has never seen you in heat before.

There's also a possibility that they're wrong too- you could be going into a false heat, or you could just have been looking sick this morning. There is no real way to know without you here. If you actually are in heat, Namjoon will notice.

Jin is another story.

Jin's pre-heats never look like this.

Usually, he starts them feeling needy and over-tired. Sometimes his temperature drops because Jin's body is trying to force him to nest. the same way yours might have been this morning.

Then his body pushes him closer and closer to omegaspace. That's the first tip-off; because Jin doesn't need omegaspace the same way you or Jungkook do. Whereas you get almost babyish, sluggish, and tiny- Jin gets pouty and mothering like a broody hen.  It's the difference between pack-omegaspace and regular omegaspace.

Suddenly, the pile of pancakes makes a lot of sense. Jin isn't just making sure his own body is prepared for his heat, but the rest of theirs is too. His nestmates, his pups.

9 times out of 10 Namjoon knows before Jin does, tells him, warns him and the rest of them, and the pack has more time to prepare. Jungkook is a little more sporadic, rarely ever goes cold before he goes hot, just treads straight into a fever and omegaspace zoomies that slowly melts into a need to be bred full.

But when Hobi breathes deep he catches it- the faintest hint of cloying sweetness drawing them in. Breeding hormones are to an alpha like a moth is to a flame and Jin is only just starting to smell sweeter. He's so upset that Hobi can hardly make sense of the sweetness in the sourness of his scent.  

That's the thing about broody pack omega's- they go protective before they go sweet.

Jin goes from upset to angry quick enough to give the whole pack whiplash. Enough that Jimin has to get in between Yoongi and him with the way Jin lunges. Jin's teeth snap sending the rest of the reeling. Jimin is several heads shorter than Jin, and can’t contain him or the anger of an omega on a hormone high.     Jin's hiss is acidic as he grips Yoongi's shoulders around Jimin, “You let my pup go away, you let my pup go when she could be in heat? Have you lost your mind?”

For what it’s worth Yoongi does not flinch. He doesn’t even move away when Jin grabs him by his chubby cheeks. Jin looks like he hasn’t even absorbed the second part of Jungkook’s message.

“Namjoon’s clueless when it comes to heats! He’s an alpha- he’s not going to be able to help her nest or keep her safe or-” Jin pales, actually goes white as a sheet. Yoongi’s teeth worry at his lower lip.

“She wanted to go, she wanted to make her own choices and she said she wasn’t in pre so I trusted her.”

“She is a pup Yoongi!” Jin bares his teeth. Eyes wild, that picture of a pack omega whose nest has just been threatened. Whose pup has just been stolen.

“She deserves to decide what she wants to do for herself- if she wants to spend her heat with just Namjoon then we’ve got to respect that."

Jin doesn’t like it- how Yoongi’s talking back. He Likes what Yoongi's insinuating even less: that you wouldn’t want the pack to help you through your heat, that you do not need them.

But you do need them. You need them for everything like a pup would. To remind you to brush your hair and be safe and careful. You certainly need them to mind your pleasure and well-being like a garden. You need your pack omega. Yoongi is being stupid. He needs Jin to guide him too- Obviously.

Jin moves, dragging Yoongi over to the kitchen island. For what it's worth Yoongi doesn't fight him or tell him off. Looking just as shocked by the turn of events as they all are. Jin looks a little wild. Tae hides her laugh behind a hand.

It’s not often Jin takes the Hyungs over his lap for a spanking. Hobi just sighs from behind his ruffled apron when he realizes what's about to happen.

“In front of my pancakes hyung? Really?”

Jin holds Yoongi’s nape in between his fingers and bends him low over the counter before dispensing a volley of swats over his behind. they're not hard, Yoongi looks more shocked than scolded. More turned on than upset.

“My pup does not belong to Namjoon!” Yoongi does not push against Jin’s grip because even he can see this is what Jinnie needs. If Jin really is in pre-heat then this is like a balm to his emotions- friable and feeble. Jin doesn't tolerate feeling out of control and if doling out a punishment is what he needs to feel steady then the whole pack will get on their knees.

Jin’s almost teary when he says it “She should be with me- especially if she’s in pre-heat. She’s mine- not Namjoon’s- not yours- mine.”

Other omega’s serve a purpose during the pack omega’s heat; they're there to make sure the nest stays tended to, prepared for pups and alpha’s. Other omega’s are there to warm and fluff and cuddle between the spikes of heat when the need for a knot becomes a need for simple closeness. With scent and touch sensitivity heightened- a soft omega is the equivalent of a fresh breath of air.

(Even then, Jin’s anger at you for not being home is a little over the top. Especially given that out of all of them Yoongi has maybe the greatest incentive to want you home).

Jungkook knows this, he lets Jin have a few spanks, a dozen before he stands up, wipes his hands clean of sticky syrup, and reaches out to pinch Jin’s scent gland.

A whine shocks out of Jin’s throat and he clamps a hand over his mouth, blinking rapidly. The rest of the pack watches as the wild threatened look vanishes from Jin’s eyes and it’s like he’s lucid for a moment. He seems to realize what he’s doing looking down at the position he has Yoongi in. The beta’s flaming cheeks and shocked blinking. The vaguely amused look in Tae’s eyes, the gentle resignation and concern in Jungkook’s. He lets Yoongi go quickly, hands trembling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Yoongi gets up, pink-cheeked, and Jin backs away from all of them. “I didn’t mean to do that- I didn’t even want to do that.” He’s close to tears again.  It’s not the first time one of them got an impromptu spanking from the pack omega. But what is shocking is Jin’s guilt.

There is a certain level of dominance that they've all agreed to all consented to being a part of this pack. Jin didn't even hurt Yoongi, and he's not thinking clearly. Hobi doubts there's even red marks.

Jin just needs an outlet for his instincts.

Jungkook stalks towards him, determined, and the hair on the back of Jin’s neck stands up.

“I think it’s cute that you’re so worried about her when you’re so clearly in pre-heat too hyung. Don't ignore me.”

Jin nearly snaps his teeth with how quick he goes toe to toe with the youngest. The alpha’s do worse regularly when tensions are high, but still it’s so strange to see Jin act anything like aggressive- especially directed against the youngest and for hardly anything more than a cocky tone. Jin and Jungkook go toe to toe.

“I’m not ignoring you, you're just wrong. I’m not in pre-heat."

Jungkook just grins and reaches out to touch Jin’s chest. Cupping him where he knows he’s sensitive. Jin lets out a high-pitched keen and almost sags, would probably fall if Jungkook didn't catch him by the elbow. 

It makes every alpha in the room stand to attention. Sit up. Nervous. “Sensitive here, right? And you still want to say you’re not- when you’ve been snappy the whole day because you just want to nest and not be upright- when you just want what your alphas aren’t giving you- your omega’s and your knots.”

Jin bites his lips, covering his chest with his hands and stepping back. Looking a little stunned. “You’re in pre-heat hyung.”

The whole room is silent, but after a second, Hobi reaches for Jin’s phone on the counter. “I’m calling Namjoon.”

Jin’s hand wraps around Hobi’s wrist stopping him- his upper lip lifts in a near feral hiss.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

~-~

(You and namjoon)

You wrap the terry cloth robe around you more firmly, fighting back a blush as the manager of the onsen stands up from your side. If she were an alpha, things would be a lot different and you doubt that Namjoon would let her get at all close to you. But Namjoon doesn’t have any problem with letting her check you over, verifying that the water wasn’t too hot and that everything is fine.

Everything is far from fine.

There had to have been some reason for you to pass out no more than an hour ago. You didn’t just fall asleep- that much you know, after coming too to black spots in your vision and dizziness so complete you doubt you could stand without falling over right now. To Namjoon frantically calling your name and covering you with a towel.

Everything smells a little off too- a little dampened, you paw at your nose, wondering why you can’t seem to smell the omega- given she’s old. But you can’t smell Namjoon either. It’s a little distressing, not being able to smell your pack alpha. Your nose doesn’t feel stuffy.

Weird.

Namjoon checked you over too. You’d already sort of been coming around after he dragged your limp body out of the hot water, but he’d been a little startled. You’re kind of thankful that his frantic call had fucked up, that he’d accidentally called the front desk instead of 911 if only to spare yourself the embarrassment of a trip to the hospital and probably a trip home.  

You feel too sluggish for that- like everything is moving at 2x speed and your brain is on pause. Now, you rub at your nose and let Namjoon and the omega duke it out. “It was probably just the heat of the onsen. Young omegas tend to be a little more affected by sharp temperature changes.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, “she’s taken hot baths before.”

The elderly omega raises her eyebrow, “In magnesium-rich water?”

Namjoon deflates and admits “No” after a second. She stands from the bed and nods like her work is done. “it was in the pamphlet. I recommend you rest well tonight and then enjoy it in the morning, you’ve traveled far.” Namjoon holds your hand tight. His fingers pressed to your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his skin.

“The pamphlet?” The manager hunts it down, and after a second digs it out from under the bed, cast from the bed to the floor by the mishap with your suitcase. Leave it to Joonie to be so excited he didn’t look before he put it down. Properly scolded, Namjoon takes the pamphlet.

Namjoon says something to the old lady in the doorway, comes back inside with a few plastic shopping bags, and you remember the food. It must have been delivered sometime in the last hour, because it still looks and smells hot when he sets it on the side table.

Huh, your nose doesn't seem to have any problem smelling the food- just Namjoon. Weird.

Namjoon’s looking at you in a way that you’re familiar with. The same way he looks at Jungkook after his seizures. “Can you get me a shirt?” Namjoon gives you one of his, probably the one he’d planned on sleeping in. He watches as you pull it over your head, watches as it pools on your bare thigh.

It’s nighttime now, and the lights outside are mainly pointed up at the trees lighting them from below. You leave the large glass doors open, cautioning in some of the warm sweet-smelling air and a few cherry blossoms inside. They flutter and stick to the big puddles on the wooden floor. Puddles from you when Namjoon dragged you out of the water catch the light like silver.

Namjoon’s medical bag is already on the side. He must have gotten it from the car although you’re not sure when. You look at him and he tucks his chin looking a bit like a kicked puppy. The concern in his eyes makes you feel all warm in your stomach.

“Are you going to keep looking at me like that until you check me again?”

“Yes” you make a noise, and surrender yourself to him again, Namjoon moves- almost jaunty.

He checks your blood pressure again, the movement behind your eyes with a small flashlight, you follow his instructions like the good pup you are. Everything quiet except for the faint trickle of water outside and the low hum of his voice.

When Namjoon asks you to lean forward so that he can sneak a stethoscope onto your back and listen to your lungs and heart, you nose and nuzzle at his shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering. After a few moments, he makes to stand back but your arms tug him close, keep him that way, almost purring.

Now you know why you couldn’t smell him earlier- it’s because you weren’t close enough, now you’re under his thumb you can finally smell him again and he smells so musky. You drink him in, rubbing small circles with your nose.

"Pup" he stresses. You pay him no mind.

Namjoon smells good today. Really really good. you’re not sure what it is but- he smells richer, maybe not any different than usual- but almost like you can sense more. Pick up on every little thing, every pulse of his heartbeat makes his scent flutter out stronger like a ripple. Promising safety and protection. You really are going to start purring.

Namjoon stops you the second before you try to bite him.

You blink up at him, mouth open. His hand grips your cheeks and you close your mouth with a faint click. "Sorry- I don't know why I-" Namjoon bites his lip while you rub your eyes, he waits until you can quiet the purring in your throat. You search for the word, “purry? bitey?”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon’s still watching you like a hawk.

You blink slowly, eyelids heavy. You’re still really tired, really drowsy. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your heart rate is a little slow. I’m worried.”

“I’m fine Joonie.” He looks at your lips and then your eyes, “really.” You shake yourself awake a little. “Wanna eat so much food we get a food coma and then sleep it off?” It’s barely 6pm but it sounds like a good idea. Namjoon tosses his stethoscope into the chair in the corner of the room and sighs.

Luckily- someone else but Tae seems to have a hand in at least packing you one or two comfy sets of clothes. You’re mostly clean, too sleepy and dizzy to think about showering again. You dress deftly in your pj’s and Namjoon dresses with his and sets out the food you rest up against the bed, it’s not as good as your nest but still- the sheets are smooth and soft.

You wrinkle your nose, you can’t smell anyone but Namjoon, lifting your sleeve to your nose you breathe a deep breath and get a bit of Jin and Jungkook- that does more to settle you.

It’s been a long time since you’ve nested without either of them or their scents. You’re not sure you like it, you’re not sure you want to nest here.

Namjoon comes back with the rest of the food, but leaves it in a heap on the side table. There’s a lump in his throat and his scent sours. “I’m sorry this isn’t more fun.”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Joonie, and this is fun. I’m sorry I passed out.”

Your pack alpha shakes his head, “not your fault. We’ll just wait until you get a bit more rest. We can enjoy it tomorrow, right?” You nod, and shuffle over to the edge of the bed so you can kiss him. His pout turns into a smile against your mouth but it still feels like an apology.

“Even just lying here- pinging out on food is still gonna be fun.” Your tone turns to tease. “I mean I know we both through this was supposed to be like a romantic vacation rather than a vacation vacation but-"

Namjoon shakes his head, “I just want to spend time with you.”   

The two of you get fat and happy on dumplings and pork fried rice, the kind of salty bad American Chinese food that you and Namjoon are both familiar with, that you both like even if the rest of the pack doesn’t.

Over the next hour with the TV droning and the warm air wafting into the room- you talk about everything. Spilling peach rings and gummy bears and red vines onto the bedspread. Your feet against his shins, your legs over his lap.

You talk about everything- your childhoods, the fact that yoongi's really close to finishing renovations on the house, getting Noodle a sibling. All of it. That one time that Jimin and Hobi had a competition to see who could eat the most crab Rangoon's in a single sitting and almost vomited. Everything. Reclined back against the bed. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that you’re alright, that nothing is wrong.

But then you get up to brush your teeth.

Namjoon is just shutting the door and the outside lights, turning your room into a pocket of dim yellow light. half of the food put away in the mini fridge but the other half still out and open for grazing. Everything has started to feel cozy and sleepy again and maybe- maybe tomorrow when you wake up, you'll finally feel better.

You’re just rounding the corner into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when the cramping hits you.

“Ow ow ow what the fuck-”

You almost drop to your knees at the pain, crouching over, catching yourself on the doorway. curling over, anything to release the pressure, the horrible tenseness and unfamiliar pain in your stomach. You go white as a sheet and Namjoon looks so startled. Shouting your name and jumping over the bed, knocking over an open and nearly full container of fried pork rice plain onto the ground. Your toothbrush falls onto the hotel room floor.

“Pup! What’s wrong!? What’s-” Namjoon’s hands are on your shoulders and You’re still holding your stomach, blinking back the tears in your eyes and whimpering. Namjoon pries your fingers away from your stomach to see- but there’s nothing. Namjoon touches your stomach- and you keen.

Namjoon’s nostrils flare. And he picks you up from where you’re crumpled on the floor. It’s not so difficult for him, although he sets you down on the bed with less finesse.

The cramping lasts for a few more seconds. You’re panting by the time it dissipates. Namjoon makes it so so much better- rubbing a soothing hand up and down your spine, tucking his chin over the ball of your shoulder, and holding you. Ushering you as close to his chest and neck as he can. Something about your alpha being close makes all of this better- makes the cramps subside.

“It’s okay pup, it’s okay, I’ve got you, alphas got you.”

Namjoon’s muscles are shaking. He waits until the cramping stops and you're just breathing heavily. But then he sets you back gently against the bed. You’re dazed and dizzy where you lie. Whining in displeasure when Namjoon pulls away. Trying to guide your hands away from your stomach. shanking your head as he tries to get you to stop holding it.

“Let me see pup, let me see- Omega.”

Your body breaks out into full body shivers, hands going limp, you freeze and bear your throat so quick you don't even realize what you're doing. Head spinning. room spinning. Your Focus narrows down to Namjoon and his command, Namjoon and what he wants Namjoon and-

His eyebrows are knit together and he’s concentrating on something- thinking hard as he gently detangles your hands

Namjoon swallows, then leans down. Ducking in and sniffing at your stomach. Breathing deep. Nose brushing your naval.

He jerks back abruptly, eyes wide.

Namjoon bursts into action, crossing the room and going into the bathroom where he starts to shove your clothes into your suitcase. Everything from the crumpled lingerie that had tumbled out earlier, to his dirty clothes and bathing suit, everything shoved back inside with little care.

“Fuck- fuck-“

You sit up, hair ruffled, “Joonie?” Your dress for tomorrow night gets stuffed into the suitcase roughly, with little care for the delicate silk he can’t get it closed around the hanger.

“We’re going home.” Namjoon looks so stressed, you half wish you’d never driven all the way out here in the first place.

“What? Why-“

Namjoon’s phone is on the bed and buried in the sheets, but it starts to ring, its tone loud and shrill. Namjoon hesitates, looking at you and then at the phone. But it’s Hobi's contact, and you reach for it almost before he does.

“Hyung thank god-” someone's shouting in the background, it’s Tae even if Hobi's phone is calling. Namjoon put it on speaker but the overlap of loud voices makes the speaker on his phone crackle.

“Give me the phone- I can-” “No let her speak!” You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so bratty, Jungkook whines and it’s hard to tell exactly who hit the phone and Who exactly called. Their voices overlap, everyone is trying to speak at once. “Stop squirming-” "hurry up, Hobi can only distract him for so long."

Namjoon doesn’t need to raise his voice to get them to comply, just says “Guys!” in a slightly stern tone and they all fall silent.

“Something’s happening, I’m coming home- we- she’s-” Namjoon looks at you, and you get the sense that he knows something and he’s just not telling you.

