This little reaction piece is dedicated to the curvy girls out there who may have little tummies and jiggly bits that media does not represent. Not all of us have perfectly streamlined bodies and we should still appreciate our natural forms and dare I say love them for what they are. This little reaction also encompasses the idea of saree appreciation and cultural confidence. It will be all the individual BTS members’ reactions to different y/ns who are wearing different sarees. I am posting the reactions of Namjoon and Jin. Let me know if this piece is liked and I can also post the remaining members’ reactions. Hope all of you like it!
He saw her right as she was leaving the BigHit building. He felt as though he was in a movie and time had stopped. The weak evening sunlight hit the lady in all the right angles. She looked like an ethereal being as the saree she was draped in shimmered and specks of light bounced off the gold embedded in the voluminous garment. The lady was wearing a blue and dark pink saree with gold threading and she had paired it with long gold earrings and a thin gold chain. Namjoon was mesmerized and though he knew he had to get into his car and head home, he couldn’t rip his eyes off of her. The lady had skin the color of coffee and thick curly black hair that cascaded to her back. Her form was glorious: as the blue fabric hugged her wide hips and generous behind, while the pink jacket shrouded her breasts and ended at her natural waist. He could see a good amount of her midriff, but the saree covered her belly button. Her entire being shimmered: from her skin to her clothes to her jewelry.
As she walked closer down the street towards the entrance of the BigHit building, he wasn’t able to move even an inch out of the way---that’s how stunned she made him. As she tried to move past him through the door, he bumped into her and as she was about to slip from the sudden force of the contact, he grabbed her by her waist to keep her upright. Her scent engulfed him, a fragrance of citrus and sandalwood.
Then she looked up and realized who she bumped into. She panicked and urgently gasped, “I am so sorry I bumped into you. I really apologize. I wasn’t looking at where I was going”. Namjoon knew he had to respond to her and reassure her that it was alright but he couldn’t. He realized then only the physical proximity between them. One of his hands were on the skin of her waist which emitted a supple warmth. And he realized his other hand was cupping her bottom to keep her upright. She felt so soft and warm in his hands and her saree had slipped down just a little to reveal the soft pudge around her belly button. He felt attacked by how enticing her waist looked, with the saree fabric framing underneath her belly button. The unfiltered desire to squeeze that pudge in his hands and nibble and kiss into the supple skin around her little pooch ran through him.
As the lack of response prolonged for another minute with him holding her in the same position, she asked with a questioning glare, “Would you mind letting go of me? I appreciate the help but I think you can let go of me now.” Namjoon got flustered and turned really red, as he proceeded to let go of her and apologize, “I am so sorry. I was just stunned for a minute.” She looked up at him through her heavy fringe of eyelashes as her kohl lined big black eyes glanced up at him in confusion. “That’s ok, I guess. Thank you for letting my not fall. I will get going now.” He watched her as she turned around and walked towards the Film Editing wing of BigHit. Her saree had slipped so much as to reveal the small of her back, all golden skin and the feminine curve of her spine.
The rest of the boys walked into the room then, to see Namjoon looking at the girl still shocked and flustered. They looked towards the direction he was looking in. Hosoek exclaimed, “Oh, she looks so beautiful. She must’ve went to that friend’s wedding she was talking about.” Namjoon stared at Hosoek with a questioning gaze. How did he know this beautiful golden lady? And how did he himself not see her until now? Where had this goddess been hiding? He wanted to know everything. Who she was, what she liked to eat, where she was from, and most of all if she would let him worship her body. Hosoek continued to explain, “That’s y/n. She is actually from India and she came to translate and helps edit videos for us. She’s also the one who translates for us in interviews. She studied linguistics and different languages and is actually a professional translator. She was supposed to go to her Indian friend’s wedding today and so she’s dressed up.”
As y/n saw another person from the film editing department, she turned around towards the boys as she was talking to the colleague. They also stared at her in wonder as she was dressed so differently from what they were used to. They had never seen an Indian girl in a saree. The sun once again aided in showcasing her beauty as it caught onto her gold embellishments and jewelry. She literally glowed in the haze of the sun and as she smiled at her colleague, Namjoon could feel himself drooling and his heart beating so loudly in his chest. Even the other boys blushed as they stared at the way the saree wrapped around her lush form.
She caught onto how all of them were staring soon enough. And shock and panic filtered through her as she felt shy at how they were continuously staring at her form. She quickly finished talking to her colleague and scurried off to get away from their heavy gaze. But she only succeeded in showing of the beautiful small of her back and generous bum. Namjoon groaned in appreciation at the way the sunlight continuously caught onto the shimmering material, highlighting her voluptuous form. He had it bad. He had to get to know her. She was enthralling. Maybe he could contrive a way to meet with her. He would just have to pretend he needed help translating a video to English. Anything to get to know this beautiful lady.
Kim Seokjin prided himself in being a gentleman. A man of true quality, chivalry, and abundant handsomeness. But as of now, he felt the farthest from a gentleman. Maybe he was being creepy but for once in his life he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t help himself. All the members were in the elevator with him and as they were about to get out at floor 5, the elevator stopped at floor 3 as another person was about to enter. He usually merely glanced at woman and then looked away as was respectful. But he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering the length of this woman’s body as she stepped into the elevator.
His eyes widened as shock as he saw her ensemble. She was wearing a saree, something unheard of in Korea. Her silk saree was a cream white with pink pastel flowers littering the fabric. She had on diamond earrings and a thin silver chain with a diamond pendant. Her saree had an open back framing caramel colored skin and her midriff was exposed to just above her belly button. Her jacket clung to her small breasts and then her midriff sloped out to her wide hips as the saree draped to encompass her butt.
Even as she had on heels, she barely came up to his chin. Her skin looked so beautiful enveloped in the saree. As she turned her back towards them completely, Jin almost choked as he could see the expanse of skin exposed to show her delicate neck and back. He could even see the feminine curve of the small of her back. She was magnificent and he hadn’t ever seen her in this building. All the other members in the elevator couldn’t help staring as well. Even Jungkook couldn’t rip his gaze from her. Jin saw the redness in Jungkook’s cheeks as he perused the lady’s body. Jin got irritated. Why was Jungkook looking at her like that? Something about the lady made him want to make her his. He felt possessive even though he didn’t even know her.
Something felt so overwhelmingly feminine and at the same time powerful about the lady in front of him. Her stance was one of calm confidence as she stood ramrod straight but with an open posture. As she was supposed to step off the elevator, he could see her pull something from her bag. Then he realized it was a stethoscope. She pulled the instrument out and walked towards the Fitness and Physiotherapy part of the BigHit building. One of the physical trainers coming running to her as she stepped out of the elevator, rapidly exclaiming to her in Korean about how there was another injured trainer with severe pain in his leg.
The lady pulled on a white coat and proceeded to explain to him, “It might be compartment syndrome. I’m going to have to treat it immediately.” She walked hastily away towards the department and Jin stared on entranced by her. So she was a doctor and she was mind numbingly beautiful. He made a plan in his head to give himself a minor injury and go to get treated by her. He felt like he had just met his future wife, and no way was she going to just get away from him so easily.
y/n has been in love with Jungkook since their Chemistry class freshman year but he’s got so many girls after him, he’d never give her the time of day. Besides, she’s his best friend’s nerdy cousin so she’s off limits anyway. Right?
Throw in a costume party, a catfish, and a whole lot of crackhead and see if these fools ever find their way to each other.
Hoseok X Jin X Reader
Synopsis: 15 year old Kim Yn has her fair share of poor choices and bad days. She used to get through them with her brother, Namjoon, and their friends, Yoongi and Hobi. When they dismiss her dream, she’s determined to make her voice heard and prove her resilience. Luckily she meets a few new friends a long the way that help her become bulletproof.
Hoseok X Reader
she’s in love with the boy he used to be. he’s turned into a toxic fuckboi who think she’ll always be by his side. what will she do when the one person he hates comes into her life, offering her much more than friendship?
Right Thru Me
Rap Line X Reader
frat boys, raging parties, terrible exes, and a friend group that somehow makes every day feel like a lifetime of adventure. as if that’s not enough, throw in the confusion of falling in love with 3 boys at the same time
What You need
Jimin X Reader
summary: Park Jimin is a fuckboy through and through. It’s a well-known fact. His friends know it, the men and women he hooks up with know it, and people who’ve only heard whisperings of his name know it. But what if there’s more than meets the eye? What if that’s only a small part of him? What if…in your endeavor to find out more, you find out more than you bargained for?
So Show Me, I’ll Show You
Yoongi X Reader
Description: Seemingly out of the blue, y/n packs up everything to move halfway around the world to teach English in the heart of Seoul. You plan to keep your head down, work hard, and avoid anything that might let a past you would rather forget catch up with you. You aren’t expecting anything but a fresh start and a chance to breathe. Maybe that’s why you’re so reckless when a beautiful idol singer walks into your favorite cafe and strikes up a conversation, consequences be damned.
Taehyung X Reader
summary: in which taehyung hears background music whenever something is about to happen, and when he meets y/n she just thinks he’s weird until she starts to hear the same music.
Yoongi X Reader
recently divorced & looking for a new producer you’re inroduced to the seemingly stoic and hardworking min yoongi. at first it seems like he hates you but slowly he begins to warm up, showing you who he really is. how could you not fall for the caring, talented and amazingly devoted father?
You Broke Me First
Jungkook X Reader
Y/n and Jimin have been best friends since they were five. Along the way of their friendship, y/n happens to fall in love with said bestfriend. Will she ever tell him? sure… when she’s six feet under. This is a secret that she’s prepared to take to the grave. Even if she believes that Jimin is the only guy for her, she’s convinced herself that he does not and will not feel the same. So she keeps quiet and copes with her feelings the best way that she can. Then comes this bunny smiled boy who doesn’t believe in staying in the background. Jungkook wants to make the best of his life and live on with no regrets. When Jungkook finds out y/n’s dilemma, he goes out of his way to set the two up together as he believes that there’s absolutely no way that Jimin doesn’t have feelings for her. What’s the emotion that brings out unknown feelings more than any other? jealousy. Let’s hope, for the sake of y/n, that Jungkook’s idea goes according to plan.
When the Party’s Over
Jimin X Reader
y/n has just returned to Seoul after four years attending university abroad, much to the delight of her family and friends but when she meets her cousin, Jin’s, employees/roommates/best friends, a secret she’s kept for years resurfaces.
Will her budding interest in one Park Jimin survive the fallout?
-trigger warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of alcohol, mentions of assault
When you woke up, he was sitting next to you, smiling fondly. A stranger in disguise, now cold as ice. You hate that you can’t remember him, but you hate even more that you can’t remember what you used to mean to him.
Word count: 12k
Warnings: smut, mentions of death, body issues, spirituality.
Read Eden’s sleep while listening to its own Spotify playlist
You feel heavy, burning, writhing on top of something you’ve never touched before. There’s something covering you, caging you like a bird, and it’s soft, but also unknown and so scary. Soft flesh choking your throat, all the colours of the world blinding you— what is this thing sneaking into you that is so strange and yet so relieving to feel inside?
But then you feel it, the soothing sensation tangling with what feels like an extension of your being; the beast ripping you open calms down, and you finally take a hold on the flesh around you.
“Hey.” A man is sitting next to you, smiling fondly. You look down and notice he’s holding a hand – a hand that belongs to you. “You finally woke up. How are you feeling?”
Your voice comes out painfully dry. “What?”
Does he know you? Do you know him? – you don’t even know yourself. You can’t bring yourself to remember anything, just trying it is terribly painful and makes something inside of you creep down into your soul.
“What?” you repeat with a frown. The light coming from the windows is too much for your eyes.
“It’s me, Yoongi. Don’t you—?”
He shuts up as soon as he sees the tears running down your cheeks. Concerned, the man leans over you and tries to wipe them away. His touch is soothing, but a part of your brain tells you to push him away, and so you do, with a swipe of your hand. Not only his face overall, especially his eyes turn colder as they stare at you in search of… something.
“Where…?” you manage to murmur. The vibrations coming from your throat tickle, it makes you shiver. “Where am I?”
But he’s too engrossed in your eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here…”
“Tell me—” Your hand cups his over your cheek. “Answer me, where am I? What’s— what’s going on? Yoongi?”
“Yes?” he asks hopefully.
“You said your name is Yoongi. Who are you, Yoongi? What is this place? Why do I feel— constricted?”
“You don’t— you don’t know me?” Yoongi asks then, and his face drops again.
You don’t. You don’t remember anything, actually; weirdly enough, your mind is completely blank, even if you can talk, or move a bit, or even get out of the hospital bed. This world feels familiar, but only because you feel like you’ve seen it before. Your feet step on the floor with confidence, one that something deep inside of you doesn’t have.
“What am I doing here?” you groan.
Why can’t you remember anything? Your heart starts to beat crazily in your chest. It hurts, the air hurts, your body hurts. With trembling fingers, he clutches your hand in his, and it suddenly calms you down.
“It’s okay,” Yoongi suddenly says with a soft smile that soon vanishes. “Come find me when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”
“Ready for what—?”
“No need, I’ll just check on the—” Another man walks into the room, looking over his shoulder as he says goodbye to his colleague and closes the door behind him – only to gasp as soon as he sees you sitting up on the bed. “God—! Oh, God, what a fright. I— Mr Min? When did she wake up?” he asks then, walking up to you. “Is she talking?”
“I’m talking, yeah,” you grumble, feeling the ache in your gums.
Doctor Park blinks. “Uh, fully talking? We’ll need to run a few tests… So, she’s completely in her senses? I’m so glad— oh, your family will be so happy to hear the news,”
With a tilt of his chin, Yoongi gets up, eyes never leaving yours. It’s almost like he has to tear his body away from your closeness, and you sort of feel the same way. You don’t want him to step away, can’t bear it. Finally, he addresses the doctor:
“She, uh… She doesn’t remember anything,” he mutters, to the other man’s surprise.
“My mind is blank. What is this place? What happened to me?” you groan, trying to get someone to listen to you.
“All right, all in good time,” the doctor sighs. “Mr Min, please leave us a minute. Ma’am, I do have to call for your family; your mother and, uh, boyfriend are both here. They both got asked to rest a bit.”
Doctor Park eyes Yoongi to see if he reacts, but the man remains unmoved. With that, the former leaves and the latter waits for a chance to look at you thoroughly before saying goodbye.
Yoongi halts and turns around. “You don’t need to pretend. It’s too soon. But don’t forget—”
Come find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.
Rehab takes months. You don’t remember a thing about your life, can’t recognise anyone – the woman who claims to be your mother, whatever that means, cries as she talks to the doctor. Your boyfriend arrives with a bouquet and a wide smile, but it drops the second he’s told you don’t know who he is. Your boss has been contacted, nobody expected you to live, it’s a medical miracle. And you still fail to feel one with your body.
Oh, how you hate your body.
Your skin, your bones, your muscles. Your eyes and your teeth, your gums, your little skull; they all are so weak and pathetic, feel like they’re wrapping something much worthier. Something you don’t understand with this stupid, memoryless brain of yours.
After a two-year coma, the doctor said, it’s completely normal to feel disoriented.
While that doesn’t comfort your family, it does make you feel a little better. Amidst this sea of empty feelings and moments when you think a bird is trying to burst through your chest and escape, knowing that it’s normal to feel this way makes it a little more bearable. Even as your body recovers and your mind doesn’t.
“Well, there is no head trauma,” he continues, “that could explain the memory loss. Even after such an accident, most patients with amnesia usually recover after a few months.”
You remember the first time your boyfriend touched you after you woke up. He grabbed your hand with a tender smile, like his life was suddenly all good and fixed, and told you he loved you. Guilt creeps up your throat as you remember how indifferent it made you feel – to be loved so unconditionally.
Still, all you can think about was him.
Min Yoongi, the man who was with you when you woke up. Doctor Park said he came to visit you every day, called you by a different name, dodged your family like a ninja. A lover, maybe. All the medical staff just figured you had been cheating on your boyfriend with him.
No need to ruin the life of a comatose in case they ever woke up, uh? Even now, no one else knows much about him.
“So, she’ll never… remember us? I’m her mother! She must remember me somewhere in her brain! I gave birth to her, I raised her!”
You listen without much attention to your mother’s cries on the other side of the door.
Doctor Park tries to comfort her. “Well, that’s… We don’t know that, ma’am. Her memory loss could be due to so many different reasons, emotional even. It doesn’t need to be directly related to the car crash.”
But none of this feels yours. The only thing you’ve felt connected with ever since you woke up is Yoongi’s touch, as he’s been missing since that very same day. He just… stormed off the room, the hospital, your life, arrived with answers and left with them too. And it still feels like he knows something you don’t; maybe you are having an affair with him, after all?
You need to see Yoongi. He’s got the answers you’re looking for, of that you’re sure. You just need to go and look for them, look for him.
First things first, you need to get out of this unblemished, white loophole.
You know you have a flat somewhere in the city, you hadn’t moved in to live together with your boyfriend yet. Now that’s never gonna happen, you don’t even know the man. He cries a bit when you tell him you’re moving back as soon as you’re done with rehab, and your mother tries to convince you to stay with her, move back in, but you refuse – you don’t know these people.
“She’s a bit confused, but otherwise she’s improved a lot. Except for her memory, that is… I’m sorry, I really am. I wish there was something else I could do.”
“But she can’t remember her own family! How can she get discharged and considered well enough to leave? Is this even legal?”
“Sir, she’s… She’s a legal adult, no longer on active treatment, and her condition is stable; she’s ready to return to her job, fully able to continue with her life as it was before. If it were not for her memory loss, it would be as if there had never been an accident. It’s unusual, but you have to accept it.”
“So there’s nothing we can do? Do I have to stand by and watch my daughter abandon me?”
“Ma’am, it’s her decision. So, no, there’s nothing you can do.”
“I refuse! She’s my daughter!”
“She could report you for harassment if you’re not careful. Please be patient. My advice, as a professional, is to wait. Wait until she recovers her memory, don’t push her, don’t follow her around – she needs all the peace and quiet in the world to recover from it.”
“She’s my daughter—!”
There she goes, your mother is crying again. Doctor Park, the angel he is, tries to comfort her, wants to clear the way for you as you get ready to leave the hospital. How you wish there was something connecting you to her, even the familiarity of her touch, but you can’t get near her without provoking a dramatic scene, not yet. Now, your very own flat awaits you, the place you used to call home. Will you recognise it? Probably not.
“The plans of the complex have to be sent to the City Council before we can continue with the felling, but Mrs Kim doesn’t want you to push yourself, you should go slowly.”
You have no idea what you’re doing, your heart was going to burst the first time you set foot in your office, but it’s as if your body remembers what you used to do; an awfully weird feeling, this body you hate so much seems to know about your life far better than you do, and it pisses you off to the point that, sometimes, your fingers tingle, almost craving to tear your skin with your nails.
“It’s okay, I’m doing well.” You see your colleague standing at your desk, almost hesitant. “Anything else, Jungkook-ssi?”
“Sorry, I don’t wanna be nosy, but— is it true that you don’t remember your family? Or your boyfriend?” he finally asks, as if you’ve asked to spit out his lungs and serve them on a silver plate for you.
“I— uh— that’s private, sorry. I’m trying to deal with it.”
“Your mother must be heartbroken…”
You sigh. “I know.”
“Oh, sorry,” he rushes to say, making you let out a tired chuckle, “that surely doesn’t help. Well, take your time with the reports, it’s okay if it takes you a bit longer than usual. And we’re eager to help in any way, just in case… you don’t remember.”
“I will, eventually, don’t worry,” you tell him, but you’re rather comforting yourself.
You hope so. It should happen, you should remember your family, your colleagues, your life – why don’t you, though? Why can you move your body perfectly well, recovered from the crash as if it had never happened, but can’t remember even a single day from your past? You don’t know a thing about yourself. What’s your favourite colour? And your favourite show? When did you get your first job, or your first kiss? Were you a good student of a rebellious brat? Who are you? Who are you? Who the fuck are you?
As always when you ask yourself those questions, you think of him.
You haven’t seen that stranger, Min Yoongi, in a while. It’s not like you have a reason to, though – unlike everyone else, you haven’t run into him yet, your life hasn’t brought him back. Why would he even go visit you just to disappear? You don’t even have his contact saved on your phone, you checked as soon as you managed to unlock it.
But his touch—
His touch felt like home. Soothing and warm, it’s the only thing that has felt familiar ever since the accident, and not only to your body but also to your mind, to your heart, to your soul.
It feels like your chest shrinks at the thought of him. To take Min Yoongi out of your mind for some time, you get on with work. By the time you’re done, it’s past nine, took you longer, brain not functioning as it should. It’s okay, that’s what your boss says. That’s what everybody says.
Waiting for the bus, you pull out your mobile; twelve missed calls from your mother, five from your boyfriend, three from your sister, a few messages from some of your cousins and friends scattered in between.
The answer is always the same – if you bother to reply: “I’m trying. Please, don’t contact me. This too is hard for me.”
“Are you getting on the bus?”
You turn around and see an old lady waiting to see if she can get on. “Oh” – you take a look at the screen. Yes, it’s your bus – “yeah, but— you first. It’s all right. I had my mind somewhere else.”
“It’s okay,” she replies with a smile and gets on right before you.
Since you’re not going to take the last free seat from an old lady who can barely stand up for longer than five minutes, you get on the bus and find some room in a corner, facing the big window. It starts to rain almost instantly, the sound of the raindrops tapping the glass flowing through your mind. For a second, you picture they’re tapping the leaves of a tree instead, there’ll be dew the next morning.
The shadow of a familiar smell sneaks into your nose, you try to follow it. Don’t leave, stay with me. But suddenly you’re opening your eyes again to a world of concrete and smoke.
You feel like throwing up.
With your eyes fixed on the window, following the droplets as they slide down the glass. The bus stops, the raindrops reach the bottom and mix with the rest. You’re jealous of them and look away.
Next stop: Dongincheon Station. The doors open, and a few people get off.
Just that second you see a platinum blonde shadow, it reminds you of him almost instantly; Yoongi enters your field of vision, your body reacts on its own. Or is it something deeper inside of you that makes you get off the bus even though the doors are closing already?
But the back of your coat gets stuck, couldn’t make it in time. Someone inside the bus warns the driver while you pull and pull, looking up to see if he’s gone – and he is.
The doors open, you can finally step away as it drives off. And you stand there, passengers passing by and bumping into you, but you don’t notice, getting soaked under the heavy rainfall. Come find me when you’re ready. Ready for what, you asked him, and you still don’t know. Why would you? You don’t know anything at all, don’t even know your body, your past, this lingering feeling in the tip of your fingers.
Why does he have to be so mysterious, though? Min Yoongi could have perfectly told you who he is, what role he had in your life before you forgot him. But no, he had to be all secretive about it and leave as soon as Doctor Park got him the chance to.
You have to be ready first, he said. Then you could go to him.
“It’s two in the morning, why don’t you go home? You should rest.”
Jungkook places another mug of steamy, caffeine-filled coffee in front of you anyway and sighs. You know he’s worried about you; what you don’t understand is why. Were you such good colleagues in the past? Ugh, how you hate that you don’t know these things. Maybe you are best friends, maybe he has a crush on you. Who knows? Certainly not you.
“I’m fine, thank you,” you say with a soft chuckle. “You can go home if you want, though – there’s no need to wait for me.”
He presses his lips together and finally musters the courage to grab a nearby chair and sit with you. “Are you, really? I know, with the memory loss and all, you’ve… changed. We all understand. But don’t you think you’re—? What’s this? What are you doing?”
Oh, he’s pointing at the countless documents scattered on your desk, papers, pictures, notes written in a hurried and almost frantic way.
You rush to keep them away from Jungkook’s prying eyes. “They’re, uh— they’re nothing, just stuff,” you babble, grabbing them, but he manages to get one and take a look. “Don’t! It’s personal!”
“I know this guy,” Jungkook says in surprise.
“You— you do?”
At his words, you can only stare at him in disbelief. Does he? Jungkook knows Min Yoongi? So, he is part of your life. Maybe not the most public figure, but it’s not some feverish imagination of yours. Yoongi is real, and he does have answers to your unspoken questions, those that live only in your heart, in this empty body.
“Uh, yeah,” the boy continues, “I’d see him from time to time at the hospital… Why? Do you remember him?”
“He… was with me when I woke up.”
The following sound that Jungkook has you arching your eyebrows at him. “Nothing, just… I just thought he was a, hm, special friend? I think I even saw your boyfriend around asking about him. The medical staff’s behaviour was a bit suspicious, I must say.”
“He thinks I was having an affair with Min Yoongi?” you murmur to yourself, looking again. Can it be true? It would explain his secretive behaviour. “Then he must know things about him.”
“He was pretty thorough with his investigation,” Jungkook says with a chuckle.
With what you’ve found out, you thank him, gather your stuff, and storm off before he can add anything else.
It’s rushed, might not work, but now you need to know what he could’ve possibly found out about Min Yoongi, so you take out your phone and text your boyfriend. Need to talk, can I come over? You just hope he won’t get his hopes too high; you don’t want to break his heart. Honestly, the only thing you want is to find out what happened during the car crash, and why Yoongi told you to find him once you ‘are ready’.
Of course, I’ll text you the address. I imagine you don’t remember.
“Hi,” he says with a broad smile, almost out of breath as soon as he opens the door. “Uh, come in, please. It wasn’t… It wasn’t hard to get here? Being past midnight and all. Did you get a taxi?”
“Ah, yeah, I did. And thank you, I’m sorry about the time,” you mutter, walking into the small entrance hall.
The flat is cute, elegant, but it doesn’t raise any memories. It’s like you’re stepping on unknown territory. But he’s quick to step aside to let you in and see you to the living room, where you take a seat in front of him.
“Namjoon, listen, I’ve been thinking—”
“Sorry, but could I go first?” he cuts you off, and you nod. “Thank you… The thing is, I’ve been thinking too. And I’m sorry, so sorry. I totally ignored what you needed at that moment, peace and quiet, what the doctor said. But I was so happy to see you wake up.” Namjoon’s voice breaks, he fights back tears. “We were told you probably wouldn’t. But now I understand everything. This is… This is a new chance; I’ll wait for you to get your memory back. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
“And if I never get them back?” you ask him as your voice breaks too.
“You will, I’m sure. Doctor Park said it’s most likely due to something emotional and not brain damage. I’ll be with you, by your side, waiting… But, uh, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
You take his hands with yours – you need to do it before you speak. “Namjoon, I… I don’t wanna make promises. I might never recover my memory, don’t forget that. And until it happens, I need to… sort things out. My job, my flat, my body, my life… I need to sort them all out.”
“So— you need to sort me out too?”
You nod weakly and look away. Your eyes fix everywhere; on your hands as you fidget, on your feet, and on the carpet under them too. You stare down at your shoes, and then you look up back at him, and God, your heart shrinks with such pity; because you do pity Namjoon, and your mother, and your sister, and everyone in your life who has just lost a loved one.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “but it’s better than a lie, right?”
Namjoon lets out a breathless chuckle filled with a sense of defeat. “I guess? I don’t know. This really is the last reason why I ever imagined you’d break with me.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.
“Well, I— hm, I… imagined things during your time at the hospital. I know it’ll make me look like I’m some sort of lunatic, but” – Namjoon takes a deep breath, he’s laughing at his own absurdity – “I thought you were cheating on me and that this… whole amnesia thing was just a ploy to ditch me and go back to—”
Namjoon freezes when you finish his sentence, he cringes at the thought that you do remember him, or that he’s been in your new life enough to make himself known – this man who has been giving him the headache of his life.
“You remember him?” he asks then with a broken voice.
But you shake your head. “No, not at all… He just was sitting next to me when I woke up.”
“Did he— did he say anything?”
Come find me when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.
“Nothing important,” you reply softly and shake your head, “just… his name, and how happy he was that I was awake – until I told him I didn’t know him. But Doctor Park walked in before he could say anything else, and he just stormed off— Namjoon, you have to answer me honestly.” Your boyfriend looks into your eyes with determination. “Was I— was I really cheating on you?”
“That’s what I first thought.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “But, uh, I don’t think so? Forgive me for this, but I… dug a bit into his life— well, I actually asked my lieutenant to pull some strings for me.”
Your voice sounds indifferent – you don’t really care that he was suspicious enough about your presumed infidelity to look into someone he doesn’t know. Especially not when it comes in so handy. If you had any memory of Namjoon, perhaps – of your shared snippets of life, of your love story – his mistrust would’ve definitely offended you, but you don’t really feel anything about it. Just… the satisfaction of a load of work off your shoulders.
Namjoon gets up just leave and come back with some folders. “Well, I didn’t really find out anything extraordinarily weird about him; he’s from Daegu, rough childhood. The only thing that could possibly connect him with you is that he almost died of an overdose a week or so after your accident, and then he moved to Seoul, changed his name, got some part-time jobs here and there, and moved to an old cabin in the forest for which your company was sued for arson.”
“The forest?” The mention of that place provokes some kind of spark in your head. It’s painful, stings, leaves your temples throbbing. Namjoon leans into you in concern. “I’m all right…”
“The only thing,” he continues, “extraordinary about all of this is… When he arrived, the first thing he did was look into every single hospital in town asking for you until he found you. He was using a different name… I don’t know, that’s all I could find out.”
The forest. The forest. The forest, the forest, the forest. It’s vivid in your head, you can even hear the chirping, the wind breezing through the trees and their green leaves. The mere memory of it soothes your headache like it’s nothing, like the warm hug of a home. You’re silent as a tear, alerting Namjoon, rolls down your cheek.
“Hey, are you okay—?”
His touch. Yes, his touch, that’s it, that’s the feeling. Yoongi’s touch as he held your hand when you woke up, that’s home.