“Oh, thank god” Yoongi sounds relived.

“Please hurry,” Jimin asks, but Jungkook comes over, snapping his reply.

“We need to tell him- Jin hyung-" There’s a sound of skin hitting skin, and muffled voices like someone just put their hand over Jungkook’s mouth.

Namjoon does not look away from the phone, hand tightening around it. “Wait what’s wrong? What’s going on with Jin?”

You perk up at the sound of his name. The pack omega? What possibly could be going on that they need to tell you about. “Omega?” You ask, and Namjoon almost hisses.

“Pup" The relief and tiredness is palpable in Jin's voice, he sounds substantially less stern when he hears your voice. "I’m fine, pup, just-” Silence again. You wish they’d face timed, that you could see their faces and they could see yours.

“We waited until we were sure and Jin hyung didn’t want to say anything because he didn’t want to ruin your vacation but- but-” Jungkook stutters and Jimin comes in behind him. At the sound of one of your alpha’s, you chirp. Slapping a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“Jin hyung is in heat.”

You hear a sound, something like a door opening, and Jin's stern tone comes through the line. "You better not be doing what I think you're doing. I told you I didn't want to tell them until tomorrow morning."  Jin sounds cross, sounds actually angry.

Namjoon looks down at you, gaze conflicted. “Fucking hell.”

“I know- I’m sorry, we waited until we were sure but he started feeling crampy a few minutes ago-”

You touch your own stomach, crampy. Huh that means-

"No, I'm not upset just-” 

You take the phone from Namjoon, “alpha.” Your keen is so breathy, you don’t know what tips Hobi off if it’s that or the breathlessness to your voice, the way you sound close to tears.

Leaving the den was a very very bad idea. Jimin falls silent on the other line, everyone is quiet for a moment, but then the phone explodes with the sound of arguing.

"I was right! I told you she was in heat hyung's- I told you so!"

"Jungkook, now is so not the time-"

"Ow!"

There's the sound of squabbling, someone pushing at someone else maybe. something hits the phone and it makes a muffled crackling sound. "Jinnie- no biting- hey- no- guys."

You and Namjoon look at the phone, and everyone is silent for a second before you lean over it. "Daddy?"

the sounds of a tussle cut off. “Pup” Jin sounds so sad over the line, not at all like he just bit someone. “Can you come home? I think I’m gonna go crazy if you’re not-”

“Yeah, Namjoon’s already packing.”

“Thank god,” Jin sounds close to tears, you’re dizzy, but not so dizzy and out of it that you don't grasp the gravity of the situation. not so dizzy that you can’t do what you need to. Jin sounds so so sad.

"I didn’t want it to be this way, I wanted your first heat with us to be just you- so I could take care of you, but it doesn't look like it's going to turn out that way.”

“Can you make me a nest Jinnie? A heat nest? I can’t, I don’t know how.”

“Yes.” Jin says, voice going husky. “Gonna make you the best heat nest, gonna be so cozy. Gonna be perfect.” He promises, and you smile. He’s already feeling hazy, you can tell.

You’re feeling hazy too. Cheek falling against the bed, trying to nuzzle into the phone. “Can’t wait, wanna nest with you-”  

“Shit.” “Jin don’t fall over- here-” you hear a thump, like someone’s guiding him to a chair.

Namjoon takes control of the situation. “I’ll let you know when we’re on the road.”

“No- don’t text and drive.”

“Love you, bye, see you in a bit.” Namjoon hangs up and heaves the suitcase up onto the bed to finish packing. You start to move, but he shoots you a look. “Stay here, I’ll carry you.”

“Joonie it’s just pre-heat, I can still walk-”

Namjoon shoves your clothes, your bikini, into the confines of the suitcase. Red strings tangle in his fingers. “Don’t care.”

“But-” Namjoon darts forward, looming over you and you have to fight the urge to tilt your head to the side and show your neck. Holding you by the chin a little roughly. It has the desired effect.

Your instincts preen, alpha's so good. Alpha's so strong, knows just how to handle you. Your heartbeat quickens, and Namjoon glowers. “I think if I don’t get you home right now, and back to the den I might go-” Namjoon hesitates, and you see it, how he trembles. How he gently guides you to sit back on the bed. And you recognize the stress in his voice.

An alpha and an omega outside of their den during a heat is a scary thing. Namjoon's instincts are so close to the surface. You hope you don't see anyone on your way out. If anyone looked at you too long you don't know what Namjoon might do. 

Namjoon will not go feral at the idea of his omega suffering through a heat outside of the Den. Namjoon will not go crazy. He will drive you back to the house at an appropriate speed, and you won’t go into heat on the way home because realistically you have at least another 24 hours before either of your heats hit fully.

Most pre-heats last anywhere from 24 to 48 hours, Jin’s are always a little longer because he's older.

Yours? He’s not so sure about.

Your eyelashes flutter and your scent spikes. He strokes reassuringly down your scent gland and you pant, you feel it all the way at the tips of your fingers, trembling. It's so good having Namjoon touch you there. You clench your thighs and whine as he pulls away. And you know that's as much as he can give you right now. To settle your instincts for the drive and to settle himself too.

This is the moment the pack has been waiting for. The moment they’ve carefully coached you towards with every meal and every bit of encouragement. In many ways- each courting gift was meant for this moment. Every blanket and pillow, every stuffed animal and matching pajama set was all for this; the moment you’d need every soft thing, every strong alpha you have at your fingertips.

They won’t fail you now. Namjoon won’t fail either of you.

“How long was your last pre-heat last pup?”

You blink, thinking back while he stoops to put on your socks, you are a little cold you realize, your body reallocating heat to your internal organs, leaving your extremities chilly and trembling. Contrary to popular belief- heats don’t always mean fever. Sometimes they mean you get so cold that you need other bodies to keep you warm.

You’re at that stage now, no wonder why the water earlier made you sleepy- complete and total warmth is what you need right now- what your body craves is a nest and your packmates. You can’t regulate your temperature on your own- you need the others to do it for you.

“It wasn’t quick, like- maybe 30 hours, granted I didn’t really realize I was going into heat so I’m not sure, I don’t-” Somehow, you don’t think this one will give you quite so much time to adjust. Namjoon soothes you with a finger running down the back of your neck, he won’t scruff you unless you need him to- worried that it will send you prematurely hurtling into heat.

They need to be careful- Namjoon needs to be careful. This is your first heat in a long long time and your body might behave unpredictably. They need to be careful not to bring it on too strong.

You need people who won't trigger you too quick, you need Jin and Jungkook and Yoongi.

You think it might come quick, with how intense all of this is feeling. Every step Namjoon takes away makes you anxious. Excites that prey part animal of you that knows you’ll be vulnerable for the next few days- probably the whole week.

Namjoon locks the door while he puts the suitcase in the car and then comes back for you. Taking no chances. “Namjoon,” you say, when he comes back into the hotel room. You gesture to the mess on the floor between your feet. The box of takeout that he upended on his race to get to you when you collapsed.

“What are we gonna do about the mess?"

~-~

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Notes:

this chapter ended up alot more sexual than i planned for it too. i know i promised fluff but- it is really sexual in nature and i'm only realizing that now.

i realize that in my head the actuall toilet part of the bathroom upstairs was in a seperate little room like- almost a half bath inside the bath? but i can change it just for this part because it's like- bily is my sandbox and i can play in it <3

i don't know why sertian parts of the omega x omega dynamic really really apeals to me like- almost more than the alpha x omega parts do sometimes.

its really soft and just a tiny easter egg- but when hobi talks about planting the magnolia tree- i need everyone to know that namjoon and jin's first daughter ends up being namged magnolia- or maggie for short, and she's a little carbon copy of namjoon and a total tom boy and ands up climbing it like, basically every day, it's like her chill spot <3

if we're getting down into the nitty gritty of what had happened in the hot tub scene between tae and hobi and the m/c i think hobi had been really really curious about the m/c's addictive slick but obviously- he's triggered by giving women oral sex from moonbyul so he's like- obviously nervous and doesn't want to like- actually have the m/c ride his face, tae tae knows this and probably spent all of that, scene feeding hobi little drops of the m/c's slick from her fingers, had probably made the m/c sit on the edge of the hot tub and bend back to show hobi how wet she gets and nose and nuzzle at her hole over her bathing suit before pulling it to the side and showing him that her pussy is so cute it's hardly scary. obviously hobi does not eat the m/c out but maybe tae can't resist.

i know there are alot of flash back's and little scenes in between the scene that's actually happening- i wonder if this is the way i should write them? do you guys like the part where they're talking about the free use? yoongi's flue? or should i have edited those parts out?

where it not for the m/cs heat- i think it would have taken yoongi and her until the following fall to be intimate again. it would have happened one day when she came in from her classes all cold and damp from october (is that a spoiler?) and he'd crumple and give it to her slow and warm.

tae and the m/c's scene in the bedroom was supposed to be alot more breif but i made it longer because i love mommy tae and i missed her<3

tae kissing over her panties is so???? feral and horny of her??? when will that be meeeee on both sides of it honestly? can you imagine having a cute little girlfriend that lets you dress them up???? the fantasy of having someone who wants you so much they just cuddle into you all the time??? tae is one lucky girl 😭

i worry that this chapter is going to be like the others where i delve too far into each little thing and the bigger picture of it all is lost by the end of it but! maybe i don't care- i want mommy tae so bad :(

i really really love that tae calls the rest of the pack "our boys" because really- they are tae and the m/c's boys like- thats so soft for her to call them that. how much do you think jimin would blush to be called "my little boyfriend" by tae??? i think he'd short circuit.

listen, i know that canonically bily takes place in boston but i just couldn't resist with the onsen- i know nothing like this exists on the east coast but still <3 i wanted to write it so i made it my own.

i really like how you kind of get a taste for the dynamic of everyone at home without namjoon and the m/c- like the moment when they're talking about what kind of cat they'd be if they where a cat is so cute and packy <3 i wish i had a pack like that.

broody jinnie broody jinnie brooody jinnie <3 i love love love describing him as a broody hen, because if you'd ever been around a broody hen you know they are so sweet! but protective!!! and fluffy! we have a hen thats broody right now and her name is wonton.

The m/c having cramps as apart of her pre-heat symptoms is because i was also having cramps while i was writing this part. as was the american chineese food part! cuz i was craving it <3

namjoon deserves some major kudos for this chapter because tell me why that boy suffers

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 25

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.2k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence, mentions of blood, panic attacks

Masterlist

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Trained in waking up early and pulling all-nighters because of filming, you were used to witnessing the sun rise. Usually, you didn’t pay it much attention. The sun rose every day and you had other more important things to do than watch it go through the same motions. You were rushing to leave, making coffee and answering texts on your phone or you were too tired to do anything other than go straight to bed and close the blinds.

You had forgotten how beautiful it was, how the quiet of the early morning glowed in soft orange. Only you and Seokjin were awake, snuggled up on the large white couch on the balcony on the main floor. Your feet were laying on his lap and his arm was wrapped around your waist.

You had woken up early, fading images of the red ballroom and empty eyes haunted your sleep as much as you tried to bury them during the day. Thankfully, Jimin hadn’t been there when you had woken up, drenched in sweat and grasping wildly at the sheets to remind yourself that you were at the Castle. That it had been more than a week since you had been in that ballroom.

It would go away. It had to. It was over. Nothing happened to you. You would get over it.

 You got up, stretched your sore muscles from all the walking the previous day and put on some music to take your mind off the long green dress and paddle numbers, and started your day. No one else was supposed to be awake so early in the morning but when you went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, Seokjin was already there, mixing pancake batter with a large wooden spoon. 

Putting your arms around him, you had watched him work until he sent you away, claiming that you were distracting him. It wasn’t your fault that his neck looked in desperate need of kissing and that your mouth had trailed downwards subconsciously. Since you weren’t wanted in the kitchen, you went outside to the balcony to savor the sharp air before the sun appeared on the horizon.

Seokjin joined you soon with two cups of coffee. “It feels like a mug of hot coffee would be more appropriate, but the weather’s too hot,” you had joked.

He had made your favorite iced coffee in the way too-expensive coffee machine you had purchased when you first got the house. Another one of your impulsive purchases. But it was worth it. It made some of the best coffee you had ever tasted. The only coffee above that was made by a small coffee shop nestled in a quiet alleyway in Paris. The perfect amount of milk and sugar, not too sweet and not too bitter. 

You were both a little tired from your little trip to the lake. A sweet kind of pull in your chest, not easily noticeable. You had returned as the sky grew darker and had ordered takeout for dinner, which you enjoyed spread around the garden. Surprisingly, almost everything in the baskets had been devoured during your time at the lake. Alice had been reluctant to leave but you had promised her that she was welcome to visit you again soon. She had hugged each of you tightly—even Yoongi, who didn’t seem to mind at all—and promised that she would be back to play more.

“She’s a little hurricane,” Seokjin said. He was glowing with the sunrise stroking his face. “She reminds me of you a little. Was that what you were like when you were little?”

“I was never that cute,” you joked. Your aunt would argue but while Alice was a hurricane, sweeping up everyone in her way and winning them over, you had been a nightmare, difficult to handle, not listening to anyone, and independent to a fault. “Or that social. I would like to believe that I contributed a little to the shaping of her personality but honestly, her parents are both amazing. They raised her really well and she was already incredible to begin with. She will become a much better person than me.”

He looked down at your legs resting on his lap. “That will be hard. You are probably the best person I know.” He shrugged as if what he said didn’t matter, as if it didn’t make flowers bloom in your chest.

You caressed his cheek, prompting him to look at you. “That might be a little worrying but thank you. You are one of the best people I know too. Shhhh,” you quieted down his protests. “If you can say that about me, I can say that about you.”

“I haven’t done anything special. Nothing like you. You-”

“Stop that.” You laid two fingers on his lips and he obediently stilled them under your touch. “First, you don’t have to do anything special. Who defines special either way? Some of the kindest, most loyal, amazing people I know show these qualities in small ways, that doesn’t make them any less special. Second, who says you didn’t do anything special? Who was there for Jungkook when he distanced himself from everyone else? Who cooks for us every day and takes care of us? Who is always trying to cheer us up when someone is feeling down? Who-?”

“Enough, enough,” he interrupted you, shaking his head. His human ear and cheeks were stark red at all the praise. “I know I’m amazing, that’s enough.”

You laughed and captured his lips in a kiss. Warmth, more comforting than what the sun could provide, filled your insides as you tangled your fingers in his soft hair. He opened his lips for you and you slowly explored the inside of his mouth. You had always enjoyed kissing but nothing compared to the kisses you had shared with your hybrids the past few months.

Lazy mornings were rare for you. There was always one reason or another to be running around the house in a hurry to leave or lock yourself in your office. You were hostage to an endless need to always be productive. That’s what mornings were for. Maybe you had been completely wrong because this one was one of the best mornings you had ever experienced.

Seokjin heard the footsteps on the stairs before you did, turning his head around to watch Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon climb up. You called for them and Jungkook and Jimin ran to you, squeezing themselves between you. Namjoon followed laughing and sat down next to Seokjin, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung appeared soon and Seokjin left to go plate the breakfast and bring it to the balcony. You didn’t eat on the balcony often, mostly because of the low table that made it a little uncomfortable, but no one wanted to move. Jungkook and Namjoon went with Seokjin inside to help but when you moved to do the same, Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist tightly and wouldn’t let you go.

“No, you are staying with me!” he exclaimed and proceeded to bury his face in your belly, purring.

Hoseok looked at you in amusement and you shrugged your shoulders, used to Jimin’s antics by now. The three of them took one of the other two couches while the five of you remained squeezed in one. Yoongi looked adorably rumpled from sleep, messy hair and heavy eyes, the stark opposite of Hoseok, who was wide awake and energetic as usual. Taehyung wasn’t the statue he was the first few days but he remained perfectly kept and quiet.

You filled your plate with three pancakes and your favorite toppings and dug in. The conversation returned to your trip to the lake.

“When can we go again?” Jungkook asked, chewing his pancakes with passion.

You cut another piece of your pancakes. “You can go whenever you want, it isn’t that far from the house.”

He pouted. “I meant all of us together.”

“That’s… a little harder,” you said. “I’m back at work next week and I have a full schedule. You can go together though. John and Alice could join you even if I’m not there.”

Jungkook’s bottom lip stuck out even further. “It isn’t the same without you.”

“If there is a day I finish work early, I might join you.” You could barely drag your feet back home most days after work and the trek to the lake would feel like hell, but you would try for them.

Namjoon seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “You are too tired after work for that. After working for so many hours we can’t expect you to trek down to the lake. You come back after the sun has set or just as it’s setting, it would be exhausting for you to walk for half an hour down to the lake in the dark and then in an hour or so walk back again.”

You wanted to protest but you knew he was right. Although your work wasn’t physically demanding, you spent long hours on your feet, instructing the actors and the crew and checking in with different departments. By the time you were home even dragging your feet to the garden for dinner was a struggle.

You reached for Jungkook’s hand, rubbing your thumb in circles to soothe him. “We’ll figure something out, yeah? If I take a day off–When I take a day off,” you corrected yourself, “we can do something fun. We could go to the lake or we could do something else. Los Angeles is full of places to visit and activities to try.”

Jungkook seemed to think about it for a few seconds before perking up and asking if you could visit a gallery he had seen on the internet. You were quick to agree as Jimin joined as well, asking you about all the places he wanted to visit. You had told them before that they were free to go out without you anywhere they liked, you had printed their papers just in case so they could have them in case the Hybrid Services asked any questions, but they had yet to step further than the Castle grounds and the forest alone. John could also accompany them but no one had taken you up to your offer.

As you were finishing breakfast your phone started ringing. One of the producers of Six of Crows was calling.

“Sorry, I have to take this one,” you said, answering the call.

You ended up having to go down to your office to look up some files on your computer. As the premiere date approached, you would be getting more calls like this. Post-production was finished by now and the movie was nearly ready to be shown on the big screen but there were still a few tiny details that needed fine-tuning.

Ending the call, you checked your emails since you were already in front of your computer. You would probably go to the studios later in the day to speak with a few members of your team on the Raven Cycle project. You wouldn’t stay long but it meant that you had to schedule your day around it. Your break hadn’t ended yet you were already overwhelmed with work. Your to-do list stretched on and on, seemingly endless.

Your back and neck were getting stiff because of all the sitting and lounging around. You should start doing some exercises again. During your break, you had only been to the gym once and it was only two floors down. You should get back into the habit but you were great at finding excuses not to go. You were too busy, too tired, too preoccupied.

There was a knock on the door. You looked at the time at the bottom right corner of your computer screen and realized it was four hours later.

“Come in,” you called. You rolled your neck and heard the little pops. You desperately needed some exercise. And a massage. And an improved posture probably.

Hoseok opened the door with his elbow as he carried a tray inside your office. “I come bearing gifts,” he said with a wide heart-shaped smile. It was like the room instantly brightened. If the sun was personified, it would be Hoseok.

“What have you brought me?” you asked, making space on your desk for the tray. You had to look through some of your old files and they covered most of the surface. You stacked them into piles quickly, to be organized properly at a later time.

“Jin made fruit salad and we have some leftover muffins from yesterday. Jungkook made the juice, it’s banana and cherry!”

The fruit salad was a mix of mango, strawberries, watermelon, blackberries, peaches, and berries. A vanilla muffin was next to it and a tall glass of juice. “Everything looks delicious. Thank you.”

You moved to grab the fork and winced when you pulled on your stiff muscles. Hoseok’s smile faded. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” you were quick to say. “I’ve just been sitting in this chair a lot these past few days and my back is complaining. Really, that’s on me.”

“I…” He hesitated for a moment. “I could give you a massage if you’d like. I’m not a professional but I… I used to give massages to my past owner often. He was an idol so he danced and performed a lot and I had learned from masseurs how to do it. I could do that for you if you liked.”

“You don’t have to. It’s just a stiff back, it’ll go away when I stop sitting all day.”

A massage sounded like heaven at that moment but you could do without it. Giving massages could be tiring and Hoseok didn’t have to do that just because you had bad posture and had stopped going regularly to the gym. If you really needed it, you could pay a masseur to come to your house. It seemed silly so you never did, but you could.

“I want to,” he said eagerly, his tail standing at attention. “I can make you feel better, I promise. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

You searched his face for any sign that he didn’t actually want to do it but you found nothing. “Okay, then. I would love a massage right now.”

“Yay! I will do my best,” Hoseok promised. “Let’s attack those muscle knots! Gently of course.” You giggled as he came to stand behind you. He pretended to crack his fingers before settling them on your shoulders. You were wearing a shirt with spaghetti straps and his hands were warm on your bare skin, which buzzed in anticipation. “Lean forward a little. Yeah, that’s perfect.”

He dug his fingers on either side of your neck and you had to bite your lip to stop a very embarrassing sound from slipping out. It sent a current through your whole body like you went numb to everything except the feeling of his hands on you. He kneaded your muscles, progressively adding more pressure. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing, losing some of the tension.

“That feels good,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I told you.” You could hear the satisfied smile on his face even though you kept your eyes closed.

One by one, your strings unraveled and your body felt lighter, as if you could float away if he pulled his hands away. He worked on the knots on the back of your neck and around it before he moved on to your shoulders and shoulder blades. You had received massages before–you had visited spas with friends on several occasions–but this felt different. You forgot about work and all the things you had to do, all the million little things that were hanging over your head, and for a moment you let yourself relax.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The forest was still, bracketed by the almost black of the night. There were no lights that Yoongi could see coming from inside, even though you said there were multiple holiday homes around the lake. The Castle stood alone, like a real castle guarding the forest.

Hoseok was humming along to a pop song that was playing on his phone, it was at a low volume so his humming was almost as loud as the music. It was late into the night, everyone in the house having already retreated to their rooms. Yoongi didn’t care much about the song, it was generic at best. The vocals weren’t great and the beat was the same beat that every song used this summer with a little tweaking. But Hoseok liked it so he didn’t say anything.

The fox hybrid was sprawled on his bed, his eyes half closed as he moved his head to the music. His silk nightshirt had ridden up to expose a sliver of smooth tanned skin and Yoongi’s eyes kept being drawn to it.

“Anything interesting out there?” Hoseok asked. Yoongi shrugged. “You have been standing there for half an hour. Don’t look at me like that, you have.”

He raised his eyebrows, doubting that it had been that long, but moved away from the balcony door, sitting down on his bed. “It’s the same every night.”

“And you still look every night.” Hoseok turned off the music and stretched. His shirt rode up higher.

Yoongi looked down at his hands. “It’s calming. There is something about the trees and the lake, being away from the city. It’s quiet.”

His ears picked up the soft shuffling before a weight dipped into the bed next to him. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Has it really been only five months since we’ve been here? Less than that? I can’t imagine living in the city again, too much noise.”

Yoongi had lived his whole life in cities, he was used to their noise and the way it never went away. The sound of cars and motorbikes, people talking and shouting. It was never quiet. Not the way it was out here.

He wanted to tell Hoseok that he would never have to live in the city again but he couldn’t. On one hand, your job could lead you anywhere and Yoongi had a feeling that wherever you went, they would follow you, just like Virginia. On the other hand, although some part of him insisted that this was permanent, that this life they had built here wouldn’t be taken from them, he knew that the world wasn’t so kind. Sometimes, he stayed up at night thinking about it while Hoseok dreamed. He gazed at the forest to remind himself that they were still here, in this small paradise on earth, and then contemplated all the ways this could end. His mind wasn’t kind to him on those nights.

“Virginia was like this too,” Hoseok continued. “I miss it a little. The countryside was pretty and the house too. Almost like a fairytale. Do you think we’ll go back again?”

Hoseok’s hand was fidgeting on his thigh and Yoongi grabbed it to still it. “Maybe. She will have to film another season after this one. If this show is as successful as they say, there will be a few more seasons to come. They built sets and everything there.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Hoseok scooted closer to him and laid his head on his shoulder, their hands intertwined. “Do you think she will rent the same house? I want to go back there. It felt like home.”

Yoongi refrained from telling him that wherever he was, it felt like home. It was something someone more expressive than Yoongi would say, instead he said, “We can ask her. I don’t think she’ll mind. If it isn’t booked at the time, we could stay there again.”

“I’ll recruit Jiminie, she can’t say no to him,” he said, nuzzling closer to Yoongi’s neck, almost scenting him.

“She can’t say no to any of you.”

Hoseok hummed, his breath warming Yoongi’s skin and the scent of cinnamon tickling his lungs. “She wouldn’t say no to you either. If you ever asked her for anything.”

Yoongi didn’t know what to think about that. If he believed it. Yoongi had been trying to do better, trying to be a better person than he had been at the beginning. He would hate himself if he ever put you through what he had before. He would be making it up to you for his whole life. He wasn’t the same as the other hybrids, the same courtesy shouldn’t be extended to him.

Hoseok’s lips brushed his neck, light as a feather, and Yoongi shivered at the touch. Scenting each other wasn’t something new, they had been doing that since they escaped the ring. Before that, they would brush their wrists together through the bars of their cages, longing for the small comfort of each other’s scent. After Yoongi had disappeared, Hoseok had been touching and scenting him more as if he was afraid that he would slip through his fingers.

Some nights, Hoseok would crawl into his bed in the middle of the night and cling on to him. “Stay,” Hoseok would say. He didn’t tell him what his nightmares were about, he didn’t have to.

Yoongi vowed to himself to never leave him again. He would bite, scratch, and kick his way to him if he ever had to.

He had a lot to regret about that first month. He hadn’t only hurt you, he had hurt everyone else too. His own nightmares persisted, leaving him clutching the sheets, with his back to Hoseok, staying deadly still so he wouldn’t wake him up. So no one would know that those days still haunted him even though he wasn’t the one who had suffered.

In some of his dreams, the hybrid ring got to him before you did and punished him for escaping, before stabbing an injection in his neck and hauling him to the ring for one last fight. In others, it was Hoseok that they took and those were worse. They found him when he was looking for him and Yoongi could do nothing to stop them, voiceless with his feet rooted to the floor.

In some rare ones, he never made it out of the house. Namjoon threw him against the wall and held him there, looking more like a vengeful god than the real Namjoon. His sharp teeth gleamed viciously as he sunk them into Yoongi’s neck, breaking the skin and ripping out everything that was keeping him alive.

Hoseok pulled back, his eyes searching Yoongi’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thinking.” Of course, Hoseok would notice his thoughts spiraling. Yoongi had mastered hiding all emotions from his face but Hoseok could see right through any masks he crafted.

“You looked a little lost there for a moment,” he said, drawing closer to him again. “You can talk to me, you know.” He spoke almost jokingly but he couldn’t hide the tendrils of hurt in his voice. “I know you like to keep some things to yourself… But I’m here for you. I would never judge you, I swear.”

Yoongi was a coward. After his talk with Jimin, he had been planning to tell him everything but he kept putting it off. It was never the right moment, it could wait.

“I know,” Yoongi said quietly, squeezing Hoseok’s hand. “I want to tell you. I think you deserve that after everything.”

Hoseok frowned. “It isn’t about what I deserve. I just want to know so I can help. So I can understand you better. Nothing you say can ever change the way I see you. Nothing. You were there for me when I thought my life was over, that everything was over. You saved me, Yoongi. I would have died in there if it hadn’t been for you. I would trust you with my life. But sometimes, when you don’t tell me things—important things—it makes me feel like you don’t trust me at all.”

Yoongi’s heart gave a terrible bang. “That isn’t true. I trust you. I trust you more than anyone. I trust you more than I trust myself. It’s just… It’s hard to tell you when I want to forget.”

“I understand,” Hoseok said, his gaze falling on their joined hands on Yoongi’s lap. “But I don’t think you can forget either way.”

“You’re right, I can’t. And I never will.” It was too big, too cruel. For worse or for better, it had changed who he was to his core. He was who he was because of what had happened to him and Jimin. He had met both Jimin and Hoseok because of that monster. “But I want you to know now.”

So he told him everything. He detached himself from his words and numbed his feelings, because he was afraid that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He started from the beginning, from his first owner to the terrible end. He couldn’t look at him as he spoke, focusing on their connected hands. Hoseok’s scent soured until Yoongi could barely recognize it. But he had to power on.

When he was finished, Hoseok shot up, wrapping his arms around him impossibly hard and buried his face in Yoongi’s neck. There was wetness brushing against his throat and Yoongi only hugged him tighter.

“I’m sorry.” Hoseok’s voice was breaking and Yoongi hated that he was the cause for it, even though it was better this way. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” He brought his wrist to Hoseok’s neck, gently scenting him. They both needed it. “You saved me too. You saved me, Hobi.”

And sleep claimed them like that, wrapped up in each other with dried tears on their cheeks.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Taehyung lay still in his bed, not making a sound. Phantom pains spread over his body, squeezing and squeezing until nothing was left of him. His head was loud but the sounds were muffled as if he was submerged underwater.

The room was illuminated by the soft light from the lamp next to his bed. He left it on every night. It was the same pattern, his nightmares not allowing him to rest more than a few hours at a time. There were new ones now. Ones of the red ballroom, the people in the chairs turning into monsters and dragging their claws all over his skin. You stood among them in your green dress, watching as it happened, your face empty.

Taehyung opened his eyes. He could see the forest from his room. He had never been to a forest before coming to the Castle, had never even seen one. It was majestic, the dark greens and browns, the way the branches reached towards the sky. Upwards and upwards.

He closed his eyes again. His tears had long dried when sleep swept him away again.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Your heartbeat rattled your chest as if being chased by an invisible force with no escape. You swallowed down the bitterness in your mouth and willed the sharp images of your nightmare away. They were so clear, the red curtains and the shiny floors. The taste of the expensive champagne and the hors d’ oeuvre on your tongue. Long dresses swayed at your vision's edge, silk, velvet, and satin. Steady hands held guns aimed at you, they went off with a terrible scream. You woke up.

You were awake. You were in your room in the Castle. You were safe.

You tried to calm down your erratic breathing. Jimin was sleeping next to you and the last thing you wanted was to wake him up in the middle of the night and worry him. Clenching your teeth, you silently counted each breath. Were your hands shaking? They felt like they were shaking.

One, two, three.

Slower. Try slower.

Did your hands stop shaking? You gripped the fabric of your nightgown.

One, two–

A sleepy voice calling your name disturbed the murky waters of your mind. “Are you okay?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was over. You were in Los Angeles. You were fine. Nothing had happened to you, no one had questioned you. You had gotten out. You were fine.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked. Your voice sounded weak even to your ears.

You heard the sheets rustle as Jimin moved closer. “Can I hug you?”

In the darkness of the room, you couldn’t see him well, only the shape of his body. “You don’t have to ask.”

“You are shaking.”

Were you? So it wasn’t just your hands. Another deep breath. Force your muscles to relax like the pieces of a machine.

“I am okay now, don’t worry. Come here.” You opened your arms and Jimin crawled into them, hugging your waist and laying his head on your collarbones. “Go back to sleep, kitten.”

Jimin shook his head. “Not if you don’t. What happened?”

“Just a bad dream, it was nothing.” The lies tasted bitter on your tongue. Were they lies though? It should be nothing, it shouldn’t be haunting you like that. Nothing had happened to you, you reminded yourself as if you repeated it enough times maybe the nightmares would go away. “I just need a few minutes to forget it.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Maybe that could be better than forgetting,” Jimin said.

But forgetting was the goal. Or at least getting rid of the nightmares that shouldn’t still be happening. It was over and you were okay. You were okay. There was no reason to worry Jimin, not when you weren’t the one who had suffered. You got dressed up, drank some champagne and made small talk. It wasn’t the end of the world.

“You don’t have to worry about this, it’ll go away on its own.” You run a hand up his back to comfort him. “My brain is just playing tricks on me.”

Jimin’s hand sought out your own and intertwined your fingers. He was quiet for a few moments before speaking, “Is this about the auction?”

You stilled. He couldn’t have known. You hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. And what right did you have to complain about it? You composed yourself. “How did you guess?”

“You have been… different since you came back. You have been lost in your head. I know you are tired and it’s hard with Taehyung now but you can talk to us if you want to. It must have been really scary.” He drew closer to you, gripping your hand tighter.

“I wasn’t alone. I had John there with me.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t scary,” he whispered. “We were scared for you. We thought– We trusted you but we were scared.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair and rubbed behind his cat ears which you knew would relax him. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay. Taehyung is here now.”

Regardless of how many nightmares you had and the tightening in your chest whenever you saw the color of blood. Regardless of the constant fear of being discovered that would never go away. You could never regret what you had done. Not for a moment. Just thinking of Taehyung in that man’s hands evaporated any doubts you had about your decision.

Jimin nosed softly at your collarbones. “We love you. It’s okay to be scared, you can share it with us. You can share it with me.”

“I’m not scared,” you said. It didn’t matter that it sounded like you were lying to yourself. “It’s over. It’s been more than a week since it happened. I’m the last person who should be having nightmares over it.”

“Why are you saying that? It must have been terrifying.”

You took a deep breath, the red bleeding into the darkness. “It was easy to blend in. It was like so many of the parties and galas I have attended. I was the guest of honor, no one suspected anything. I wasn’t the one–”

You cut yourself off before you uttered the words but both of you knew. Silence fell between you. You wished you could fall asleep again but sleep was so far away.

“Do you feel guilty?” he asked quietly.

“For what?” You were confused. Why would you feel guilty? You had done your best, probably more than anyone in their right mind would do.

Jimin gave a small shrug, bringing your joined hands to your chest. “You just sounded like it. Like you felt guilty for having nightmares about it. You don’t have to be. You are here and you are okay but– But you could have not been.” There was fear in his voice and it hurt.

You held him closer and squeezed his hand. You were there now and you wouldn’t be going anywhere. His breath warmed your bare skin. You weren’t alone anymore, you had seven people to think about when you made decisions. You had a home and you would fight to get back to it every time.

“Let’s go to sleep, kitten. We’ll dream better together.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

After your short break, your return to work was uneventful. A few more days would have been nice but time was moving fast and there were a lot of things to do. On your first day back, before you had left the house Jimin and Jungkook got teary-eyed saying goodbye to you. Going back to work was hard for you too after being used to staying at home with them, but you would fall into your usual routine soon enough.

Your work was a big part of who you were, returning to the studios was like returning home in a way. The cast and the crew greeted you warmly with hugs and pats on the back. Will handed you a pack of papers and you made your way together to the reading room. You would be doing a few read-throughs to get the actors familiar with the characters again and work through a few knots in the script.

It was the same way it had been, waking up at the crack of dawn and returning when the sun was descending in the sky. The hybrids clung to you in any way they could while you were home. At breakfast and dinner, there was always someone touching you, Jimin sitting on your lap or Namjoon holding your hand or Jungkook hugging you from behind. They missed you and you missed them too but there was little you could do.

In the quiet of the night when most of the hybrids had retired, you asked Hoseok how Taehyung was adjusting. The answer was always the same. Hopeful but disappointing as well—guilt ate at you for feeling disappointed when you knew Taehyung was doing his best.

The story of the Raven Boys unraveled during the days and the nights. Your copy of the script was overflowing with red ink, underlined lines, and writing in the margins. It was shaping up to become everything you had envisioned and more. And you were happy. But you also missed spending more than a few hours at the Castle.