“I—” You get up out of a sudden, making him flinch. “Do you know where Min Yoongi works all those part-time jobs? I think I’ll have to talk to him – he’s the only one who might know something about… this.”
“Uh, yeah, it’s all in the folders. He usually works the morning or afternoon shift in a repair shop in Incheon, and the rest of the day he works as a delivery driver.”
“Okay, thank you. For everything…” you tell him with a pitying smile before you snap out of your own sadness and look around. “I think it’s time I leave; you must be tired, so you’d better get some sleep. I’ll take these with me—”
Namjoon shakes his head. “It could be dangerous, let me go with you—”
“No—! I mean,” you say and take a deep breath, “he’s been in a room with me comatose, that was a pretty good chance to hurt me if he wanted to. And I’ll go see him during his shift, there’ll be other customers around, I won’t be completely alone with him. Trust me.”
You manage to convince him that you’ll be all right, even if you honestly have no idea. But the forest— the forest is the first thing since you woke up that feels familiar, it’s the only thing sparkling in some dusty corner of your head, telling you that there is something there, that you could get your memories back if you just dig into this trail of footprints enough.
And those footprints undoubtedly lead to Min Yoongi.
Next stop: Dongincheon Station.
You get off the bus, this time knowing you’ll find him soon.
Even though it’s not raining anymore, the air still smells like rain, soft and damp, refreshing. Something you love about this part of the city is all the green areas and the waterfront; it all brings in such a smell, you can breathe in and fill up your lungs with it.
Taking out your phone, you check the address one last time before heading to the repair shop. It’s only a few streets away, which is probably why you once saw Yoongi passing by the bus stop.
The door chimes as you open it. The knob feels cold against your touch and the shop is empty, with no heating at all in the middle of this impassable winter. Maybe the job gets him all warmed up, but you’re literally trembling. You don’t like the cold, not at all – not when it’s so dry and painful.
You look for him around the small shop—
There he is, silent and observant; he heard you walk in. And you may not know a thing about your life before the accident, you may not feel you belong into your body, you may not understand this feeling, like your whole skin tingles and itches, begging you to rip it off and set you free – but you know Min Yoongi does.
“Hi,” you murmur, almost out of breath. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest. “Took me a while to find you, you know.”
Yoongi takes one last look down at the papers he’s revising before he stands up from the counter stool in silence. Behind him is a half-assembled table of beautiful mahogany wood. It looks heavy. However, he seems to know his way so well in this place that you’re sure it’s no inconvenience to his rather petite build.
“Do you remember me now, Y/N?” he asks half-heartedly, as if he already knows the answer.
He lets out a breathy chuckle; perhaps he was already expecting it, and it makes you feel a little bit better – for once, someone is aware of your current limits. Even if your wording provokes an aftertaste of hope in his eyes, in the way his shoulders rise slightly.
“And what does that mean?” Yoongi asks again, still calm.
“I, hm— well,” you babble, and you immediately laugh at yourself in embarrassment. “Ugh, sorry, it’s just— I don’t wanna sound like a psycho.”
“Just tell me— but, uh, do you want to take a seat? Sorry, looks like I left my manners at home,” he blurts out too, suddenly nervous. What will you tell him now? Do you remember him, just in a different way? He doesn’t know what to expect at all. “A drink?” You shake your head with a soft smile as you sit down on the chair he pointed to. “I, hm, well— I’m all ears.”
Unlike with Namjoon, with Min Yoongi you feel you can tell him everything, and so you do; from the lack of memories to the strange feeling you had when you first heard about the forest. You do leave the story about his touch for the last, and you tell him a bit embarrassed, but he… understands.
Again, it’s the forest that triggers him. “Have you been there… since you woke up?” You shake your head again. “I might have to show you, then.”
“Well, I don’t know you.”
“Uh, yeah, you technically don’t…” he mutters to himself. Technically?
“I need to know first” – your eyes wander around the small workshop before you can muster the courage to look at him – “what were we? What was my relationship with you before the car crash? How do you know me? Why do you call me by a different name?”
“I was your lover,” Yoongi finally says, “before the accident.”
Oh. So, you were cheating on Namjoon. With a guy who’d otherwise be totally unconnected to you. Bummer.
“— but then you died.”
Your heart stops. “Uh, sorry, I did what?” You feel yourself over your clothes, wondering if this is hell. “But— I feel pretty much alive! Look, there’s— there’s blood running through my veins, and I’m breathing…!” you cry then. What on earth is he saying? You show him your wrists again. “I’m alive, look!”
“You’re alive now,” Yoongi says as if it’s not obvious. “Thanks to that body, which is obviously not enough for you.”
Wow, now you understand this whole thing even less.
It must show in the way you stare at him because Yoongi sighs again and murmurs, “I love you, and you love me too. But it’s not this” – he points at your whole – “that I love, that’s new for me too. It’s what’s inside. What do humans call it? Your soul.”
Humans? What is he then, the ghost of Christmas yet to come?
“You said that hearing about the forest made something… spark in your head, right?” he continues. “Then let’s go there. If my theory is correct, it will bring back your memories.”
“I’ll remember my life? My mother, my boyfriend, my job, my past?” you ask, dumbfounded. There’s no particular excitement in your voice, but there is eagerness.
A longing for this suffering to stop.
“No, I told you those are not your memories.”
So… those are the memories from… the person this body belonged to? To a name that sounds too foreign, to the person beloved by those you see as nothing but strangers—? But then, what are your memories? Whom did you use to be?
“You’re just like me,” Yoongi says, and for a second you think he was reading your mind. “This body, it’s just a shell, something I borrowed for you to someone who’d already left this realm.”
Your lover, Yoongi is your lover. And you’re not even human, it seems. But— somehow, it makes sense. Every single second you’ve gone through wishing you could tear your body apart and fly away, thinking that the world around you was dirty and coarse – it all makes sense now, finally. Maybe you’ve sorted things out at last.
And then you look up at him. The face is unfamiliar, but what’s lying underneath… feels like home, this aura he emits.
“Since the moment I woke up…” you murmur, hands cupping his cheeks. Yoongi goes stiff at your touch, “you’re the only thing I could think about.”
He nuzzles your palm anyway. “I was so happy, I’ve been waiting for so long, my love—”
“I hate that I can’t remember how much I love you, but somehow, I know I do,” you breathe against his lips, hovering over them. The almost touch makes the both of you dizzy. You crave him. “You’re my only beacon now, Yoongi.”
This is your breaking point; in an instant, you throw yourself onto his lips, seeking a warmth you never knew you were missing. But he feels just right between your arms, his skin feels just right against your hands, his scent, his voice, his everything – this is what you had been missing all along.
Yoongi hurriedly kisses you back, brushing your lips together. It feels like he’s exhaling smoke through his pores, this pent-up yearning. With both hands cupping his cheeks, you deepen the contact, suck on his tongue as you feel your skin heating up.
Touching him feels more intense than any other person has ever done. Like electricity, it runs down your fingers and pools in your lower back, leaving you hungry for more.
Reluctantly, you stop kissing him, but your lips are still pressed against his; you can’t let go of him, apparently. It’s scary but oh, so soothing. Finally. “There’s something I still don’t understand… How exactly did I die?”
“You were killed,” he grunts, “by the minions of the woman who used to live in your body. She killed you… so I took it for you.”
“But— but I’m only a construction manager,” you reply with a puzzled chuckle.
With a heavy sigh, Yoongi pulls away from you. He looks defeated, and it breaks your heart to think it’s because you referred to yourself as her, the woman he hates so much. But it’s not that— no, he’s mad at himself, mad at everything he’s made you go through.
“Will you let me show you now?”
Since it has been raining all night, the leaves are still crunching under your feet as you walk uphill. Yoongi walks in front of you, showing you the way. You can already see the beginnings of the forest ahead; the smell is unmistakable, fills your lungs like honey, like a thirsty throat gulping down water. It only grows the closer you get.
“How are you feeling?”
“A bit out of breath,” you reply with a chuckle. “I don’t know… It’s weird, the tingling. And my head hurts.”
Well, it’s better than nothing. Perhaps it means you are getting closer to something important – Yoongi seems sure that it’ll work, at least.
“It’s okay,” he whispers and takes your hand.
Again, his touch sends shivers down your spine, and the lump in your throat softens. You feel like crying for a second, due to the crippling pressure on your temples as you walk into the forest or because you don’t remember a gentler touch than his.
“I cried here too” – Yoongi’s voice snaps you out of your trance, you’re crying – “I mourned you here. The forest,” he murmurs, “reminds me of you.”
Yoongi sighs. “It connected me to you while I waited. This, this was all you, it was all part of you. Every tree, every droplet of water from the streams, the soil beneath our feet – they’re your body more than this bag of flesh and bones will ever be.”
You know that. Deep down, you already know that, felt it in your soul ever since you woke up. This is not your body, you don’t belong there; you belong here, in the forest, with him.
“But this is what I am now,” you reply with a soft voice. “This bag of flesh and bones is all I am now.”
And you lock eyes with him.
It’s less violent than you thought. A sweet trail of memories, different by way of a thought, seeps into your brain. There are no images, no smells, no sounds, but you’re certain that whatever it is that you feel when you’re close to Yoongi – that’s flooding your memory. And then there’s the forest, engrained in your very nature, in your very soul. That’s when the sounds come in; the birds chirping, the breeze blowing softly between nests of leaves and branches.
But then you feel a sting, and you frown in confusion.
Yoongi lets go of your hand as you walk past him to continue to observe your surroundings. The deeper you go into the greenery, the darker it turns. Suddenly, the trees are black, the sky is a greyish red as an inferno-like sunset sinks into the horizon, there are no more streams of burbling water.
Your corpse, he’s showing you your corpse. All these ashes scattered on the soil, this burnt hell – this is you.
“That bitch,” you whimper, “she killed me.”
The headache worsens, and you almost fall on your knees.
Now you remember the pain, the way you burnt down to your death. The betrayal. A shiver goes down your spine, you no longer see black, eyes presented instead with visions of flames, red tongues devouring everything around them.
You didn’t have blood back then, but you bled. You couldn’t shed tears back then, but you cried. You didn’t have a body back then, but they crushed you, and they killed you. You were killed.
Warm fingers wrap around your hand, pressing tightly. The pain soothes for a second, and you look up at him.
The bubble that has been resisting to pop in a corner of your head suddenly does; your beloved Yoongi, your lover, your soulmate, trapped in this cell of flesh with you, for you.
“Yoongi,” you cry out. There’s a different tone in your voice, and it makes him look at you, “my love—”
And you burst into tears of joy, of sadness, of grief and relief. “Yoongi, I’m alive.”
“Yes, you are,” he whimpers, leaning in for a deep kiss. This time, you know him – he’s your home, after all. He’s the warmth of a fireplace and the comfort of a cat napping on a sofa. He’s the sturdy feeling of wood, the relief of coming back home and taking off your shoes. “You are, my love, and you’re here.”
“Why did they do it? How could they do this to me?” you cry again. You find refuge in the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly.
It hurts, it burns. Your beloved humans, your dear creatures that you nurtured and fed. You had given them wood, Yoongi had given them his craftsmanship, and the both of you offered them the beauty of creation. And they killed you with their greedy, little hands – the hands you now possess too.
“We have to accept that the world we knew in our youth doesn’t exist anymore,” he murmurs, trying to comfort you. “This one is made of concrete and smoke, ever-expanding, ever-destroying. They know no kindness.”
You can’t say it makes you feel better, but it does make you resent them a bit less, and that surely is soothing. They’re capable of love, towards a small group of peers, at least. Maybe it’s true that this world has become more unforgiving than you ever thought it could, so ruthless and crude.
“Let’s not grieve,” Yoongi says then, making you snap out of your gloomy thoughts. “Come on, there’s another place I wanna show you.”
He tugs at your hand, and you follow him downhill.
It’s not long before you glimpse a small but sturdy wooden construction. A house, a pretty cottage, now a bit rusty, but cared for and watched over. A home. You smile – Yoongi leading you to a home, what a surprise.
“So,” you say, taking a look around as you walk into the place after him, “this is where you live?”
“I guess it pales in comparison to your flat.”
You frown, confused. “You’ve seen the place I live in?”
“Of course; I had to make sure you’d be comfortable when you woke up… But I hope you like it. Get comfortable, I’ll make us some tea.”
“Oh, no, I love it,” you insist and take a seat on the soft couch. “It’s so cosy, and warmer than I imagined. And I like it far better than my lifeless flat…”
Yoongi just smiles quietly as he goes into the open kitchen. The cottage is small, and it doesn’t appear to have a second floor. You can see him fumbling with the kettle, humming to himself, and suddenly everything feels just right. It’s weird, you would’ve never imagined you’d find yourself in a situation like this, but with Yoongi, it feels right.
“Here you go…”
You must have been engrossed in your thoughts for quite some time because next time you know, he’s holding out a steamy cup of tea in front of you.
“Oh, thank you.” It doesn’t feel too hot on your fingers, and it’s just warm when you sip it. “Hm, this is good.”
He takes a seat next to you on the comfortable couch, and you feel the sudden urge to get closer. Sadly, you don’t know how he’d feel about that, so you just make do with enjoying his presence beside you. Even if your fingers itch to touch him.
“So, this is it,” you murmur. Your eyes are fixed on his, looking at them in awe.
“What do you mean?”
Your smile puzzles him. “I mean, we’re human now. You became human for me… And we’ll live a human life. We’ll grow old and die…”
“Again,” he adds teasingly.
“Again,” you agree, letting out a soft chuckle.
It doesn’t make you feel bad, though. Just a bit afraid, perhaps, but not bad. You can’t, not now that you’ve got Yoongi back. Your love. A sigh of contentment escapes your lips, and your fingers move to his head, raking through his soft hair. Yoongi mewls at the contact and nuzzles your side pretty much instinctively.
“Can I kiss you?” you whisper, cupping his cheek so that he’ll look at you.
Pressing your forehead against his, you grasp Yoongi’s chin and tilt it up. The two of you stay still for a second, just looking into each other’s eyes. You missed him so fucking much, even if you didn’t remember him; your soul ached for every second you forced yourselves to stay apart.
Instead of pressing your lips together, you tilt your head to the side to dig your tongue into his collarbone, making him jump in surprise. An embarrassingly high-pitched whimper escapes his lips, he can feel your chuckle vibrate against his skin. You let him know that it’s appreciated, though, sucking the skin of his neck into your mouth.
“Yeah?” you purr, too focused on sneaking your hands under his shirt.
Whatever it is that he wanted to say, it looks like he’s given a second thought, now indulging in your tender but eager caresses.
Yoongi’s hips buck against you. You chuckle again, far too amused and eager to see in which other ways he’ll react to your touch. So, you move your hand south and cup his crotch, without hesitation – he’s half-hard already, your eager little boy.
Honestly, you’ve always wondered why humans were obsessed with sex. Since you didn’t have a human body back then, you’ve never had the chance to try it their way. But now you do, and so does Yoongi, so you can’t wait to feel for yourself how come something so regular and natural as procreation has brought almost all humanity crazy since the very beginning of their existence.
But seeing him like this, feeling him tremble beneath you, having this sort of dominance over him that he seems to love so much – it all makes sense now.
“Fuck, baby” – you breathe through your nose, his scent is addictive – “you’re driving me crazy. It’s almost like I can’t keep my hands off of you.” Is this what arousal feels like? Because to you, it feels like you’re about to burst. “I wanna eat you up.”
You go up to kiss him on the lips again. A bit shyly, Yoongi parts them to let you in, lets you suck his bottom lip into your mouth with a whimper. Slowly, the two of you lean back on the couch, pushed down by the weight of your kiss. As you swirl your tongue around his, it gets more intense, more eager, more desperate.
His hands fly to your lower back when you straddle his lap, feeling his hardness against your crotch.
“P-please,” he finally whines.
Hooking your fingers in the collar of his shirt, you pepper kisses down his now exposed chest. “Please, what, baby boy?” you ask with feigned unawareness.
You can’t get enough of his skin. That feeling that you got when you first touched him, it’s everywhere now, making you grit your teeth and making saliva pool under your tongue. Like you’re starving and he’s a delicatessen, your love made flesh, missing lovers finally reunited. How you’ve missed him, how you’ve missed this touch you’d actually never known until now, how you’ve missed having him with you, and letting him know how much you love him.
And now all those feelings tingle under your skin. They’re almost palpable, they’re manifesting within this small, weak, mortal body. It’s in the way your muscles throb with want, in the way your heart pumps blood faster and faster, in the empty feeling in your crotch.
“Have you done this before?”
“I-I’ve played,” he lets out in whisper, “with myself— but that’s it.”
The mental image pushes you to kiss him hard again. This one is even sloppier, a thread of spit dripping from the corner of his mouth. He must be feeling the way you fumble on his lap because he starts squirming, the friction sending jolts of pleasure down his spine. Yoongi’s trying to kiss you back, but it’s almost impossible.
“Stay still,” you chuckle.
He groans again. “I can’t, f-feels so good.”
You bite down on his neck, and he whimpers. His cock throbs, how long are you going to keep this up for?
Like electricity, the feeling of your fingertips travelling down to play with the hem of his shirt. It makes his stomach twitch in expectation, and Yoongi looks down at you when you lower your head to pepper kisses over the trail of hair that vanishes into his pants.
You’ve had enough giggling lovers sneak into the forest to more or less know what you’re doing. You’ve seen enough cocks getting sucked to know not to use your teeth, or to have a rough idea of how long it’ll take Yoongi to come, or what will happen when he does. And God, you’re so eager to see that white stream bubble out of his tip, and hear his sweet, high-pitched moans get even higher when you deny him because you’ve actually planned for him to come inside of you.
Pulling down the zip of his pants painfully slowly, you can get a clearer sight of his clothed erection standing against the fabric of his underwear, which you’re quick to remove too.
“What are you doing to do…?”
“Just some experimenting,” you purr, eyes never leaving his pretty little cock. It springs against his tummy, hard and swollen. Your mouth waters at the sight. “Shit, Yoongi, baby— I can’t wait to taste you. Want me to take off your pants?”
He nods eagerly, and you sit up to tug down at the fabric. Once the smooth skin of his legs is exposed to your eyes and hands, you stroke up and down, feeling the softness of his flesh under your touch.
Without hesitation, you dip your tongue into his slit, making him jump. “F-fuck!”
“Just caught me by surprise—”
“Mind if I mark you up first?” you ask him instead, and Yoongi nods in a frenzy, taking off his shirt too. “Such pretty thighs, such pretty skin.”
“Please, Y/N—” he begs.
Moving down between his legs, you suck the skin of his inner thighs into your mouth. Yoongi’s hips buckle again, legs twitching. Your lips are so close to his cock, and your tongue felt so good sucking on his tip, now that’s all he can think about, this is all meant to tease him, he knows it. But what can he do when he loves you to death, wants you so bad, needs you so much?
You’ve started to give his balls sloppy kisses, and now you're sucking them into your mouth as much as you can. Yoongi writhes on the couch, hands gripping the cushions as a tiny whimper escapes his lips.
“Fuck!” It only makes his cock throb even more, feels so fucking good, almost overwhelming. Those are your lips playing with the base of his dick, lapping at his balls. “Jesus, Y/N, there, please—” Your thumb finds his puckered hole and presses against it, making him spread his legs wider. “Please, don’t stop…”
“Not planning on that, baby,” you groan.
Using hands and lips together, your other thumb moves to stroke the tip of his cock, dipping into his slit again. You’re doing whatever you feel like at this point, and it’s driving him insane.
This sort of contact is new for him too, though – the feeling of being at someone’s mercy, of putting one’s pleasure in someone else’s hands, especially your hands. Yoongi chokes on a gasp, pleasure pooling in the pit of his stomach. What he feels when he touches himself— this is completely different, this is a kind of bliss from another world; your tongue licks all the way up to his tip, joining your thumb, and his thighs jerk when you finally take him into your mouth.
“Y/N— fuck, fuck,” he cusses silently under his breath. Yoongi’s thrashing with his feet on the couch, throwing his head back against the armrest. “God, t-that feels good, so good, s-so good…”
You hum and hollow your cheeks. The vibrations send jolts of pleasure down his spine, his cock throbs against your tongue. It’s like his whole body is melting into the furniture, and he doesn’t it to end just yet, but he usually can only keep up with his hand for ten, fifteen minutes.
Of course, it’ll take even less with your mouth.
You pull your lips away, a saliva string connecting you with his tip. “Tell me when you’re about to finish.”
Yoongi nods eagerly – anything for you. Anything for your sloppy kisses, for your wet head around his cock, for the way you lock eyes with him as you engulf him again, making him whimper at the merciless stimulation.
Maybe his trail of dirty thoughts helps to prompt it, but Yoongi finds himself warning you with a breathless ‘c-coming’ just a couple of minutes later.
“Hm, Y/N, God—” he chews, “I’m close, I’m— I’m gonna—”
With his heart racing, his face grows hot, too hot, feels boiling along with his blood. He can feel the muscles of his thighs practically aching as he tightens them, trying to stop bucking his hips into your mouth. At this point, it doesn’t matter, really; Yoongi arches his back, grips the cushions, tries to hold back his moans when you hollow your cheeks. The sloppy suction finally breaks him apart, swollen lips almost kissing his pubic bone.
“Don’t stop, please,” he cries out.
Engulfed in your wet heat, as soon as Yoongi crosses his eyes with a silent plea, you bob your head up and slide his cock out of your mouth. There’s saliva running down your chin, you’re looking down at him so smugly.
“I thought… I thought you meant something else,” he breathes out, “when you asked me to warn you—”
You kiss his tip nonetheless, and Yoongi whimpers softly. “All in good time.”
What else are you dying to try out with his little cock? Well, there is something you wanna do; with one last lick down his shaft, you say goodbye for now and you come up face to face with him. He smiles instantly, the sight of your soft grin as you stare at him in silence as sweet as honey.
You sink your teeth in his neck again, but this time you go for a mark or two scattered over his pristine skin. He whimpers when you yank his head to the side with your fingers tangled in his hair, cries out another plea.
“God! Oh, shit—”
Finally, Yoongi’s getting louder. You knew he would, eventually, knew he was dying to whine and moan so prettily for you.
“F-fuck!” He yelps and bucks his hips into your fist when you shove your hand between his legs, wrap your hand around his aching cock, and start to pump it without second thoughts. “Fucking Christ, Y/N! I’m gonna— I-I’m gonna—”
You know he’s gonna cum again soon; that’s pretty much your plan – or at least part of it. With a shit-eating grin, you move your hand faster as you go down on him again, gather his precum with your thumb to spread it over his swollen tip with your tongue. His little cock is so flustered and red, and fuck, he’s so wet.
Yoongi chokes on a sob as you bob up and down his length. His voice is deep, but he sounds so breathy and desperate that it’s just as sweet. Losing composure, he can’t keep controlling the burn in the pit of his stomach from growing uncontrollably, swelling inside of him and making him gulp and jerk his hips, chasing your fist like a maniac.
“Oh fuck, yes! Please, p-please!”
His second orgasm approaches faster, and this seems to be more intense, picking up the ruins of his unfinished first climax; it’s written all over his face, o-shaped mouth and crossed eyes, letting out an incredibly high-pitched thread of whimpers and bucking his hips into your hand. You’re quick to lick his precum with your lips, let your spit drip down his length and jerk it faster.
“No!” His cries sound so good, make you rub your thighs together in an attempt to soothe your own ache. “P-please,” Yoongi sobs then, looking at you through half-lidded eyes with a mad-driven smile, “fuck, please— this is fucking torture—”
He’s trembling as he speaks, every single fibre in his body tense and aware of your touch.
“It’d be a waste to have you come with my hand,” you growl as you crawl back to be pepper kisses over his flushed cheeks, “don’t you think? When I may as well fuck you and have you fill me up.”
“W-what if you get pregnant?” he murmurs, not really succeeding at his self-imposed task of hiding his excitement at the idea.
“I won’t, I’ve got something called, uh, an IUD? It prevents pregnancies.”
Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, shit— all right, then there’s no problem? I mean, it’s clear that we’re both clean. Humans can get so many diseases through sex…”
“Well, I’ve technically been in a coma for two years,” you chuckle, swinging your hips. Your entrance hovers over the tip of his cock, teasing him with your wetness. He tenses beneath you but tries to focus on what you’re saying, “and you haven’t had sex since you got into this body, right?”
“Only if my hands and my pillow don’t count.”
“Naughty boy,” you growl softly, bending down onto him to bite his bottom lip.
The kiss grows in intensity, and soon you’re devouring each other, hands dancing and fluttering as you just grab and touch every ounce of skin that gets within their reach. Electricity shivers down your digits, he stirs on the couch as soft whimpers come out of his petal-like lips. A toothy kiss sinks on his neck, Yoongi whines a bit more.
Finally, you get off him for a second and rid yourself of your shirt. Your hands unhook your bra in no time, your boobs bounce under Yoongi’s watchful eyes; they look so round, so soft, perky nipples greeting him in such cold air. His mouth waters.
“Wanna suck my tits?” you ask, comically wiggling your eyebrows.
Yoongi lets out a soft chuckle. “Where did you learn that from? I’m half turned-on, half… I mean—” His eyes travel down to your chest, fixed on them as he loses track of his thoughts.
“I think you’re turned on only.”
“Yeah…” he murmurs, and his eyes are still looking at your boobs. “Hm, yeah, I am.”
“Open up that pretty mouth for me then,” you tease him, making him laugh again. “Show me what that tongue can do, baby— you can make a mess, you can stop drooling over them and drool on them instead.”
He does just that; sticks out his tongue as you lean into him. His eyes are glassy now, his skin feels hot when you hold onto him to fix your posture on his lap. Shit, if you were wearing your underwear only, he’d surely feel how fucking wet you are. You’re literally dying to shove his cock inside of you, clench around it, milk him dry. Want to tear one of those pretty, desperate moans off his throat.
His petal-like lips are attached to your nipple in no time. It makes you groan and buck your hips into his, the pressure of his mouth, the wetness spilling down your breast, the flicking of his tongue. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to take a hold of your waist to make sure he won’t ever fall short of booby material to work his tongue on with.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, gritting your teeth. Your hand soon cradles his nape and presses him against your tit. “F-fuck, baby— this feels really good.”
Yoongi doesn’t answer, though – you’ve begun to swing your hips against him, the friction both painful and arousing. It makes him shudder every time you practically bounce on his cock, soft whimpers muffled against your nipple.
Another sigh leaves your mouth. “God, baby, just like that…” you mutter, peeling your eyes open and looking down at him. “Sucking my tits like a greedy baby.”
Your grin just gets wider when he moves to your other nipple, not wasting a second until he’s practically trying to unhinge his jaw so that he can fit your entire boob in his mouth, pinching the other. The feeling of his fingers playing with your sensitive nub sends you overdrive, and you end up pinning him down on the couch under his confused face.
“I’m gonna fuck you, baby boy— shit, look at you.” Yoongi is pretty much out of breath, lips swollen and slick with his own saliva. The blush on his cheeks makes him look ethereal and adorable. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t have any cum left for the next fucking century.”
“S-shit,” he gasps.
So, you raise your hips off him and unzip your pants as quickly as possible. Once you’re completely naked, you stick a finger inside of your cunt just to find it dripping wet and way more sensitive than you imagined. Yoongi stares at you in silence, trying not to get too excited; he’d actually like to last longer than seven minutes inside of you, and your edging has got him sensitive enough already.
It hurts, in some weird way; his cock hurts, his limbs hurt, his jaw hurts. His fingers itch and tingle as he raises his arms and waits for you to finish taking off his shirt. God, even his nails hurt, they ache at his fingers’ desperation.
And, God, so are you.
You throw him onto the couch just to bend down on him the next second, leave crescent marks with your teeth and nails on your pristine skin. Yoongi whimpers again and bucks his hips against you, hot cock brushing against your folds. They’re dripping wet, soaking his length and practically lubing it up.
“Please,” he groans on your lips, “please, Y/N— I’m losing m-my mind…”
“Shut up. You’re my toy for the night, and toys don’t talk,” you let out. But you don’t sound strict, on the contrary, rather amused.
Adrenaline pumps in his spine at your words. They leave him throbbing, salivating almost as he grits his teeth and wishes you’d turn him around and give him a spank – or two. But he’ll be good and wait until you figure out how you want to ruin him today.
When you finally straddle his lap, Yoongi hugs your waist and nuzzles your neck. Your smell is so fresh, so sweet. “So needy,” you chuckle and bite down on his neck, making him whine. “Wanting to get fucked so bad.”
“P-please,” he sobs.
You’re pretty much teasing yourself too at this point as well. Swinging your hips, you sink down onto his cock, going tense immediately at the feeling of him buried deep in you. Yoongi deals with it too as well as he can, swallowed by the warmth of your dripping cunt, thrashing in an attempt to process the heat spreading under his skin.
“God, Yoongi,” you gasp. Your fingers are gripping his shoulders so hard it’ll leave marks. “Shit—”
Just as a try at first, you work thigh muscles and warm up to a brutal pace that has the both of you panting in no time. Yoongi’s lying on the couch, pushed down by your greedy hands who want to have him splayed so that you can nibble and kiss all you want.
This— this is an otherworldly kind of pleasure. The stretch isn’t huge, but the pressure of the tip of his cock makes you groan and raises goosebumps on your skin. Everything is so palpable, such a feeling packed in a body so small and fragile. That’s what makes it overwhelming to have Yoongi moaning and writhing beneath you, victim to your relentless thrusts. He looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth before another whimper escapes from them:
“Fuck! Shit, Y/N, shit—” he cries out. You can feel his cock twitching inside of you. “You feel so good, s-so good!”
Slick drips down to his balls. It smudges with the friction; you’re starting to understand the appeal of staining your loved one with cum. Yoongi pushes against your thrusts, chasing his climax and losing himself in the pleasure. You’re hungry for all these sounds he’s making, wanna squeeze them out of him with a rough grip and your teeth nibbling all down his windpipe.