You could invite them to join you for filming and spend a little more time with them. However, you had a one-track mind while you were working and you couldn’t provide the attention they deserved. Often, you got too lost in your work. You could feel it now, clouding your mind and blending the days into a string of numbered scenes and takes.

It was a blessing that one week into filming, you finished early, just a couple of hours after lunch, and instead of staying and obsessing over the smallest details like you were prone to doing, you packed your backpack and returned home. John drove you back with instructions to relax and not think about work until the next morning. You didn’t mind listening to him.

“I’m home,” you shouted after opening the door. Due to their sensitive hearing any hybrid on the top two floors would hear the door opening, you liked to let them know it was you so they wouldn’t worry. You had wanted to surprise them so you hadn’t texted that you were coming back.

Jimin and Hoseok were the first ones to rush to the living room. Jimin fell into your arms with practiced ease and buried his face in your neck.

“Surprise,” you said, ruffling his blond hair.

He purred in contentment. Hoseok also joined the hug, his fluffy tail wrapping around your legs.

“Are you staying?” Jimin asked, his eyes shining with hope.

“I am. We finished early today so I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

Jimin cheered and held onto your hand, following you into the kitchen where you poured yourself a glass of homemade lemonade from the fridge. A book and a few notebooks were spread over the kitchen island and you took a closer look at them. You recognized the textbook as one you had bought a few years ago during your first visit to Seoul for the press tour of one of your Oscar-winning films. You had read through the first few pages on the plane back to LA and when you had arrived you had placed it on the shelf that housed all your language-learning books and never picked it up again.

“Are you learning Korean?” you asked Jimin, scanning the awkward handwritten Korean letters in the pages of the notebook.

Flustered, Jimin didn’t look at you as he replied, “Hoseok is helping me. I thought I could communicate better with Taehyung if I knew a bit of Korean but it’s really hard.”

“He’s doing really well though,” Hoseok interjected with pride. “He is getting good at reading Hangul and he knows a few basic phrases too. He is learning very quickly.”

Jimin shrugged, his cheeks getting adorably rosy. “I have a great teacher.”

Hoseok cooed at the younger hybrid while you flipped through the pages of the textbook. You recognized your handwriting on the first few, you had written down a few questions you had so you could look them up later, which didn’t happen. Now, the answers were written underneath your questions in blue ink. The next pages were marked in both Jimin’s and Hoseok’s handwriting, there were notes in the margins and between lines and little doodles of flowers and butterflies.

Footsteps climbing up the stairs prompted you to let go of the notebook. Jungkook came running through the kitchen door and threw himself at you, nuzzling into your neck. You planted your feet on the ground and caught him just in time before you both went flying back.

“You’re back,” he whispered. He was bouncing on his feet, his excitement contagious.

“We finished early so I packed everything up and rushed back,” you said. “Has it been that long since I was back at a normal hour?”

Jungkook nodded resolutely and you couldn’t help but giggle. The truth was that it was the first time you were finishing early since filming had started again. The first week back was the busiest since you had to review everything, redraw most of the plans, check in with every department, and generally when you weren’t actively filming you spent them running around the studios like a headless chicken.

You should get a day off as soon as you could. For a workaholic, you missed being at home with them too much.

Namjoon and Seokjin were the next ones to appear at the kitchen door. Jungkook still hadn’t let go of you so they were content to leave twin kisses on your cheeks while teasing the bunny hybrid.

“Is Yoongi with Taehyung?” you asked, noting the absence of the two hybrids.

“They are in the garden,” Namjoon said, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Yoongi has been lounging in the sunlight since we finished lunch.”

“He’s starting to gain some color, he looks less like a ghost these days,” Seokjin joked. “Sometimes I think he is more cat than Jimin is.”

You laughed with them before your attention was drawn back to the textbook. It was hard learning a new language, you knew that very well. It could take years to reach a decent level depending on your dedication and the language itself. You remembered Alice suggesting you should learn Korean to communicate better with Taehyung. Jimin was doing just that without anyone asking him to and by the handwriting on a good chunk of the textbook, he had been doing it for some time.

Namjoon also took an interest in the textbook but he already seemed to know that Jimin had been studying the language.

“I would like to learn to,” he said. “I didn’t have to chance to learn another language in the past and it would be beneficial if we could communicate with Taehyung in his mother tongue. Maybe it would get him to open up more.”

Seokjin nodded. “I think it’s a good idea. I would like to learn a bit of Korean too.”

“I could teach you a few things,” Hoseok offered. “But I’m not a teacher, I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time. I can teach you a few words or phrases but”, he glanced at Jimin with a guilty look, “we are having some trouble with grammar.”

“That makes sense,” you reassured him. “It is very different speaking a language, especially when it’s your mother tongue, and teaching it to someone else. That’s why there are university courses for it. It’s a difficult job. But if you really want to learn Korean, I could find you a teacher who specializes in it. That way Hobi would have less on his plate as well.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Really? Can you do that?”

“Of course, I can,” you said. “I can find the best Korean teacher in Los Angeles and I can ask them to come here so you won’t have to go to the city. I’ll have to provide transportation of course. How does that sound?”

“Amazing,” Jimin cheered and hugged you again. “Thank you, thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

The least because you couldn’t do the same. You didn’t have the time or the energy to learn another language when most of your day was taken up by your work. During the days you were at the studios and at nights often you had to retire to your office to answer emails and revise scripts before going to sleep. The best you could manage would be to learn a few basic phrases but that wouldn’t be helping anyone.

The arrangements for the teacher were easy. You didn’t have to look long on the internet and after a few calls you had found the perfect candidate who was more than happy to make the trip to the Castle three times a week and stay for three hours to teach the hybrids. You added a very generous bonus for her trouble.

Before finalizing the contract, you talked with Hoseok about an idea you had.

“She could help Taehyung with his English as well. A couple of hours a week could help a lot,” you suggested.

Hoseok was on washing duty after dinner and Taehyung had gone to his room for the night so it was the perfect opportunity to talk to him about this.

“It’s a great idea, if he wants to. I do my best but… I don’t think I’m helping on this,” Hoseok said, scrubbing a plate with the sponge. Foam was everywhere.

You rubbed his arm soothingly. “You’re doing amazing. Much better than I could have hoped for. But I know it’s hard for you and I wish there was a way to help you. I’m sorry I can’t do much.”

Hoseok shrugged, bubbles rising above the dishes. “You are doing the best you can, given the situation. You have already done more than anyone would have expected of you.”

Laughter floated in from the living room. You smiled through your exhaustion.

“Ask Taehyung about the teacher, okay? And tell him it’s your idea, not mine. I don’t want him to accept because I am the one asking.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Jimin ran down the stairs, laughing wildly. Energy coursed through his veins and urgency pushed his legs to run faster and faster. He felt like a nymph in Land of the Gods, running through their trees, their hair flowing like an enchantment and laughing and laughing. He didn’t look at his pursuer, he knew who he was and it only filled him with delight.

The rooms blurred as he passed by, never losing his footing. He emerged in the garden and the sun kissed his skin, the fire inside him burning hotter in the heat. The green stretched around him and for a moment, he got the crazy desire to go into the forest and get lost there, underneath the shade of the tall trees. He wanted to dance and drink and eat juicy fruits between the trees like the fae in the stories you told them yesterday night.

Maybe one day.

Instead, he rushed to the stairs that led down to their room. The footsteps behind him were getting closer and he pushed himself to go faster, flying down the stairs.

There was nowhere else to go now and he paused in front of their bed. It was enough time for two hands to wrap around his waist and tackle him on the mattress. He resisted a little, just for show, before wrapping his own arms around broad shoulders and laughing some more. He felt like a child, in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

“You can’t escape from me,” Jungkook said, hovering above him.

“I didn’t try,” Jimin replied, running his hands over his shoulders and up the sides of his neck. “Bunnies are supposed to be fast, aren’t they? But you only caught me when I had nowhere else to go.”

Jungkook leaned into his touch. “I would have caught you anyway. You couldn’t run forever. Now you’re mine.”

He lowered himself until their bodies were merged together. He sniffed at Jimin’s neck, taking in his scent like he had done so many times, before rubbing his nose and his cheek over his scent gland. Jimin couldn’t stop the purrs that escaped him as his body melted. His hands tangled in Jungkook’s hair, who made an appreciative sound.

The scent of pears and gardenias was everywhere, it was deliciously overwhelming. He could almost taste the sweetness and tanginess of the pears on his tongue.

He tugged on Jungkook’s hair before he could lose his mind. “My turn.”

Jungkook arched his neck back to allow Jimin to scent him. He quickly found his scent gland and buried his face there. He closed his eyes and a garden bloomed behind his eyelids.

Jungkook’s scent was so sweet and it was mouth-watering combined with the pack’s scents. He could smell his own scent there and Namjoon’s scent of summer rain and pine trees was enveloping everything. The aroma of honey buns and sweet milk glazed over them like sugar and notes of cinnamon and sandalwood pushed through. If he looked for it, he could detect your scent, naturally fainter than hybrids’. Greedily, he searched for two more scents but he could only get the impression of dark chocolate. He might have imagined it.

“I’m happy,” Jmin whispered like it was a secret. There was the irrational fear that if he said it any louder, he would tempt fate to take it back.

“I’m happy too,” Jungkook said, laying his head on Jimin’s chest.

Jimin tangled his hands in his hair and massaged his scalp, he was rewarded with a pleased sigh. “It’s like everything has finally fallen into place. I’m not sad anymore. I didn’t realize how sad I was until I wasn’t. Even when I was happy, I was sad too. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to.” Jungkook caught his hand in his and brought it to his mouth, placing kisses on the back of it. Jimin’s heart fluttered with the wings of thousands of butterflies. “All that matters to me is that you aren’t anymore. I only want you to be happy. I know it isn’t possible to be happy all the time but I want us all to be happy. Together and happy.”

“Together and happy,” Jimin repeated quietly.

Every time he was was with Jungkook like that, his mind strayed. It went to all the possibilities, all the could-have-beens and the what-ifs. What would have happened if Jimin wasn’t a coward, if he hadn’t run away? If he had told you what had happened before, would he have been braver? Did Jungkook feel the same after everything that happened? Did he still want to kiss him?

His bunny was so beautiful, his soft dark brown ears that flopped against his hair, his cute nose and large eyes that held the galaxy inside them. Everything about him was beautiful and Jimin loved him so much he could burst. He wasn’t sure if it was right to love him like this, to want to kiss him and hold him like lovers did but he trusted you when you said that it was okay.

Lost in his thoughts, he tugged lightly on Jungkook’s hair, who let out a sound that lit a fire inside him. It was a moan, Jungkook had moaned.

His cheeks growing red, he looked at Jimin like a deer caught in headlines. “I’m sorry! I didn’t- I shouldn’t-”

“Jungkookie, it’s okay.”

“No, no. I’m sorry,” he continued quickly. “I don’t know why I did that. I’m-”

“Jungkook,” Jimin said more firmly. “It’s okay. Really. I didn’t mind. You… sounded good.”

“Good?” Jungkook asked confused. And his eyes, how could his eyes hold so many stars inside them?

Slowly, Jimin tugged at his hair again. “Yeah, good. I liked it.”

“Oh.”

They looked at each other and the world faded around them. There was only them, them and the heat brewing between them.

“Do you-” Jimin looked away. He couldn’t just ask him like that. But what else could he say? “I love you, I love you so much. I never want you to forget. Anything that may happen, I’ll still love you.”

“I love you too, you know I do. You are my Jiminie. I would do anything for you.” He bit his bottom lip and Jimin wished he was the one doing it instead. “Did something happen?”

“No, I just wanted you to know,” he said, cupping Jungkook’s face. His skin was the highest quality of silk and satin under his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m so difficult, so… scarred.”

Jungkook’s hand covered his and his gaze was unyielding, it didn’t allow him to look away. “Never apologize for that. Never. You aren’t difficult, you are incredible. You are strong, stronger than I could ever hope to be. Your scars don’t define you. I met you with your scars and I love you with them all the same. I don’t care if I have to be a little more careful or if I have to hold you a little closer sometimes. Just being close to you is all I need.”

There was a stinging behind Jimin’s eyes. “My baby,” he said like a prayer. An invisible thread pulled him closer to Jungkook until only a breath separated them. “Can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me?”

Jimin hated the doubt and the fear in his voice, he grieved that he had been the one to put it there. “I want to, I promise. It’s okay, I talked with Y/N. I’ve been so stupid. I want to kiss you so much, baby.”

“Please. Please, kiss me,” he said, voice breaking.

Their lips came together softly. There was no rush, no harshness, only love and patience. He was warm, warmer than he had ever felt. He was safe in Jungkook’s arms, hidden away in the Castle, in their home. Sweetness coated his lips. He might not deserve this, might be too broken for this but he never wanted to let go.

Two tears rolled down his cheeks. Catharsis.

Jungkook pulled back in panicked haste. “Did I hurt you? Did-”

Jimin let his tears run their course down to his neck in favor of cupping Jungkook’s face. “You could never hurt me. They’re happy tears. I’m very happy.”

The tension in Jungkook’s face eased and Jimin pulled him closer again. As he kissed him, he tasted love and freedom. He tasted of healing.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The grand piano stood by the glass wall in the living room, polished until the black surface reflected the light like a mirror. It was a thing of beauty, a gem dipped in luxury to decorate a rich household. For Yoongi, it was so much more.

It was a few hours until you would be back home and the sun was setting behind the forest. The lights were off in the living room and it was painted in the red, gold and pink of the sunset. You would be back later than usual, the filming schedule was packed for the day and after that was done you would visit the headquarters of the production company. You had told them to eat dinner without you.

Yoongi’s fingers flew over the black and white keys. He closed his eyes and focused on the music. Each note was a bright light in the darkness behind his eyelids. It was easy to get lost in the music, in the feelings it evoked and in the pictures it weaved.

He heard it when Taehyung arrived. He didn’t speak, gave him space to go away if he wanted or simply listen in silence. The melody grew more tender.

Taehyung didn’t go away, he drew closer. He hesitated before sitting on the bench next to him, leaving a small space between them. The song blended into the next one and the next one until the familiar stiffness spread over Yoongi’s fingers and he stopped.

Outside, the reds and golds had turned into purples and deep blues. Yoongi would have to turn on the lights soon.

“Do you want to try?” Yoongi asked when the silence stretched and Taehyung didn’t seem to find the words he was looking for.

Taehyung looked at the piano in quiet wonder. “Can I?”

He was so young and it made Yoongi furious that some bastards had carved the innocence and joy out of him. He wanted to find the monsters who had done this to him and tear them apart limb by limb.

His long fingers hovered over the keys. “How?”

“Just do whatever feels right.”

Taehyung pressed the keys one by one at first, the faint lines of a smile appearing on his face at every new sound. Progressively he got braver, pressing keys together and creating disjointed melodies.

“Together?” Taehyung asked shyly.

Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

[btschooseafic]

BTS Comforting You

For anyone who’s had a bad day recently.

~~~

Seokjin

“Jin?” You called out as you stepped through the door. You slipped off your shoes.

“I’m in here!” Jin called back. You padded into the kitchen in your socks.

“Sorry, I’m late...” You froze, staring at the takeout containers on the table. “What’d you get?” You peeled back the lid to one. “Jin,” you choked out, starting to tear up. It was soup from your favorite restaurant.

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Why don’t you take a shower and change and I’ll heat this up.”

You cried in the shower, letting the water wash away all of the evidence. When you stepped into your room, you saw your comfiest, most worn out pair of pajamas laid out on the bed.

Jin had set the food up in the living room on the coffee table. He ushered you over to the couch, laying a blanket over your shoulders and placing his favorite plushie on your lap.

Then he sat down beside you, queuing up your favorite TV show, even though he’d complained just yesterday that you’d watched it too many times.

“I never said such a thing!” He denied, when you pointed it out.

You just laughed, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

~~~

Yoongi

Yoongi rushed into the kitchen when he smelled smoke.

“Is everything okay?”

“No,” you said tearfully, explaining how you’d burnt the cookies you had been trying to make for your cousin’s birthday.

He looked at the smoking black lumps on the tray.

"...These were supposed to be cookies? Are they charcoal cookies?”

“Yoongi!”

He held his hands up in surrender.

“Let’s go over the recipe together, figure out what went wrong,” he suggested. You frowned.

“But didn’t you have plans today?”

He shrugged. “Plans change. Where’s that recipe?”

“...If you’re sure.” You pulled it up on your phone.

“Well...” You poked at one of the cookies. “They look okay. But do they taste good?”

“Only one way to find out.” Yoongi snatched one out of the tray and plopped it into his mouth.

“Ah, wait!”

“Hot! Hot!” He fanned his face. You rolled your eyes, smiling a little fondly. He chewed. “It’s not bad, though.”

You perked up. “...Yeah?”

"I promise I’d tell you if they weren’t.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He took your hand in his, pressing a little kiss to your knuckles. “I’m proud of you.”

Your face heated up. “You helped.”

“But you did most of it.”

“But you helped!”

“...Fine. Then we both did a great job.”

You laughed. “Fine.”

He wasn’t able to come to your cousin’s birthday party with you, but you got a text from him while you were there, telling you the cookies really did turn out great, and if your cousin doesn’t like them she’s stupid and he’ll eat them all.

~~~

Hoseok

“Hey, babe, have you seen the--” He cut off as he stepped into the room. You were standing in just your underwear, glaring at the bed, which was covered in what looked like your entire wardrobe. “...Not that I mind the view, but what’s going on in here?”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to him. “You’re joking. I look awful.”

“What?” He frowned. “No.”

“I do.” You shook your head. “Nothing looks good tonight.” You gestured at the bed. “So the problem’s gotta be me. I just shouldn’t go.”

“Well, you don’t have to go, if you don’t want to, but you have been looking forward to it for a while,” he reminded you. You sighed. That was true. It was hard to get all of your friends together for a night out. “Why don’t I help out?”

He helped you look through your clothes, putting together something that he insisted accentuated your best figures, and, truthfully, you felt pretty confident in it.

By the time you left the house, he was covering you in kisses, saying he changed his mind, you should stay home with him instead.

You just giggled and waved as you stepped out the door.

Later, you wished you had stayed.

“Wow. You really left the house looking like that?”

It was a friend of a friend looking down their nose at you, someone you had never met before, so their opinion shouldn’t matter, but...

You stormed into the apartment, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes. Hoseok was sitting on the couch, clearly nodding off in front of the TV, but he jerked up, fully awake when he saw your face.

“What happened?” He asked. You told him. His brow furrowed. “That fucker.” You snorted. “No, seriously, who says something like that to someone they’ve just met?” You shrugged. “Look...” He pulled you into his lap. “I know you a lot better than that person, right?” You nodded. “And I happen to know you’re gorgeous.” Your face scrunched up. He kissed the wrinkle on your nose. “You’d be gorgeous in almost anything, but that outfit accentuated your features nicely, and most importantly, you liked the way you looked in it. If you liked it, no one else’s opinion should matter.”

“No one?” You wondered. “What about you?” He shrugged.

“You can dress up for me if you like, I’d like that, but your opinion should still be the most important one,” he said. You frowned. He rested his hands on your waist. “Sometimes I wear clothes you don’t like.” You smiled sheepishly. “I know that.” He snuck his fingers under your clothes and tickled your sides. You laughed and swatted at him. “But I still like the way I look, so I’m still gonna wear them.”

“For the record,” you said. “Even if I don’t like some of your clothes, you still look good in them. It’s almost annoying how good you look.”

He flushed. “Right back at you.”

~~~

Namjoon

You knew as soon as you woke up. You glanced at your phone. Your alarm was set to go off in an hour.

“Joon?” You shook his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I can go today. I’m so sorry.”

He turned to you, brow furrowed, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s...” You bit your lip and gestured at your head. “One of those days.”

“Oh baby.” He pulled you closer, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head. “So sorry.” You made a noncommittal noise against his chest. “Do you want me to push? I could make some coffee, we could try that meditation routine?”

“I know I should, but I really can’t today,” you said. “I’m just going to sleep.”

“...Okay.” He ran his hand over your back. “I’m here, if you need anything.”

“...Thanks,” you said, your voice small. “But, you could go by yourself, or with your friends, if you want.” You knew he had really been looking forward to that hike.

“I could,” he acknowledged. “But today I’d rather stay with you.”

You were in and out of sleep for several hours. Every time you woke up, he was by your side, reading. Finally, the pressure in your bladder got you out of bed.

Now you were fully awake.

“Still up for that coffee?” You asked hesitantly.  “It’s too late to get to the mountain, but... if you want to go for a little walk... I’d like to try.”

“Coffee!” He agreed. He glanced at the clock. “Maybe decaff...”

You walked hand in hand, half-listening to him tell you about the book he read today, half-focused on the cool breeze on your face. It felt nice, even with the little rain cloud of feelings in your chest. Maybe that cloud would burst, but at least you wouldn’t be alone in the storm. You squeezed Namjoon’s hand.

He looked at you and smiled.

~~~

Jimin

You were lying with your head on his chest, legs tangled up together.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jimin asked softly, as he rubbed your back.

“Everything’s just been too much lately. I’m so tired, all the time. My body feels heavy.”

Jimin nodded slowly. “Should I run a bath for you?” He offered. “And I can give you a massage?” He wiggled his fingers. “Magic hands.” You laughed a little.

“Alright. Thanks, Jiminie.”

“Hmm.” He gave you a kiss and then tumbled out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”

You asked him to take a bath with you. It was a large tub, but you sat close, tucked together so you could feel each other’s warmth.

After the bath, he gave you a massage.

Your body ached less. You felt a little lighter, even though your problems were still there, and there wasn’t much you could do about it.

The next day, you were staring blankly at your work computer when you heard a familiar voice say, “Guess what I have?”

Your eyes widened. “Jimin?”

He grinned, casually leaning against your desk as if he belonged there.

“Guess,” he repeated, swinging a plastic bag from his hand. You sniffed.

“Is that...?” It was food from your favorite takeout place.

He laughed. “No way, your nose is way too good!” He tapped it. “Are you a puppy?”

“You’re the puppy,” you grumbled, pinching his cheek. “Fetching me food.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bad puns won’t scare me away. I’m determined to eat lunch with you... isn’t it about time for your break?”

You glanced at the time on your computer screen. “Oh, huh, you’re right.”

He shook his head. “You need to stop getting caught up in work and forgetting to eat. Let’s eat together.” He pouted at you. “Please?”

You sighed. “Such a hardship to eat my favorite food with someone I love and adore.”

He giggled and hit your shoulder lightly.

~~~

Taehyung

“Put this on.”

“Huh?” You stared at the old t-shirt he was holding out to you. He gestured impatiently with the shirt.

“Come on.”

You squinted at him, considering. He pouted. Fondness cut through the turmoil in your mind. You sighed.

“Fine.”

He grinned. You pulled off your shirt. He hummed, looking you over appreciatively, poking at your sides. You whacked his hand away, pulling on the shirt he gave you. He looked you over again. “Do you care about those pants?”

“Not particularly...”

“Great!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the other room.

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

There were canvasses and paint set up in the living room, the carpet rolled up and pushed over to the side. “Ah. Oh...”

“You don’t like it?”

“I just... I don’t know if I have any ideas about what to paint right now.”

“Just go with the flow,” he said. “Paint what you’re feeling.”

You frowned at the blank canvass. “That would be an ugly painting.”

He shrugged. “Who says art has to be pretty all the time? Anyway, maybe it’ll help you feel better, at least a little, to get it out.”

You took a deep breath. “Alright. Let’s give it a try.”

He turned up the music loud, swaying and wiggling whenever a favorite song came up. As he wiggled, he accidentally flicked paint on you.

His eyes widened. “Sorry!”

You considered him for a moment. You splashed back. You both gasped for air, laughing so hard as you flicked and smeared paint over each other’s skin. Suddenly you were more covered in paint than the canvasses.

“I love it,” he said, hugging you from behind, rocking you slowly as he stared at your painting. “Are you finished with it?”