You lightly run your fingers over his wrists despite the ferocity of your hips. “Such a needy boy— just like that.” Yoongi chokes on a moan when your hands pin him down. “Take all of it. God, you’re a slut for this, aren’t you—?”
He twitches again and mewls at your words, arching his back. Almost as if he’s offering his body to you – what a whore.
“P-please, let me come!” Yoongi begs you.
“So soon? Does my pussy feel that good or are you just that desperate for a fuck?” you chuckle against his ear. “Wanna fill me up with your pathetic little dick, huh, is that it?”
Oh, but he’s burning all over. His heart is racing crazily, he’s never felt like this ever since he got this human body. It’s mind-blowing. This knot in the pit of his stomach, the coiling tension about to explode, the ache between his legs setting his nerves on fire that mixes with your wet heat – it’s all so fucking much that he can just moan and whimper on the couch as you have your way with him, which honestly, just makes it all even harder not to come on the spot.
“Yeah—! My p-pathetic little dick— wanna cum!” he lets out in a sob.
“Gotta beg better than that, baby.”
You leave another mark on his neck, hips rolling down onto his cock. “P-please, please, please! Shit! Can’t hold it, baby, I’m— I’m gonna cum! Let me—!”
“Hm.” You inspect his face in silence and pepper his cheeks with feather-like kisses as he whimpers; you’re close, but he’s not going to last long enough. If you do let him come now – which, honestly, you probably will, seeing how hot his desperation is – you’ll have to find another way to climax. “Look at you… You won’t be missing being a spirit even a bit, will you?”
Yoongi just shakes his head and stares up at you with glassy eyes. You click your tongue and grunt permission before sinking your teeth in his neck again, sucking the skin into your mouth. He thrusts up into you a couple of times until he feels his guts tightening.
“Oh fuck, oh, God, please, Y/N, s-so good—!” he cries out again. You can feel his hands gripping your shoulders, leaving marks. Strangled noises coming from his lips, he’s completely lost in pleasure, with his back arched and his eyes crossed. “Just like that, f-fuck! Coming, coming, shit— I’m gonna cum!”
“Come for me, baby,” you whisper in his ear, licking his earlobe.
One last moan and Yoongi’s climaxing with your name on his lips and two thick tears rolling down his cheek. He empties himself inside of you, still sobbing and convulsing, and you milk his pulsing cock until you can’t squeeze any more cum out of him. He seems to be in pain as you fuck his spent length but also a bit into it.
“Oh shit,” he gasps, “hurts, hurts— d-don’t stop—”
You snap your hips onto him more slowly this time. You can feel him massaging your sensitive walls, cum leaking down. “Yeah? Wanna make me come around your spent cock, baby?”
“Come on my cock— please.”
Almost there, you’re almost there – but you have a different idea in mind.
“You know how to use your tongue, baby?” Yoongi looks confused at first, but then you raise off his lap and slide out of his cock, the sight of his cum dripping down your inner thighs makes him understand. He nods softly. “Look at the mess you made… Better clean it up, huh?”
He’s already got his tongue stuck out by the time you sit on his face. Shit, he looks so fucking tempting, like a thirsty bitch, and you’re so turned on, wanna come on his face now.
You feel him lapping at your core and slurping both your and his cum. It’s such a mess, Yoongi’s getting all his face stained with it, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes, lids fluttering shut as some of your slick gets in the corner of his eyes. He moans and groans at all of that, finds it so fucking hot that you’re riding his face and making him suck his own cum to your orgasm.
“Baby, right there—” With your fingers tangled in his hair and his hands cupping your ass, the two of you agree at a frenetic pace, rolling down your hips against Yoongi’s pretty face. “Fuck, fuck, I’m close! Suck it up, babe, suck it all up!”
He whimpers against your folds, and his voice vibrates throughout your core. “Yes, shit, come on my face, please—!”
With more erratic thrusts, you begin to chase your climax as the ache between your thighs expands. You’re soaking Yoongi’s chin with your dripping cunt, but it only makes it easier for him to swap between his nose and tongue to flick your swollen clit. Groans escape from your lips, hips swinging faster, drowning him in your arousal. You’re getting there, just a bit more, Yoongi can feel it too.
“J-just like that, baby!” you grunted. “Fuck!”
Your hips jerk one last time before going still, the tension snaps. The orgasm is strong and long – stronger and longer than you imagined it’d be like. You’re still humping his face, chasing those last remnants of pleasure that still linger in your core before you slow down and stop.
“Wow,” it’s all you can say.
Soon, you find room next to him, and Yoongi sits up to rest on your chest. He likes them, your boobs; you’ve noticed. And it’s kind of endearing that he likes them because you’re happy to welcome his face between them any time.
“Now I understand.” You look down at him. “That obsession humans had with sex? God, now I completely understand.”
“It’s funny; I thought exactly the same thing. Now I understand it too.”
You lie down in silence a little longer, just caressing each other. His hair is so soft, you could spend your entire life stroking it. And to Yoongi your skin feels like silk against his fingertips. You’re so tired. It feels like you’re carrying a thousand lifetimes on your back.
It’s still weird to think about it – to think about how you thought you were a completely different person just some hours ago. How he was sitting in front of you already by the time you woke up after waiting for years. Your long sleep must have been torture for him, you’re glad you don’t remember anything. Now you’re together again, he’s your entire world.
Even though you’re worried about the forest, you know nature will get back its balance. Without you, though. But now you’re something else, you have other duties. You’re a human, you must worry about human things. It’s kind of exciting, actually; a whole new world to rediscover.
“There are so many new things we don’t know about each other,” you murmur against the crown of his head. “Did you know I get grumpy in the morning? And I hate paperwork.”
Yoongi is not answering, so you tilt up your head and take a look at him – he’s fallen asleep already, resting calmly with his face nestled between your breasts. His lips are parted so prettily, you’re glad you got to see it. You might get grumpy in the morning, but he sleeps like a log. The thought makes you chuckle, already wondering what other things you’re yet to find out about him.
With your hands cupping the back of his head and cradling him against your chest, you kiss the crown of his hair. It’s just weird to think that he’s not conscious right now, that he’s given to you the entirety of his safety. And a good job you’ll do.
Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3
“Eden’s sleep” is copyright ²⁰²¹ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.
↳genre: fluff, romance, implied smut, strangers to lovers!au
↳ note: meaning of roses may differ from place to place and tradition to tradition, this is based on my research.
↳summary: just how a man like seokjin is my ideal type of boyfriend who confesses love through different roses.
When we first met at the florist's shop, you were searching for a green rose that I never knew existed. "It would be a good gift for new parents,"
I remember you saying that giving someone a rose was never just a gift - each one had a secret meaning that could be used to convey to your someone special, how you really felt.
Not only was the manner of delivery and arrangement meaningful, but the colour of your rose meant the difference between saying- and I was mesmerised.
I was enchanted by your beauty and the purity of your words. They sounded so magical rolling off your tongue.
You smiled at me and gave me a lavender coloured rose. I never knew what it meant until spring arrived. Love at first sight, that is what you wanted to convey and I went back to the shop on a chilly morning.
And there you were, standing with burgundy roses. How did you know I was going to be there?
My eyes did not leave the beautiful red shades in them, like every week I was equally enchanted with them. Someone had been sending me roses, always thirteen in number. They were a mystery to me. So you were my secret admirer.
You smiled sweetly at me. "I did not expect to see you here," you said.
You looked lovely, and beautiful as if I were inside a scene in some television drama.
"Here these are for you," you said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I want you to know that you are the most beautiful," I blushed.
I remember how I spotted you at the cafeteria. I did not know you attended the same university as mine but we somehow figured out that we were closer than we had thought.
I remember the one time I helped you find your missing notebook, you had placed beautiful peach roses on my desk, the next day. Thank you - a small note was on it.
I remember you buying me light pink roses on the day you said you wanted to have a meal with me. We stood there on the bus stand late at night to return home, with our arms brushing each other's and singing along to some random tunes.
"Your voice is so sweet," I had told you.
"Just like you," you said.
I remember how you spotted me on a blind date at the nearby café and it was raining. You dragged me out after the other guy ran away, leaving me behind without an umbrella.
You took me home because I was drenched. I spotted a bouquet of blue roses placed on your desk. I was mesmerised by the colour.
"Wanting to give you, someone unattainable, for a long time," the note said.
Oh, I thought, so you already liked someone.
After I changed, you walked me to the cab. We walked hand in hand because it was very cold after the rain. I looked down when I felt your hand getting replaced by something soft, but not as soft as your hands.
Yellow roses, that was the start of our friendship.
When I looked back from the cab, I expected you to stand there looking at me but you turned around and threw the bouquet of blue in the trash can. I was internally happy.
Soon it was Valentine's.
And that day you stood there with yellow roses but with a hint of red on their tips. I knew what they meant. I always knew what you did.
"Will you be the one I keep thinking about?" you said.
I looked at you in confusion.
"Girlfriend, I keep thinking about my girlfriend,"
It was the best decision ever. The little flowers I received almost every day when people found it very old-fashioned, oh I loved how we were.
Our dates were usually filled with orange roses to show your enthusiasm. "I am so fascinated by how your hair curls on your temples," you always said.
Then one day you stood with coral. I thought you did not find orange so you settled for coral instead. Then the whole time you seemed rather nervous and restless until when you hovered over me in the middle of the movie. "May I?"
We made love.
Something as soft as the orange in coral, delicate as the petals of the rose and beautiful as the flower itself.
"I am sorry, I should have bought you red roses instead," you said while kissing my temple.
"It's alright, I know you love me now, "I said.
"I know you love me too,"
I remember receiving red roses every day till our wedding. You wanted me to know that you love me. I always knew that, but you still reminded me.
And now that we are ready to spend our lifetime together, we lay by each other on the bed of colourful roses. I know you wanted to say that you will love me eternally, forever, and ever after. Just like a fairy tale ending.
But you just said an I love you, but I always know more than that.
Teaser: Being a gang leader's daughter is challenging enough as it is, but being in love with your brother's best friend, who happens to be his right hand man, on top of that is even worse! Can a night at the club bring you and your brother's best friend closer together? Read on to find out.
Warning: idk if there are any tbh, expect (protected) sex, a kind of bratty Y/N and a mostly dominant JK (who has his soft spots), oral sex (reader receiving), some dirty talk, daddy kink and yuhhh some typos cuz I'm writing this at 4am <3
Word count: ~4.8k
Author's note: Hey y'all. It's 4am and I'm fuuuqqqq'd up, but I was feeling inspired and decided to write this smut on a whim. There are bound to be typos, as I literally wrote all of this with tired eyes, but I hope you guys manage to enjoy this regardless. I hope I don't wake up and look at this post with some kinda regret.. like omg this is terrible why did i post this.. but we will see. I'm also working on CYKAS pt.2 and on updating my masterlist and stuff, so stay tuned for that. Without further ado enjoy~.
“What are you doing here?!” you heard a voice say from behind you as a hand came down on your shoulder.
You turned around a bit confused, but also wondering what gave that person the right to touch you.
“J-Jungkook,” your eyes widened when you say who the owner of the strong hand that was placed upon your shoulder was.
It was your brother’s best friend and right hand man, Jeon Jungkook. He was dressed in all black, wearing a pair of tight black leather pants and a button down black shirt that had the top 3 buttons undone. His sleeves were rolled up and showing off his strong and tatted arms. His hair was dangling in his face as he eyed your figure at the bar. You were wearing a tight black dress that accentuated your curves perfectly, a set of gold earrings to go along with it and a pair of Louboutin’s to complete the look.
“Your brother is going to kill me, (Y/N),” he stated, obviously a bit riled up.
“What? Over a little girls night out?” you chuckled, raising the martini you had ordered and taking a sip from it, licking your red lips after the fact.
This was probably your third or fourth martini and you were starting to feel a little buzzed. Your friends had split up and decided to go pursue some of the eye candy that was present at the club and that left you to have some more drinks at the bar. It was not that there was no eye candy for you at the club, it was just that you had a craving for a particular kind of treat and that treat was Jeon Jungkook.
“(Y/N),” he said in a stern voice, “you know how your brother is. He’s going to kill me once he finds out your partying at the club.”
Why was you partying at the club such a big deal, you ask? It was because your family was actually part of a gang. Well, not just a gang, but the gang where you lived. They were the largest and most powerful gang that owned a the whole city you lived in and likely had a reach far beyond it. You were the daughter of the gang’s owner and your older brother, Taehyung, was second in charge. Jungkook was his best friend and right hand man. He was honestly a part of your family and lived in the same mansion you did. Your whole family was very, very protective of you and did not want you to fall victim to any of the other gangs that stalked the city looking for your gang’s weak point.
“Ugh, fine,” you frowned, knowing dang well he had a point, “but let’s have 1 dance before we need to go, okay?”
You batted your eyes with your long, fake eye lashes at him and made a pouty face and you knew you had won once Jungkook sighed and his hand moved to scratch the back of his neck.
“Fine, just one and then I’m taking you home,” he conceded, giving in to the gang’s darling girl’s wishes.
You tilted your head back as you downed the rest of the martini, earning a “how lady-like” from Jungkook.
“Shut up,” you replied, tossing the olive that had come with the martini in your mouth.
Jungkook’s eyes shimmered for a moment in the dark club and it was as though your reply nearly prompted something from him, but he ended up just holding it back. Instead he just arched his pierced eyebrow as a response and you chuckled.
“Let’s go,” you demanded, already on your feet and ready to disappear into the crowd to make your way to the dance floor. Jungkook, who was paying for your tab, was taking a little too long for your liking and something within you decided to say, “If you don’t hurry up, I’ll find someone else to dance with…”
A smirk appeared on your face as he turned to face you, a serious, yet amused, look on his face. You knew guys were off limits, but that was not of importance to you at all. After all, you were not after guys, but only one guy and that happened to be your brother’s best friend whom you had been crushing on for as long as you had known him. Normally, you would be kind of shy, but with all of the alcohol that was circulating in your system, your bold and fearless alter ego was now taking charge.
Just as Jungkook was about to reach out and grab you, you mouthed a “too slow” before disappearing into the crowd. To be frank, you were about 75% sure that Jungkook felt the same way about you as you did about him. He was always looking out for you, protecting you and running around to grant your every wish—but maybe that was because he was also appointed your personal bodyguard a while ago. However, does a body guard sneak glances at you threaten to beat up guys who just so much as peek in your direction? Maybe or maybe not and tonight you were intent on finding out how he felt about you. You pushed your way through the mass of people and made your way towards the dance floor. A swift look over your shoulder told you that Jungkook, who was pushing himself through the masses, was not too far behind, his hot and angry gaze fixed upon you. For a moment, you stared at the stage that the DJ was placed upon and smiled when you saw a selection of girls dancing in front of and next to the DJ’s desk. Your eyes then shifted back to Jungkook who was giving you a “don’t you dare” type of expression. A huge grin appeared on your face, as you knew you were about to do exactly what he did not want you to do. You swiftly trotted up the stairs that led from the dance floor to the stage and joined the girls who were jerking their bodies to the music in front of the huge sea of people. As you stood at the center of the stage, all eyes fixed upon you, you made eye contact with Jungkook whose eyes were wide in shock, but also irritation. The DJ, who had watched you come up on stage, seemed rather surprised, but this was quickly replaced with amusement, as he skillfully and smoothly changed the song he was playing, hollering a “let’s see what you got babe” into the microphone. After smiling at Jungkook and giving the DJ a “say less” type of expression, you began to move your body to the beat. The crowd erupted into a unison of cheers as you sensually moved your body to the rhythm of the music. You were dancing so hard that your ponytail ended up coming undone and your hair cascaded over your shoulders, only adding to your sexy performance. For a moment, Jungkook was frozen, partially in disbelief, but also in admiration. Although you were his best friend’s little sister, he could not deny the fact that you looked breathtakingly delicious tonight. Well, actually not only tonight, but ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but he never intended to tell you that or to act upon his emotions. However, his heart was pounding like crazy and he was flooded with a slew of emotions. Part of him was horny, while the other part of him was angry and that is a dangerous kind of combination. Once Jungkook unfroze and started to speed towards the stairs that would let him up on stage, you blew a kiss at the crowd before he literally dragged you off of it, his hand around yours.
“(Y/N), what the hell was that?!” he shouted, angrily now that the two of you were in the comfort of his car.
“A dance performance, couldn’t you tell,” you say back with a smart mouth, your fingers typing up a “I’m going home” message to your friends.
“Don’t be smart with me,” he hissed and you felt his powerful hand on your chin, tilting it away from your phone and into his direction.
Your heart skipped a beat, as he had never, ever, touched you like this before and it was honestly turning you on like crazy. For all this time, you had wanted nothing more than for him to touch you.
“Or else what?” you taunted him, a smirk appearing on your face, “Are you going to punish me?”
You could see his eyes widen in shock before he swallowed hard, his hand immediately releasing your chin and instead deciding to hold onto the steering wheel of his car.
“Buckle up, we are leaving,” you heard him say, his face not turning to face you while he buckled his seatbelt before starting the car.
You did as he said, but noticed a bulge in his tight and fitted black leather pants when you were turning to buckle your seatbelt. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought that you had been turning him on and maybe you were or maybe you weren’t…only one way to find out though.
“Am I turning you on?” you asked boldly, causing Jungkook, who was taking a sip of a water bottle he must have had somewhere in the car, to choke.
“What are you talking about?” he replied, acting clueless, his eyes still glued to the road in front of you.
“This,” you whispered into his ear, now leaning completely over onto his side as your index finger traced along his thigh and up along his bulge.
He let out a slight groan, but immediately tried to play it off with a cough.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, his grip on the wheel visibly tightening, as he tried to fight the boner in his pants that was only growing larger.
He mentally cursed at himself for deciding to wear those leather pants as they leave nothing up to the imagination after a certain point.
“Let me show you,” your tongue came down to lick along the shell of his ear and Jungkook jerked for a moment, surprised at the unexpected sensation.
“What the fuck, (Y/N)? What if that had caused me to have an accident!?” he exclaimed, his heart now pounding out of his chest, as he struggled to concentrate.
“I’m showing you what I’m talking about,” the smirk you had on your face evident in your voice, “now focus on the road.”
Jungkook bit down on his lip, biting back the remark that was threading to slip past his lips. He was not used to being spoken to like that, especially not by you. He may have been your bodyguard, but he was the dominant one in this dynamic you two had and he was not about to let that change. However, part of him was interested in what you had in stock. Shivers were sent down his spine as your tongue came in contact with his neck and licked a stripe up it.
“(Y-y/n),” you heard him mutter, almost inaudibly as you began to pepper kisses along his jaw, your hand rubbing circles along his inner thigh.
Not even two minutes into your teasing and Jungkook was already hard as a rock, his pants suffocating “little Jungkook” that could be found within them.
The “I know you want me” that fell from your lips as you palmed him through his pants was what gave him the rest and he quickly pulled over to the side of the road. By the time he stopped the car his chest was heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths and pondered on what to do. You were his sister’s best friend and he did not know if it was okay to cross that boundary. However, when he got a glance of you who was watching him so eagerly from the passengers seat, hand still teasing at his hard-on in his pants, he was flooded with memories of you at the club. He was reminded of your sexual dancing, your snappy remarks and your bratty attitude. He was reminded of the way men stared at you whenever you passed by them, not only at the club, but in general, and he could not help but feel jealous. Although he had not claimed you, you were his and he hated having other men eye you. Most of all, he hated that he was not able to do anything about it — that he did not have the right to do anything about it.
“Fuck, (Y/N),” he shouted in frustration, his hand hitting the steering wheel hard, prompting you to pull away from him.
“Am I wrong?” you asked, eyes wide as you referred to the statement you had made before.
Maybe you were wrong and he was really just treating you as a bodyguard or worst of all, maybe he felt like some kind of brother to you. Gross. Ugh. For a moment, you felt disappointed and also embarrassed. Had you put yourself out there for nothing? Your heart sank and suddenly you did not feel that tipsy anymore. It was as if the silence that had followed your question served as some kind of wake-up call and as though you had had one of those Cinderella moments: The clock had now hit 12 and your bold magic was washed away.
“I’m sorry,” you broke the silence and adjusted yourself in your seat, “I’ll call someone to come get me.”
Just as you were about to exit the car, a hand grabbed you.
“Wait, (Y/N). You’re not wrong,” the man behind you stated and your heart skipped a beat.
What did he just say? You swiftly turned to face him.
“Fuck, you’re right, (Y/N), and that’s what fucks me up. You’re right. I want you, but not just in that type of way…I want you to be mine and—,” his confession was interrupted by you who had decided to cut his rambling short and instead decided to crash your lips into his.
His lips were soft, just as you thought they would be. Your heart was beating at a thousand miles per hour. It was actually doing backflips, as it was so eccentric at what it had just witnessed. Finally, the guy you had been wanting for so long confessed to you and now you could finally have who and what you wanted. Jeon Jungkook.
Jungkook was surprised at first. He was not expecting his words to be cut off like that, but then again what the hell had he expected? Nothing was going as expected tonight and if he was honest, he would admit that he was loving it. You had a sweet taste and it was just as Jungkook had pictured it. Your lips were pillowy, moist and a perfect fit for his. Once he processed what was happening, his hand found your throat, wrapping its large self around it before tugging you closer to him. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, as though it was begging for entrance, but once he tightened his grip around your throat, earning a gasp from you, your consent—which he would have had anyway—was no longer needed. The small opening your gasp had created allowed his tongue to push itself in your mouth and engage in a fiery tango with your own. Needless to say, Jungkook’s tongue easily dominated the kiss and the way he was taking change was starting to make your pussy throb. Next thing you knew, Jungkook pulled his head back and broke the kiss. He smirked almost deviously when he took in the needy expression that you were making and chuckled.
“Remember when you asked what I would do about your smart mouth earlier and you asked if I was going to punish you?” he hummed, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip with his hand attached to your chin, as his other hand tangled itself in your semi-wild hair to make sure you were meeting his gaze.
“You were right about that too,” he eyed you hungrily and for a moment you wondered what you had gotten yourself into, a mix of fear and excitement lodged in your stomach.
“Now get in the back seat, bad girl, and don’t make me tell you twice,” he demanded and you were quickly ready to oblige.
Part of you wanted to see what would happen if he did have to tell you twice, but the other part of you was so turned on and needed release. Just as you were about to move away from him and into the back seat, you realized his grip on you was still tight and had not loosened one bit. You shot him a confused look and he clicked his tongue.
“Now, now, babygirl. I know you know what you’re supposed to say when daddy tells you to do something,” he stated playfully, yet there was a thick amount of assertiveness in his voice that was only adding fuel to the fire in your nether regions.
“Yes, daddy,” you replied submissively, your eyes staring into his that were fastened onto you with some kind of carnal desire.
“Good girl, now do as daddy said,” he released you and within two seconds you were in the back seat with his lips against yours.
You two engaged in a heated make-out session, by the end of which you were left in nothing but your matching bra and panties. For some reason you were feeling a bit embarrassed, your hands wanting to shoot you to cover your body that was positioned to face him upon his lap.
“No hiding from me, babygirl,” he stated, likely having caught on to your moment of insecurity, his hands moving from your ass to your hands.
“You’re the most beautiful thing to me and I want to see every inch of you,” he announced, his eyes roaming your half naked figure that he had been longing to see for what felt like an eternity.
You could not deny his request and let your hands that were threading to try and cover you rest around his neck. He immediately initiated another kiss with this one being more tender than needy, his hands caressing your back.
“Let me make you feel good,” he said, one of his hands skillfully unclasping your bra.
He peered into your eyes, awaiting your approval to go further, which you gave and Jungkook immediately began to attack your chest. It was as though he had been restraining himself for so long that now that the moment was finally here and what he had waited for was finally in front of him, he no longer had the willpower to hold himself back. His lips left a trail of love bites behind as his lips enclosed around your right nipple.
“O-oh,” a moan erupted from your lips and you subconsciously threw your head back at the unfamiliar sensation.
Although you may have been a smut reader and well versed in the theory of sex, you had actually never really had sex before. The feeling of Jungkook attacking your nipples felt amazing and better than you had ever imagined. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud while his other hand fondled the boob that was not currently being attended to by his lips. After giving the other breast the same amount of attention, he lifted you off of himself and laid you down on your back.
“W-what are you doing?” you asked as he began to spread your legs apart after positioning himself in front of them.
“I’m going to make you feel even better,” he replied, his finger pulling your panties to the side.
“D-don’t look!” you screamed, embarrassed at how wet you were, but Jungkook held your legs that were threatening to close in place.
“(Y/N), you’re so beautiful and wet,” he watched you glisten in the moonlight.
Your hands were now covering your face that was blushing in embarrassment, as the effects of the liquor had worn off.
“Let’s see how you taste,” he moved your panties to the side even further before spreading your lower lips apart.
“N-no wait! It’s dirty–,” your sentence was quickly interrupted by Jungkook’s tongue that came down on your aching core.
Your whole body shivered at the new sensation and you thought you might just cum from simply that.
“Delicious,” Jungkook mumbled against your sex, making your toes curl with every lick he took at it.
“F-fuck,” your legs were twitching as he ate you out almost aggressively, his manly hands holding your body in place.
At this point, you were a moaning mess and Jungkook seemed to be spelling his name out on your pussy and it was driving you absolutely insane. He was lapping at it as though he had been famished for the past week and your pussy was a 5 star meal. Gosh, he was making you feel so good. Almost too good, as your orgasm was basically right around the corner and you could feel it coming.
“I-I think I’m about to cum,” you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.
“Not without asking daddy for permission,” he replied, his pace still remaining steady.
“Please, can I cum, daddy,” you groaned, your orgasm inching closer and closer.
“I’m not convinced. Try again,” he said against your core, his eyes watching your shaky body as his tongue still went to town on your pussy, traveling up and down your slit.
“Please, daddy. Please, let me cum,” you cried, his tongue now penetrating your entrance, leaving you only there to hang on by a thread.
“Okay, cum, babygirl,” he answered and cum you did.
Your whole body tensed up as your orgasm ripped through you, earning a loud moan from your throat. Your back arched up as Jungkook continued to guide you though your orgasm, letting you ride it out against his mouth. Your hands pulled and tugged at his hair aggressively, your whole body being overrun with copious amounts of pleasure.
Once he could tell that you were becoming overly sensitive, he pulled away, a string of your arousal connecting his chin to your core before he broke it by pulling too far back. You watched him lick his lips and glance down at you in satisfaction.
Fuck, what was this man doing to you, you wondered as your chest moved up and down in an attempt to catch your breath.
“You look so hot,” Jungkook breathed, his hands coming down to fondle with his belt that held his leather pants in place.
You could hear its buckle coming undone and a zipper being pulled down as you stared at the car’s ceiling with blurry vision. Once you managed to kind of regain your breath and your ability to see, you propped yourself up on your elbows, legs still spread, as you made eye contact with Jungkook. He was hungrily eyeing you as his hand was wrapped around his large and angry looking cock. He must have been incredibly horny, as it appeared as though the thing was about to explode, that’s how swollen and veiny it looked. Precum was leaking out of the tip of it and a part of you wanted to try and taste it, but that would be for another time, as Jungkook interrupted your lusty thoughts.
“Can I put it in?” he broke the silence, and honestly it seemed almost like a plea.
He was so horny that if you had rejected him, he may have shed a tear or two, but luckily you didn’t.
“Yes,” you replied, looking up at Jungkook who was towering over you.
Your heart was beating rapidly and you realized that you were giving up your first time. However, you would not have wanted to give it up to anyone other than the man who was right in front of you. He was your first love, your heart, your everything and if you were going to do this with anyone, it would be with him.
Jungkook pulled out a condom before taring it open and rolling it only his hard length. This time he made sure to pull your panties off as he did not want you getting uncomfortable during this process. He positioned himself at your entrance and for a moment his famished and insatiable expression changed into a more concerned one.
“Are you sure?” he asked, a serious look on his face.
“I am. Now put it in,” you demanded, your core still aching.
After hearing your words, he slowly pushed your lower lips apart and into you.
“Mmmm,” you squirmed, feeling a large amount of pressure between your thighs.
“Bear with me for a moment. Soon you won’t feel anything but pleasure,” Jungkook reassured you and you tried your best to relax under him.
Taking in all of him was a bit painful at first, but Jungkook tried his best to be gentle and spread you apart slowly. And, eventually, just as he had promised, you were feeling nothing but pleasure. You were once again a moaning mess in front of him and he was the same. He was groaning like crazy, words of praise spilling from his mouth as he pushed himself in and out of you at a faster pace. He made sure to pull out nearly all the way and then plunge himself deep inside of you, rubbing along your g-spot and hitting your deepest parts in the process. You were so wet at this point that sounds of your squelching wetness filled the air, but it only seemed to turn Jungkook on more. He was watching your every expression as he guided himself in and out of you with skill.
“Fuck, I-I think I’m going to cum,” you whined, barely able to form a sentence or even keep your eyes open at this point.
“Me too, babygirl. Let’s cum together,” he moaned, his hand coming down to brush along the skin of your cheek in a comforting way, while the other held on to one of your legs.
A few erratic thrusts later and the two of you were sent over the edge. Euphoria hit the two of you like a train, as both of you erupted into a chain of moans and groans, as you convulsed around Jungkook who was releasing large amounts of his seed into the condom. After taking a few moments to regain your breath, Jungkook pulled out of you and laid back to rest against the seat next to yours. You were still laying there, chest heaving heavily as you were seeing stars. Gosh, this man really had fucked your into oblivion. Who thought sex could be this amazing?!
“Fuck, you were amazing, babygirl,” Jungkook complimented you, as he pulled the loaded condom off of himself. The clothes he had been wearing were drenched in sweat, as he lowered one of the fogged up windows of the car.