“For now,” you decided, reaching for his hand to intertwine your fingers with his. “Now let’s go take a shower.” He kissed your shoulder, spluttering when he got paint in his mouth. You laughed.

~~~

Jungkook

Jungkook quietly toed out of his shoes, ready to sneak down the hall so he didn’t wake you. Then he saw you curled up on the couch. You turned to him, your eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He let out a startled noise, the pleasant buzz from a night out drinking with his friends fading almost immediately.

"What’s wrong?” He asked, crouching down in front of the couch, trying to get a better view of your face. You shrugged.

“It’s just... I’m just... you know.”

“...One sec.”

You watched him speed in and out of the kitchen, then in and out of the bathroom. He got a cool washcloth and gently cleaned your face. Then he disappeared back into the kitchen and came out again with a mug of your favorite tea.

“Thanks.” You held it in your hands, letting the warmth soak into you.

“Anything else I can do for you?” His voice was so earnest. You had no doubt he’d find a way to bring you the stars if you asked for them, but all you wanted right now was his company.

“Tell me about your night?”

He blinked. “Okay.” He sat down, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, tucking his knees up against your legs. He spoke quietly in your ear, absentmindedly playing with your fingers while he told you about what he and his friends had gotten up to.

Then he spotted a small smile on your face. He grinned too and kissed it.

[ilys00ga]

Exes to lovers hurt/comfort with Yoongi? Oc is going through a really hard time and one minor inconvenience sets her up to break down and yoongi finds her and they seek solace to each other because no one listens like Yoongi does. Just a moment of oc burrowing her head on his shoulder in silence and boom. Happy ending.

I GO BACK TO YOU, EVERYTIME !

pairing: yoongi x female reader.

genre: hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, post breakup, some bitter sweetness and fluff as well, yoongi is very sweet, they still love each other hahaha.

warnings: none, I think. oh some mentions of cheating. lots of crying lolol.

A/N: hello, I am SORRY for the late upload of this. I keep losing track of writing and posting 😫 but thank u sm for this <3 I hope you like it, I wasn't sure how and what to write tbh but that's what I could come up with...

I tried using "she/her" pronouns instead of "you" for some change, I hope that's fine with u!

I have one more request to make, and it'll probably be posted after a week or something:') but yeah, thanks to everyone who sent me reqs. this was so fun. remember, u can send more they are currently open! (my exams are in like one week or so lmfao)

PS. English is not my first language, so u know the drill.

the tip of yoongi's ears began to ache, and his eyes felt so heavy after several hours of sitting in front of his computer screen, wearing the same set of headphones on his head.

he rubbed his tired face with his palms and threw his head back with a loud groan. he was exhausted. this specific project he was working on consumed him the most this month.

just as he was about to resume his work, the door to his studio rang, and he huffed. the grumpy man up with slumped shoulders and a scowl ready to stare daggers at whoever decided it was just the perfect timing to interrupt his misery.

"....yoongi..." a whimper of his name made his head snap up and face the woman standing right in front of him. his eyes widened as he saw her flushed face twisted with tears running down her cheeks. visibly fresh stains of coffee covered her attire, and her hands were shaking.

swallowing, he didn't utter a word, standing there as he felt his heart pumping cold blood through his wide chest and into his entire body. it's been nearly two years since he'd last spoken to her after the messed up break-up they had.

"yoongi.." a sob shook the woman's shoulders this time as she crouched down, crying and shrinking into her own self right in front of him.

if you'd travel back two years and more ago in time, you'd see yoongi wasting no time in wrapping his arms around her body, but that sweet privilege he once had is long since gone. the she and he that once made this very beautiful thing is long since gone. she were no longer "her" and he was no longer "him". it was hard to decide whether to say "thankfully" or "unfortunately" each time yoongi recalled that gut-wrenching fact.

instead, he quickly kneeled in front of her, hesitating and contemplating before finally settling on just gently putting one of his trembling hands on her shoulder as he wasted no time in asking: "___ what's wrong? are you hurt?"

as if it was embarrassed of her commitment to silence, her head moved on its own will in a light shake of "no."

"what happened?" he repeated in a much calmer voice.

"he- he ch-cheated on m-... again- he-" her body rocked, dancing along with each sob as she struggled to speak. and when he realised that he won'tve getting a proper answer, yoongi silently–and very delicately, as though she would break if he tugged any harder on her skin–grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the studio.

after closing the door and making her sit on the couch, he asked one more time, "what happened?"

his voice never lost that soft tone, she noted, and gulped down the lump that was stuck in her throat, and after some time stuttered with a shaky voice, "I'm so sorry to bother you. i just had such a bad day, and I kind of panicked so hard and ran up here."

"what about this," he pointed at her stained clothes and frowned, "and what did you say about cheating again?"

sniffling, she sighed and rested her hair against the back of the sofa, "found out that Jaehun cheated on me multiple times, and I had a coffee accident. I didn't know where to go, so..."

yoongi stared at her silently, part of him was relieved nothing that bad had occurred to her, the other, the slightly selfish one, had the corners of its lips twitching upwards when he heard that the man he's been dreading for the past few months turned put to be a complete asshole. it was embarrassing, yes, that's why he can never admit that he's still stuck on her, that he felt as though he'd lost a chunk of himself when he knew that she was with somebody new. but he also can't complain, not after everything that happened, not after breaking it apart.

"I'm sorry you always end up with assholes." was all he said.

and a simple "by the way, it's fine, you've always been welcome here" from him was all it took to break her shell. all the self restraint she'd been pulling, all the walls she'd been shielding herself with, it all went flat to the ground, and this time her vision blurred up with hot tears, easily spilling and racing down her cheeks in a matter of seconds. finally giving up the strings she'd been clutching on for dear life.

yoongi was caught off guard, but not surprised. he pursed his lips as he extended his arm to wrap it around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him and burying her face right where it belongs, his neck.

that terribly reminded him of all the sleepless nights after heavy, long days at work they spent cuddled up so close to each other. her crying as she spilled her heart's content to him, and him listening as he rubbed on her back and kissed her head.

seeing her again, one hair away from him after long months of distance and silent, guilty glances whenever they ran into each other in the building they both worked at, was the cherry on top that poisoned cake.

he tightly hugged her, whispering sweet nothings into her hair as he buried his nose into it. he used to like doing that, feeling the tickling of her strands on his nose and the scent he sipped on like a mad man.

after a long moment, her sobs thinned into hiccups, then soft sniffles, and she dried her face up with the long sleeves of her cardigan.

"feeling better?" why is his voice always so damn soft?

she nodded with a tiny hum, slowly raising her body to pull out of the hug.

when she glanced at him, oh boy, when she did glance at him, she was met with those pair of cat eyes, all wide with pure concern. so intense that she quickly averted hers as heat spread through her face and neck.

"I'm fine.." she whispered with a voice hoarse from all the crying.

"you reek of coffee." yoongi joked in an attempt to brighten the mood, smiling as he offered her a package of wet wipes.

"thanks." the woman's lips slowly pushed into a small pout, and she muttered, "I'm sorry for bothering you with my crying."

"don't worry about that, i kind of missed this anyway."

"you miss seeing me cry?" she mused.

"no, I just... it's been so long..."

neither of them said anything for a while, falling into some kind of silence. strangely, there was no awkwardness in it, just hundreds of heavily unspoken confessions and things hanging in the air, all mixed with burning yearning for one another.

"I missed you.." she whispered in a hushed tone, "I thought I would never get to talk to you again."

"i hope you're joking." he replied, "because I don't think you being serious would make it hurt any less."

"I'm sorry that we fought." she apologized.

"I'm sorry, I was an asshole too." yoongi licked his lips, a pinch of fear ached his heart all of a sudden, but he added anyway with a small voice, "do you... do you wanna meet up tomorrow? we could grab some dinner and just... talk."

"alright" she smiled.

"good. I'll call you in the morning, then. good?" yoongi felt as though his heart would jump out of his rib cage and run out of the studio from how overwhelming the whole situation was, if it weren't for her reassuring smile that made it all so much easier to handle.

"good." she replied.

"that was so easy...why didn't we do this earlier?" he covered his burning face with his hands and chuckled.

"we were just too dumb to think back then."

"yeah, we were." he nodded.

and for the first time ever since the pair cut all sorts of communication between each other, yoongi looked directly into her eyes with pure gratitude and smiled.

they ended up meeting up more often than they intended to, slowly patching up the abandoned wounds they once scarred into the body of their broken relationship.

one dinner birthed two and three more, surface-level chitchat of updates about each other's lives turned into deeper dives into the ups and downs, the wrongs and rights of everything they have shared between each other before. where everything shattered into pieces before their own eyes.

it all went slow and steady, like the first time they met a few years ago, like the very beginning of what they once had. it was scary, uncertain, and a sensitive area overall for the two, yet they were still willing to take that road again.

like a wicked witch, miscommunication casted a spell of pain, sourness, and yearning on the pair.

and now that their priorities have changed, maybe there's still a chance for them to break that spell and work it out again.

- fin..

[interesting-interludes]

the comforts of creatures (3)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: fantasy!au, soulmate!au, angst with a happy ending, fluff, hurt + comfort + recovery, eventual smut 

→ word count: 4.7k

→ summary: after you wake up in a strange place with strange men, you begin to experience kindness for the first time in months, as the boys begin to realize that you aren’t the person that they used to know.

→ trigger/content warnings: effects of isolation, sensory overload, effects of memory loss, low self-worth, jin is a goddamn sweetheart, mentions of torture, mentions of starvation, angst lol, over-complicated plot cause it’s fanfiction lol, the boys trying their best

→ a/n: also lil disclaimer i am obviously not a doctor so kindly disregard any medical impracticalities that may arise thanks loves :)

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 3: when you forget me

“Who did this to you?”

Staring up into the eyes of the man leaning over you, a shiver runs through your body at the deep, even tone of his voice. For a long moment, you can’t speak, too distracted by the fact that his attention is directed entirely at you.

The dark piercing eyes, the delicate curve of his mouth, the black curly hair hanging over his forehead. It all shocks you still with something you can’t name. Not quite familiarity, but a sense that whoever this man is, it’s a good idea to listen to him.

You sit there choking on your own words as his eyes search your face.

“Are you afraid?” he simply asks.

You nod, tongue dry in your mouth. 

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He seems to be staring even deeper into your eyes than before, searching for something.

“Joon,” the man calls, a touch of urgency in his voice.

One of the taller ones, the man with short brown hair, approaches you. And you can’t help but notice his build.

He’s broad with long, thick limbs, no doubt bulked with muscle beneath his many layers. It would be easy for him to overpower you. Hurt you.

Instinctively, you flinch back as he gets closer.

He drops to one knee to meet your eye level, softening his expression when you meet his gaze.

“Hey, hey,” he begins in a calming tone, seemingly sensing your rising anxiety at being confronted. “None of us are going to hurt you. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.” 

You don’t believe him. Of course you don’t. But something about his warm eyes, the deep sincerity that lies behind them, makes you release a breath and nod anyway. Or maybe it’s the way that strange feeling in your chest quivers at the sound of his voice.

Offering a slight smile, he then holds up his hands cautiously.

“May I touch your forehead?” he asks.

As if the rhythm of your brain skips a beat, you reel at the question. He's...asking for permission?

You manage a slight nod, watching him closely as he lifts his hands and places one flat against your forehead and the other at the back of your neck.

The others are watching intently, making the air prickle.

Heat blooms under the man’s large hands, spreading down your spine and into your very bones.

Wisps of smoke dance along the edge of your vision. It seems to be coming from him, seeping from his hands, from his mouth, his eyes, which are now clouded over with a milky white film.

A tickling feeling, like the sensation of a string creeping down your throat, seizes your whole body and mind. It’s hot and cool at the same time, singeing your nerve endings yet soothing them as the sensation travels.

Too invasive, it’s too invasive.

It only lasts for a few seconds before you’re jerking out of his grasp. You huff smoke out of your own lungs, desperately trying to expel the strange force that’s permeated your whole body.

Several of the others flinch too. They all seem to be honed in on your every reaction, twitching when you twitch, breath hitching along with yours.

The man withdraws his hands with a placating expression, rising to his feet and backing away to give you some space.

You barely hear it, but he leans over and whispers in Yoongi’s ear.

“We all need to talk. Now.”

You see the smaller man’s jaw clench. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his entire face darkens.

One blink later, and it’s gone, replaced by an expression so heavy, so broken that it nearly brings a sting to your eye.

The only other person Yoongi can bring himself to make eye contact with is Jin.

His hyung understands immediately, letting his eyelids slowly close as all his suspicions are confirmed. He had an inkling, when he found you in that prison cell and you looked at him like he was a stranger. He supposes that now, he essentially is one to you.

It feels like a hit to the gut. He feels the deep ache in the pit of his chest, raw with the knowledge that what’s done can’t be undone. And it hurts like hell.

But he can’t break down now, not in front of the boys, and certainly not in front of you. Your understanding of the situation is extremely fragile right now, and he knows that he needs to lead by example so you can be as comfortable as possible, so you know that you’re safe here with them.

So Jin inhales a clear breath, swallows down his sorrow, and musters up the most composed expression he can manage.

“Alright,” he begins, the whole room looking at him after he breaks the silence, looking for guidance.

“Let’s get you fixed up, hmm?”

You don’t realize that he’s talking to you until he takes a step forward and gestures in your direction.

“Will you follow me?”

You’re realizing that no one is punishing you for making eye contact without permission, so you meet his gaze with a little less hesitation.

The man waits patiently, nothing but gentle concern in his eyes.

Your skin tingles with the feeling of everyone’s gaze on you again, and after your brain slowly processes the question, you rise shakily to your feet and follow him through a nearby doorway.

It’s only after Jin exits the room, after his back is turned, that he lets a few silent tears fall into his sleeve, quick to wipe them away. Because now he needs to do what he does best: heal his clan.

Exhaustion, hunger, and fizzling adrenaline buzz through your veins, your body burned out from running even a short distance. It’s a laborious task to just put one foot in front of the other, but you focus hard to keep up with the man leading you down the hall.

Every step makes your vision blurrier. You can hear your own struggled breathing, feel the burning in your limbs, but the only thing you know how to do is push on and mask how it feels.

Don’t express emotions. Don’t show your pain. It always makes it worse.

Jin pretends not to notice. He has to fight the urge to offer you his arm to lean on, knowing it probably wouldn’t do any good.

You have no idea how long you were asleep or how long you’ve been here, wherever here is. These men don’t seem like a severe threat, at least not now. They haven’t hit you, called you names, spit on you for making noise. But they could be putting on a front, trying to establish a false sense of security.

You’re not letting your guard down anytime soon.

The two of you come to a large, clean room. It’s well-lit, making you squint your eyes against the brightness.

It’s so bright here. And spacious too. Every room seems as wide as a football field.

The man directs you to a bed lined with paper, and you flinch as you sit down, making much more noise than you wanted.

But he doesn’t seem angered by it, he only turns to one of the many cabinets lining the walls.

The familiar squeak and snap of medical gloves. It puts a heavy pit in your stomach. Clenching your teeth, you try to ignore the swell of nausea.

You hear some shuffling, the clink of glass, and then the man is sitting down in a rolling chair next to the bed.

“Do you recognize me?” he asks, slipping a pair of black glasses out of his shirt pocket and putting them on.

A flash of the ashen, vein-mapped face ignites in your memory.

“Yes,” you reply softly, almost flinching at the sound of your own voice in the quiet room.

“Who am I?” He’s looking at you patiently, but there’s a hint of desperation behind it.

“You were in my cell. You’re a—”

Cutting yourself off immediately, you can’t help but recall all the names your captors used to refer to them.

Parasites. Bloodsuckers. Demon spawn.

The man seems to read your mind, but his eyes stay nothing but patient and kind.

“I’m vampiric, yes.”

He busies himself opening a gauze pad and dousing it with disinfectant. When he looks back up at you, it’s with a questioning gaze.

“May I clean your cuts?”

You sit there dumbstruck for a moment. You can’t remember the last time someone cleaned anything for you, let alone asked for permission to do it as if you have some kind of agency. Or spoke to you so...gently.

After a few seconds of silence, you manage a nod.

He offers a slight smile and starts with the shallow cuts and scrapes on your hands. They are overlapped with scars, dirt and dried blood caked under your fingernails.

His touch is warm. It almost makes you jump, the way his skin feels like human skin. You were always told that they were cold creatures, more dead than alive.

Then there’s the alcoholic sting of the disinfectant. That makes you actually jump, but you fight the urge to pull away in case it ends in more pain.

“I’m sorry, it’s going to sting,” he says.

Why is he apologizing? Why is he treating you like this? Like you’re a human and not a creature?

He moves up to the more deep gashes on your arms, applying cream to the worst of them and bandaging them up.

“My name’s Jin. It’s nice to be formally introduced,” the man says, smiling a little painfully.

It hurts him to say it, to admit that he needs to re-introduce himself to you. But at least you’re letting him tend to your wounds. Right now, that’s all he can ask for.

You sit there silently as he moves all the way up to your shoulders, avoiding putting pressure on the deep purple bruises that litter your skin.

“What’s your name?” He knows it, of course he does. And again it hurts to ask, but he knows that this is the best way to go about it, rather than overloading you with the fact that you’ve been here before, that you already know them all.

The question stumps you. You’ve been called many names. Mutt, beast, savage, monster. You don’t remember ever being called anything else.

The man—Jin—seems to sense your inner struggle.

“Can you remember it?” he asks.

With your eyes trained down at the floor, you shake your head.

“Hmm,” he replies, thinking. “Well that just won’t do. What would you like to be called?”

That stumps you even more. Your mind goes as blank as your memory.

Several minutes of silence pass as he tends to the wounds on your neck and face.

The more he looks, the more his blood boils. Your neck is badly bruised, with painful-looking red rub marks all the way around, as if it’s been abused with a number of different things. A tight fist, a ring of rope, a collar.

Your face is covered in scars and yellowing black bruises. Chunks of hair have been ripped from your skull, not to mention that fact that most of your hair has been sloppily cut.

It all makes him want to tear the throats of everyone even associated with that facility. Looking at your face, at the poorly hidden terror that resides in it, Jin tries his hardest to mask his anger so you aren’t frightened by it.

Jin checks for signs of infection while he dabs at the lesions. He notices that you barely flinch, even when it’s clear that you want to. He wonders, feeling sick to his stomach, what happened in that horrifying place.

“You’ve been through a lot of pain,” he says, and you can hear deep sympathy in his voice.

It’s unusual to you, hearing someone sound sorry for you.

You don’t reply, looking down at the floor again.

A few minutes pass, with him continuing to patch up your wounds while you sit there motionless. After Jin finishes the last bandage, he hesitates, looking at you with another question in his eyes.

“Wound you mind removing your shirt?”

It makes you turn cold, arms unconsciously wrapping protectively around yourself.

“No? Okay, we don’t have to do that,” he says almost immediately, shifting his attention to your legs instead.

“Any internal pain or other symptoms?”

You only answer with a dull shake of your head when he looks up at you expectantly.

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe you for a second.

“It’s okay to tell me. I’m a doctor.”

You still don’t say anything, despite the sharp pain in your stomach and the incessant pounding in your head. Too many times you’ve encountered doctors that did nothing but use their knowledge of your body against you.

The last thing you want to do is admit weakness.

For a very brief moment, Jin’s face flashes with disappointment, and you feel your gut lurch with guilt. The next second he’s gathering more equipment from the cart next to the bed.

“Would you mind if I did a few more basic checks?” he asks.

This time you indulge him with a slight nod, and you’re rewarded with a smile that plumps up his cheeks and makes that something in your chest jump.

He checks your heartbeat, your temperature, your blood pressure, among other things that you don’t recognize.

You accept it all with quiet compliance, still fighting the urge to flinch away with every touch. Because every time he touches you, your heartbeat stalls against your will, heat blazing across the spot where his skin met yours.

He always treats you softly and with compassion, making your eyes burn with the urge to cry.

He removes his gloves after he’s done, tossing them, along with the used gauze, into a bin.

“I’m going to give you some antibiotics to fight infection, and something for your pain,” he informs you.

Again, all you do is sit there silently, head tilted down towards the ground.

Jin fights off a sad frown as he turns to one of the cabinets and shuffles through the many pill bottles. Finding the ones he’s looking for, he empties a few into his hand, grabbing a stray water bottle from the counter.

When he hands them to you, you take them very hesitantly. Your heart rate picks up considerably when he continues to stand there, clearly intent on watching you take them.

Slowly, you take a swig from the bottle and raise your cupped hand to your lips. You feign tilting the contents of your palm into your mouth, swallowing as little of the water as possible in case it too is laced with something. You’ve gotten quite good at pretending to take pills, so he easily believes you.

When he turns around, you spit the water back into the bottle as quietly as you can and tuck the pills into your makeshift pants pocket.

“Alright,” Jin says as he turns back to face you. “Now let’s get you something to eat.”

The air is heavy, sucked dry from the words out of Yoongi’s mouth. The six of them stand there silently, feeling gutted.

Hoseok is the first to string together a comprehensible sentence.

“I...I can’t believe it.”

None of them can. Almost ten years, gone. The years spent living with them, loving them, getting to know them better than anyone else in the world, all wiped away.

You can’t remember essentially growing up with the maknaes. You can’t remember studying spells with Yoongi, nearly surpassing him in knowledge and skill. You can’t remember all the times Jin nursed you back to health after protecting the others in a fight, or when you would explode laughing at one of Hobi’s jokes while still in recovery, Jin snapping at him to knock it off because you’d broken your ribs again.

And all the years spent earning your trust, earning their trust, building your confidence, carving your place in their souls, all gone from your mind.

“How?” Jungkook asks, voice thick with hopelessness.

“A riamemors spell,” Yoongi replies. His arms are crossed as he leans back on the counter, eyes trained on the ground. His expression is unreadable, but they all know that he’s been hit just as hard.

None of them know as much about casting as Yoongi does, not even Namjoon, but almost every Northerner knows what that spell does. It means “death of memories,” and it cannot be reversed.

The F&F has been abusing it for decades. First using it in weak doses on humanic people to keep them ignorant about the realities of atypicals, then using it full potency on atypicals to make them mindless slaves.

They don’t know what that facility was planning on using you for, but clearly they didn’t want you to have your memories to do it.

“How strong?” Taehyung asks. His eyes are glassy, chin wobbling despite his efforts to fight it.

They all look to Namjoon for the answer. One of the abilities of wraiths is delving into a person’s mind through touch, including their memories.

Namjoon’s face holds a deep sorrow. Your head is a very dark place.

“Nearly full strength,” he replies. “We aren’t there. Not at all.”

Half of them feel sick to their stomachs, the other half burn with rage.

“What does she remember?” Jimin asks, eyes glassy.

Namjoon’s jaw clenches.

“A bit from childhood, her parents, and...the facility.”

It looks like it physically hurts him to say it. A long, weighted moment of silence.

“Joon?” Yoongi says, looking up for the first time since they entered the kitchen.

The younger man meets his elder’s gaze, waiting in anticipation for what he will say next. The redness in Yoongi’s eyes makes Namjoon want to hug him.

“What happened there?” Yoongi finally brings himself to ask.

Namjoon’s throat bobs as everyone looks at him once again. It all comes back to him, the pain, the torture, the loneliness felt through your skin. The shadow of it, at least. The memory of it. The real thing must’ve felt much worse.

“Let us see,” Jimin suddenly says, taking an eager step forward.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jimin,” Namjoon replies, gravely serious.

“It would help us get inside her head, see what she’s dealing with,” he argues, looking around for support.

Taehyung and Jungkook look just as eager, while Hoseok looks tempted by morbid curiosity. Yoongi’s trying not to make eye contact, worried that it might give away the fact that he secretly agrees with Jimin.

Seeing that he’s clearly outnumbered, Namjoon lets out a defeated sigh.

“Alright, but just a glimpse,” he says.

They begin to gather closely around Namjoon, until he holds a hand up.

“Not you, Jimin,” he says sternly.

“Why?” the shorter man whines, upset at being the only one left out.

“I really don’t think you should see this. For your own good.”

Everyone knows that Jimin was briefly imprisoned at a one of the same facilities, and every so often he gets triggered and descends into a rapid downward spiral plagued with nightmares and flashbacks.

He looks around and finds the rest of them looking at him imploringly. When he looks at Hoseok and Yoongi, they both give him a silent nod.

Jimin sighs and lets his shoulders sag. Despite the itch of not knowing, he trusts his partners to take care of him.

“Okay, hyung,” he says, stepping away to stand at the edge of the room.

Namjoon takes a deep inhale when they’ve all huddled in a semi-circle around him. Smoke begins to unfurl from his hands, his eyes clouding over. When he opens his mouth, a thick stream of gray vapor pours from his lips.

Everyone leans over to breath it in while Jimin covers his mouth and pinches his nose.

They feel it burn down their throats and warm their lungs, singeing all along their veins until it reaches the depths of their minds.

Then their vision goes dark, eyes clouding over just like Namjoon’s. Cold fear crawls up their spines, the ghost of hunger sitting in their bellies.

A thousand images, feelings, and sensations flash through them.

Countless miserable nights sleeping on hard, wet stone. Being wakened with a bucket of freezing water. Gagging on rotten food scraps to soothe the never ending ache of starvation.

A slap to the face every time you looked at an overseer without permission. Because you are beneath them, not even worthy to see the color of their eyes.

A kick to the ribs every time you made a single sound, every time you even breathed too loud.

The sting of needles, the heat of an iron brand. Electric shocks right to the nerve endings when you fell asleep without permission. Cigarettes stubbed out on your skin.

A spit in the face. Spit in your food, then being forced to eat it because it’s all you have. Having to lick water droplets off the rusted pipes.

Open wounds, tender bruises. An ache so deep it feels like you were born with it. Chained in awkward, uncomfortable positions for hours on end.

Disgusting thing. You are nothing. You will never leave this place. You disgrace the ground you walk on. I wish I could kill you myself.

Jungkook rips away first. He heaves the smoke out with violent, forceful breaths, stumbling back like it will distance him from what he’s seen.

Hoseok and Taehyung follow soon after, jerking away as they try to cough the memories out.

Yoongi lingers the longest. When he finally pulls away, his eyes are brimming with moisture.

None of them can hold it in any longer. Taehyung bursts into tears, face scrunching up with the weight of it all. He turns to the one closest to him, which is Jungkook, and lets his head fall on his on shoulder.

Jungkook automatically puts a comforting hand on his head, fighting back tears himself.

Seeing someone they love go through all that, seeing them get treated like dirt, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

Hoseok nearly bites through his tongue. All he can think about is revenge, making the ones who did this to you regret it more than they’ve ever regretted anything in their lives.

Jimin feels like he might throw up. Not because he’s in pain, but because he’s seeing his mates in pain, so much pain. And their pain pales in comparison to yours.

He’s grateful to Namjoon, grateful that he didn’t let him see inside your head.

Jungkook’s chest hiccups with sobs, and Jimin takes hold of Taehyung so Jungkook can fold up against Hoseok.

Tae buries his head in the fold of Jimin’s neck. Hoseok wraps Jungkook in a bear hug to soothe his hitching breaths.

Yoongi, who’s held strong up until this point, finally succumbs and lets himself go limp in Namjoon’s hold, who was right behind him in case he should need him.

For several minutes, the air is filled with nothing but heart-wrenching cries and quiet snivels.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s safe now,” Namjoon says to no one in particular, still supporting Yoongi’s weight.

Jungkook’s gaze has gone foggy. The hell of that place won’t get out of his head. All he can think of is how he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to take the pain instead. It should’ve been him.

Taehyung’s balling like a baby, he couldn’t speak if he tried to. His chest is close to bursting, swollen with so many emotions that he can’t decide which ones hurt the most. The pain of knowing what you went through, the rage towards the ones responsible, the guilt of not being there to protect you, the sorrow of knowing that he’s a stranger to you now.

Jimin is torn between breaking down himself and being strong for his mates. He feels the pressure behind his eyes, but he blinks it away and holds Taehyung tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“Why?” Tae asks in a broken voice, finally saying what they’re all thinking.

Why would anyone do this?

“They must’ve not wanted her to know what she was capable of,” Namjoon answers.

It makes sense. You were a skilled caster along with Yoongi, the spells you and him collaborated on were some of the most powerful they’d ever seen. You were incredibly knowledgeable after spending years studying alongside Namjoon, partnering with him during many of his research projects.

You were always sharp, strong, and absolutely deadly in your final form.

“What are we going to do?” Jungkook asks, barely above a whisper.

“What we’ve always done,” Yoongi replies almost instantly, shifting to fully support his own weight. “We’re gong to do what’s best for her.”

Seeing him regain his quiet composure gives the rest of them the strength to wipe the last of their tears away.

“She’s been kept in isolation, starved...tortured.”

They all hear the catch in Yoongi’s voice at the word.

“Her trust in people has been completely broken. It will take some time before she feels safe again, before she can handle a normal diet, before she’s comfortable with being touched.”

That part is going to be difficult for most of them. After all the years of hand holding, cuddling, all the comforting embraces, it’s going to be hard to refrain from trying to soothe you with physical touch.

“No doubt she’s overwhelmed and confused as it is,” Yoongi says, then he pauses like he’s gearing up to say something difficult.

“So I think it’s best if we don’t overwhelm her further by telling her who we are. At least not now.”

Silence. Uncomfortable, choking silence.

“Just...pretend we haven’t met before?” Hoseok says, disbelieving.

“Not pretend, just...don’t acknowledge it,” Yoongi says. “Right now, we’re just a group of strangers that whisked her away from everything she ever knew.”

“We don’t even know how much she knows about what we are. Everyone knows standard protocol for those places is extended brainwashing,” Namjoon adds.

That makes them stop and think. What does she know about atypicals? Did they make you despise them like Southerners do? Do you even know about the soul bond? Do you even know what you are?

“Won’t that make her feel lied to?” Jimin asks.

“I assume she’d feel more lied to if we tried to convince her that she’s known us for years. It might make her feel like we’re trying to trick her into trusting us,” Namjoon explains. 

“It might pressure her into trying to remember things she can’t, to be the person she used to be,” Jungkook says, eyes still glazed over.

And all of them know that you’ll never be the person you used to be.

“She has to trust us on her own, not because we tell her that she should,” Yoongi asserts.

Another stretch of silence.

“For how long?” Tae asks.

“Not for long, just until she feels safe here. Until she decides that she want to stay here, Yoongi continues.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says. He doesn’t know if he can pretend that you’re not his mate, like you aren’t a vital piece of him.

“We’ll just take it day by day,” Hoseok begins, seeming more convinced by the whole idea. “Right now, our biggest priority should be making her feel safe.”

Nods all around.

“What...” Jimin starts, voice trailing off with uncertainty. “What if she wants to leave?”

None of them can think of a reply to that.

The next second, footsteps sound from the hallway. The shifters can smell you coming, and you no longer stink of dried blood.

Jin rounds the corner, closely followed by your sluggish form, looking exhausted and shaky.

A jolt of fear in your chest from being confronted by all of them again, and the rest of them feel it in the pit of their hearts. The fact that their own mate feels endangered by them, in your own home, elicits a fresh sting.

There’s moment of dull quiet where nobody moves, too afraid to make a wrong move.

Yet again, their leader guides them in the right direction.

Namjoon steps forward with a warm smile on his face, slouching his shoulders to look less tall and threatening in your eyes.

“You must be hungry.”

a/n: thank you for reading til the end! comment any thoughts or reactions i love to hear them :) sorry if i forgot anyone on the taglist!

taglist: @jeepersjiminie @scuzmunkie @anchovyinajar @btsiguess-kpop @btspurplesky @emu007 @goldeneclipsedragon @serendididy @namjoons-bug @angryperfectionpersona @wittyreader @ariavaana @crazy-person @kyrah-williams @leehaechanlee @jinkajous @dolliecat @reallysparklychaos @xmochiloverx @queen-in-the-shadows @astrids-pandora @kapten-xouk @anonynim @massiekurrb @tito-the-mermaid @bangtannie7 @veronawrites @karlalands​ @gooooomz @iceprincessviviane @mugiwaraelly @iwuzhere @fl0r4f4wn @welcometomyworld13 @chatsgotmytongue @uarmyhore @djodjom1 @singukieee @ee101abc @effielumiere @slinekyu @azalea-nyx @jcrml @schokoshaker @tirouxdreemurr @blancflms @lovelysneer @blackravena @illnevertrustmyselfagain @mirahuyooo @blank-et-noir @sld88

[babyarmybabbles]

"Okay." A1 D2

A Min Yoongi breakup drabble

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Yoongi Breaks up with you in a café. You... Deal. You guess.

Word Count: 1,129

Notes: This occurred in about 45 minutes at 4am last night. I dunno, man. It's more a reflection of how i was feeling than a real story, but I left room for if i wanna come back to it. For now it's... here. Have at.

Warnings: Break up. Low-key dissociating.

Masterlist Link <3 | Next Part (?)

You stare blankly at your boyfriend, useless paper straw dangling loosely from your lips. You’d been chewing idly at it when this conversation started, but even that motion froze as you processed what you’d just heard.

Sunlight beats in from the large windows on the other side of the hipster café you don't even like. You never had, but it had ended up becoming your regular spot to meet your boyfriend, given that it was the only place in a five mile radius that didn’t attract fucktons of paparazzi with a single stolen peek of Min Fucking Yoongi.

The sun hits your eyes directly from where you sit in the back corner of the café. It heats up the small building horrendously. You hate this place a little more with every second that passes. The half-drunk blended drink sat in front of you struggles for it's life. For it's ice. Whatever.

You blink rapidly, something vile crawling up your throat. You think your heart is going to burst. You think you might vomit.

"Come again?" You plead, desperately hoping you'd heard him wrong.

Min Yoongi has the nerve to look apologetic. He dares to sit there, dressed head to toe in black in the middle of a sweltering heat wave, and look sorry for you.

Even with his face obscured by his mask and bucket hat (he'd have usually pushed it down to smile at you by now. (Holy shit he hadn't even smiled at you)) you can read fucking pity clear as day in his eyes.

"I think we should break up." He repeats, tone calm and even. Bastard. "I just..." he trails off, searching for an explanation that isn't there.

"You just...?" You parrot back. You can almost see yourself reflected in his eyes. Pale, horrified, shocked. Pathetic in your sweaty t-shirt and cut-off sweatpants. (You thought he preferred when you met him this way? It was less like a...date. it was less like a date. With your boyfriend) Desperate for an answer.

"We're just going different directions in life, is all." At this you can't help but bark a sardonic laugh. Quiet, even as indignation pricks at your face. Considerate of his status as you ever were.

"No shit, Min Yoongi." You snarl at him. He has the absolute audacity to take your anger with serenity. Like he expected it. (Like he deserves it.)

"The only other people going the same direction as you are other world-class idols! Which I have never been." You feel like you're hissing and spitting like an alley cat. You're not even really angry. (You can hear something breaking)

"No, not like..." he heaves a sigh. It sounds like it comes from the heart. It sounds tired.

"We barely see each other these days. I know that's my fault, but- I don't know. What's the point of us being together if we're not together? I'm just not in a place in my life for a relationship right now."

You suddenly feel cold. As if a blizzard has just blown through Seoul during the hottest summer of the decade. You can feel the light in your eyes die out. You think maybe the shock has numbed you. You think you're drowning.

(Have all of your efforts meant nothing to him?)

(… What was it all for, then?)

You take in a shaky breath. You thank every power that might be that your eyes are completely dry. You still kind of need to throw up.

You nod decisively.

"Okay" you say. "Okay." You begin to stand, gathering your things. (You don't think about the little sketch book you'd brought with you, excited to indulge in your shared hobby for the first time in a while. You don't think about the CD in your bag, your pathetic attempts at getting to know his profession better. You don't think about the mask in your pocket, on the off chance he'd say yes to a walk. You don't. Think.)

"Okay?" He questions, alarmed, emotional, for the first time today.

"Okay." You nod again, standing to full height. Back straight. Chin high. You walk around the table, forcing him to turn his whole body to keep his eyes on you.

"That's it? Just okay?" He questions again. He sounds a tad angry. He sounds a bit hurt. Good.

"Yeah." You respond. "Just okay." You nod one more time. You might be becoming a bobblehead.

"You've said what you needed to. We're over. Nothing I can do to change that.” You shrug to yourself, head tilting down to meet his eyes. A very thin thread within you threatens to snap. You look away.

“I'm not going to beg, Min Yoongi." No, you were never going to beg for a man. It hadn't bagged you this one. And it wouldn't let you keep this one either.

He almost flinches as you say his full name again. Like you're strangers. "I wasn't asking you to." He mutters, almost petulantly.

You nod one more time. His eyes are glued to you. You haven't moved since you got up. You take another deep breath.

You bow to him. A neat 90 degrees. Customer service style.

"Thank you for our time together." You intone blankly. You really are grateful. It's been wonderful. (He means SO MUCH to you) "You've been great." (He was so SO good, so why?!)

Your chin wobbles as you face the ground. You see his hand raising to touch your shoulder. Your rise from the bow, dodging his hand, dry-eyed and blank-faced.

"Please delete my number."

You turn on your heal and march out before he can find the words to respond to you. Head held high. Dignified as can be. In a sweaty t-shirt and cut-off sweatpants.

Your drink gives up its fight, completely melted.

A napkin sits on the table. You hadn’t had a chance to show him the sketch you’d made while you’d waited for him.

You leave behind Min Yoongi, hand outstretched, something like regret painted across his face.

(You leave behind your heart too.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first month afterwards you feel nothing. You're numb to the heartbreak. Post-breakup insecurities delay their manifestations. Your questions sit halted and unformed in your head.

You go to work. You indulge in your hobbies. You eat tasteless food. You get useless sleep. You try not to think. You end up thinking too much anyways.

You think maybe you should have interrogated him more. Argued. Accused. Clung tightly and never agreed to let go. Left claw marks in him.

But that was never your way.

You bottle up the hurt and the anger and the confusion. You bottle up the tears and the depression and the anxiety.

In the first month, you feel nothing.

In the second month, you leave Seoul.

[honeylemonteaasblog]

Loved You Once

summary: Our MC, Jia, moves back to Korea after living abroad and reconnects with the boys, including Jungkook, the boy who has been in love with her since they were kids.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Named MC)

genre: angst, some fluff, healing

word count: 6.3 k

warning (triggers— please read them): domestic abuse, emotional abuse and manipulation, implied physical abuse, trauma, depression, talk of mental health

note: I tried to portray mental health in a real way that represented trauma and abuse without romanticizing it. I understand that parts of this may be difficult to read, but I also firmly believe that we should talk about mental health, trauma, and abuse in an effort to create safe spaces for survivors’ stories. Please let me know if anyone has advice or concerns about writing about sensitive topics. I’d love to hear it.

“Did you hear? Jia’s back.” Jungkook’s head snapped to Hoseok. It looked like the rest of the boys were also surprised. Your family had moved to the states when you were still in high school. You all had maintained your friendship for a while through excessive texting and random facetimes, but the distance made it difficult. Then, life got really busy and you all fell out of touch. Well, you fell out of touch with them; they still talked with each other.

It was something that the boys would never forgive themselves for. They had each other, but they felt like they had abandoned you. Even if that wasn’t the case and you didn’t actually blame them. The boys felt bad that they were all friends still and didn’t even know how you were doing. They don’t check in anymore. They were supposed to be your best friends, but they had done a horrible job of maintaining that relationship. However, it was also something they would never admit to each other. Mostly because they didn’t want to say it out loud. None of them had talked to you in years.

“I overheard my mom talking to her mom.” Hoseok admits. They could see the frown on his face. And they could all relate. They wish that they didn’t need to resort to overhearing their parents’ conversation to hear about their best friend’s life. Well, the girl who used to be their best friend, now they aren’t sure where they stand anymore. It’s not like they had planned on growing apart. They still cared for you. Now, it’s just… hard.

Jungkook wasn’t sure how to make sense of his emotions. Of course, the 8 of you had been best friends, but he was in love with you. He thinks that he had always loved you, even before he had realized it. But you moved away before he was able to fully understand that you were the love of his life and he would never be able to love someone else like he loves you. He’s not trying to be dramatic, he had a few girlfriends. It’s just that he quickly realized that none of them were you. You were across the ocean. Then, he remembers seeing an instagram post about an anniversary and decided that he needed to move on. You looked happy in the photo and he decided that he couldn’t threaten that by claiming that you were the love of his life. He couldn’t just barge into your life after abandoning you. It’s just, that he couldn’t get over you. How was anyone supposed to get over you?

“Maybe she’ll come to the event on Friday?” Seokjin wondered aloud. Hoseok’s family and your family were close. So, if you were back in town it made sense that you would be at the Jung family’s charity event. Your parents would be there. They just didn’t know how to prepare for seeing you. Were they supposed to act like nothing happened? Were they supposed to beg for your forgiveness and apologize profusely? It’s not like you had made an effort to maintain your friendship either. It was just… that life got busy. They would never hold that against you though. Your entire life changed. They were the ones that were supposed to keep your life stable, but they didn’t.

“I guess we will see in a few days.”

You sat in front of your vanity for a while because you couldn’t bring yourself to get up. You had already finished getting ready but you didn’t want to go down stairs because then you would have to see all the people that you had left. Your family had moved while you were in high school, but your parents moved back to Korea when you went to university. You had gotten a scholarship and didn’t want to waste it, so you stayed. It was one of the hardest decisions you had ever made. You didn’t know if you could live in the states without your family. But you were also in love, which made the decision easier though you would deny it.

You lived in the states for four years as you finished college. You had a masters program lined up but then everything went to shit— well everything was already shit, you just hadn’t realized it yet. You hated yourself for dropping out of the masters program. It had been one of the most competitive programs in the country and you just… left it. Even though you know it’s not your fault (a fact that your therapist made sure to remind you over and over until you could remind yourself), it feels like your fault. It feels like you gave up.

You blink away the tears. You had spent way to long on your make up to ruin it now. “Let’s get this over with” You mutter to yourself. You are already tired just thinking about the small talk.

To be honest, you hadn’t thought about seeing the boys. Of course they were your best friends, but now they weren’t. Unlike the boys suspected, you didn’t blame them. You had drifted away from them and you knew that they were pursuing their dreams. You would never let your problems hold them back. But that means you also hadn’t thought about seeing them. Ever since getting back you had been struggling, so no offense to the boys, but they weren’t really the priority.

You allowed yourself one deep breath before pushing the door open. The event was being held down stairs so you knew that you wouldn’t have much time to steel yourself once you left the room. You had to be prepared before you left.

The room was beautiful. It was like an extravagant ballroom fit for a gala. Hoseok’s family had gone all out this year. The doors at the back opened into a garden. You could see a beautiful water fountain out in the garden. You knew that you would spend most of the evening outside, hiding away from everything else. It’s not that you didn’t want to see anyone, it’s just that you had only gotten back a little more than a week ago. That’s not a lot of time to adjust to life in Korea again. Let alone, prepare for the Jung Family’s charity event, which was always an impressive event.

You didn’t see the boys until the event was almost over. You had been successfully hiding in the garden for most of the night. But the fountain was really beautiful so you decided to sit on one of the benches. Yoongi had seen you sitting there for a little while and decided that he had to consult the rest of his friends to decide what they should do. To decide how to approach you. What to talk about and which questions were good questions. How not to overwhelm you. They knew all of them going over at once would probably be overwhelming, but none of them would wait. They didn’t even play rock paper scissors to decide; the stakes were too high and no one wanted to risk losing.

Besides, if some people were forced to stay back, they would most likely end up watching from the bushes and that would be even more awkward when you inevitably noticed.