“Steamy,” you said jokingly, as you were referring to the thick smell of sex in the air and the fogged up windows.
“Steamy indeed,” Jungkook discarded the condom by throwing out of the window before coming down to give you a peck on the lips.
For a moment, the question of “what are we” played on your mind and you pondered on how you should bring up the question your mind was urging you to ask. Would he think you were needy or clingy if you asked him now? Would it ruin the moment? A loud cellphone ringtone interrupted your train of thought and Jungkook leaned to the front of the car to grab ahold of his phone.
“Yo,” he answered the phone and judging by that, it must have been Taehyung.
“Yeah, (Y/N) is with me,” Jungkook said into the phone before adding “we will be home shortly” and then hanging up the phone.
“Fuck, how are we gonna explain this?” you gave him a “what the fuck do we do now” expression while sitting up.
“I’ll take care of it,” he smiled reassuringly, his arms wrapping around your small frame to pull you into a warm embrace and adding "Let's get you cleaned up."
“B-but–,” he interrupted your words of worry.
“(Y/N), stop worrying,” he pulled away to look down at you, “and stop furrowing your brow! You're thinking too hard. I don’t want my beautiful girlfriend to get any unnecessary wrinkles!”
“Girlfriend?” your face lit up as soon as he said that word.
“Yes, girlfriend,” he gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Although I do still plan on asking you out more officially.”
Your grip tightened around him and your head rested against his chest as your worries were cast off of you. Now that you knew where you and Jungkook stood, and now that you had finally gotten what you wanted, it felt like nothing in the world could stop you; because at the end of the day, no matter what, love always wins.
🕸️ NO-FACETOBER hosted by @bangtanbathhouse
⠀⠀⠀⤖ 「 Day 23 」 : witch
pairing — ghost!taehyung & ghost!jimin x witch!reader
summary — Taehyung is in need of supernatural help after he lost contact with his soulmate Jimin. He stumbles across a witch that doesn't seem to be that interested in helping him.
genre — supernatural, fluff (if you squint), (poor atempt at) humor
rate — sfw
word count — 2.4k
warnings — talking to a ghost (?), oc unhappy with life, mention of death with euphemism, encouter with spirits, cursing.
author's note — thanks again to my friend Carol for the idea of ghost!taehyung. love you, hun <3
part two — october, 28th
“Listen,” I started, already annoyed by his superiority complex. It’s so Taehyung to think he can just barge into my room and start random conversations with me “Just because you’re a ghost, doesn’t mean I don’t deserve privacy, okay?”
He rolled his eyes. It’s been a minute since he last visited me. Taehyung has been going back and forth between reality and the spirit realm for a while now. First, waiting for his soulmate Jimin to join him in eternity and now looking for him, since he got lost on the trip.
Since the day we met, he has made almost 30 trips. I’m pretty sure he annoyed many guides along the way, so of course he had to come looking for me, the only witch he knew.
“I know that, silly” he said, sitting down on the floor in front of my bed “But I’m worried about Jimin” he whined “And you promised we could go find the Portal. Aren’t you curious at all?”
“Why can’t you just go by yourself?” I retorted, laying in my bed again to continue to read my book. “You can literally walk in anywhere.”
“I just want some company, is that so bad?”
I fucking hate seeing ghosts. They always have to come to me with their problems. Hadn’t he realized that Jimin could’ve just followed his scent after getting released into eternity? Did he really need to guide him every step of the way? The process was instinctual, after all. Or so I’ve been told.
I hesitated, pretending to read my book. Why did I have to be the only witch in generations to have this ability? Why was there no one to help me with these things? There was very little literature on it too.
I wasn’t ready to admit out loud how much I hated this part of my heritage. I didn’t want people to catch me talking to a literal ghost. They would hospitalize me, that’s for one. I also didn’t want the constant reminder that I was alone in this. Yeah, my family is supportive as much as they can, all the women in my family are witches after all, but it’s still not the same.
“Can’t you just butt off and find another ghost to play with?” I asked rudely.
“You know I can’t and don’t tell me how to live my life” he said, with a strange mix of hurt and sarcasm in his voice.
“You have no life” I pointed out “First, you’re a ghost, that means you’re dead. Second, you’re still here, annoying me. Just further proof.”
“I wish I’d bumped into someone less mean to talk to”.
Tell me about it. It was oh, so nice to meet him at a witches library of all places.
It was a rainy day, but I decided to leave the house anyway. I was in dire need of some fun outside my backyard. Spring would come in a few months, and I was excited for all the herbs and flowers I could collect this season.
I entered the library and started to look for some new books to read, preparing to strengthen my potion making abilities. There was a witches meeting at the back corner, and they greeted me warmly. I recognized one of my mom’s mentors there, and I promised to pass the greetings to her and my grandma.
I exhaled in relief as I reached the shelf I would be spending my afternoon looking through.
“Can anyone here see me?” a man screamed, and my head looked in his direction immediately.
He was wearing an all black outfit. A turtleneck, what looked like linen pants and a coat that reached his knees. His black hair and clothes weren’t wet from the rain, but he didn’t carry an umbrella. His expression was scared and relieved as we locked eyes. His irises were charcoal black. They were deep and felt hollow as you looked at him.
I cringed and hissed with terror, and in a second he was by my side. His eyes stared down at me and he tried to touch my shoulder, but his hand never touched me. I could feel the eyes of the other witches on my back.
“Can you see me?” he frowned. I nodded and he exhaled in relief. In a rush, he tried to hug me, but all I could feel was a whoosh of air. Oh, fabulous. I groaned and tsked my tongue. I was not looking forward to meeting ghosts today.
“Y/N, what’s happening? Are you okay?” Ms. Deja asked. She was walking towards me, the other members flanking her heels.
“Yeah, I think so,” I responded, unsure.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just a friendly ghost. My name is Taehyung,” The man smiled widely at our company, but they didn’t pay any attention, they were still worried about me.
“I’m fine, really” I reassured her “Is there anything that you need help with?” I said, looking at the strange man. He really did come to the best place for this.
“Who are you talking to?” Ms. Deja asked again “I didn’t feel any presence enter”
Nooooooooo. I groaned internally as every witch in the vicinity agreed.
“Are you going to help me, or are you going to be a pain in the ass?” Taehyung asked
“The exit door is always open.” I teased, pulling back from my memories. He snorted. I went back to brooding. What the hell would I do now? If I went to my mom and grandma to try to shoo him away, he would get his heart broken. Or something similar.
“I’ll bargain with you” He said suddenly, his presence right next to me. “Whatever you want, if it’s in my power, it’s yours…” he offered, waiting for a response that he wouldn’t receive. “And in return you go with me find the Portal”
“Look, I know this is something really important to you, and even though I am curious, I’m not messing with that Portal. I don’t want to be on Hades' hit list, okay?”
“Hades doesn’t have a hit list, and he’s a pretty chill dude. He’s just misunderstood.” he countered with his soft voice. I rolled my eyes.
“Why can’t you go get help from your bestie Hades, then? If he’s so friendly-”
“Because I’m stuck on this realm of frequency” he groaned impatiently “I thought we’d gone through this already” He finished, and I finally looked up to meet his eyes. I’m still unsure how dead and hollow eyes can hold so much emotion. There was pain, concern, worry. Curiosity was there but faint, he was really preoccupied with this Jimin guy.
Was his worry for his soulmate the reason why he wasn’t paying that much attention to the keys of frequencies, and inevitably got stuck? But why didn’t he use this puss in boots technique with his other guides this far? “Don’t you want anything?” he asked suddenly, remembering me of his earlier offer.
What did I want? I wanted freedom. I wanted to sit in my room without seeing things. I wanted... to be normal. I didn’t want to have this job. I don’t want to be the chosen one, or whatever. I can barely take care of myself, let alone mediate the needs of all supernatural creatures.
Because, of course, with Mr. Taehyung going around making friends left and right, word spread of a new witch with the mediator gene. With that, came a bunch of random requests that I had to learn — alone — how to make it work. Fuck my life.
“I don’t think you can give me what I want” I whispered, sighing in defeat.
“Maybe the Portal can. It grants all wishes…” he used his persuasive voice now. It was so tempting to meet a being that could, at the very least, understand where my anguish was coming from. I was giving in and by his expression, he knew it.
“Fine…” I sighed and Taehyung squealed. “Let me go grab my things.”
“This place is giving me some weird nostalgia,” Taehyung said, looking around our library with grateful eyes. The last time he was here, it was the day we met.
“Say your goodbyes, then. If you’re lucky, this is probably the last time you’ll be here.” I said, closing the door behind me. I felt strangely safe with the door closed. Even though I wasn’t the only one here, I felt warm and welcomed. The same way I felt alone at home.
“Hello, Y/N” Ms. Deja greeted me at the reception, with a sweet smile as always. “How are you?”
“Same as always, just helping some ghosts” I responded, with a clipped tone. It was becoming harder to hide my acid tone.
“Who is it this time?” It was sweet of her to help me as best as she could. There wasn’t much she could do. Her help finding the books I needed, and helping me write the stories of my tasks for future generations was more help than I could dream of.
“Another task for Taehyung,” I answered, incredulity clear in my voice. Her face was understanding then.
“You know you’ll miss me,” Taehyung said to my left. I just ignored him.
“How can I help you both?” said Ms. Deja, chuckling.
“We need to find the Wishes Portal…” I trailed off, inclining closer to her. It didn’t matter, everyone heard me and the room went silent.
“Big task you got, eh?” she asked, with apprehensive eyes. I just nodded, suppressing a shudder. I can’t even believe I actually said those words. What the hell did I just agree to?
The Portal wasn’t an appropriate place for mediators of any level, witches, wizards or even ghosts trying to find their soulmates. It wasn’t prohibited, and it’s indestructible... but it was a sacred place to the bigger forces of the Universe that reigned over all realms. It was a door, the direct link to God, if that’s what’s on the other side. The being that makes all the decisions. This task was close to blasphemy.
“You can go to aisle 5 to acquire this knowledge. I’ll guide you” she said after a minute.
“This place is so tense,” Taehyung whispered to me. As if all these people staring in our direction could even hear or see him.
“I wonder why,” I responded, using sarcasm to suppress this strange tinge of agony. As if it wasn’t enough that I was the only one who could see ghosts. Now I was the only one with the audacity to bother the higher spirits.
We stopped at the edge of aisle 5, Ms. Deja was pulling a thick book off the shelf. I’d never seen it before in my library explorations.
It wasn’t like anything I’d expected. It wasn’t an old, used and abused book. Has nobody searched for this book before? The cover was sharp and defined, very different from the other ancient books. Maybe it wasn’t ancient. The cover also wasn’t brown like all the other books here. It was mint green and it glowed, a thin golden film all around it. It had an aura.
I then realized that the book was alive. The shimmer of its aura was independent from ambient light and wind. It did not breathe, blink or speak, but this library was its home, maybe it’s place of birth. It was certainly where it hid itself from outside danger.
Ms. Deja opened the book for us. The pages were pristine white, nothing was written on it. It didn’t have any kind of bookmark. All the pages were perfectly aligned. I stared at the blank page, unsure if I should be feeling dizzy. It felt like staring at the sun, my whole body was close to shaking, my instincts telling me to close my eyes, but I couldn’t find my eyelids anywhere in my body to make them obey.
“Get out of the trance” Taehyung said to my ear, his hands whooshing past my shoulders, trying to shake me off, even though he couldn’t. I blinked suddenly, the room spinning around my head.
I looked at Ms. Deja, but she wasn’t there anymore. In her place, was a slender and tall being, dressed in a deep green cloak. I blinked again and stepped back in fear.
“She’s fine” the being told me, with a soprano musical tone as a voice “I’m just here to assist your first riddle.”
The being held the book against its body, but now the pages weren’t blank anymore. I could see ink slowly appearing at the center of the page. At the same time, the green cloak started to get embellished with winter red camellias, its stems made of silver. It enveloped the being completely like a silver fabric with red camellias as ornaments.
Suddenly there was no being anymore, just a robust tree, its trunk was entirely made of camellias and silver stems. But the book was still held up. A drawing of stems and flowers, identical to the tree, adorned the entire page on an oval shape, and inked on the center were the words:
𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒷ℴℴ𝓀 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊: 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒶𝓂 ℐ?
Was the book having an existential crisis or something? What type of riddle is this?
“I have to say, this is very magic forest themed” Taehyung said, brushing his index finger on his chin “It sends a message…”
“Can you please pay attention to…” I started to say, annoyed with his distraction. But my irritation faded as I replayed his words in my head.
Theme. Message. It was so obvious.
“Oh, wow” I whispered, getting Taehyung’s attention at once. “You’re the Wishes Portal” I answered, my eyes glued to the book.
Instantly, the library shelves weren’t around us anymore. We were still in front of the silver and flowered tree, but the scenery changed. I looked around, mesmerized. It felt like a poorly dimmed room, but I could still see things clearly. The silver tree — the Wishes Portal — was at the center of an oval clearing, without the book. All around us were a dozen trees, all with distinct aesthetics and personalities.
But something was wrong. Not wrong, just out of place, standing out. A man I didn’t know was sitting in front of us, side by side with the Portal.
“Jimin!?” asked Taehyung. The relief and love of his voice was so thick it lit up the room.
The Portal lit up its golden aura. An eerie chill set itself on fire down my spine.
summary: your friend jin is gracious enough to join you for a night of antics, convincing your vile ex that the two of you are together. it’s all fun and games until two truths come out that neither of you were expecting...
pairing: kim seokjin x reader
genre: fluffy fluff
word count: 2.7k
tags/warnings: prick ex-boyfriend!Taehyung, wwh!Jin, overwhelmed!Reader, a circus
a/n: for @delacyrose224, askljadkj!! delacy...delacy! i had so much fun writing your request. like i couldn’t type it fast enough, i was so hyper writing it haha. i hope it is whatever you were wanting. i know how busy life has been so i really tried to make this a fun read for you but with fluffiness because hey, it’s jin.
october drabble event mlist
“Would you relax?” Jin’s tone is lined with every sort of judgment while he watches you squirm in your seat. He’s sure there’s a welt at the nape of your neck where you’ve scratched for the umpteenth time, nerves tickled by the annoying tag of your blouse.
“Tch,” he clicks his tongue, picking up the butter knife, “turn around.”
Your darting eyes manage to settle on your friend for the first time that night, “wh-what-no!” You smack his hand away when he pushes your shoulder to face the direction he needs you in, “stop-what are you doing?”
“Hold still, will you,” he gripes, taking the serrated edge of the knife to the pesky tag, cutting it off in one clean swipe, “there, geez.”
“Oh,” you rub the spot that definitely has a small welt growing, “that feels better.”
Jin rolls his eyes, “yeah, ungrateful woman, you are welcome too.” His eyes flatten when he sees you’ve long left the conversation though he can’t be surprised; “you know, you made it very clear you didn’t want any attention on you tonight-”
His eyes stretch upward, watching you eye the arched doorway when another set of friends make their way into the dining hall, “but fidgeting like you’re some kind of zombie and making those crazy eyes isn’t exactly helping.”
You turn just to swat his shoulder, giving him a less than amused expression, “if there weren’t people around I’d flip you off right now.”
He falls back in his chair, cheeks puffing up and eyes closing into crescent moons as he laughs at your short temper. He isn’t hurt by it, one because Kim Seokjin is your dear (and annoying) friend, and two, he knows it’s only your anxiety weighing on you because your ex-boyfriend is sure to show up any minute.
It’s a taboo topic and Jin knows that well. The bruise on his bicep was evidence of such when he decided to make a joke about your past relationship one day, but no dad joke could ever make that experience a comical one for you. It started bad and ended worse. In short, Taehyung was a prick. Jin never did like the guy, neither before, during, or after you dated him. Opting to call him a rascal just to be nice when there were far more suitable names he’d wanted to call him. And what it boiled down to was the fact that Taehyung broke your heart, that’s all Jin cared to know.
“What’s it matter anyway if he sees you,” Jin is speaking to your back, “you look great, we look great-if anything why don’t you have some fun with it, we are at a wedding after all, there’s sure to be single guys around.”
You turned with an arched brow, “what are you blabbering about back here?”
His playful eyes shoot darts your way, crooked finger poking the center of your forehead and pushing it back slightly. You laugh this time, “okay okay, I’m sorry.”
“I’m serious, there are some good-looking guys here tonight,” Jin stops to scope the scene for you, pieces of his gelled hair falling over his forehead, “not as handsome as me but-” he shrugs before looking back at you, “flirt a little, dance with one, Taehyung is sure to be so jealous he won’t last at this reception.”
You roll your eyes, exhaling heavily through your nose, “he was always jealous of every little thing I did.”
Jin waves off that comic, visibly turning green before you, “we’re talking so much about him it seems we’ve manifested his long-awaited arrival,” Jin gestures toward the door. Your breath catches in your throat for a moment, eyes raking over your ex briefly.
He did look good.
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Jin is speaking into your ear this time, the music and guests’ voices rising in volume as the room fills, “I know what you’re thinking and his looks do not make up for how much of a jerk he is.”
“I know,” you whine, turning a full 180 in your seat to face your friend, “and whatever, I don’t need another man on me just to make him jealous, it shouldn’t matter-”
“Ah, Seokjin-ah!” Taehyung’s deep voice bellows out making your back stiffen as you straighten your posture, “looking spiffy my friend.”
Jin doesn’t try to look friendly, face dropping with a pinched and exasperated smile bunching on his lips. He just nods, offering a meek wave. His eyes drop to Taehyung’s hand that finds a place on your bare shoulder, your name coming out of his mouth like smooth whiskey.
In a moment of panic, you rest your hand over Jin’s thigh before turning to look at Taehyung. His intense stare isn’t on you like you expect, but where your hand is gingerly squeezing Jin’s knee.
“Hm,” he chuckles, “good to see you.”
You nod, palm smoothing over the silky material of Jin’s dress pants, mindfully stroking his knee in a manner only Taehyung can see, “likewise,” you answer coolly. Jin plays it cool while inside his questions run amok, heart battering so hard he’s sure it’ll leap to the opposite side of his chest.
Taehyung’s eyes flicker down once more before he makes it a point to ignore the way you keep your hand on Jin or the way Jin rests his hand over yours, intertwining his fingers with yours; “seems I’ve missed a lot.”
Jin chuckles this time, leaning forward to pull your seat closer to him, creating distance between you and Taehyung, “nothing that concerns you, my friend.”
Taehyung smirks, nodding, “save a dance for me, hm?” He ignores Jin, making eyes at you.
Your eyebrows drop slightly, “No, I-”
“She’ll be busy with me,” Jin cuts in. You feel the way his grasp around your hand tightens.
“Right, well, enjoy yourselves,” Taehyung leans down to kiss your cheek, eyes darting over to Jin before he walks off.
“I hate him,” you hardly allow enough time before Taehyung is gone, whipping around to face Jin. It’s then you realize your hand is still resting over his thigh, his fingers caressing yours; “oh god, I’m sorry.”
Jin relaxes in his seat when you rip your hand away, laughing. Of course he’s amused by this; “what happened to, ‘I don’t need another man on me just to make him jealous.’”
You push his knee, dragging your chair back in its place and folding your arms.
His laugh still taunts you and you can see the mischief dripping off your friend’s smirk, “this is going to be a fun night.”
Fun was a stretch. You dedicated the entire night to make it apparent to your ex that Jin was the new man in your life. Hanging off of Jin anytime Taehyung was around, but in subtle ways only he would notice. Ways that would ink into his mind and spread like poison.
“Oh, you’re evil,” Jin’s voice vibrates against you, your chest pressed against his while he leads you in a slow dance, bodies swaying to the music. His teasing eyes look down at you while you frown at the smirk on his face, the one that’s been painted there all night.
“Don’t get any ideas Seokjin,” your tone is stern but knowing Taehyung is watching you from his place at a table, you keep a smug smile on your lips as you stare up into Jin’s eyes, “and mind that hand,” you stop to move his from your hip and onto the small of your back.
He chuckles, apologizing, “I was getting into character.”
“Funny,” you say with a death-defying look.
There’s a flicker there when you don’t tear your eyes away from Jin’s soon enough. Initially, you think to yourself it’s his playfulness, the way he isn’t able to stay serious long enough before he feels the need to relieve the situation with a bad joke.
You laugh a little, shaking your head when you finally look away; you like his jokes. You like them because you know he’s doing it to see you laugh, to make you better.
“What?” He inquires, closing his hand around yours and holding it up against his chest.
“You’re a good friend,” you reveal something he’s known for all these years. He smiles to himself when you rest your head against his chest, relaxing into his hold. He feels his ears burn when your hand drops from around his shoulder to rest around his waist.
He stutters your name, waiting for some kind of response before he can continue. His neck grows hot when he feels you hum against him, awaiting whatever he is about to tell you.
“You um-you deserve good people around you, you know that right?”
You pop back up, chuckling. Expecting one of his famous one-liners that boasts about how great he is and how handsome he is, you’re surprised to see the softness in his expression. Eyes rounded while they look at you, the sparkling in them not from the ambient lighting but from the light that lives inside of Jin. The light that shows how caring he is and how sensitive he is to people’s comfort, wanting those around him to be at ease.
The flicker returns and this time it beats with your heart.
“I’m starting to feel bad,” you say.
Jin smiles, moving his hand up to rub your shoulder, “you shouldn’t let him make you feel that way.”
You snort, “no idiot-”
Jin laughs this time, ears burning red.
“I mean I feel bad for doing this, making you fake-date me just because I felt insecure about him being here,” you look at Jin with apologetic eyes.
“Ah,” he chuckles, “it’s made for an interesting night-”
“Oh my gosh,” a vibrant voice shatters the sincerity of your and Jin’s conversation. Both of you jumped to look at the culprit, an old classmate standing there with a large camera in hand; “I knew you guys would get together one day!”
“Oh-uh-no…I mean-” you stutter, eyes moving around until they find Taehyung. He’s still there, caught between a conversation you can tell he has no interest in.
“Yeah,” Jin takes over, forcing a laugh, “surprised us too.”
“Oh,” the classmate chortles, “I know this is weird but the bride has asked for pictures of all the couples tonight, bonus gift if you share a cute kiss for the camera?”
Your eyes lose Taehyung in an instant, rounding to the size of saucers as you look up at Jin, “oh-um,”
Jin doesn’t seem as panicked, pouty bottom lip opening in slight. You feel him remove his hands from you, waiting for him to graciously decline and maybe offer to walk back to your table.
But your breath stills when he moves his pointer finger beneath your chin, tipping it upward while his eyes do all the questioning, “only if you’re okay with it,” he says mindfully, “give him something to remember.”
You aren’t sure how soon after you’re nodding does Jin do the rest. Pressing his perfect lips against yours. Your mind explodes with an array of fireworks, the only conscious thought being how soft your friend’s lips feel against yours.
“Ah, perfect,” the classmate practically cheers before you hear the click of her camera, a big flash following, “thank you!”
You and Jin hardly hear her leave, too caught up in the unthinkable but not stopping when he deepens the kiss. Your hands feather over his ribcage while he wraps his around your neck, pushing his lips as far onto yours as he can.
As soon as it happened, Jin brings it to an end. His hand still holds your jaw when he pulls away, leaving your shaking eyes to wander over his face for any sort of telling of what's just happened.
“I need air,” you tear yourself from him before he can say anything, whipping past Taehyung and anyone in your way.
The air feels good breezing over your skin, as you make your way through the picturesque landscape lit up with the glow of the moon. You find a private spot behind some hedges, sitting on a wooden bench and taking in what feels like your first breath of air that night.
“Oh my god,” you press your hand over your forehead, “what are you doing?”
Too caught up in scolding yourself, you miss the faint sounds of someone approaching you until the figure steps right in front of you. He rocks on weary feet, his hands stuffed inside his pockets, eyes surely looking over you much like they do when he’s worried about you.
“Is it okay for me to be here?” Jin asks, voice deep with concern.
You nod, unable to look up at him. He hesitates for only a moment before he’s sitting next to you, his shoulder rubbing against yours.
Well at least he isn’t repulsed by me, you think to yourself, perhaps to make yourself feel lighter.
“It’s my turn to apologize,” he laughs but you know nothing about this is funny to him. Not your sensitivity or vulnerability, not the mixed emotions you’ve been steeping in since arriving at the reception.
“I didn’t mean to take advantage of this whole thing, I uh, I guess I got caught up in my own vendetta of wanting him to feel some measure of the pain that he caused you-”
Your wavering eyes find him, causing Jin’s word to taper off, “Jin, please-”
“No let me finish please,” you nod for him to continue, “I took advantage of you but-” he shakes his head, laughing at himself, “this is stupid and immature but I saw you looking at him when she asked and I guess, well I uh-”
“You got jealous?” You add with a gentle tone.
He chuckles, head dropping to reveal even more of his fiery ears. You can’t help but giggle at the sight, reaching over to playfully press the tip of his ear between your fingers, “you have nothing to apologize for, this circus is all my doing.”
He doesn’t say anything at first, only moving to look at you, to read whatever is on your face that will confirm you are telling the truth; “I just hate that he has such a strong effect on you, even now after all this time.”
You have to laugh, as pitiful as it sounds, “Jin, ugh, it’s not that-” you click your tongue, “honestly, yes the notion to make him jealous was tempting so I took it, but I don’t care about him,” you laugh again, “it was just fun to-I don’t know-god this is dumb, nevermind.”
He reaches over and pokes your cheek, “no, this sounds interesting,” he adds with a smirk.
You flatten your gaze but appease him anyway, “it was fun to do this,” you start to feel your chest tighten, breath picking up, “with you-you’re just different and I mean, as stupid as you are, I liked this.”
He tips his head to the side, unsure if he feels even the slightest bit insulted but when he takes you in, perfect you under the moonlight, seeing the woman he’s tried not to fall in love with over the years, he knows you mean no harm. You always handle him with care.
“You just want to play pretend with me?” His question surprises you, it lacks footing but at the same time, it says enough.
When you allow yourself to steep in these buried feelings for Jin, the ones you've chosen to ignore until now, it says everything.
You rest your cheek on your shoulder, mulling over his question before averting your eyes upward to meet his. He stews in the coy smile spreading across your lips before you are shaking your head.
He wants to kiss you again, not because he didn’t mean it the first time, but he wants to seal this conversation in a way that confirms it all.
Instead, he follows a more known approach, one you know right away before he even says anything. You’re laughing before he gets it out, choosing to stay quiet so he can do it anyway; “oh,” he breathes, a proud smile sitting on his pouty lips, “you like me-like me, don’t you?”
You don’t laugh as boisterously as you normally would, but he doesn’t grow embarrassed because the look on your face says it all for him. He doesn’t need you to nod the way you do shortly after, inching forward until there’s no space left. He smirks into your kiss, words muffled because he refuses to detach himself from you; “me too.”
everything negative - pressure, challenges - is all an opportunity for me to rise.
- kobe bryant
SEASON OPENER: TBD
♛ half time
note: summaries and story lines may slightly change over time.
taglist: [open]; please let me know if you’d like to be added to all one shots or a specific one shot. those already on my permanent taglist will automatically be added to all.
power forward | jung hoseok
genre: love triangle (ft. min yoongi)
summary: you and hoseok had been friends for quite some time, keeping each other close with just the right amount of distance. however, hoseok realizes his feelings for you ran deeper than expected when he sees you for the first time in awhile at his game. he was ready to be honest, let you know how he felt. the only problem? min yoongi, the golden state warriors shooting guard.
warnings: ✖︎ tbd
♛ game day: ✖︎ tbd
point guard | park jimin
genre: bestfriends to lovers, unrequited love
summary: you were jimin’s bestfriend for years; supporting him through the highs and lows of his basketball career. you knew he would never have feelings for you like that, no matter how solid you had been. you were his rock, his ride or die, but you had come to the conclusion that this couldn’t be any more than what it was - no matter how much it hurt you. too bad jimin feels the same, he just can’t find the right words to tell you so.
warnings: ✖︎ tbd
♛ game day: ✖︎ tbd
center | kim namjoon
genre: marriage, husband!knj, dad!knj
summary: namjoon is a married, family man. he’s got the most beautiful and loving wife, the cutest and sweetest 3 & 5 year old boys. for the most part, life is all good. except the part that comes with being a ball player on one of the biggest teams— the money, the parties, the cars, the women. namjoon still faces the daily pressures of being in this game, all while trying to be a good husband and father to his family.
warnings: ✖︎ tbd
♛ game day: ✖︎ tbd
point guard | jeon jungkook
genre: friends with benefits, brother’s bestfriend (ft. kim namjoon)
summary: being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways.
warnings: ✖︎ tbd
♛ game day: ✖︎ tbd
power forward | kim seokjin
genre: exes to lovers, dad!ksj
summary: most people think seokjin is cold; he doesn’t try to hang out with teammates, heads to practice, plays the game, does what he does and calls it a day. isn’t necessarily interested in making friends or keeping people close. he tells people there’s no specific reason behind it— except, there is, and that reason is you and the child that you share with him. the breakup depleted him, made him think that he wasn’t worth the unconditional love and support he needed as he was growing his career. he puts in his share for the child, but doesn’t really put in the effort due to his feelings towards you. what happens when you reunite and finally come face to face with him after all these years?
warnings: ✖︎ tbd
♛ game day: ✖︎ tbd
small forward | kim taehyung
genre: enemies to lovers, age gap (5 years)
summary: the only thing taehyung despises is feeling threatened, especially when he feels like someone could actually be better at the game than he is. and yeah, there are a couple of people he could respect, a lot of players that he looks up to. but when he comes across you, a WNBA player who had been taking the press by storm, he feels the need to show you who’s really boss at this game.
warnings: ✖︎ tbd
♛ game day: ✖︎ tbd
shooting guard | min yoongi
genre: love triangle (ft. jung hoseok)
summary: yoongi was never interested in the dating game and messing around. he felt like it was too much for him to handle, especially at this point in his career. all he wanted to do was work on himself, get better and continue playing the game that he loved. but tonight, it seems like all of that changes, especially when he sees you in the crowd. he finds out a little bit more about who you are and what you come with, suddenly determined to take first place in your heart. he was going to make sure of it, and he was going to make sure people knew wasn’t one to give up.