You looked up when you heard the footsteps approaching. Your eyes widened comically and the boys thought that you were about to begin a long rant about how everything was there fault. They really should have kept in touch just to save themselves the scolding. But you didn’t. You simply took two long strides and threw yourself into Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook easily caught you. Like the rest of them, he was surprised, but he didn’t dare not catch you. You felt Jin pat your head, ruffling your hair. You turned to glare at him, but kept your arms wrapped around Jungkook.

“Jia, it’s been so long. We’re sorry we didn’t keep in touch.” You simply waved Namjoon off, much to the boys surprise. “Life got busy.” You reply. That was the understatement of the year.

“We have plenty of time to catch up.” You reassure them, still clinging to Jungkook. Though you reluctantly pull away and put some distance between the two of you so you can hug the rest of the boys. Jungkook thought he felt physical pain when he let you go.

You always knew that Jungkook had a crush on you, and you thought it was adorable. Mostly because you thought Jungkook was adorable. When you left you had a crush on him too. The secretly-writing-in-your-diary, middle-school-love, innocent kind of crush. The one that you would never act on because it was too pure for this world. The love that you would hold on to when other boys broke your heart to prove that love really did exist. But then you had been in the States and Jungkook was here. You couldn’t let yourself be stuck on him. Then, you fell in love with another man and dreamed of marrying him and your children and a happy ever after. You dreamed of experiencing the love that you felt for Jungkook with another man. You should have noticed that first mistake, to think that that love could be replicated. None of those dreams worked out, but despite all of it, you never didn’t love Jungkook. He was your first love. Deep down, you think you’ve only loved Jungkook, but you aren’t ready to think too much about that yet.

So the rest of the night you keep your distance from Jungkook and catch up with the boys on what you’ve missed. You fill them in on some of what they’ve missed, but you decide to keep most of the shit show that is your life to yourself. It’s not that you think the boys would judge you, but some things you aren’t ready to admit out loud to anyone, not even in your room by yourself with no one else home.

When you leave the boys at the end to the night you all decide to meet the next morning at one of your favorite cafes. You used to go there multiple times a week when you all were still in high school, before you left of course.

You knew that today was going to be a hard day as soon as you woke up. The past week you had been full of energy and happiness, most of which you attribute to seeing the boys again for the first time and having your schedule packed with cafe hopping and catching up with their lives. But here you were, lying in bed with the covers pulled over your head, crying for no real reason other than that today sucks. It was only 9 in the morning. You were supposed to meet up with Jungkook, Jin, and Yoongi for brunch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You wanted to curl up and die.

Are you being dramatic right now, of course. But that’s also the reality of life. Some days are harder than others. And today is one of those. Once your life went to shit and you realized the love of your life was not in fact the love of your life, there were a lot of hard days. You tried to power through them through sheer determination and will power, but quickly realized that you were too exhausted. You had been fighting to stay afloat for so long as your life tried to drown you, that you didn’t even have any fight left once you realized that you were being drowned in the first place.

It took you a while to realize, and accept, that somedays were slow days. The days when you let your self roll around in bed and cry without needing to feel guilty. The days when you ate all the chocolate in your apartment and didn’t change out of your pajamas. Honestly, there were a lot of those days.

It is admittedly harder to allow yourself those slow days when your back in Seoul, and when you have brunch plans in a couple of hours. But you are also well aware that you aren’t going to be able to show up for brunch in a few hours. It’s simply not something you have the energy to do and that’s okay. The boys will understand. They have to. If they don’t, and they aren’t able to accept this new, broken version of yourself, then you aren’t sure how your friendship will work. And you can’t lose them all over again. So, they have to understand that sometimes there are hard days and you won’t be able to make it to brunch.

You reach over to your nightstand to text the new group chat, with you and the boys. You send out a text about not being able to make it to brunch, you aren’t completely sure what to tell them and you don’t want to lie. You decide to leave it ambiguous and hope that they don’t read into it. When you sit up in bed and assess your situation, you think that your therapist would be proud of you. Recognizing your emotions. Setting boundaries. Communication.

You realize that, despite everything, you are proud of yourself.

Today’s slow day will start with a bath, you decide. And ordering pastries and coffee from your favorite cafe.

The boys are all gathered in Namjoon’s office reading your text, again.

“I’m sorry I can’t make it to brunch today. I’d love to reschedule tho. Some time later this week work?”

They had called an emergency meeting as soon as they had seen the text this morning, despite some of the boys working. They rearranged their schedules for it. They didn’t want to seem overbearing. You had just gotten back from the States. And they have been making plans with you constantly for the past week. Now that they think about it, it might have been a little overbearing. Okay, definitely overbearing.

There was something formal about your text that they couldn’t figure out. Hence the impromptu meeting. You didn’t make an excuses or claim that you were tired. You just said that you weren’t coming. Honestly, it stumped them. It made them feel like something was wrong. But they weren’t sure how to ask if something was wrong without being even more overbearing than they already were.

Hoseok had asked your parents where you were staying, claiming that they wanted to deliver some food for you. But they also didn’t want to intrude on your space. And you clearly wanted some space. They just also wanted to check on you. They needed to check on you. Ultimately, that was the deciding factor. The guilt of the past years was consuming them whole and they couldn’t bare the idea of you hurting in your apartment alone as they continued on with everyday life.

They decided on Jungkook heading over to your apartment to check on you. If anyone was going to get through to you, it’d be Jungkook. And if anyone needed to see you and make sure you were okay, it’d be Jungkook.

Jungkook got to your apartment before you had time to order from the cafe which would have been bad because you really wanted coffee and a chocolate croissant. But Jungkook brought coffee and a chocolate croissant.

You still made him sit on the couch until you had drank half the coffee. And he was happy to wait, he thought that you looked like you needed the coffee. It made Jungkook happy that he was the one to bring you the coffee.

You looked exhausted. He could see bags under your eyes but he couldn’t tell if they were from last night or it was the first time he was seeing you without makeup since you had gotten back. You were wearing a sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants that seemed to be swallowing you whole. You looked really comfortable. And cute. Like really cute, but in a way that made Jungkook want to pull you into his arms and cuddle with you for the rest of eternity kind of way.

“Why did you come?” You didn’t bother asking how he knew where you lived, you knew your parents would’ve provided the information easily. They adored the seven boys who both protected and comforted you throughout your childhood. Jungkook watches you with careful eyes considering your reaction. He doesn’t see any anger.

“You look exhausted.” Jungkook didn’t really mean to say that, but he couldn’t help himself. “Are you sleeping okay?” He is suddenly overcome with guilt. The boys had wanted to make up for the past, they had wanted to learn about your life without them, and they had wanted to share their lives with you. Suddenly, Jungkook wasn’t sure if that was the right choice. They should’ve let you settle in and get adjusted to life in Seoul, rather than drag you around where they wanted to go. They shouldn’t have pushed so hard.

You laugh a little, breaking Jungkook out of his mental spiral. Guilt can do that to you, especially when it’s a little misplaced.

“I am, but that’s why I’m in Seoul. Right?” Your voice is firm, but vulnerable. Jungkook wants to push because he wants to understand what that means. Were you not sleeping well in the States? When he looks into your eyes he sees a vulnerability that tells him not to push you. So, he holds his tongue and instead reaches over and pulls you closer into his side.

“Then let’s rest.” Jungkook doesn’t leave room for your protests. But when he glances down at you, he doesn’t think you were ever going to. You simply burrow into the couch more and suggest that Jungkook turn a show on.

By the end of the first episode, you are asleep and Jungkook is smiling.

This is what the boys should have been doing, even well you were so far away. They should have found a way to comfort you, even when you didn’t ask for it. Especially when you didn’t ask for it. They should have showed up for you, both metaphorically but also literally. Why hadn’t they ever visited you?

The next few weeks are slower. You and the boys still go to brunch and try as many new cafes as you can. You still learn about each other’s lives and introduce each other to the new parts of yourself. You can tell that they care. It’s just like how they used to be: a perfect mix of protective and caring while creating space for you to be the person you want to be.

There are moments, mostly in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, that you think about how they stopped reaching out after you went to the states. But even in those moments you scold yourself. Life was changing for all of you. You never wanted to blame them for your friendship falling apart.

More often than you would want to admit, you think about the man that you loved, the man who broke your heart and tore you apart. You wonder what the boys would have thought of you if they saw that. A part of you wanted them to rescue you. Another part of you was glad that they weren’t there. That they never saw how much power you gave to someone else and how he used it break everything you loved about yourself. He turned you against yourself.

You fell in love with a man who seems so perfect. It wasn’t until you had been dating for over a year and moved in together that you realized he wasn’t perfect. Rather he was an angry drunk. You knew that he was under a lot of stress with work and you liked to think that he loved you, but the more rational part of your brain also knew that you didn’t deserve to treated like that. No one did.

It’s a shame that it’s really hard to leave a relationship with someone who tells you that they love you. It’s really hard to leave a relationship with someone when you live with them and the rest of your family is an ocean away. And it’s really hard to leave a relationship when they apologize every time that they hurt you and promise that they will never do it again.

The longer you stayed, the harder it became. You started to think about how everyone would be disappointed that you hadn’t left the first time he put his hands on you. You started to think about how this is all your fault, and that you should have know better.

It wasn’t until you called a crisis text line in the middle of the night when he was on a work trip that you started to realize how wrong he was. You were under the blankets like someone was going to hear you. You didn’t tell them what was going on because you didn’t want it to be real, but it was the first time in years— since the boys— that someone just listened to you. That someone wanted to hear how you were doing and what they could do to help make life, even a little bit, easier.

After that call you started online therapy. It took a little bit until you found the right therapist for you, but when you did, you both just clicked. Within a few sessions you had spilled your story to her and despite all of your worries she didn’t blame you. She told you how strong you are. She told you that you were never the one to blame. She told you that he is the one at fault. Over the course of the following weeks she helped you move out and build a new foundation. She helped you reframed your thoughts so you weren’t blaming yourself for things that weren’t your fault and could recognize that no one should treat someone so horribly. That he is responsible for his actions. And possibly the hardest thing to recognize, that no matter what he told you what he felt for you wasn’t love. It was in those dark moments that you thought about Jungkook. You clung to those feelings and promised yourself that that was what love felt like.

And slowly, so slowly, you rebuilt your life. Then you moved back to Seoul because you couldn’t bear to be in the same city as that man. You never pursued any legal action, you were too exhausted. But you also knew that you’d likely be fighting a losing battle. You could tell your therapist wanted to hurt the man and see him in jail, but didn’t voice her opinions because ultimately they didn’t matter. Only your opinions mattered. You were the one who got to make decisions about your life.

Now back with the boys and in a city that you once loved, you are starting to feel better. You aren’t naive enough to think that your healed, in fact you think that you are broken, but you are no longer blaming yourself for being broken. There is something beautiful in being broken. At least that what you try to convince yourself.

You rush around your apartment, shoving things into closets and preparing for the boys who are coming in a few minutes. It will be the first time that all of the boys are coming over to your apartment together. You decided that you would host a dinner. It had been a month since you had gotten back to Seoul and you wanted to thank them for being there for you— even if they didn’t realize how much it meant to you.

When the door bell rings, you hesitate. You know it’s not true, but you can’t help but think that they will find something missing or think that you’re inadequate. You think that there will always be that little voice in your head that sounds like him. You shake your head and go to the door. You’d rather hear their voices.

Jungkook is standing there holding a bottle of wine. But Taehyung shoves the man out of the way at the last minute to pull you into a hug. Jungkook scowls and starts muttering threats. Hoseok slaps him on the shoulder before pulling you in for a hug, which makes you giggle. The boys immediately shut up and watch.

They love it when you laugh.

The dinner had been perfect and you were all sitting in front of the tv for a mario cart tournament when your phone rang. You didn’t think about it when you answered. That was your first mistake. You had gotten so used to the boys calling you. And if it wasn’t them it was probably your parents. They loved having you back in Seoul. They had missed you so much after they moved back to Seoul from the States.

“Jia.” His voice cut through the phone and it made you still. When you think back to this moment you won’t be able to help being a little disappointed in yourself. You had put so much work into getting better and into becoming stronger. Yet, all it took was one word to send you right back into that old version of yourself. The version that thought that what he felt for you was love. That’s what trauma does to you. No matter how much healing you do, you often can’t help some things from triggering you. You can’t always stop something having power over you. One day you will make sure that this man never holds any power over you, but until then you’ll always be scared of him.

The boys are so caught up in the race that they don’t realize. They will blame themselves for not realizing sooner, but how were they supposed to look out for something that they didn’t know was a threat.

You didn’t say anything, not to the boys and certainly not to him. Instead you stood up and shot the boys a little smile and walked to the balcony. You closed the door behind you and sunk into a chair. The boys that had seen the smile began to worry, it was their first warning, but they weren’t sure what to make of it. They weren’t sure how to help you.

“You left.” The anger in his voice startles you. It shouldn’t have. “You didn’t even say goodbye. I came home and you were gone. How could you do this to me!” You knew he didn’t actually want you to answer the question so you stayed quiet. You kept reminding yourself everything that your therapist had told you. You kept reminding yourself of everything that you told yourself in the mirror at night when the nightmares were particularly bad.

He was talking, but you weren’t listening. You hung up the phone. Even if you weren’t listening to him, you didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. There was a moment of panic after the line went dead that you were worried about what you had done. That you worried about what he would do to you. Then you looked around to remind yourself that you weren’t in the states anymore. You were in Seoul. He couldn’t hurt you anymore. You wouldn’t let him.

You started to laugh. It was a broken laugh that portrayed just how much that phone call had hurt you. The kind of laugh that screamed pain and trauma. But it felt so good. He had called you, ranting about who knows what, and you had just hung up. You hadn’t said a single word to the man and truthfully, he didn’t deserve anything. Despite all of the pain and knowing that the next few days were going to be hard days, you felt like you had taken back a little piece of your power. You had stripped him of his voice, just like he had taken yours. You had silenced him.

When the laughing stopped, the crying began. But this time it felt different. It didn’t feel like the world was ending, it felt like you were being reborn. You were mourning over something that had happened, rather than crying over something that was happening to you.

The boys sat there watching you cry. They had never felt so lost, so helpless. They wanted to fix it, but they didn’t know what happened or where to start. So they just stood there. Some of them were crying out of frustration and helplessness. Others had a heartbreaking, blank look to mask everything that they were feeling.

Yoongi turned to Jungkook. “Help her. Tell her that you love her and support her through whatever just happened.” Then he turned to the others and told them to get out. You didn’t need an audience. Besides, Jungkook would be able to help you.

If nothing else, Yoongi was sure of that. Jungkook would do anything you needed.

The boys shuffled out of the apartment, tossing worried looks in your direction, but when Yoongi leveled them with a glare they started moving. Some of them looked like they wanted to argue, but Yoongi again just glared at them and they accepted defeat. Yoongi is a difficult man to argue with.

Jungkook didn’t ask what was wrong. He wrapped you in his arms and took you inside. Then, he held you close until you stopped crying. By that time you were asleep and his shirt was wet. He held you close as you slept, afraid that if he let go you might start crying again. He held you close even after he fell asleep, his body intuitively knew that he never wanted to let go ever again.

When he woke up again, you were still asleep so he continued to hold you in his arms.

And when you woke up, you snuggled deeper into his chest. You felt him laugh which made you laugh too. “Are you okay?” His voice was deep, like he had just woken up and it made you want to look up and see what his hair looked like in the morning. But you stayed snuggled into his chest instead, not wanting to meet his eyes.

You nodded, but apparently that want enough for him because he pulled you up so he could see and asked again.

“Yeah, I’m feeling better.”You hesitated, but Jungkook could tell you wanted to say something so he stayed quiet and let you think. “I know that you want to know what happened, but I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Okay.” He didn’t look mad and that made you relax a little. “But whenever you’re ready. Any of us would be privileged to hear. We’re all here for you.”

“Why do you care?” It’s not that you didn’t know. You know that Jungkook loves you. You know that you love Jungkook, but there was that part of you that would never believe him until he said it out loud. And despite everything that you had gone through you wanted to believe it.

You had mourned the girl who lost everything in the states. You had mourned the girl that believed love was apologies and flowers to make up for missing your anniversary rather than for your anniversary. So, you were ready to move on and experience everything that love actually was. Doesn’t mean it didn’t terrify you though.

“I love you.” Jungkook’s voice was strong. A true declaration. “And I know that you love me too.”

“I can’t Jungkook.” God, it was everything you wanted to hear, but it also hurt to hear it. Because you were selfish. You wanted Jungkook to love you because you wanted to experience that love. Yet you also weren’t sure if you could say it back despite how you felt. The last time you told a man that you loved him, he explained that you loved too much. That it felt suffocating and you needed to be less. When you had cried he kissed you softly and apologized for being too harsh, stating that he had forgotten how soft you were. It had been a sugarcoated insult, and one you hadn’t noticed at the time because you were so desperate for affection. You had wanted him to love you so much that you missed the toxicity underneath his false apologies.

Jungkook makes a distressed noise and holds you tighter as he watches you spiral. “I can’t.” Your voice cracked, but neither of you moved. You couldn’t bring yourself to move and Jungkook didn’t want to move until he understood what you were telling him, but his heart was breaking because of how broken you sounded.

“I don’t want to love anyone again. I’ve always gotten hurt. And…” You hesitated because it was painfully to recall the words that had been thrown in your face. “My love is a burden. I am a burden.” You tore your eyes away from Jungkook, finding the floor because you were too humiliated to look at him. So, you didn’t see the devastation that crossed his face. You didn’t see the tears that welled up in Jungkook’s eyes when he realized what you were saying. He could tell that a part of you believed it and that was utterly devastating to Jungkook, it felt like he had just gotten punched in the gut.

You tried to get out of Jungkook’s arm, but he just held you closer. You started to feel like you were drowning in your own selfishness. You wanted to hear this and yet now you can’t face it. You had practically begged him to say it. You’ve never hated yourself more.

Just moments earlier you thought that you were ready, but now that the moments come you don’t feel ready at all. It’s cruel, but its true. Everyone feels prepared until you’re faced with it. It’s easier to feel ready compared to actually being ready.

“You aren’t a burden.” Jungkook tilted your face up so that he could see your eyes. He wanted to make sure that you were hearing him. You had this unbelievably annoying tendency to avoid all reassurance because self doubt was easier. That’s something many people may not realize. Some people have struggled for so long that they have normalized all their negative thoughts and that they are too scared to deviate from their normal, even for reassurance.

It was one of the main things that you were working on with your therapist before you left to Seoul.

You search Jungkook’s eyes for doubt or malice or literally anything that will reaffirm your own belief that while the world is a cruel place, people are even crueler. Deep down you know that you wouldn’t find any, not with Jungkook. But a part of you wants to be able to see that Jungkook is lying because then you could make yourself walk away and protect your heart, even though it may be from love. But instead you are stuck here looking at him. You find that you are wanting to believe him. You want him to be telling the truth because you don’t want to feel sad anymore.

That scares you more than anything else.

“You aren’t a burden.” Jungkook repeats his words because he can tell that your mind is beginning to get distracted and he really wants you to hear him. His hands cradle your face, softly rubbing your cheeks as you look up at him. It’s like he think that if he touches you with enough softness it may weaken your defenses enough to see how to fix everything. Even though deep down, he knows that this isn’t something that he can simply fix for you. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to.

You don’t know what to say to him. You’ve never heard someone tell you that you aren’t a burden. You aren’t sure what is expected of you. But then again, you think that is what he is trying to tell you. That there aren’t any expectations. There is no right way to respond. All of your possible responses are right. So you take the leap of faith.

You press your lips to his, trying to say everything that you don’t know how to vocalize. You don’t know how to say what you are thinking. You don’t even know what you are thinking, but you trust that Jungkook will be able to get the message. And he does because one hand slips to your waist, holding you even closer. You hadn’t thought that was possible.

You break away first, a shy smile on your lips and flushed cheek. He loves how close you both are. He loves that he can see the vulnerability in your eyes. It’s the first time since you were children that you are letting him in.

“I love you.” Your voice is soft, but it holds this sharpness to it that lets him know how serious you are. You never thought you’d ever be able to say that again. It isn’t just a declaration to Jungkook, but it’s also your own little act of defiance to your past self who thought that you would never recover. It’s defiance to the last man to hold your heart. The man who no longer owns any part of your heart.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” You murmur, unable to prevent yourself from apologizing. Jungkook understands, so he simply kisses the apology away. “I love you.”

“I love you so much.”