The steam of the hot beverage in hand hits your face the moment you bring the mug to your lips. After hours of a deep sleep, you had decided that the only way forward was tea. Hot, sweet tea. A small smile places on your lips as your eyes pass over the television. It had been raining miserably all day, and all you had looked forward to was finishing work, showering and sliding into your comfiest pyjamas. You were even more excited to be sipping sweet cocoa in the comfort of your bedroom, bundled under soft, fluffy blankets, however, the moment you had climbed into bed, you had fallen asleep and thus, you were now wide awake.
You settle back against your pillows, and reach for your phone. A few Instagram notifications, a tweet and a text message. You open it, and as you do so, butterflies flurry to the pit of your stomach.
Are you awake?
Now, you knew that a lie would be easy enough to conjure up. Easier to tell him no, than to stand in front of him, hiding emotions that you were not ready to share with him just yet. Yet you also knew that the text was sent three hours prior to this moment and so it was more than likely he would be fast asleep by now. Clinging onto all hope that he were still awake, and the idea of him potentially hiding the same emotions, you begin typing.
Yup. Are you?
You text back quickly. Short, and...blunt. You shake your head quickly, sighing as you read it back. Three dots appear, the sound of him responding echoing through your small bedroom.
A response in the form of a video call bounces back from him before you can even lock your phone.
Anxiety rises in your throat and immediately, you peel yourself away from the comfort of your bed.
You ponder over the call for a few seconds, your brain scanning all the possible conversations that could follow your simple ‘hello’. He too, could be in between sleep and whimsical dreams, or he could be drunk, having wasted the night with copious amounts of red wine.
You answer, feeling beads of sweat begin to form across your forehead.
‘Jungkook,’ you grin into the camera, your phone lighting up with a full image of his face.
‘(Y/N), my love,’ he beams, before scrunching his nose and allowing a small sigh to escape his lips. ‘I need your help,’
‘What’s up?’ you breathe, furrowing your brows. 'Where even are you?' you question, frantically adjusting your eyes to the trees surrounding him.
'Well,' he grins as he holds the phone high. He takes a few steps forward. 'I'm outside,'
The panic shoots through you, your eyes beginning to water at the thought of him being outside, surrounded by the thick October chill.
'It's 2am,' you cry, leaping out of your bed and starting towards the bedroom door.
'I know,' he giggles softly before rolling his eyes. 'Please let me inside, I'm freezing,'
You hang up and hurry down the stairs, tripping over a shoe and falling into the door as you desperately fumble for the key. You pull it back quickly, your cheeks burning red.
He enters quickly, pushing past you and blowing dramatically into his cupped hands.
‘It’s so cold,’ he whispers, kicking off his shoes.
‘It’s also 2am,’ you roll your eyes, chuckling. You close and lock the door before turning on your heel to face him. ‘Tea?’ you ask, shooting him a smile.
‘Coffee would be good,’ he shrugs, running his hands over his face. ‘A blanket, too,’
You shake your head. ‘Do you ever sleep?’
‘I’m here for a reason,’ he quips, his cheeks blushing rapidly.
‘And what is that?’ you ask, brushing past him and traipsing down the hallway.
He lingers for a little while but soon follows you through to the kitchen.
You reach for a mug whilst Jungkook pauses at the door, resting his hip against the door jamb. A silence fills the kitchen, the whistling of the wind outside the only thing breaking it.
You pull yourself up onto the countertop, waiting impatiently for him to answer.
'I-', he begins but stops himself as he edges further into the kitchen.
You nod your head, encouraging him to continue.
'I went on a date tonight,' he whispers, his gaze softening.
You witness your breath catch in your throat. 'Well that's good for you,' your words are more snide than you had intended and you immediately regret speaking.
'Yeah, but it wasn't really,' he sighs as he grows closer to you, taking the mug from your hand and setting it under the coffee machine. 'It was stupid if anything,' he adds, quickly turning the machine on.
You chuckle lightly, throwing your head back. 'Was it that bad?' you ask, raising an eyebrow.
'It made me realise how much I love you,' Jungkook's voice is soft and his words are fast, his face glowing scarlet.
You blink at him, eyes widening. The butterflies that had been swarming your stomach suddenly disappear, a new form of nervousness erupts through your body, a pang of emotions; ones you had never witnessed before.
You run your hands over your face and inhale a sharp breath. ‘You love me?’ you question, unable to hide the smile that was playing on your lips.
He nods his head gently, edging closer to you as he does so. He reaches out and takes your hands in his.
‘I love you (Y/N),’ his voice is louder this time, more confident, more comfortable.
He places your hands on his hips and presses his body close to you, his lips slowly brushing against yours. ‘So, please save me from going on any more dates with girls I have no feelings for,’ he giggles, before planting a kiss on your lips.
Summary: You’re supposed to go to a Halloween party, but your boyfriends change plans after weeks of barely spending any time together. And when the angel and devil looking over your shoulder both agree, who are you to resist temptation?
Warnings: dom!Jimin, dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, threesome, oral sex (m & f receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation, creative use of ties, light bondage/blindfolding, creampie, a brief spot of rough sex, dirty talk, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you, yaknow), reader has a light corruption kink if you squint, women in suits are hot sorry i don’t make the rules (but in all honesty it was just an excuse to get the reader in a tie)
Note: a repost, part of the big blog migration. for the guys' getup, think along the lines of red filter!Jimin and zero o’clock!Taehyung 🥴
With the spooky season right around the corner, by all rights you should have been busy revelling in the pre-Halloween festivities. Most important of all; prepping your costume for Jung Hoseok’s legendary Halloween party. By all rights, except that your course work kept you so busy that you were convinced pure evil festered inside the hearts of your professors, conspiring to give you multiple deadlines on the thirty-first of October.
And that was how you ended up entrusting your boyfriends with the task of planning out a costume.
Was it a smart decision? Probably not. On more than one occasion you overheard their brainstorm sessions for throuple costumes; from the Three Stooges to the Sanderson Sisters to Mario, Luigi and Princess Peach. You’d vetoed being the sexy nun between their angel and devil—but after that they kept their ideas under wraps.
So when you left the library on a chill but sunny autumn afternoon, work finally done, it was with a mixture of trepidation and excitement that you returned to the apartment you shared with Jimin and Taehyung. Small, but affordable between the three of you. The sweet scent of caramel hung in the hallway, greeting you the moment you opened the door, followed closely by the sight of your boyfriends in full costume.
“No,” you groaned. “Guys, I vetoed this!”
“Actually, you only vetoed the nun,” Jimin pointed out, not even looking around from his work at the kitchen counter, his devil’s tail staring you in the face.
“Yeah,” Taehyung said, grinning happily at you while he readjusted the halo above his head. “Don’t worry, we got something good! Trust us!”
An actual angel telling you to trust him. What could possibly go wrong?
Clearly you had underestimated how committed they were to the ‘angel and devil on your shoulder’-bit. You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate and taking a second, closer look at the guys’ costumes.
Jimin had gone all-out, a fact that didn’t surprise you in the least. What did surprise you was the elegant suit, all in a uniform deep crimson. Pants that wrapped around his thighs and ass in a way that was appropriately sinful, a fitted shirt that showed off his waist and had just one button too many undone to be decent, completed by a jacket that fitted far better than borrowed clothes had any right to. A shimmering crimson mask covering his eyes, two horns jutting out of his silvery hair, and the smile of a tempter on his lips.
“Seokjin owed me a favour,” he said at your inspecting gaze, taking off his mask with a wink. “You wouldn’t believe what the theatre department has hidden away.”
Taehyung clearly had joined him in plundering their wardrobe, wearing a simple but handsome white suit—except for the lace shirt underneath, buttoned up all the way around his neck with a frill trim, one that also peeked out from under his sleeves. Perfectly angelic, if not for the skin exposed through the lace. However, the halo on his head looked poorly constructed, balancing precariously over his black hair, styled back to expose his forehead. Carton wings, covered by a thin layer of white paint, attached to clumsy strings of elastic around his shoulders. The gawky DIY vibe only made him more endearing to the eye, contrasting the sharpness of his suit.
He shrugged at your quirked eyebrow. “The one thing they didn’t have,” he said, flicking a finger against the halo. “Someone beat me to them, I improvised.”
“I gotta say, I thought you’d go the other way around,” you said, gesturing between the two of them. With all the quips about Jimin being an angel, you figured he’d jump at an opportunity to dress the part.
Taehyung vehemently shook his head. “Nu-uh. You know I’m a good boy,” he said decisively, pointing a thumb at himself.
“Besides, this suits me, don’t you think?” Jimin added with an airy giggle, turning around to show off every inch of his, frankly illegal, getup. “Anyway, I’m almost done with the apples, go get ready!”
“Do I even want to know what you got me?” you bemoaned, ignoring your boyfriends’ loud protests at your lack of trust. Changing into costume would give you a moment to recover from their appearance; gorgeous on even their off-days, the suits turned them downright dangerous.
And so you trudged to the bedroom, blinking in confusion at the getup you found neatly presented on the bed. But the dots slowly connected when you put the beige trench coat and red tie together. You chuckled, rubbing the back of your head and still vaguely mystified at their choice. Constantine, really? Where had that even come from? Well, could have been a lot worse.
The trench coat almost drowned you, oversized with your your hands barely popping out of the sleeves, but the white dress shirt and dark slacks underneath were a perfect fit to your size and figure—well, almost perfect. You couldn’t help but grumble as you plucked at the buttons of the shirt, just a touch tight over your chest. Those asses had done this on purpose, hadn’t they?
In the end you left a generous amount of buttons undone, the red tie dangling sloppily around your neck. The outfit was finished with black pumps, a pair that you usually only pulled out for formal occasions. Though you had no intention of wearing them to a Halloween party, too expensive even considering you’d bought them on sale, you were forced to acknowledge how well they went with the fitted pants; your legs had never looked longer.
“So, Constantine, but make it sexy? Was that the idea here?” you asked as you reentered the kitchen, pulling self-consciously at your shirt in an attempt to improve the fit. Completely missing the silent look your boyfriends exchanged, Jimin’s smile slowly curling into something sly but eager.
“We thought the tie and trench coat look’d be hot on you,” Taehyung said, his voice lowering, “and seems to me we were right.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you said dismissively, too busy appreciating the coat’s deep pockets to fully register the compliment, “but I am not going to the party in these shoes! I won’t put them in danger like that, but I think I have something that will work if I- uh?”
Before you had even realised he was walking over, Taehyung suddenly stood in front of you, leisurely playing with your red tie in one hand, the other slipping past your coat and resting on your ass, the touch light, almost casual. “Sure,” he murmured, smile crooked like his makeshift angel wings. “But first let me enjoy the view a little, okay?”
You huffed with a pout, unwilling to show just how affected his intense gaze left you. Your workload hadn’t just kept you from getting a costume, but also from Jimin and Taehyung. You missed the physical intimacy, to either spoil them or be the target of their thorough attentions, and even just Taehyung’s appreciative look and close proximity was enough to leave you a touch needy.
You were not quite ready to admit it, though, preferring to play coy and see what they would do next. “I thought you guys were in a hurry to get to Hoseok’s party,” you teased instead, a finger playing against the lace covering Taehyung’s chest, “shouldn’t we get going?”
“That can wait,” Jimin’s voice ghosted from behind you, making you jump and almost knock into him. He steadied you with a firm hold on your hips, eyes burning into the ample cleavage the dress shirt provided him perfect view of as he glanced over your shoulder.
“Didn’t know you guys had such a thing for ties,” you said, but it was not a complaint, especially when Taehyung gently pulled on yours. Slowly he brought you closer until your chests touched, smile widening as he took you in. You blinked up at him, wetting your bottom lip. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind for the future.”
Jimin brushed your hair out of the way, nosing over the length of your neck and raising goosebumps as he went. “Of course we do, just think of the possibilities,” he murmured, tongue darting out to flick at your earlobe. He let out a soft groan, rolling his crimson-clad hips into you. “God, we’ve missed you.”
The thought of your boyfriends waiting just as eagerly for this moment as you caused a pleasant glow to swell inside your chest—but only briefly, until Jimin mouthed at the patch of skin underneath your ear, wrapping that warmth into a tight heat that seared straight down to your core. One of his hands travelled up, palming at your breast through the shirt.
“I’ve missed you too,” you said, voice breathy. Your body was caught between conflicting instincts, simultaneously wanting to lean into Jimin but also press closer to Taehyung.
Then Taehyung made the decision for you, the hand on your ass squeezing as he forced your hips flush together and his mouth surged forward to meet your lips. Greedy swipes of his tongue against yours, his feverish hunger stocking your own flames, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders. Even through the slacks you felt his growing bulge, a low groan swallowed by your mouth.
Behind you, Jimin had no intentions of letting you forget about him. He rocked his hips into you, trapping you between their two solid bodies, single-handedly undoing two more buttons of your shirt. Finally his fingers brushed against bare, flushed skin, slipping inside both the shirt and your bra, kneading with a hot, firm touch.
“Know what else I missed?” Taehyung growled against your mouth, his hand reaching down to boldly cup your mound.
You squeaked at the sudden pressure, his fingers insistent even through the material of your trousers. Jimin let out a dark chuckle. “Do you want him to eat you out, huh?” he asked. “Would you like that? He’s been thinking about you, you know. About getting his mouth on that pretty pussy of yours. Tasting you.”
The devil costume never fitted him better as he whispered temptations in your ear and you let out a soft whine in response. One of your hands shot up into Taehyung’s mullet, tangling into the hair curling at his neck. He moaned happily, already tugging at your belt.
“Use your words,” Jimin insisted, then nipped at your ear. “Tell Taehyung how much you want him, hm?”
“Please, please, Tae,” you said, your hips rocking into his hand by their own accord. “Want you. Want your mouth. So much. It’s been so long, fuck.”
You felt the wicked curl of Jimin’s lips against your skin. “Good girl,” he said, rolling your nipple between his fingers.
It quickly hardened under his touch, but you barely had time to process the spark of pleasure when Taehyung wasted no time undoing your pants and yanking them down to pool at your heeled feet. You tried to toe out of your shoes, but Taehyung dropped on his knees and put a gentle yet firm hand on your ankle.
“Let’s keep these on, okay?” he breathed, his bottom lip slowly dragging up your thigh.
Alarm shot through your stomach; already your knees wobbled dangerously and the guys had barely gotten started. Taehyung kneeled in front of you, the innocence of his white costume and the improvised props all falling away at the glint in his heavy-lidded eyes when he stared up at you. He leaned in slowly, never breaking eye-contact, until his nose brushed against your underwear and he pressed a deceptively chaste kiss against the soft cotton. And there was no way you would deny him.
Meanwhile Jimin’s hand slipped out of your bra and he undid your tie, nimble fingers brushing over your chest. But instead of throwing it aside, you suddenly found your vision going dark when he put the tie over your eyes. “This alright?” he asked, his voice gentle as he checked in.
Part of you wanted to object, to see the two beautiful men crowded around you, but already a familiar buzz settled in your head as your ears strained to pick up every noise, every brush against your body unpredictable and burning. So instead you nodded eagerly, surrendering to your boyfriends while Jimin secured your tie. The impromptu blindfold was not enough to turn your world pitch-black, a tiny sliver of light peeking in from underneath, but it still functioned to leave you to their mercy, only able to guess what they were going to do next.
So when Taehyung ripped down your panties and pressed his lips against yours, you jolted at the unexpected contact. Jimin wrapped an arm around you, anchoring you against his steady frame.
A large hand nudged your legs further apart, thumb rubbing slow circles on your thigh. Fingers parted your lower lips and Taehyung let out a content sound as he finally dove in proper, greedily lapping at the slick wetness gathering there.
With a cry you threw your head back against Jimin’s shoulder, caught off guard by the urgency of Taehyung’s vigour. Long, deep swipes of his tongue that flicked over your clit with every stroke, hair tickling against your skin.
Blindly your hand reached out, knocking off his halo before you found soft locks, desperate for something to hold onto, to balance your shaking knees. You inhaled sharply when a hand brushed over your chest, fingers trailing up along your throat, until they clasped your chin and tilted your head to meet a pair of plush lips in a ravenous kiss. Your free hand grabbed onto Jimin’s wrist, every moan and high-pitched whine muffled against his tongue.
But while Jimin’s mouth ravished you, Taehyung’s suddenly disappeared. You whimpered, hips instinctively trying to follow him, but Jimin held you firm against him, a telltale hardness poking into your back.
Taehyung’s hot breath fell on your wet core, drawing a needy shudder from you. “I want to hear her,” he said, his voice gravelly, fingers on your thigh twitching.
With a final nip at your lips, Jimin released you, pressing a wet kiss on your cheek. “Think you can do that for him, babe?” he asked in a deceptively airy tone. “Let Taehyungie know how good he’s making you feel.”
A thumb found your clit, lazily rubbing against the bundle of nerves, and you let out a low “nghhh”. Your stomach clenched as you waited for Taehyung to put his mouth back on you, the lack of sight only heightening the anticipation.
Jimin tutted, the fingers on your chin drifting further up. “You can do better than that,” he said, sliding two digits past your lips, pressing down on your tongue.
As though he had been waiting for this, Taehyung latched onto your clit and sucked. You cried out, moan garbled against Jimin’s fingers. Saliva rapidly gathered in your mouth as Taehyung worked with renewed energy, spurred on by the sounds that now freely spilled from your lips.
If you had any doubts that Taehyung had missed you, they would be thoroughly vanquished by the enthusiastic drag of his tongue against you. Though you couldn’t see, you heard the wet sounds of him slurping at your dripping hole with a debauched clarity, felt the vibrations of his satisfied moans. Your ankles wobbled, Jimin’s arm strong and secure around your waist as he held you up, breathing hard against your ear and slowly grinding against your back. Then two long fingers slid inside you and the sudden breach had you wailing, drool trickling down your chin. The knot in your stomach tightened, helpless to stop the stream of jumbled cries which only fuelled Taehyung’s zeal, lips capturing your clit with a suction that rapidly pushed you towards the brink.
Your hips bucked involuntarily, so caught up by the high Taehyung had you chasing that you barely registered Jimin’s fingers leaving your mouth. Close, you were so close, the neglect of these past few weeks combining with Taehyung’s sloppy rhythm into a volatile mixture that was about to burst—until a hand curled around your fingers, tangled in Taehyung’s hair and pulled. Taehyung made a noise of complaint when he was abruptly torn away from you, Jimin’s hold on your waist unforgiving as you jerked against his steel grip in a desperate attempt to find release.
“Sshh,” he soothed you, nosing at your jawline, “did you really think you could come already? You’ve been neglecting us.”
“No, no, Jimin, I-” You bit back a sob, still twitching even as your orgasm slipped away from you, the high fading and leaving a deep, unsatisfying ache in your abdomen.
“What do you think, Tae?” Jimin said, cutting off your feeble protest. “Don’t you think she has to work for it first?”
Taehyung’s hand left your thigh and you heard the shuffle of him getting back on his feet. Gentle hands undid the tie and you whimpered at the overflow of light. A tear escaped from your lashes, though you could not be sure if it was because of the brightness or the cruel denial. Fondly Taehyung stroked your cheek, his dark hair a mess, chin and lips shiny from your arousal. Now looking a far cry from angelic, he inspected the messy lines of drool on your skin and you knew with iron certainty his hunger had not been stilled in the slightest.
“Think you’re right,” Taehyung breathed, a suggestive hand on the waistband of his slacks. “How about we have her return the favour?” He tipped up your chin, licking his lips. “How about it, princess? You’re going to be a good girl for us?”
“Yes, yes, wanna be good to you,” you babbled, wiggling impatiently against Jimin’s grip, though you knew you’d drop the second he let go, legs still shaky. He chuckled at your eagerness, gently lowering you onto your knees. Immediately you reached for Taehyung’s pants, but Jimin grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back. “Wha-?”
“Just want to make sure you behave,” Jimin said, looping your tie around your wrists with elegant efficiency.
Arousal re-ignited inside you, vulnerable and on display as you kneeled in front of Taehyung, chest pushed forward and pants down, leaving you exposed to the cool air. Jimin slipped his fingers in between the tie and your skin, making sure the knot wasn’t too tight, then patted your hair and pressed a kiss on your cheek.
“Do you even know how beautiful you look like this?” he murmured. “Served up on a platter for us.”
You whined at the praise, mouth watering at the sight of Taehyung undoing his pants. You knew perfectly well what he had in store for you, and your tongue darted out to wet your lips when he tugged down his pants and boxers in one go, just enough to free his cock. He palmed at his imposing length, heavy in his hand. A prominent vein ran along the underside and your lips parted, craning forward but stopped by Jimin’s hold on your hair.
“Such a good girl,” Taehyung sighed, his free hand clasping your chin. “You want this? Want me to stuff your mouth?” His discarded halo lay next to you on the floor, strangely appropriate. The fallen angel, succumbed to the temptation in front of him, succumbed to you, bound up and presented like an offering.
“Tae…” you keened, craving to see how far you could push him, to what kind of depraved state you could take your lovely Taehyung. Instead of answering out loud, you simply opened your mouth, tongue resting on your bottom lip.
He groaned and shuffled closer, guiding his cock to your mouth. Jimin’s hand in your hair relaxed, allowing you to lean forward and gently kiss the tip, then you loosened your jaw and slipped your lips around the head. Taehyung sucked in a sharp breath as you hummed at the faint salty taste of his precum, tongue playing against the slit.
“So hungry for him,” Jimin cooed, readjusting so he sat behind you, once again lining up your bodies against each other. From the corner of your eyes you could see the red sleeve of his jacket, arm reaching down the front of your body until he reached the apex of your thigh. Fingers teased right beside your lower lips, featherlight brushes that taunted you, never quite going where you needed them to. “Did you miss Taehyungie’s cock, baby? So pretty with your lips wrapped around him.”
Pride glowed inside you as Jimin whispered filthy praises in your ear. Usually you’d use your hands for what your mouth couldn’t reach, but with that option taken away you simply tried the best you could, widening your jaw and relaxing your throat.
Taehyung breathed hard, gently rocking his hips while his hand joined Jimin’s in your hair, fidgeting with the strands. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, eyes pinned on you as he watched you take him in deeper and deeper with every bob of your head.
Grinding into you, Jimin pressed open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue lapping at your sensitive skin while his fingers finally slid home. He honed in on your clit at once, causing a chain reaction when you jolted from the abrupt stimulation, Taehyung’s cock hitting the back of your throat. He hissed, fingers tightening as your throat constricted around him.
“That’s it, taking me so well,” Taehyung grunted, hips jerking, struggling to keep himself under control. “Fuck, I missed that sweet mouth of yours, baby.”
You moaned in response, wishing he would let some of that control slip. Drawing back, you released him from your lips and drew soft kitten licks over the underside of his length, blinking up in innocence as you teased him.
His mouth twitched, something dark luring behind his eyes—but what you did not expect was Jimin’s hand leaving you, the steady fire he’d been stocking dying out, instead his fingers slipping between yours. He whispered in your ear, “Squeeze twice if it’s too much.”
That was all the warning given before his hold on your hair shifted, cupping the back of your head as he shoved you forward, forcing you back around Taehyung’s cock. “Cheeky today, are we?” Jimin said, words cloyingly saccharine with an edge of danger as he slid back into his role. He guided you with a steady rhythm, controlled but unforgiving. “I thought you were going to be good. Guess I’ll just have to remind you how to behave.”
Your eyes teared as Jimin forced you to take the thick girth, gagging when it hit the back of your throat. But the thought to stop never even entered your mind, the feeling of being used like this dizzying, handing over full control to Jimin as he fucked Taehyung’s cock with your mouth. Your knees began to hurt while you dripped on the floor, neglected and aching. Jimin’s light touches, the earlier denial, your body was primed for a release always kept just out of reach.
Taehyung’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, a low muttering of curses under his breath as he met you with shaky thrusts, cock pulsing against your tongue. “Gonna come,” he groaned. “Want me to fill you up, hm? Show me how starved you’ve been for my cum?”
At your enthusiastic moan, Taehyung’s grin gained a salacious edge, at odds with the delicate lace of his shirt. A lock of dark hair curled between his blown eyes, the very picture of corruption. He took control from Jimin, stilling you with just the tip inside, and growled down at you. “Then suck.”
His other hand slid feverishly over his length, glossy with precum and saliva, while you mindlessly obeyed his command, keening around him when Jimin grabbed at your breast, roughly kneading the soft flesh.
Taehyung’s breath turned to stuttering gasps, a low whine escaping him when you swirled your tongue around him. Face contorted with a pained bliss, he finally spilled inside you, fingers tightening in your hair as you swallowed the hot ropes of cum, though despite your efforts some still dribbled down your chin.
But Taehyung didn’t seem to mind, still panting as he stroked your hair, hips twitching as he let you milk him until empty. He let out a shuddery groan when overstimulation set in, pulling you off his softening cock despite your noise of protest.
His satisfied smile was almost enough to distract you from the ache in your jaw, the sudden emptiness unfulfilling. You licked your lips, trying to catch every last drop, but then Jimin tilted your head and pressed his mouth on your skin, tongue greedy as he cleaned you up. Slowly he trailed up to your mouth, but instead of kissing you he just tugged at your bottom lip, swollen and sticky between his teeth.
“You okay?” he murmured when he released you, and only now you realised how affected he sounded, his heart hammering against your back. His hips slowly grinded against you, one hand playing with the remaining buttons of your shirt.
“I’m okay, god,” you said, pushing back against him. “But I wanna come, Jiminnie… wanna come so bad.”
“Do you, huh?” he chuckled. “Then it’s time to decide if you deserve a reward or punishment.”
You moaned, rubbing your ass back against him in the hopes of enticing him into giving you what you needed. To try and seduce Park Jimin was a bold move, risky even, the playing field nowhere near level, but you were desperate enough to make the attempt.
His fingers brushed over your calf as he took off your shoes and pants. “Can’t wait to get another cock in you, can you?” he purred with a mischievous smile, then gently helped you back on your feet, completely naked from the waist down. Your legs felt stiff and unsteady all at once, grateful for Taehyung’s hands on your hips to keep you upright while your knees recovered. He gave you a crooked grin, still dopey from his orgasm.
Jimin plucked at the tie wrapped around your wrists, letting out a tinkling laugh when your fingers clutched at him, desperate to be freed so you could touch your boyfriends. You ached to run your hands over their bodies, feel the heat of their skin, the muscles working underneath. “Please,” you whimpered, desperation leaking into your voice. “Jimin, wanna make you feel good too.”
“What a sweetheart,” he said, a sardonic curve to his lips. “So selfless. What do you think, Taehyung? Has she deserved it? To have that pussy filled?” He tapped at your inner thigh, a light touch that still burnt.
Taehyung hummed thoughtfully, hands squeezing around your waist. His thumbs rubbed small circles on your skin, then he slowly leaned in to press a kiss on your lips. Gentle at the start, a shallow dip of his tongue nudging against yours—until he pushed deeper, wet muscle exploring fervently. The taste of himself on your lips only seemed to spur him on, losing track of his surroundings, pulling you flush against him, cock already returned to half-mast.
Finally he broke away, leaving you breathless and yearning. “Oh, I’d say she deserves it,” Taehyung said with a playful giggle. For just a moment he lured you into believing in those carton angel wings on his back. A short moment, until Taehyung turned you around and immediately pressed his fingers against your core, a slick sound echoing through the room as he teased at your entrance. “Look at that, Min. Don’t you want to wreck that wet hole? Doesn’t she deserve to scream?”
Taehyung’s words only fanned your frenzied arousal, dripping over his fingers. Jimin stared down, his intense gaze making you squirm just as much as Taehyung’s touch did. Your gaze flitted over his appearance, from the subtle red eyeshadow to the criminally well-fitted suit to the horns poking out of his silver hair, pillowy lips set in a firm line. For just a second his expression was an unreadable mask, then he grabbed at the button and zipper of his crimson slacks.
“Lucky girl,” he said, turning on the charm, his entire body radiating allure as he stepped closer, crowding into your space. Just like Taehyung, Jimin only pulled down his trousers as far as he had to to take out his cock, tip weeping and skin flushed an angry red. “But you’ll have to hold on tight, with how hard I’m going to fuck you.”
Once again proving what an efficient team they were, Taehyung instantly undid your tie, throwing it to the side. Just for good measure he took off the remainder of your clothes too, leaving you naked between them. The lace of his shirt pressed against your bare back, cock nested against your ass while his hand slid back between your thighs.
Meanwhile, you gratefully took advantage of your freedom by clutching onto Jimin with one hand, the other cupping his cheek. You tried to bring him in for a kiss but he resisted, instead doing an experimental swipe through your folds, fingers brushing against Taehyung’s. They came back glazed with your juices, bringing a graceful smile to his face. “God, you’re drenched,” he said. “If I’d known a few weeks without us would turn you into such a desperate mess… We might have to do this again sometime.”
Just the thought of going so long without your boyfriends again made you squirm, shaking your head. “Please, Jimin, plea—ah!”
He chuckled while Taehyung shoved two fingers inside you, a quick pump that left you reeling. Taehyung moaned, mouthing at your neck. “So wet,” he growled. “I bet you can just slide right inside her, no prep needed.”
Your head spun at the sudden fullness, but it was not enough, not near enough. You nodded in vehement agreement, babbling senselessly for Jimin, for his cock. He grabbed at your ass with a pleased glint in his eyes, then put his hands on your thighs and lifted you up. Taehyung’s grip on your hips returned and you squeaked as they pinned you between them, legs wrapping around Jimin’s waist. And in one smooth motion, he thrust inside you.
You cried out, your entire body rearing to life as you finally got what you craved. True to his word, Jimin’s fast pace had you scrambling at his shoulders, nails digging into his jacket. The fluid snap of his hips quickly had you chasing that high again, pressure in your abdomen rising.
Behind you, Taehyung groaned as he rutted against you, fully hard and matching Jimin’s pace. His hands squeezed almost painfully, laboured breath falling against your ear. Whispering praises, punctuated by stray curses, unravelling at the portent of his second climax.
However, you could not focus on Taehyung for long, your attention demanded by Jimin who brought you back to the precipice almost alarmingly fast. Though by no means small, he was not as big as Taehyung—but did that even matter with the way his hips swivelled against yours? Agile and precise, knowing just how to hit the right spots. Leaving your brain and body unable to keep up with the barrage of pleasure, sparks running through your limbs all the way to your extremities, toes and fingers clenching as you clung onto Jimin. Finally your mouth found his, the sloppy press of his tongue betraying his own impending climax.
Jimin grunted against you and adjusted his grip, one arm snaked underneath you and trusting Taehyung to help keep you up, while the other slipped between your bodies. Thumb circling your clit, he grinned in satisfaction when you jolted in their hold.
“That’s it,” he gasped, never letting up on his rhythm. “You can come now. Let go.”
His encouragements, how he rolled your clit between two fingers, Taehyung’s low curses, all of it wrapping up into a sharp lance of heat, pounding deeper into you with every smack of Jimin’s hips against yours, every drive of his cock inside you. You garbled out a cry, clamping around him when all that pressure was released, throwing your muscles into a spasm. Jimin swore under his breath, stuttering against you, your tightening walls dragging him over the edge with you. With soft but high-pitched moans he spilled hot inside you, uneven whines muffled against your lips.
You began to wiggle in his grasp when his fingers stayed firm on your clit, prolonging your orgasm until pleasure edged into pain, his cock deep inside you. Jimin shushed you with deceptively tender kisses, languid drags of his tongue against yours. Thighs quaked as your legs began to slip from around his waist, but Taehyung’s hands stayed firm on your hips, forcing you to take it.
Even the emptiness as Jimin slipped out of you could offer no relief. Your nails dug into his jacket, sight blurring with unshed tears; the rest of the world disappearing as you basked in the overstimulation even while your body tried to escape it. Then his fingers were gone, lips planting soft kisses on your jawline as he grabbed your ass, pulling you firmly against him.
The loss sent your mind spinning, the reprieve both welcome and unsatisfying—but you only got a moment to adapt before you felt Taehyung press against you, tip gliding through your swollen folds. “Want me to fuck you, princess?” he rasped. “You’re still hungry for more cock, aren’t you?”
“Ngh,” you whimpered uselessly, head lolling back against Taehyung, cheek pressed against the white lace.
“Of course she is,” Jimin answered for you, with a tired but sly grin, perfectly matching his costume. “So greedy, our girl.”
You nodded, trying to angle your hips towards Taehyung while you finally found your voice. “Need you, please, Tae, I need you inside me.”
Taehyung inhaled deeply, nosing at your hair as he slicked himself up with the mixed juices of you and Jimin. “Then you’ll get me,” he said, and you barely had time to process his words before he pressed inside, a divine stretch as he filled you. He hissed, chest hammering against your cheek, and right away you knew he wouldn’t last long.
It didn’t matter.
Fingers digging into your ass, Jimin latched onto your breast, sucking and biting at the supple flesh. Combined with the frantic thrusts of Taehyung, hitting your g-spot with every drag, you could not withstand their attentions for long. Even without direct stimulation against your clit, you rushed towards a second high, swelling up from deep inside your stomach. Jimin’s teeth tugged at your nipple, Taehyung’s hips smacked against your skin—everything weaving together into an undeniable force that gradually built up into an intense surge, hot tendrils spreading through your body, wrapping around you until they snapped. Your back arched as you came, convulsing in your boyfriends’ arms, jaw slack with a soundless cry.
Taehyung groaned, slamming into you until his hips faltered, hot ropes of cum mingling with Jimin’s. Panting hard, he slipped out of you, and you felt the slow leak of their combined seed on your thighs.
Gently they set you back on your feet, careful to make sure you did not fall over right away. You chuckled at how delicately they handled you now, soft touches over your sweaty, naked skin. The contrast between their almost fully clothed bodies was not lost on you—though their once pristine suits were now crumpled and soiled with sweat and other bodily juices.
“Seokjin is going to kill you two,” you laughed, reaching out to run your hands through their dishevelled hair.
Taehyung pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Totally worth it.”
“And what about the party?” you said, suppressing a shiver as the heat dissipated and you began to feel the chill.
“Hm, there’s always next year,” Jimin said airily, wrapping his arms around you. “How about we get you cleaned up first?”
Pairing(s): Reader x Namjoon, mentions of OT7 x reader
Summary: It’s just another day by the cool mountainside of SOOP in the Castle and Namjoon is eager to spend some much needed quality time together, so naturally, that includes bike rides, talking about art and books, and...😜
Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language; smut (fem-reader; fingering; nipple play; cowgirl/riding; spanking; multiple orgasms; penetrative sex - Namjoon’s this big, sweaty mess 🥵); fluff -basketball tips from Yoongi 😂; Taehyung saving food for you because he’s just that nice 🥺 - idol!AU - established polyamory relationship - the setting is the accommodation from in the SOOP 2!
“I asked them to give some helmets in size small…” Namjoon muttered, his eyes fixated on the way he was clasping the straps of the bike helmet over your head, two fingers in the space under your chin so it didn’t pinch. Stood on the pebbled ground, you moved your head to see several mountain bikes lined up in a small nook.
Namjoon’s hair stuck out in random points, sandy coloured tips lightened by the sun, you see the darker undercut, trimmed close to his scalp. Dressed in a white shirt and blue shorts that had a line down the side that read ‘FILA,’ his tanned complexion was more evident, the collection of faint moles on his face were stark, the one under his bottom lip is darker. As he concentrated on making the helmet fit you, you looked down and see long legs, shapely calves that led to simple black slides, snugly moulded to his feet since he wore them so often.
“The ground’s gonna be so rough on my ass,” you said, placing your hand over the streamlined seat that appeared tougher than it looked. Namjoon laughed, adjusting the helmet once more then retrieving a pair of sunglasses from his pocket.
“These ride really smoothly because the tires can absorb the shock of the uneven grounds,” he said. “And it wasn’t so bad when I rode it. Wear this, it’s blinding by the time we get to the bottom slope.”
You lifted the sunglasses over your eyes and the scenery was bathed in a dark tint. While he busied himself with putting on his own helmet, you mounted one of the bikes, wincing at how the seat was far too high. Wearing cycling shorts was only a thin layer so you felt every contour. Namjoon stole a glance, his smile appearing as you were on your tip toes, walking the bike to you position yourself to pedal. The sunglasses were slipping so you scrunched your nose.
“You look like an amateur,” he laughed, grabbing he handle as you wobbled slightly. Blowing some of the hair from your face, you flicked the gears and rang the bell attached.
“Hey, I did the same route you did for the Bukhan river,” you replied, his teasing igniting your drive to pedal faster and further than him. He put on his own pair of sunglasses and you see that wisps of hay coloured hair peeked from the border of his helmet. With his wheels in line with yours, he placed one foot on the pedal and enclosed his hands over the handlebars.
You secured yourself over the seat, squinting at the road ahead.
Gaining momentum, you both cycled at a leisurely pace, silent for the moment as you familiarised yourself with the differing textures of the path. Each time you pedalled down you lifted your hips to ensure that the seat wasn’t bumping against you uncomfortably, but you found that he was right, the bike operated smoothly over the road. Namjoon twisted the handlebars, veering closer to you as the wind skimmed your skin. Slim tree trunks blurred into a melt of brown and green; soon, the scenery gave way to fields on the right and a forest of trees on the left.
“It’s so pretty!” You exclaimed, coasting on the bike and standing up to take advantage of the view of countryside scenery, fields of green dotted with bursts of colour, pink and blue flowers, nestled in shoots of grass. Namjoon kept up with you, his quads shaping the fabric of his shorts, each push of his foot rendered the wheels to roll faster, no threat of oncoming cars or riders ahead. He halts by a portion of cemented path, lined by low metal borders typical of countryside road. Electrical poles slanted where the earth gave way, its thick black lines slacken and casting shadows on the beige path. Your shadow was shorter as the sun was so high in the sky, heating exposed skin.
“The selfies I sent you from before, they were taken around here," he said, proud that the picture wasn't far from the actual scene.
You remembered how he was wearing a red t shirt that time. Wanting some memories for yourself, you take out your phone, clicking on the shutter several times while he photobombed the final bursts, making you laugh at the funny faces he would pull. Mounting the bikes once more, you readied yourself for the upcoming ride; Namjoon squinted at the end of the road, where it showed magnificent mountains that seemed washed out by the sun.
“Want to ride to the end and back?” He asked.
“Race you?” You challenged, pedalling off without waiting for answer, hearing his cry of betrayal from behind.
Yoongi’s laugh was loud and unapologetic as you tried to shoot the ball into the hoop. Needless to say, it failed, careening from hitting the back of the rim onto the sandy surface. After your bike ride, Namjoon had disappeared into the main house to cool off so you sauntered down the slope and found Yoongi shooting hoops, each attempt effortlessly clearing the net.
“I would appreciate it if you’d coach me instead of laugh at me,” you complained, scooping the ball in your arms and walking backwards to give enough distance between you and the net. He came over next to you, blonde hair lightened by the sun, pale skin stark against the black shirt he wore.
“You shoot the ball like Jimin,” he said.
“How does he do it?” You asked, glancing at the main house where Jimin was using water guns against Hoseok, his basketball jersey thoroughly soaked and sticking to his skin. Upon seeing you, he dropped it suddenly and began to run down the hill, leaving Hoseok to dive back in the pool. Yoongi smiled again, dragging his tongue along his bottom lip to contain his laughter.
“Your centre of gravity's not where it should be, you stick your butt out too much.”
Jimin, in a bid to preserve his posterity, came to your side, panting from his jog. Giving you a quick kiss on the cheek in exchange for taking the ball from your hand, he dribbles it, covering the ground in quick movements.
"I do a lot of squats Hyung, you know that," Jimin replied.
Soaked from the water, his hair darkened and stuck together on his forehead, his arms were exposed, sculpted and sinewy. They flexed as he attempted another shot. Yoongi exhaled a small laugh as the ball clattered against the back, Jimin's noise of frustration ringing in the air.
"Jimin-ah, you're making yourself look bad."
In response, Jimin keeps going out of anger, not changing anything about his posture, even adding a slight exaggeration where he stuck his ass out mid-leap. You laughed as the ball bounces, misses the hoop, hits the floor and rolls away. You look at Yoongi's smug smile, feel the way his hand clamps around your waist as he walked over to you.
"He might wring your neck," you replied, taking his hand and leading him to the mesh basket that was filled with basketballs and foot volleyballs. You picked up a basketball and splayed both hands over the rubbery surface, the ridges poking your palms, the weight seemed heftier.
“One thing though is that your hand position is fine, you’re good to push the ball from the rest of your hand rather than on your fingers. Unlike someone who retracts their fingers when they throw,” he said.
Jimin huffed nearby, aggressively bouncing the ball to launch it in the air. It misses again, barely hitting the rim. He laughs out of disbelief, his hair leaping from his brow. He looks up, his eyes narrowing at Yoongi.
“Show us then, hyung.”
Without pause, Yoongi takes the ball from Jimin and jerks his head so that his flaxen hair didn’t get in the way. He backs up, stands where it appears to be the equivalent of the centre line and takes a look at the basket as if to evaluate. You and Jimin stood next to each other, the sides of your arms touching. Yoongi says your name and gives you that open-mouthed smirk, confident and assured.
“This one’s for you.”
He launches the ball in the air, it travels at a careful arc, up, up, and up, then it begins its descent, as if in slow motion, the projection is good. You and Jimin grab at each other like fanatics in the final game of the season, Yoongi watches, arms crossed, pensive yet assured, convinced of a good outcome and begins to turn back.
Unfortunately, while the ball was in the position to make it, it clatters at the part where the ring is connected to the back, bouncing pathetically away from its goal and back onto the floor.
Peals of uncontrollable laughter from both you and Jimin, clutching at your stomachs at Yoongi’s adorable fault, who hid his face in his hands, his shoulders jerking up and down as he laughed with you. Resurfacing, his face is flushed red, he pressed his lips together, the knit of his brow signalling embarrassment.
“My track record is still better than both of yours combined,” he said.
You didn’t care, you weren’t going to let him hear the end of this. Jimin retrieved the ball, dribbles it, then assumes the position.
“Hyung, this one’s for you.”
This time, it makes it through the net, swishing in response. Yoongi embraces you from behind, hiding his face in your neck while you laughed as Jimin continued to make subsequent, successful shots.
It’s later in the day and the gym behind the kitchen was empty save for you and Namjoon. Two yoga mats, side by side, your attention on correcting your posture as you stretched. He was dressed in his usual ensemble, sleeveless exercise shirt and simple black shorts. You, on the other hand, assumed that your outfit had purposes other than being functional. Namjoon sneakily placed them out while you were out last night, swimming with Taehyung.
After your bike ride, you wanted to fit in some stretching and Namjoon innocently hovered by the couch where indistinct clothing were neatly folded, his eyes swooping down to them every so often, until you asked what was up. Full of pauses, like when he was thinking of how to say something rather than what to say, he ended up shyly requesting that you wear them instead because he thought you’d look nice in it.
Now, the simple pair of black hot pants and then a cropped bra to match clung tight over your body. Innocuous at first glance, you didn’t complain much until it came to lunges meant to open up your hips more. One leg positioned in front of the other, bent at the knee with the other leg is positioned behind you. The issue lay in your bottom half. Rather unladylike, you wound your hand back to tug the shorts down, which was practically buried in your ass. Namjoon’s eyes followed your actions, wobbling from his form.
“What’s next?” You muttered, face heating up as the scant fabric was bunching up once more.
He examined both of your forms in the mirror, eyes narrowing as he contemplated.
“Lie down, like facedown on the floor,” he said, beginning his demonstration.
You did so, limbs already trembling because you were required to bend your elbows whilst placing your hands flat on the mat, in line with your lower ribs, toes tucked and inhaling sharply. Namjoon made a small grunt before pushing up, a loud exhale to signal his focus, tanned and brawny arms straightening, his chest opening up, broad and bursting from his shirt. You faltered, realising that you weren’t really breathing, seeing the sandy tips of his hair sticking up cutely from lying down earlier.
“I was told to elongate my spine but I’m still working on that,” he mumbled, face twisting as he lowered down onto his stomach. You both stay like that, holding the position, mutually trembling and laughing at how much of an amateur you both were.
“I was reading the Midnight Library and -” you said, pushing your ass up and back, trying to appear like an arrow but every muscle twinged, so you went slower. Namjoon made the same pose, again grunting, with effort to lift his body weight. Both of your heads were upside down, the blood rushing to that direction, giving you a rush. You feel the tips of your toes and fingers tingle. “And I found it pretentious in some parts.”
Namjoon shook his head, the light coloured strands of his hair flattened at the sides. He then moved, to sit on the mat, to which you followed, despite knowing that it was out of sequence and probably the last move you’ll make.
“Yeah, it definitely lacked some subtlety, when I got deeper into the book, there were parts that didn’t need to be spelt out, the author could have left spaces for us to figure out the message.”
While seated, you raised your thigh and ass, hooking your finger on the hem and tug it down once more. Then, you extend your leg, torso twisting slightly as you stretched your hamstring while Namjoon pressed his long legs together, sweeping his arms forward then up. You take a deep breath, having the opportunity to discuss, the pages flip in your mind, the story coming back like a film reel.
“It read like this self-help manual instead of an enjoyable fiction. The main character wasn’t limited or lacked the choice from the outset, she could have made the most of her opportunities,” you began.
Namjoon glanced at you, an amused smile on his lips, dimples indenting his cheeks, tanned skin flush with rose. He lets you spontaneously launch into an oral book review. You switch to stretch to your other leg, feeling more tension there so you winced. Next to you, he lay on his back, eyes to the ceiling, thinking through your words.
“Okay, so what I got was that the book hinged on the idea of regret - mostly Nora’s and this library was the overarching metaphor for all the potential lives she could have had but the way she was portrayed -”
You halt your stream of consciousness to join Namjoon on the floor. The yoga mat is firm on your shoulder blades; your view becomes the white ceiling, the blood rushing back everywhere, your limbs warm, muscles no longer tensile. In your peripheries, he is contemplative, blinking slowly and jutting his jaw, thinking more.
“The thing is, she was privileged, but she was so caught up into this exaggerated idea of success, which, by the way, only few can achieve, like you guys,” you said, your voice sounding different lying completely flat as you gestured to him to emphasise your point. He grabbed your hand, twining fingers together, his palm larger than yours.
“Wow - you really hated Nora,” he mused, pulling your hand towards him more.
“I didn’t hate her, it wasn’t inventive or insight, and on the back of that, the book made it seem like in order to overcome your depression, all you have to do is change your outlook, it’s not that simple…” you said, ending your review since Namjoon had managed to raise you up to a sitting position, fingers raking his hair to all sorts of ways.
“What about Berger’s?”
You reached inside your mind, flipping through the books you agreed to read between you. Namjoon tilted his head, gauging your micro expressions.
“Ah - Ways of Seeing? Now that’s a book, thanks for recommending,” you grinned. Namjoon laughed, helping you up, pulling you close, his hands on your back, sliding lower, fingers skimming the hem of the shorts, tugging down then up.
“I know you how much love non-fiction books nowadays,” he murmured, lips hovering over yours as you smiled, your back bowing backwards to adjust to the height difference.
A sudden ruckus caused you both to crane your heads to the door, Jungkook and Jimin’s laughter is clear through the maze of corridors that made up the main house. Bam’s claws scampered on the grey floors, quick barks that punctured the quiet in the air. Namjoon laced his fingers through yours.
“Let’s go out this way,” he said, leading you to the sliding doors, shoving it open, tucking you underneath his arm securely.
On the top floor of the house, Namjoon’s bedroom door was ajar, the curtains drawn close together. You sat on the chair, leafing through the new stack of paperbacks he brought over. He emerged from the corner, running a towel vigorously through his short hair. You were dressed differently, similar shorts but now, you were wearing one of his shirts, charcoal with a distressed collar.
“Frieze is launching an art fair next year in Seoul,” you said, recalling how you received an alert in your inbox.
He took a seat in front of you, light grey shirt and navy shorts, taking the book you were talking about earlier from your hands. The blinds were raised and in the natural light, you see him, bare faced, the small moles that dotted his skin, amber coloured eyes and inquisitive brow, poised to discuss. He extended his legs beneath the table, cool skin rubbed against yours, then he somehow managed to drag you closer to the edge by hooking his feet at the legs of your chair. The bottom scraped the floor, and you laughed as you steadied yourself.
“Contemporary art?” He asked, while you nodded in response.
“They’ve got a dedicated section on old Master’s though.”
“I was looking into getting some pieces from George Condo,” he added, flipping through the foreword of a museum book he brought along.
You remembered him telling you about Condo’s work. The one’s you saw had cartoonish lines that were usually charcoal paired with blocks of colour, several figures layered over each other to form an abstract crowd. The latest catalogue you saw showed that he could also do oil paintings of singular figures, rounded shapes with odd teeth that skewed from their mouths, and asymmetrical eyes.
“I liked the sculptures you showed me that one time, from Ugo Rondinone,” you informed, remembering the fluorescent coloured totem poles that could either be small or huge.
Namjoon grinned, whipping out his phone to show pictures of his recent gallery visit with a miniature version of what you were talking about. Few pictures whizzed past, some interspersed with pictures of Moni and then stolen pictures of you when half-asleep. You grabbed his phone, slightly embarrassed that you got caught dozing off during a movie that Yoongi wanted to watch for the longest time.
“I didn’t mean to sleep for that,” you said, pinching your fingers so that the image became enlarged. You saw yourself leaning on Jimin’s shoulder while he carefully supported your chin, your skin illuminated in orange and red owing to the scene before you.
“You were so cute though, telling us that you knew who the culprit was even though you slept through the whole thing,” he laughed, bursts of air that ended up in spreading his grin even more. He takes a few torn pages from a notebook and a spare pen.
“An exhibition I went to recently showed an artist focusing on the idea of social constructs, so for example,” he said, drawing what looked like a crane, then surrounded it with the outline of a blob. You tucked yourself forward so he slid the paper so that you could view it better. You loved it when he was explaining the concepts that he took away from his excursions, it was nice that he would create a conversation with you based on one trip alone.
“The artworks were very direct, even uncomfortable. One took the notion of obedience and explored the interplay with authority.”
He then stops drawing for the moment to pause. You observe how he tilts his head, eyes blinking as if to code the information. Then, he abandons the drawing. From the lengthy pause, you knew that he had adopted a different way of articulating his point.
“Basically, the artwork was showing how one particular piece couldn’t move without the authority of the other,” he said, leaning back on the chair. You thought about it for a moment, recalling the theme.
“The other piece must have something it wants or needs, then.”
Namjoon nodded, looking down on the surface of the table, blinking at the recollection. You see the small, silver hoops on his ear, the way his hair was drying made it look softer.
“I thought about how similar parallels can happen in real life. Certain people can have authority over others but in some cases, there are those who allow themselves to let other person have authority over them even if that’s bad for them or goes against what they believe in,” he said.
You thought it over, finding that what he was getting at seemed grounded on well-established practices.
“Yeah, there’s a lot of things we agree to without realising,” you said. Namjoon nodded, his gaze darting to the side, what often happened when he was chasing that train of thought that could easily escape him.
“When I was younger, my father made me go to tutors for extra guidance for my classes. He said that if I attend each class up until I graduated high school, he’d buy me a new computer to replace the old one. I wanted that because I could make music that way.”
You followed his story, leaning atop the table with your elbows on the surface, fingers laced together so that your chin could rest on top, attentive.
“Mostly, the tutors were amicable but one of them - the one for history - was treating me with disrespect every chance they got. And I was thinking, ‘He knew nothing about me, we weren’t even friends, I’m not even paying him directly,’ so why am I even doing all of this?” He added, changing the tone of his voice to mimic someone realising that they’ve been doing everything right only to get the short end of the stick. You smiled at the memory of Namjoon being younger and probably wanting to leave the lesson as soon as it began.
“You let them have power over you because of your father. He had something you wanted,” you said. Namjoon smiled, running his hand behind his head, disturbing the short strands. The mole beneath his lip appeared more prominent, along with the other constellations of moles on his cheeks.
“Namjoon was meant to be my personal trainer but he bailed,” Jin said, pushing a grape past his lips. The towel he had on since the morning was still draped on his neck.
Jungkook was diligently wiping down the cooktop while Jin meandered around the kitchen, dragging the grey caddy full of spices and seasonings. There was no purpose to that, he simply felt like having a companion. Dinner was soon and most have gathered in the main house, save for you and Namjoon.
“But I saw him workout this morning, hyung,” Jungkook replied, grabbing some tongs on the counter and contracting his fist so that they made noise. Jin sighed, filling a medium sized pot with water. Yoongi entered the space, dragging his feet with a beer in hand as he rummaged in the pantry for some chips.
“He even said, ‘Hyung, I’ll teach you how to achieve ten hang raises,’ but where was he? Nowhere.”
Jin flicked his hair away from his face, the strands poking his eyelids.
“I need to trim my hair,” he muttered, hefting the bowl onto the cooktop.
Jungkook scrunched his nose as he smiled widely.
“Go back to the choppy bangs, hyung.”
Jin shot him a look, his eyes puffy from napping all day. Yoongi raised his can in agreement, two bags of chips secure under his arm.
“Choppy bangs, choppy bangs,” he sang, sliding into the living room where the sound of the karaoke machine started and Taehyung was testing the mic. The sound of “Ah, Ah, Ah,” carried over to the kitchen, echoing due to the tall ceilings and lack of furniture. Jin sighed, jerking his head to the side as Jungkook laughed through his nose.
You loved it when Namjoon was articulate but not as much as you loved it when he stuttered.
“Ah, s-shit,“ he sighed, his hands hovering over your ass as you adjusted yourself on top of him.
The events that came prior to this were fuzzy to you. Tired from the days activities, you both took a nap, cloaked in darkness, sound asleep until Namjoon’s phone blared an alarm. Content to stay where you were, you used the time to gently ease yourself into being awake, acknowledging that you were well rested, heads sunk onto the pillows, the sheets draped over you both, trapping heat. One moment, you were sharing ideas about art and books, Namjoon’s gravelly voice echoing in the room, the next, you were grinding on top of him, fast becoming wet.
"Oh fuck, Joon," you moaned, dragging your hips over his crotch.
There were clothes on your body that needed to leave but you were hampered by the need to get closer. The room was darker, the curtains over each other, blocking out shafts of light, the air is rarified, the rustle of the sheets mixing with your soft groans.
The next time you felt his touch, it was on your hips, then under the shirt he had given you, up over bare skin, insistent fingers, hooking underneath the bralette you wore. He shifted, his large hands moulding over your waist, down to the slope of your hips, controlling how you rubbed up and over his hardening erection, igniting heat that had pleasure coiling all over you. The closer you got, the more the clothes you wore got in the way.
Shifting more, he ducked his head, nipping at a spot on your neck underneath your ear, eliciting a deep moan from the back of his throat, liquifying your insides, while his hands tugged at your skin under your shirt, making you gasp into his mouth, lips on lips, the brief clashing of teeth as you smiled.
“You smell really good,” you murmured, noting the airy scent that permeated his skin and clothes, hints of cedar and citrus against his own natural scent.
“Thanks to you,” he replied, looking up at you though his lashes, his hands coming down to tug the hem of your shirt up, splaying fingers over your waist, sitting up to lean into you, lifting your hips slightly, his cock throbbing under the layers of clothing. He kissed a trail along your lip, full lips finding home on your skin, along your jaw, eventually back to your lips, the slow slide of his tongue bringing out soft moans from you.
“Yeah but it smells different in the bottle. On you…” you said, in between gasps as he nipped your earlobe, warm breath fanning the loose strands of hair near there.
You couldn’t think, succumbing to the sensation of how he couldn’t keep his hands off you.
“On y-you, ah,” you moaned, feeling his tongue soothe the spot where he kissed, his grip tightening over you, the rock of your hips more forceful.
“What about it being on me?”
Your eyes fluttered close, light-headed, overwhelmed by the heat from him, the feel of his muscles contracting as he handled you, strong arms caging you in. Your hands found themselves on his shoulders as he murmured your name in that deep drawl, vibrating against skin and bone. You pressed your forehead on his as he continues to move your hips in his grip, long fingers sinking over your ass, the shirt falling down over your body. You didn’t think you could get this wet this quickly over grinding but here you were, your underwear ruined.
You couldn’t answer even if you wanted to. He secures his hands near your ribs, lifting you to your knees, yanking your shirt off in one fluid motion, it flutters to the side of the bed, disappearing like your thoughts. Your hold on his shoulders tightened, for fear of your whole body melting then and there. Long fingers tug your bra down, his lips part, his breathing ragged, a hand cups your breast, a little rough but you groaned, unable to keep still from his attention.
His hand slides up in between your shoulder blades, he pushes you so that you arched towards him, closing his mouth over your nipple, the scrape of teeth then the soothe of tongue, sucking on sensitive skin that made you tremble, arms wounding over his head as you gasped. Your whole body tightened under his hold, the sandy tips of his hair mussed up with how your fingers came up to tug, nails raking over his undercut while his palm grazed along your spine, your back bowing more, his voice a mere groan as he tugged at your nipple with his teeth, hard enough to force a hiss from your lips.
“Let’s skip dinner,” he muttered and you felt yourself clench around nothing, holding your breath for an eternity, watching as his eyes glazed over.
You didn’t care what you skipped, in fact, you didn’t care about much in that moment.
“Yeah, whatever,” you said, your voice strained.
Namjoon laughs on your skin, warm puffs of air that caused you to shiver, writhing against him as you tried to rub your thighs together for some relief but the bulk of him in the way. His mouth was on you again, tongue over the other nipple, licking and sucking, driving you mad with need. You didn’t even notice the way his hand had slipped past the hem of your shorts, tugging down, exposing you further, fabric cutting your thighs. The first slide of his finger along your slit had your hips jerking away from his touch, so sensitive, so wet. Heat explodes, unfurling like tendrils, consuming you all over.
“Fucking perfect,” he murmured, seemingly to himself rather than to you, pushing his finger up, sinking into your folds, wet and smooth, coating him generously. Your hands clutch his shoulders, your teeth cutting your lower lip as he parted your folds, two fingers in your tight heat, the heel of his palm against your clit, sparking electricity, causing you to curl into him, the pleasure thrumming through you that you couldn’t even muster a single thought apart from how good it felt.
“J-joon,” you moaned, rocking your hips in a gentle motion, his fingers going deeper, his mouth on your nipple, licking, sucking, kissing, his own voice hoarse and laboured as he says your name followed by, “Fuck.”
He shuffles up the bed, taking you with him, back against the headboard, fully clothed while you were practically naked, his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, pistoning in and out, torturously slow, as if painting each sensation into your body. His thumb grazed your clit and your hips buck up in response, pressing yourself onto him, the cotton of his shirt creased because of how hard you holding onto it. You couldn’t hold back all the moans and whimpers once he found a rhythm, wet, obscene noises that cut through the air, your vision fluttering into darkness as you met him halfway. It was all too much, his mouth on your skin, his fingers deep in your pussy, fucking you fast and hard, rubbing your clit expertly. You grab his hair, arching into him, orgasm building, you at the precipice as he works your desire into frenzy.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped.
His arm tenses, going faster than before, keeping you there, tipping you over the edge that you came, slamming his head onto you, trapping him as you rode it out, the waves coming in pulses as you spilled onto his hand, dripping down to his wrist, thighs trembling from oversensitivity. He breathes out on your skin, warm puffs of air that made goosebumps erupt all over, reality coming back to you slowly, in pieces. He looks up at you, breathing hard as he gently pulls his hand down, glistening under the dim light. Mussed up tufts of hair, hay coloured with darkened roots, sharp eyes that were amber in the afternoon and pitch in the night, they looked at you, taking on an intensity that had your heart fighting against your ribcage.
“C’mere and ride me.”
Needing no further instruction, you hop off him, trembling slightly from the aftershocks but steady enough to swipe your shorts down and yank your bra up and over your head. He doesn’t do anything, simply laying there as you reunited with him, your searching hands taking his shift off, revealing the sculpture of his body that he kept so well hidden underneath oversized shirts. You see the beginnings of abs, toned grooves that were tensed as you worked to tug his shorts down, his cock, throbbing and heavy, the tip leaking pre-cum. Powerful legs, carved and defined, thighs flexing in tense anticipation while you put your hands out, touching the hard pectoral muscles and sweep your touch, thumbs grazing his dark nipples to his arms of corded muscle, the ones that can lift and carry so easily, and now flexed as you held them down, as you surveyed him under your gaze.
You see the tilt of his smile, the way his mouth is parted, dimples forming on his tanned skin. You grab the condom and tear it, sheathing his cock, tugging it down to the base, seeing the way his face flickers from how sensitive he was. He takes his cock, running the head over your soaked folds, holding it still as you sank over it, carefully, your walls stretching, the sensation of fullness drawing a moan from you.
“T-tight, ah… shit,” he gasped as you placed both hands on his chest as he kept his gaze to where you were connected.
You lean down, mouth over his, gasping as he thrust shallowly, in and out, your juices coating his cock, his hands kneading your ass, spreading it and letting it go so that it bounced back, soft flesh against his firm muscles. You move, rocking back and forth, grinding your swollen clit over the planes of his body while kissing him deeply, the shove of his tongue muffling your whines, the scent of citrus and cedar filling your senses, desperate gasps as you arched into him, clenching around his cock, your fingers on his short hair, pulling with each thrust.
“F-fuck,” you moaned, grinding down hard, keeping friction where it mattered, surroundings hazy, mind numb as Namjoon’s legs spread beneath you, folding upwards, forcing his cock deeper as you sat up, your hands flying to the headboard, palms over the faux leather, pushing back your hips in equal fervour. His grunts came from the back of his throat, his face pinching at how you rode him hard and fast, hips rolling in a blinding pace, sweat breaking out on his tanned skin, broad muscles firm and tense. Your hands wound back, settle on his knees, using that as leverage to bounce on his cock. His eyes meet yours and you gasped as you slowed, his gaze far to intense, all on you.
“Want to get fucked hard?” He asked, his voice steady, your hips slowing down to a teasing grind. You bit your bottom lip, smiling at his words.
“Yeah,” you breathed. Instantly, you feel him adjust his body, shifting down the bed so that he was completely flat on his back.
“Come here and hold onto me,” he instructed, and you lay over him, the heat of his body spurring yours as your arms draped over his shoulders, you could feel his heart thudding against his chest, “lay your head on me, relax,” he said, his deep voice is clear against your ear, making you pulse over his cock. His arms secure themselves over you, pressing you onto him more, burying his cock in your pussy.
You hear him hiss at the sensation, distracting you from the fact that his hands were moving again, one on the crease of your leg and hip, the other cupping your ass. This all happens in seconds and soon, he’s pounding into you relentlessly, knocking the wind out of you as you held on, the slap of skin against skin loud in the walls of the room, the bed shuddering from the force of how hard he was fucking you.
“Oh fff-fuck,” you yelped, tucking your head at the crook of his neck, your entire body at his mercy, each upward thrust in the altered angle had your eyes rolling at the back of your head. His grunts are caught at the shell of your ear, mixed with gasping and panting, his muscles hard and impressed on your soft flesh, the backs of your thighs stinging from the repeated thrusts, the shove of his cock causing your pussy to stretch, feeling so filled that you couldn’t hold back your moans. There was nothing on your mind, nothing at all, blind to the outside world, enveloped in sensation. He keeps you in his hold, his hips snapping up and down, over and over, that you came again. Hot, gushing juices spill past your folds, velvet walls clamping on his cock as you muffled a shriek into the sheets under his head, waves of orgasm so acute that your whole body quivers, using all available strength to raise yourself up so you could kiss him, swiping your tongue over his bottom lip, savouring the groans and grunts, your hips grinding down, skin wet and sticky from sex.
You don’t even have a chance to process things when he sits you upright, lifting you from his cock so you could lay on your back, his hips forcing your legs wide. In your post-orgasmic state, you could feel how your pussy is still throbbing and Namjoon comes over, placing your legs over his shoulders, sheer strength contained in his solid muscles. Heavy weight over your own body, and you feel him enter you again, and you threw your head back on the mattress, eyes fluttering close.
"Ah, shit," he rasped, mouth falling open, dimples appearing, denting his cheeks, lower jaw jutting out. Bent in half, your muscles lock, toes curling at how he starts again, bringing out those tortured whimpers from you, fast and deep thrusts that made your moans melt into breathless gasps, body tightening all over, the skin of your back chafed from being rubbed up, up, up as his cock drove into in a punishing rhythm that it hurt so good.
“F-fuck, Joon! Joon!”
You see his features tighten, dark brows knitting together as his arm curled over your head to protect it from hitting the headboard, fingers grasping at your hair, slight tugs at your scalp enough to you make you gasp in his mouth as he ground his, the weight of him, the even pressure that created friction for your clit, your skin is feverish, your tits crushed against his firm chest.
“S-so fucking… good,” you praised, sated, somewhat delirious. Clinging onto his arms as he propped himself up, he held you with his gaze, a brief snarl of his lips, deep grunts of effort that sparked heat all over you. His hips drove down in rough thrusts that you come undone again, seizing under his grip, a strangled cry torn from your lips as you thrashed from under him, juices gushing out, wet and audible squelches that sent your reeling into a pleasure haze.
“Ah fuck!” He gasped, his hand coming down on your ass, once, twice, three times, the sting of the slap making you yelp, Oh shit, hgnh fuck, keep going. The skin tender and warm as his thrusts become frantic, his hands curling over you shoulders, one hand one the base of your neck, holding you still, his breaths desperate and soon, he settles inside you so deep that you are jostled up the bed, legs flinching and head lifting into his neck as he came, your whimpers against his scorched skin, his cum swelling the latex, cock throbbing as he let out a hoarse groan that shot straight to your core.
There’s nothing but your heartbeat hammering wildly, overtaking your ears, his weight is pleasant on top, and he kisses you softly, which escalated into messier pecks, licks, and teasing bites that had you laughing and moaning at the same time. When he parts and looks down at you, you’re both breathless and you smiled up at him, your hands on his arms, tensed and swollen.
“You’re fucking hot,” you said, your eyes brows raising suggestively. You note his sweat-slicked skin, blazing hot under your touch. He laughs, it’s shy, the same Namjoon that gets flustered when complimented in all cases, including the bedroom. He shrugs, trying to brush it off.
“Sweaty,” he said, panting, as if to correct you. Swiftly, you reach up, press your palms on the sides of his face, fingers smoothing his matted hair, finding that he was sweaty and hot.
“I don’t fucking care,” you laughed, pulling him down for a kiss.
“There’s only Jjapaguri left?”
You and Namjoon stared at the steaming pot of noodles over the cooktop that Taehyung was busily tending to. He shrugged, the loose top he was wearing billowing with his movements.
“I told them that we should have put seven packets,” he muttered, winding his arm around your waist to draw your closer to him.
You hear your stomach rumble in response and he laughed, kissing your hair. Jungkook comes over, clasping your chin briefly, throwing a smile your way before disappearing into the pantry. Jin saunters in, gaming console in hand, his eyes zeroing in on Namjoon, who stuck his head in the fridge.
“Namjoon-ah, I need a refund for my personal training session with you this morning,” he said, winking at you. Hoseok was singing into the mic, his voice entering the kitchen, the familiar tune of Kim Dong Ryul’s ‘Drunken Truth’ resounding in the air.
You're right, I may be drunk
This may be a mistake.
Namjoon emerges from the shelves, confused. Jin sighed, coming over, making himself bigger by standing on his tiptoes, looking the least threatening as ever. Taehyung reached for a small bowl with thinly cut meat, taking a portion of noodles and wounding them over chopsticks, placing a strip of beef over it, offering the bite to you. The first taste had you humming with approval, rocking on the balls of your feet at the first proper meal you had today. He kissed your cheek in response, taking his own helping, this time, way bigger than what he gave you, taking two strips of beef instead. Yoongi’s voice continues, a lower register that matched Hoseok’s, you could hear Jimin butting in, his voice significantly higher.
I love you so much
Even if my sloppy declaration
Seems corny or unbelievable,
It is not something I am just saying.
Taehyung, who had been diligently feeding you mouthfuls of Jjapaguri all this time helped you sit on the counter, wedging himself between your legs as you rested your arm over his shoulder. Jungkook comes out from the pantry, a can of spicy tuna in hand, a small bowl in the other, ready for rice. Behind, Jin and Namjoon were sorting out another gym schedule, preferably one where Namjoon would be present.
“Hyung, I’ll be there tomorrow to help, don’t worry,” Namjoon reassured, still on the hunt for food. Jin guards him, comically mirroring his steps from behind, like a point guard in a basketball game. You laugh through your nose as you chewed your food.
Taehyung sets down the chopsticks and kneads your waist to get your attention, he looks up at you, his elegant brown eyes warm underneath the light, the mole on his nose and lip more prominent, soft fringe of hair over his brow.
“I saved you some of the budae jjigae that Yoongi-hyung made earlier, let’s have an extra portion of that,” he said.
Relief floods your system at eating something other than Jjapaguri. With his help, you hop from the counter, making your way to the dining table, where Jungkook was eating a bowl of rice and spicy tuna with a thousand-mile stare. Avoiding Namjoon’s curious gaze, Taehyung joins you both with white bowls that had plastic wrapping over it, the utensils firmly tucked in his hands. He takes the plastic off and hands you a spoon. Jungkook’s brows knitted at the development, looking like he was having a hard time to swallow.
“So that was why you took so many portions, hyung.”
Taehyung lets out a shy laugh as you tucked your shoulder under his arm, a silent thank you for his act while you ate together, surrounded by the sounds of Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok confessing their drunken love for each other using karaoke.
You can't love me: cold bad boy yoongi x shy reader
Read my other one shots here
You can't love me:Min yoongi x reader one shot
summary: yoongi rejects you thinking he is not good for you
genre:fluff and teeny weeny angst. highschool au
Bad boy!yoongi x shy innocent!reader
you were running down the hallway of your school while avoiding every student, trying to find him. who was he? He is Min yoongi. your only friend who is also known as the cold bad boy of your school. For other students it was really weird that a shy and innocent girl like you talks with someone like him. you both are the complete opposites. you are sweet,shy and innocent while he is cold and someone who harshly pushes people away when they try to get too close to his liking. You are really intelligent and every teacher likes you while he is hated by them. One look at him and you wouldn't want to approach him. His right arm is full of tattoos and there are rumours that he sells drugs too. But you don't care about them. Afterall he is the first person who talked to you and saved you from getting bullied.
You have a shy and timid nature. And sometimes people tries to take advantage of your shyness. The popular girls of your school always forced you to do there projects and homework. And even who you listened to them every time,they still bullied you after school. You remember that day when you were walking home and gulped when you saw those girls standing at the alley which is on the way to your house. They were smoking while laughing loudly. You tried to get past them without them noticing but failed as one of them saw you and shouted "hey! where the fuck are you going you idiot?!" she grabbed yout collar and dragged you deeper in the alley. You whimpered in pain when she harshly pinned you on the wall and your head hit the wall. They just laughed more and one of them came forward inhaling the smoke and blew it on your face. You coughed loudly with tears brimming your eyes. You throat was already burning because they did this yesterday too. "p-please stop" you managed to say but she just grabbed your hair tightly and raised her hand to slap you when "leave her alone" they all looked back pissed to see who disturbed them only to pale immediately when they saw Min yoongi standing there. "Did you not heard me? i said fucking leave her alone" he growled and they all gulped immediately picking up there bags and running away. You slid down the wall while patting your chest while Yoongi looked at you with cold eyes. He sighed seeing you coughing violently and came towards you crouching down towards your level. You looked up at him with tears all over your face and for a moment you thought that his eyes softened. But it was gone as soon as it came. He gave you his bottle. He stood up and walked away while taking a cigarette out of his pocket.
The next day you hesitantly walked up to him while holding a small box in your hands. You saw him smoking while leaning against the wall at the nack of the school. He looked up and saw you timidly walking towards him and threw the cigarette on the ground. He raised his eyebrow and you looked at him while saying "i-i just wanted to t-thank you for helping me yesterday" he just nodded and went to walk away but stopped when he felt you gripping his sleeve. Lookin at you he raspily said "what" you just shoved him the box that you were carrying and mumbled "t-this is for you" and quickly ran away. Yoongi opened the pink box and smirked. Amused to see cookies of different shapes in it. He shoved one in his mouth not knowing you were looking at him with a shy smile on his face.
Since that day you started approaching him slowly. You would sit besides him on the ground at the back of of the school while eating your lunch and silently give him some too. Or you would talk and he would just listen silently. You have a crush on him. You liked him since the day your friendship began. But you were always too shy and scared to confess thinking it might ruin your friend ship. But today you decided to confess even though 90 percent of your brain knows that you might get rejected. But that 10 percent of your heart still hopes that he might feel the same. You smiled when you saw him standing at his usual place and called him"yoongi!" He looked up hearing your voice and smiled slightly seeing you waving at him with a bright smile on your face. He threw the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it when you walked towards him "you were smoking again?" you asked with a pout and he chuckled raspily saying"you told me i can smoke once in a week" you scrunched your face at the slight smell of cigarette and said "here!" giving him his lunch . He frowned and said "i told you not to make one specially for me" You just waved your hand and said "it's okay! now eat!" you both sat down and started eating with nervousness growing inside you.
After eating,you put your lunch box aside and called him nervously "y-yoongi" he hummed fiddling with the necklace you gave him. "i-i want to tell you something" "what is it?" his voice colder than usual as he already quite knew where this was going. You took a deep breath and gathered every ounce of courage. "I-i like you" oh god you really said it. But what tensed you more was the silence that came after that. "I don't" he immediately cursed himself as it came ruder than intended. While your eyes widened and tears filled in them but you blinked them back not wanting to look like an idiot infront of him. But he already saw you blinking back your tears as he clenched his hand. "oh okay"you whispered and froced a smile. Thankfully the bell ranged and you quickly stood up taking the lunch boxes "i-i will go now" you smiled at him which he knew was a forced smile and watched you run away. He cursed under his breath and pushed his hair back. That day you secretly cried in the bathroom stall because your first crush didn't liked you back and you ruined your only friendship too.
Since that day you started avoiding him because you know you will break down if you looked at him. You would put his lunch on his desk and eat alone on the roof top. You both were back to your old self. You were bright and bubbly with yoongi but not anymore. And became the same cold boy who never talked to anyone.You didn't knew but that day when he went home,he threw a vase at the mirror cursing loudly "FUCKING HELL" he saw that mirror shatter in pieces just like how his heart shattered when he heard you crying secretly. You again became a scared and timid girl infront of every one. You both didn't talked for three weeks. Yoongi couldn't take it. He couldn't see your red eyes. He couldn't see you avoiding him. He missed your bright smiles. He missed you. But he knew that he didn't deserve you.
You were infront of your locker, taking your books out when you suddenly felt a presence behind you "I can't fucking do it anymore"you heard them mumble before they grabbed your wrist. your eyes widened seeing you yoongi dragging you somewhere ignoring your questions. He took you to an old storage room where no-one was allowed. He locked the door and turned around breathing heavily "y-yoongi why-" your words got stuck in your throat when he suddenly came forward and pinned you on the wall while holding both of your wrists besides either side of your head. "why do you like me" "huh?" you said in confusion looking up at him while his jaw clenched "you said you like me right? why? why the fuck do you like me when my own parents kicked me out of the house calling me a mistake. why do you like me when everyone here hates me. you know that i sell drugs right? you know that i beat up people too then why the fuck do like me?!" he growled at end of the sentence while your eyes softened. he thinks that you are as pure as an angel while he is stained. he thinks that he will stain you too that's why he kept on pushing you. you hesitantly cupped his face in your small hands and whispered softly "yoongi you deserve everything in this world. it isn't your fault that your parents kicked you out. it was there fault. you don't do those things because you want too. it's because you need to. they all hates you because they don't know you. A-and you wouldn't have saved me back then if you were a back person" "Fuck" he cursed under his breath while his tattooed arm snaked around your waist pulling you closer making you bump in his hard chest. You looked up at him wide eyed but before you could say anything,he smashed his lips on yours making you gasp. His grip around your waist tighten and he pulled you closer leaving no space between your bodies. Your eyes closed automatically and you kissed him back softly while caressing his cheek. He grunted and pushed you against the wall gently and pushed his tongue inside your mouth. He kissed you till you were out of breath "y-yoongi" you said but he just growled and kissed you harder, swiping you off your feet. You legs were dangling in the air while you carded you fingers through his hair to calm him down,still kissing. "y-yoon c-cant breath" you managed to say and he kissed you for a second more and then pulled back breathing heavily. Slowly placing you on the ground,he leaned in and put his forehead against yours. "do you still like me?" he asked making you nod shyly and he said "i like you too....so fucking much" you immediately broke into a shy smile and said "yoon" he hummed snuggling his face in your neck "please don't think like that again" his eyes softened and he kissed your forehead making you blush and he mumbled "i won't" you giggled when he tickled your waist and he was about to kiss you again but then "hey! why the hell are you two doing here?! you flinced while he looked back annoyed to see the maths teacher standing there "so fucking annoying"he muttered and held your waist pulling you with him. you bowed to the teacher and quickly hide your face in yoongi's chest when he glared at you. yoongi glared back at him and walked out of the room holding you close to him. That day yoongi took you to his house. Glaring at the men who were staring at you. Those were the same men who purchase drugs from him. There stares confused and lingering making his jaw clench.
Safe to say that yoongi didn't let you get off of his lap, kissing and cuddling you continuesly. The next day you went to school with purple marks blossoming your neck with yoongi's arm wrapped around your waist protectively letting everyone know that you belong to him.
"Mine" he growled possesively against your lips kissing you at the back of the school which became your secret place.
“Yoongi was a warrior in the Queen’s army, brave and loyal to his duties even if that meant protecting Her daughter, who can’t stand his presence in the slightest and who more often than not uses him as her way of taking out her anger. As one fateful night forces them to survive together, they soon need to learn how to live with each other.”
Pairing: Warrior!Yoongi x Princess!Reader
Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut
Warnings: LOTS of plot & worldbuilding, violence & fighting, wounds, deep hatred in the beginning, she is mean in the beginning but character development happens dw, slurs, cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, loss of virginity, they are both virgins fyi, kissing, missionary in a cave, Yoongi likes kissing her boobies and neck, Yoongi’s hands, also blonde Daechwita!Yoongi because that deserves his own warning
a/n: I always start one of those stories, thinking that I can’t love it more than the other ones, and I always end up proving myself wrong. Writing this story gave me so much JOY omfg please I would literally give my life for warrior!Yoongi. Also I know, I know :( it is once again so freaking long, but please :( give it a chance, I promise you that you will get lots of plot and Yoongi for your patience :(
~ Go to Index ~
Yoongi heard the whispers and felt the eyes on him. They all knew where he was going and what was going to happen.
The princess had a fight with her husband.
The news spread like a wildfire this morning, reaching Yoongi by the evening. He had just returned from the Queen’s hunt when one of her servants told him to see her in her chambers immediately.
She was furious so they said before wishing him strength.
Yoongi felt nothing as he made his way to the princess’ chambers. He walked this walk a hundred times before. What was to come doesn’t faze him anymore. It was the whispers and stares, which never became easier to bear, no matter how often he climbed the stairs to her chambers.
Yoongi knocks twice. He doesn’t expect an answer and so he enters.
“You sent for me Your Highness”, he announces himself, falling to his knees in an instance. He places his sword before his knees, keeping his head lowered.
“Where were you?” she spits.
“I was out hunting with your mother.”
Yoongi stays quiet despite the ache on his cheek.
“You kept me waiting, how dare you?”
“Your Highness, the Queen, she needed my company.”
“Who do you think you are? How dare you talk back to me.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness.”
She grabs a bundle of his hair and tugs his head back.
Yoongi doesn’t react at the feeling. He tries not to look into her eyes, but fails. She looks furious tonight. The fight with her husband must have angered her deeply.
Yoongi doesn’t like her husband. Not only was he a simple fool, but he angered her on top of that. And when she was angry she sent for Yoongi to bear the punishments her husband should bear in his stead.
“Look at you, you’re so ugly”, she spits, twisting his hair, “do people tell you that? Do they tell you that you’re ugly?” she asks, running her finger down the scar on his face.
Yoongi closes his eyes, shuddering in disgust as her finger runs over his eyelid.
“Yes Your Highness, they do.”
“Good”, she places her hand all over his face and pushes his head back roughly, “and I hope they never stop.”
Yoongi never got the answers of why she was hurting him instead of her useless husband.
Some servants say it was because of the prince’s powerful mother and that the Queen therefore forbade her daughter to hurt her husband.
Others say it was because the husband was an emotional fool, who cries the moment the princess raises her voice at him and that the princess grew annoyed by the constant wailing.
Yoongi believes that it was simply because he was at the wrong place and the wrong time.
It was two winters ago when the princess married the prince of the Sand Queendom. She disliked him from the beginning for the way he looked and behaved. He angered her one night and in a fit of rage she struck him. Yoongi made the mistake of helping him to his feet again and it was Yoongi, who received the next strike. Ever since that day she always calls for Yoongi when her husband angered her and he has to bear the kind of punishment a husband should take by himself.
“You know, I told him to stay home and yet he still wandered the mountains with his friends”, she spits as she connects her hand with his face, “why is he always defying me?”
“I don’t –“
“Shut up, I’m not talking to you!”
Yoongi closes his mouth and accepts the next slap.
“He cried again today, he is such a pathetic man. Why did mother choose such a terrible husband for me?”
Yoongi allows her to shake his head roughly.
“Stop looking like that. Why are you so ugly?”
“Please forgive me, Your Highness. I’m tired.”
“Fuck”, she grasps his cheeks tightly, “you’re even uglier when you’re tired.”
She leans down and smells him.
“Disgusting, you stink.”
“Forgive me, I was on horseback the entire day.”
She pushes him, making him fall on his elbows.
“Leave, your scent insults me, it’s no fun tonight.”
“Yes Your Highness, please forgive me”, Yoongi says, grabbing his sword to leave her room on his knees.
The Queen was on a hunt again. Yoongi rides beside her, scouting the area for dangers. The princess joined their hunting group today. She left her husband at home, but took her horrible friends with her. They were giggling the entire time. Yoongi felt his head ache at the sound of it.
“I heard that some of Morrok’s people were sighted in the north forests three moons ago”, the Queen tells Yoongi.
“Yes my Queen, my people took care of them”, Yoongi answers her.
“I never doubted that Sire, but it makes me wonder what they were doing so far up north.”
“Perhaps they were on their way further north, I heard of a man creating an army of men, who share his mindset. They call themselves the Ravens.”
“Yes, I heard that as well. It seems that these days more and more men become victims of madmen.”
“Yes my Queen, so it seems”, Yoongi agrees.
“Mother!” the princess rides up to her mother’s side, “mother we are bored, when can we kill something?”
“Patience and if you keep chattering like that you won’t catch anything today.”
“But mother, Luthia saw a deer back there. Please allow us to check it out.”
“Very well, but take Yoongi with you.”
The princess looks at him and scrunches her nose up in disgust. Yoongi feels the same. He doesn’t want to spend time with the princess.
“Do I really have to?”
“Yes ___ you do.”
She clicks her tongue, “fine. Come Yoongi.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys and turns his horse.
The princess gallops off afterwards.
“Sire”, the Queen stops him.
“Yes my Queen?”
“Please keep her out of trouble.”
“Yes my Queen, I will”, he promises before galloping down the forest path.
He catches up with the princess and her friends soon enough. They were giggling again, but that stopped when they noticed Yoongi’s presence. He can feel every single one of their deathly glares on his face as he rides to the front to join the princess’ side.
“___ what is that fool doing here?” Luthia asks, eyeing Yoongi with disgust.
“My mother insists I take him”, you answer her and roll your eyes, “she still doesn’t believe that I can fend for myself.”
It makes Yoongi scoff quietly, just quietly enough that you wouldn’t hear it.
“And she has to send him out of all your warriors?”
You look at Yoongi by your side, studying his face. He is frowning, scouting the area as he was told to do.
“I’m not happy about it either, but let’s pretend that he isn’t here. Tell us Luthia where did you see the deer?”
“I watched it run down this path.”
“That leads to the ruins of Bruinnen”, Yoongi murmurs.
“So? Do you want to tell us something?” Luthia spits.
“There are spirits in those lands, angry spirits.”
Luthia laughs and soon the rest of her friends, including you laugh as well.
“Those are legends, you simple fool, there are no spirits in the world”, Luthia says, riding up to Yoongi just to slap the back of his head.
Yoongi reacts, turning his head to glare at her.
“People disappear in those lands and you want to enter them like a reckless child?” he spits.
“Now I understand your anger with him ___ he is way too noisy.”
Yoongi scoffs, turning to you.
“Your Highness believe me, you don’t want to enter the spirits’ lands.”
You laugh, “keep your mouth shut Yoongi. We are going.”
Yoongi twists the reins in anger. The princess is such a reckless child, one day she will get herself killed and maybe, just maybe, he will watch it happen.
The path is welcoming for now. High trees with barks of silver and red crowns of leaves. The sunlight enters the forest through little holes in the canopy, painting the paths and the surrounding scrubs ruby. The air smells fresh as well, warming your limbs.
“Tell me ___ isn’t he the fool, who helped your husband after you disciplined him?” another friend of the princess asks.
“Yes he is. He is the fool who thought it was his right to step in between”, you answer her with distaste.
The friend studies Yoongi’s face.
“He is just as ugly as you told me. Hey ugly”, she stubs his arm with the dull end of her arrow, “where did you get that scar from?”
Yoongi stays silent. In moments like these he wishes that he could live a different life. He enjoys being the Queen’s warrior as she was a kind woman, but truly when he has to be alone with the princess and her horrible friends he wishes that he could live a different life.
“He probably got it from helping another woman’s husband”, Luthia jokes, making them cackle.
“Or maybe he got it from fighting spirits”, the friend jokes.
Laughter bounces off the high trees, taunting Yoongi.
“No, but please be honest where did you get it from, ugly?” Luthia asks.
He knows that she doesn’t want to hear the truth. She wasn’t interested in him, she just wanted to poke fun at him.
“I can’t remember”, Yoongi murmurs.
“Ha! He says he can’t remember. Did you hear that? He probably hit himself with his own sword.”
Their laughter rings in his ears and forces a shaky exhale over his lips. He truly wishes to live a different life in such moments.
The laughter stops.
“Look Luthia the deer”, you exclaim, pointing at the poor animal in the far distance.
“This is mine”, Luthia whispers and draws her bow.
She hits the deer on its shoulder, making it run away.
“Stay! You are not allowed to run away from me!” Luthia screams, kicking her horse roughly and galloping off.
“Luthia! Slow down!”
You turn to Yoongi.
“Go after her and protect her.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys as always, galloping down the forest path.
He meets the horrible woman at the end of the path.
Yoongi shivers, slowing down his horse. They have reached the border to the spirits’ lands. The once ivory path is corrupted by the black soil creeping out of the dark forest. The air was tense and the light sparse. The smell of death lingered on every inch of ground and the once proud trees were wilted and black, sparse of leaves and life.
Yoongi reaches the horrible girl. She looks at him and his fingers around the handle of his sword.
“What’s that? The forest looks so ugly here” she asks him in disgust.
“The border to the spirits’ land”, Yoongi answers her.
She looks at him.
“I didn’t ask for jokes right now, crip”, she spits.
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger.
“I don’t make jokes, girl. Now let’s turn around and join the others.”
“No. The deer ran inside, I want my arrow back.”
“The arrow is gone, let’s leave.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I don’t work for you”, Yoongi growls and turns his horse, “let’s leave.”
He can watch the princess and the rest of her horrible friends ride down the windy path and he is in no mood to fight for five more people if the spirits decide to show themselves.
“I am still higher in rank than you. Now you will show me some respect.”
Yoongi felt the cold blade of her arrow’s head rest itself on his shoulder. He clenches his jaw. The princess watched it happening, telling her horse to go faster in reaction.
“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out under his breath.
“Luthia, why are you holding an arrow against my warrior’s neck?”
“My arrow is inside this forest and this fool refuses to help me.”
Yoongi knows that she was lying, but doesn’t say anything. His chest fills with anger when the princess’ cold eyes land on his face.
“You are going to do as you are told and retreat Luthia’s arrow.”
“She can go herself, I’m not risking my life for an arrow.”
Shocked gasps cut through the air. The princess lowers her eyes in anger. Yoongi can watch how she raises her riding crop, closing his eyes in anticipation. The hit is harder than he had initially thought it would be, leaving a dark red imprint on his cheek.
“This was a warning, if you disobey me again I will strike you with my sword.”
Yoongi clenches his jaw, staying on his horse.
“Go!” she yells at him, raising her riding crop a second time.
Yoongi catches it, almost breaking it between his fingers as anger makes his grasp iron.
He pushes it away, jumping off his horse afterwards.
“There we go, ugly”, Luthia spits.
Yoongi takes two steps and then he falters, staring into the darkness of the spirits’ lands. He knows the legends. Knows the stories of people losing their minds in those woods. Knows the stories of people getting lost on the windy paths. Knows the stories of the people dying in those forests, damned to a fate of being forgotten. Yoongi doesn’t frighten easily, but at this moment he is so scared that he can feel his knees begin to shake.
“Go on you’ve come so far already”, the princess encourages him with a dark smirk.
Then a sharp pain in his shoulder. One of her friends poked him with the tip of her sword.
“Don’t make us wait.”
He sends her a deathly glare over his shoulder, draws his sword and sets foot into the forest. His foot had to simply touch the soil and he felt his bones fill with iciness. The air made it hard to breathe and even his heart seemed to struggle with pumping his blood through his veins.
The laughter of the horrible girls rings in his ear like distorted whispers of death.
Yoongi tightens the grip around his sword, having to swallow deeply to get air into his lungs again.
“I-if there a-are spirits w-with me, k-kill the g-girls in m-my stead”, he stutters, “they would deserve it”, he adds under his breath.
“Hey ugly! Found it?”
“Or are you busy fighting spirits?”
Laughter, shrill and loud. The magic in those forests corrupts it.
Sweat, he could feel it run down his forehead. Air. If his lungs don’t work soon he will faint.
Laughter. Laughter. Laughter.
“Ugly where are you?”
“Don’t run away!”
Air. Air. Air.
“Fuck”, Yoongi stops, seeking support against one of the trees.
It burns. His hand burns.
He pulls back quickly, staring at the black goo on his fingers. It was smoking.
“What is that?” he exclaims, wiping it off quickly “get off of me.”
He raises his fingers, they are shaking uncontrollably. Blisters. They weren’t here before. The tree burned him.
Air. Air. Air.
Yoongi grunts, blinking quickly. His vision is blurry. Where is the path? Where is he?
Intruder. We have an intruder.
Whispers, hundreds of them.
Intruder. Who’s that? Intruder. Death to him. Death. Death. Death.
Hands, black fog, they are closing around his limbs and neck. They fight him, trying to drag him to his knees.
"Stay away", he chokes out, cutting through the air around himself.
He fights! He fights back! Death to him! Death to every human!
“Ah!” Yoongi yells.
An arrow had hit the tree right beside his head.
The princess has her bow raised, wearing an amused smirk.
“Look you made the little cub frighten”, Luthia squeals and giggles.
Yoongi looks at the arrow. White body, red feathers. It is one of the princess’ arrows.
“Come back Yoongi and don’t forget to take my arrow with you!” she calls out and cackles.
Yoongi feels his blood boil. He rips the arrow out of the tree and runs back to the others.
Come back! Don’t run! No! No! No! Death to all humans!
The fog follows him.
Laughter. They are still laughing at him despite the danger.
Don’t run little tiger! Don’t run!
One more step. Yoongi jumps, feet landing on the ivory path. His knees give up on him in an instance, his body sinks in on itself.
“Stand up ugly.”
Yoongi feels the icy gust of wind on his skin. Whispers are in the air. The horses become restless. The laughter finally dies down.
“What was that?” Luthia asks, drawing her sword, “hey ugly what did you do?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer her for catching his breath is all he can think of. His lungs burn as if the fogs had poisoned them. Oh he is so scared that tears have formed in his eyes. He can’t cry, not right now, not in front of them. He can’t cry.
“Yoongi! Stand up you useless man!” the princess spits.
Yoongi lifts his head.
“We want to leave, it is so icy here.”
He grunts. His sword comes in handy for he couldn’t possibly stand up without its help.
“Give me my arrow.”
Yoongi lifts it to the princess' fingers. His hands are shaking, aching from the burns on his palms.
“Ew what is that black goo? No, throw it away. I don’t want it anymore.”
Anger fills his stomach. Yoongi breaks the arrow and throws it on the ground. She scoffs and laughs.
“Now get on your horse or we’ll just leave you here.”
They ride back to the Queen, laughing about how they scared Yoongi and how amusing he looked when he startled. Truly in such moments Yoongi wishes to live a different life.
The bells were ringing. Yoongi never heard those bells before. He was not supposed to hear them. Nobody was. They were supposed to stay silent until time had taken everyone and nature reclaimed the castle.
And yet they did, shaking the entire castle awake.
“Breach! We have been breached!”
Yoongi is on his feet in an instance, grasping his sword and running out of his bedroom. He had no time to do his hair or put real clothes on. The castle was under attack, his duties were more important.
Screams echo through the hallways. Some originated in anger, some in pain, some were distorted in fear. Yoongi made no difference between them. The castle was never supposed to be filled with screams. People ran, barely even noticing when they bumped into him. Yoongi looked into their eyes and saw fear. He understood them. Most of them never learned how to fight for fighting seemed unnecessary in the safety of the castle.
“Keep running! Take the tunnels leading to the mountains!” he tells them.
“Master! Young master!” one of the Queen’s servants, his hands were covered in blood.
He stumbles, clasping Yoongi’s arms tightly.
“The Queen. She is in danger.”
“Where is she?”
“The ballroom, she locked herself up with some of her servants. They, they are trying to break through.”
“Keep running, don’t stop until you are in the tunnels”, Yoongi tells the young servant before he runs faster.
They are all running away. While he is chasing the danger.
The air smells of blood and burning flesh. The fight must be near. He can hear the shrill screeching of metal. Just round the corner. His soldiers are fighting bravely. Just like he thought, those are Morrok’s men.
“Fuck”, he presses out, leaving his soldiers. They will manage. He needs to make sure the Queen is safe.
Yoongi fights his way through the crowd. His hands were warm from the blood of other people covering them. He slices through all of them, leaving a trail of bodies behind.
Just down the hallway. Yoongi stops. Fire was illuminating the path. Shadows hid behind them, turning at the sound of Yoongi dragging his sword over the ground.
He tilts his head to the side, giving the intruders a menacing smile.
“What? Are we going to stand here all night?” he taunts.
They scream, storming up to him. Fools.
Yoongi changes his stance, lowering his eyes like a tiger watching its prey. He welcomes them all, punishing their foolery with precise cuts through their bodies.
They fall. Every single one of them falls under his punishing claws, they are just another addition to his endless path of corpses.
He listens. Silence. Thumping in the distance just past the fires.
“Fucking hell”, he presses out before running down the fiery hallway, “never like this element, way too hot for my taste”, he murmurs, shielding his mouth and nose with the help of his hand.
Thump. Thump . Thump.
It is rhythmic.
Just up those stairs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi slays five more people.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi can see the ballroom. Five men are trying to break through. Yoongi quickens his steps.
Then a punishing crack and the tall door falls apart.
He runs and runs. The screams are unbearable in his ears.
Yoongi reaches the ballroom just in time to watch one of the men pierce the Queen’s intestines with a spear.
“No!” he roars.
“Kill him! It’s just one, kill him!” Morrok’s men scream, pointing their weapons at Yoongi.
He slays every single one of them, granting them deaths so painful even the fairies of death weeps for their souls. He spared one of them. The one carrying the spear. He spared him after cutting off both his legs.
“Somebody help!” the man screams, fleeing from Yoongi.
He follows him over the floor, dragging his long sword behind himself and through the path of blood the man leaves behind.
“You are going to pay for what you did”, Yoongi growls angrily and blinded by rage he raises his sword to rip him apart like a tiger would its prey.
It is done. Yoongi stands in the man’s blood, hands shaking by his side for he was filled with rage.
“My Queen”, he is by her side in an instance, kneeling by her head, “my Queen don’t move.”
“Yoongi it was him, he let them inside.”
“Who did my Queen? Who?”
The Queen’s eyes flutter. She reaches for Yoongi’s hand. He grasps it tightly, soiling it with his dripping tears.
Yoongi shakes her hand then her body then he touches her neck. No pulse.
“No, my Queen”, he presses out and whimpers, “my Queen forgive me, please forgive me.”
He closes her eyes with shaking fingers, forcing his tears down.
“I will protect her, I promise you”, he whispers, cupping her cheek, “farewell my Queen.”
He stands up with struggle for his knees wanted to give up in grief. He lost her, the woman who loved him as if he was her own flesh and blood. The woman, whose arms were wide open for him when he thought that the world didn't want him anymore. The woman, who gave him a chance at a new life and who taught him how to fight. And the woman he swore to protect with his life. He was supposed to die, not her. She was never supposed to die.
Yoongi sobs, fighting his way to the princess’ chambers. He didn’t know if his face felt warm from his tears or the blood of his enemies. Perhaps it was both, running down his cheeks and soiling his nightdress.
It was just over the courtyard. Yoongi felt his heart shatter with every corpse he passed. Those were his soldiers and his friends lying next to the enemy. All dead. It seemed as if he was the only one left alive.
He increases his steps. Was he already too late? Will the princess be dead already?
“Young tiger! Finally I looked for you everywhere! My wife, they took her”, the princess’ husband screams, running up to Yoongi with a dagger in his hand.
Yoongi felt blinding rage surge through his body. He let them inside. Safe her from her husband. The Queen’s words are ringing in his ears.
“You need to come with me please, I only have this measly dagger and I-I never learned how to fight”, he calls out.
Yoongi begins running. The husband smiles.
“Exactly, follow me”, he says excitedly, “it is just down by – “ his voice cuts off in a gurgle of pain.
Yoongi grunts and feels his sword pierce through the back of the traitor. He steps closer, forcing the blade through his stomach until his hand is touching the burning skin.
The husband gawks at him, asking him for reasons with just a look.
“This is for killing the Queen, you traitorous bastard”, Yoongi spits, twisting the sword and making the husband cry out his death screech.
Yoongi steps back, watching the pitiful corpse drop to the ground. He grunts, blinks his tears away and runs again.
He finds the princess on his journey to her chambers. They are dragging her away. She is screeching, fighting against their grasps.
“My princess!” Yoongi runs.
He is not going to break the promise he made to the Queen.
“Yoongi?” she whips around, “help me, you useless man!”
Yoongi falters in his steps.
But then. There are six of them and he feels his arm begin to tire out.
“Help me! Please help me!”
Yoongi tilts his head to the side and watches her with lifeless eyes.
She never treated him well. Perhaps he could just turn around.
“Shut up you whore”, one of the abductors yells and slaps her cheek.
“No”, she screeches.
Yoongi watches as one of the men forces a piece of cloth into her mouth. It makes her cry miserably. His blood boils in anger.
They are going to hurt her. They are going to hurt her in ways he wishes not even on his deepest enemies.
Yoongi tightens his grip around his sword and runs.
He is not going to let them hurt her. He swore to protect her. The evil spirits in his head tested him and he passed. He is not going to run away, he is going to fight.
Yoongi fights bravely, slaughtering four of them.
“Get him Kentov.”
The tall man raises his hammer. It shatters Yoongi’s sword in an instance, forcing him to stumble back.
“How?” he manages to get out and then fingers wrap themselves around his throat so tightly he sees darkness within seconds.
Yoongi opens his eyes and gasps. He sits up, grasping for his throat.
“You’re awake, finally.”
He looks to his side then down at his wrists. They are tied up. Just as his ankles are. He looks back at you.
“My princess”, he croaks.
“Yes you failed, we got captured”, you spit.
Yoongi looks around. You and him were on a carriage, locked in a cage.
“What happened?” he asks.
You scoff and look away, “you passed out after failing to protect me, now we are locked in this cage on our way to heavens knows where.”
Yoongi shifts into a more comfortable sitting position, letting his head fall against the wooden stakes. He grunts, scrunching his nose up. His shoulder aches unbearably.
“I watched you hesitate.”
He turns, just his head. There is anger on your features.
“You hesitated to save me.”
“Once we are back home I will tell mother of your disobedience.”
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“Your mother is dead, Your Highness.”
“Killed because your husband betrayed you. There is no home to go back to.”
Yoongi watches your eyes fill with tears and he falters. He never saw you cry before.
“No, don’t say that. You’re lying!”
“I fear that I am not.”
“No”, you choke out and weep miserably.
Yoongi turns away again and closes his eyes. He won’t comfort you, instead he allows his own tears to run down his cheeks, keeping silent.
They feed you rotten bread that night. You don’t eat anything, neither does Yoongi.
They keep you close to the group by the horses.
“This is your fault”, you spit.
“My fault?” Yoongi growls.
“If you fought harder we wouldn’t be in this position right now. Hungry and freezing.”
“Ha”, Yoongi scoffs, grinding his teeth.
“You are just as useless as my husband. May the Morguls rip his soul apart.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue.
“Where is my husband? Shouldn’t he be with those traitors?”
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger, “I killed him.”
“I cut open his stomach until I could watch life die out in his eyes.”
“How dare you? Do you want to be killed?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes. You reach out and strike his face.
“Why are you hitting me?” he asks coldly, “I protected you.”
“You didn’t do shit. You hesitated, I saw you stop. You wanted them to take me”, you hit him a second time.
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“If only my hands weren’t tied. I would choke the life out of you. This is all your fault, all of it.”
“My fault? I fought hard!”
“And yet my mother is dead. All of my friends are dead. Our people are dead. You failed to protect them. This all happened because of you!”
“With all due respect Your Highness, your words mean nothing to me and yes, perhaps I truly stopped for I remembered all the times you watched me suffer with amusement in your eyes”, Yoongi spits.
He watches your eyes fill with tears. Perhaps they were tears of sadness, perhaps they were tears of anger.
“Out of all the people and I am captured with you. Fuck, I should have just killed myself in my chambers.”
Yoongi scoffs and looks away.
“Perhaps you should have”, he murmurs.
You had walked for seven days until finally taking a break. It was hard, your feet ached so terribly and your limbs felt as heavy as stone. The land changed. The forest became darker and the air tenser. They tied you to one of the crippled trees. It was wet around you, cold and the stench of rotting flesh was lingering in the soil.
“Where do you think they are taking us?” you ask Yoongi, barely keeping your eyes open.
“To Morrok”, he answers you dryly.
“Morrok? But I thought he lived south.”
“They are moving camp so it seems.”
“Talks of a strong leader in the north. They call him Rafkan.”
“Rafkan”, you repeat the name, “I heard whispers of that name.”
“Yes, Your Highness. He is one of the Nïuri. It is said that the Black Forest of the Night Queendom was once a forest of golden oak trees until Rafkan claimed it for himself six hundred years ago. His hatred poisoned the forest until it was the mirror of his dark heart.”
“But the Nïuri are peaceful people, they use their immortality to build forests, to nourish nature and to, to protect the history of this world. Why would one of them be filled with so much evil that his heart is able to poison an entire forest?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes, “Spite, anger, perhaps he grew bored of being used as a woman’s punching bag.”
The silence, which follows is heavy on your heart. You lower your eyes.
“And you believe that Morrok wants to join Rafkan?” you ask quietly.
“Yes, I believe he does”, Yoongi answers you dryly, resting his head back against the tree he was currently leaning against.
You look at your captors. They are laughing and singing by a fire, feasting on the deer they had killed this morning. They looked like friends having fun. How can they be filled with such hatred? They killed everyone. Your friends, your mother, your siblings. They left you alone, murdered innocent people and now they are celebrating as if they were nothing but innocent friends.
“I hate them so much”, you press out.
“Me too”, he answers you dryly, fighting sleep.
They look at you then, talking quietly. You shiver under their glares. It felt as if you were prey watched by an unbeatable enemy.
“They are looking at us”, you whisper.
Yoongi tenses up and opens his eyes.
One of the men stands up.
Yoongi sits up straight, turning to you.
“Put this on Your Highness”, he stresses.
“What? No! No, don't put dirt on my face”, you gasp, looking between Yoongi and his dirt covered fingers.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, truly”, he says.
“No, stay away, oh god the smell”, you say and gag, “no, where are you putting your hand? Stay away.”
“This is going to save you”, he says shakily, covering the insides of your thighs with the rotting soil as well.
“I will have your hands cut off”, you spit, wiggling away but to no avail.
“Hello hello”, the man announces himself.
Yoongi sits back, knee bouncing up and down nervously and eyes glued to the man’s face. He was pinning you down with his dark eyes, licking over his chapped lips hungrily.
“You know five months without a woman’s touch can make a man’s cock hurt unbearably”, the man begins, reaching down to twist your hair.
“I wonder how the cunt of a princess feels like. Is it tighter than that of a common witch?”
You squeak, heart beginning to race. You can see it. See it swell in his pants. Now you understand.
“Please don’t”, you beg.
The man smiles, “oh it’s always better when they are fighting me. Get up.”
He tugs on your hair, trying to get you to stand up.
“No p-please don’t do this.”
He chuckles, tilting your head up. Suddenly he stops, scrunching his nose up as he sniffles loudly.
“What is that smell?” he murmurs.
He twists your hair, leans closer and smells you.
“Urgh disgusting”, he exclaims, shooting away. His hand lands across your face harshly, “you dirty whore”, he growls, spitting on your face.
He turns, hurrying back to the others with curses leaving his throat.
“Oh god”, you choke out, reaching for your face. You feel for it, touch it despite the rotting soil on your skin, “you.”
You turn to Yoongi. He is looking at you, holding his breath.
“You saved me”, you whisper.
He lowers his eyes.
Yoongi stays quiet, ripping off a piece of his dress. He gets on his knees, turning to you.
“Please let me clean you, Your Highness.”
You nod your head, shivering when his fingers come to rest on the nape of your neck. He touches your cheek tentatively and begins cleaning you as best as possible.
“How did you know that this would work?”
Yoongi looks into your eyes for only a moment, faltering in an instance for looking at you was always paired with consequences.
“It’s what me and my sister used to do when the bad men came to our village”, he confesses quietly.
“Our mother taught us how to protect ourselves against people wanting to use our bodies. She always told us to be disgusting, to shit or pee or vomit all over ourselves because the people wanting us harm don’t like dirty people.”
He cleans the last piece off, discarding the fabric somewhere on the ground. He lowers his eyes.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, for touching your thighs in such manners and for covering you in dirt. I shall take my punishment accordingly.”
You touch his chin, making him tense up. You tilt his head up, making him look into your eyes.
“Thank you”, you whisper and smile.
Yoongi is puzzled, furrowing his brows and blinking rapidly.
Yoongi had been missing for too long. They took him, dragging him away from you until you couldn’t see them anymore. It has been too long. The shadows have wandered too much. They shouldn’t be gone for so long. He should be back by now.
He helped you again earlier that night. They tried to come for you again so Yoongi helped you, he tried to cover your face in some animal’s feces. He got caught and got dragged away in your stead.
Two men stayed with you. They watched you the entire time, talking with each other about what they would do to you if only the boss would allow them. It made you press yourself against your cage in fear. You had never heard men talk in such ways before, you didn’t even know that they were capable of such thoughts in the first place. Until now you had only really heard a few of your fellow women talk in such manners and yet it seems that men were just as cruel in their thoughts.
They brought Yoongi to you once the sun began to set. He clearly struggled with his steps, stumbling every so often. One of the men had an iron grip around his long hair, keeping him from escaping.
“You’re back?” one of your two guards says.
“He didn’t scream, tzt, he is no fun”, the man whose hand is in Yoongi’s hair says, “walk.”
He pushes Yoongi, making him stumble to the cage. He unlocks it and throws Yoongi inside.
Yoongi collides with the ground in a painful groan, rolling on his back and keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily.
“Sleep well fucker”, the man spits, locking the cage.
He walks off with the two other men, whistling a cheerful melody.
Now you are truly alone with Yoongi.
Yoongi groans and sits up slowly.
“Fuck”, he presses out.
His eyes meet yours. He clenches his jaw.
“Did they hurt you?” you ask him.
“Tzt”, he looks away.
“Where did they hurt you?”
“Just leave me alone”, he spits, crawling into one corner of the cage to lie down again.
“I can help.”
“Keep it, your hands do more harm than good.”
That hits deep. You lower your eyes in shame.
“At least let me look at it.”
“You swore to protect me, didn’t you? I can’t have you die on me.”
Yoongi stays silent.
“Yoongi this is an order.”
He turns his back to you.
You gasp. They ripped his clothes open at the back.
“Are those burn marks?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer you.
“They burned you, didn’t they?”
He sighs an annoyance.
“I can help you”, you say, crawling to him as best as your tied limbs allow you to. You place your hands on his shoulder.
He flinches away.
“Don’t touch me”, he growls.
“Where else did they burn you?”
He turns around. Anger is distorting his face
“I said to leave me alone!” he spits.
“What good can cruel hands like yours do? You inflicted more pain on me than any other person and now you want to use them for good?” he lets his dark eyes run over your face, “I should have allowed them to drag you away.”
“Don’t say that”, you gasp, feeling your heart shatter in your chest, “please let me help”, you beg, cupping his ruined face.
He flinches away.
“This all happened because of you”, he growls angrily, “if you had been nicer to your husband he wouldn’t have felt the need to betray us.”
You close your mouth, falling against the cage with a painful laugh.
He clicks his tongue and scoffs, turning his back to you again.
“Is that what you think of me?” you whisper, waiting for an answer that will never come.
You have been walking the entire day. The sun is sweltering, punishing even. Your throat is so dry that the taste of blood has been lingering on your tongue for way too long. You are so close to the end of your strengths. But you weren’t worried about yourself, you were worried about Yoongi.
His skin was covered in sweat and yet he shivered. It was pale, grey even. He stumbled more than he walked. The redness on his back has grown, spanning all over his shoulder blades. It is almost reaching his neck too, spreading through his veins like a curse.
“Yoongi”, you whisper.
He stays quiet, barely keeping his eyes open.
“Yoongi how are you feeling?”
He glances at you and scoffs.
“He needs a break!” you call out.
The men snicker, but don’t turn around.
“Please at least give him some water!”
“Quiet whore”, one of them whips around and slaps you across the face so hard you feel your lip break. You can’t barely feel the pain which follows, you are too worried for Yoongi.
“Please just one sip.”
“He wants one sip? Fine he can have a sip”, the man spits, grabbing Yoongi’s chin harshly to force water down his throat.
Yoongi gags and chokes.
“Stop that! Stop it!”
Their laughter taunts you.
The man finally lets go of Yoongi, making him cough and fall to his knees.
“I hope you enjoyed your water, Sire.”
Yoongi grunts, twisting the dried grass between his fingers.
“Let’s get going!”
The group begins moving again. Yoongi stays on the ground.
“Yoongi stand up”, you order him shakily, “I’m ordering you to stand up”, you stress, looking behind you at the two very heavily armed men coming closer and closer.
“Hey you! Keep walking!” they call out, quickening their steps.
“Yoongi please stand up”, you beg, tugging at the sleeve of his dress, “they’re going to hurt you if you don’t stand up.”
Yoongi doesn’t budge, panting heavily.
“They’re coming Yoongi”, you fall to your knees, trying your hardest to wiggle your head between his tied up arms. You could lift him like that, if only he would let you wiggle inside.
“Stand up!” the man yells and whips Yoongi on the back.
Yoongi tenses up and lets out an almost inaudible whimper.
“Stop that! He’s already standing up!” you scream.
You tug at Yoongi’s arm, “please stand up.”
“I can’t”, he whispers shakily.
“What? No, you have to. He is going to hurt you again”, you whisper with tears in your eyes.
“Time’s over, stand up”, the man barks and raises his whip.
“No!” you exclaim, hugging Yoongi’s back to accept the hit in his stead. You whimper, grasping Yoongi’s arm tightly. It hurts like nothing you have ever felt before, forcing the tears to run down your cheeks, “why are you doing this to him? He didn’t do anything wrong! Hurt me instead!”
The man scoffs, storing his whip back on his belt.
“Don’t you get it princess? You are reserved for Morrok. We’ll just have to hurt your warrior in your stead.”
“You monsters”, you sob, hiding your face in Yoongi’s back, “Yoongi please stand up”, you beg.
“Hey Kentov help this fucker up, it’s no good if he dies here”, the leader yells from the front.
“Yes my Lord”, Kentov grumbles and grabs Yoongi’s arms, “stand up Sire, seems like the boss still wants you to live.”
Yoongi can barely stand. You are by his side in an instance, holding him as best as possible.
“I’ll help you. Lean onto me Yoongi.”
“Walk, we don’t have all day", Kentov and the other man push you and Yoongi.
Yoongi stumbles, you hold him as best as possible, forcing down a painful sob as looking at Yoongi’s face rips your heart apart.
They leave you far away from the fire, shackled to a tree and with hunger plaguing your bodies. They hit you again - Kentov and the other man - when their boss wasn’t looking. It hurt you, but you didn’t care, not when Yoongi was lying beside you unconscious and barely breathing.
“See you tomorrow princess, sleep tight.”
And with that they leave whilst laughing as if life was the greatest joy. You glare at them, cursing them silently. Yoongi moves below you, moaning in pain.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, turning him around, “no, Yoongi please wake up”
You drag him back to the tree with lots of effort. You allow him to rest his head on your lap. He rolls to his side, pulling his legs to his chest before whimpering softly.
“Why are they hurting you? Why you?” you ask shakily, caressing his ruined face with trembling fingers. It rips you apart inside for he was never supposed to bear your sufferings or those of your traitorous husband. You sob, soiling his face with your hot tears.
“I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry for doing this to you”, a whimper shakes your body, “I’m sorry.”
You tug a strand of his blonde hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his cheek desperately.
“I will fix this. I, I can fix this”, you stutter and close your eyes, “I can fix this.”
Yoongi barely takes in the spells of your ancestors you begin to whisper. He feels that his face doesn’t ache as much anymore however. You sob, whispering shakily. The words are hard to remember. You never paid attention when your mother taught you the magic of your ancestors. You curse yourself for not being more attentive, maybe then you could have already escaped your abductors and Yoongi would have never had to suffer.
At least you paid attention when your mother taught you the healing spells of your people and while you remembered only one of the dozen spells you hoped that it was the one most effective.
Yoongi opens his eyes all of sudden, looking up at you.
You touch his back.
“No!” he squeaks and flinches away. He presses his eyes closed, trembling in fear.
“Please trust me”, you whisper and sob softly, “I will stop the pain.”
Yoongi listens to the words of ancient times, eyes filling with tears because he felt it hurt less and less with every word you spoke until it stopped completely.
You open your eyes, meeting his relieved gaze.
“Did I help?” you ask him.
He nods his head, furrowing his brows, “thank you so much”, he chokes out.
Your heart fills with relief and yet it keeps aching.
You whimper, cupping his cheek, “I’m so sorry, for everything.”
“No, I’m not worthy of your respect”, you sob, “please call me by my name.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and whimpers quietly. You comb your fingers through his hair, hoping that this could lessen the pain in his mind.
“Forgive me Yoongi, I don’t deserve your forgiveness but please I am so terribly sorry”, you choke out.
Yoongi sits up with your help. He faces you, reaching out to cup your cheek and brush your tears away.
“We have to escape from here”, he whispers, “Your Highness, we can’t stay here. Who knows what they will do to you now that their restraints are gone.”
“I don’t care”, you whimper, “let them hurt me, at least I deserve to be hurt for all the cruelty I inflicted on others.”
“No my princess, you don’t want to live through this”, he insists, “you don’t know what they are capable of.”
“Why are you defending me? You said so yourself, I inflicted more pain on you than anyone else. They hurt you because of me. It’s my fault”, choke out and sob.
Yoongi grasps your face tighter, forcing you to look into his eyes. They were filled with tears, yet deep down you found comfort in them.
“I lost my sister to people like Morrok. I had to watch as they all took turns on her until she died from the pain and even then they didn’t stop. Don’t you get it? These people aren’t human and they are going to do the same thing to you once we reach Morrok.”
He rests his forehead against yours.
“I can’t let this happen to you. I made a promise to your mother to keep you safe and I intend on keeping it”, he whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.
“Yoongi”, you whimper, twisting the front of his dress. Your tears feel heavy as they roll down your cheeks, but they were nothing against the heaviness on your heart as you opened your eyes and realised that he had his closed. They were nothing against the invisible hand around your lungs as you realised that he exhaled shakily before opening them. They were nothing against the unbearable flutter in your stomach when they finally met yours.
“I will find a way, please trust me”, he whispers.
“I trust you Sire.”
He nods his head.
“Now turn around, Your Highness, I need to see if your wound is infected.”
“No, you don’t have to. I can heal myself”, you say, running your fingers over your lip to heal your cut in demonstration.
He hums in understanding and sneaks a glance at the men far away.
“You should sleep Your Highness, I feel like tomorrow we aren’t going to stop for a long time.”
“What about you?”
“I will make sure that nobody hurts you.”
“No, you should sleep in my stead. I’m not tired.”
“Your Highness I – “
You silence him by cupping his cheeks.
“This is an order, Sire.”
He falters, furrowing his brows.
“I’m not going to repeat myself”, you say sternly and settle back against the tree. You part your legs, “rest against me, I will keep you warm.”
He is hesitant, studying you from head to toe. You are offering him kindness, a warm place to sleep. This isn’t like you. What happened to the cruel princess he so liked to hate?
“Come here”, you order.
Yoongi obeys groggily. He wiggles between your tied up arms and rests against your chest. Every fibre in his body is tensed. This can’t be happening. You rest your hands on his stomach.
“Now rest back and sleep”, you whisper.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t want to rest his head back against you. This goes beyond his promise of protecting you.
“Rest”, you say sternly, forcing him to his luck with a gentle push with your hands.
Yoongi grunts, exhaling loudly the moment the back of his head collides with your shoulder.
You stay silent, abandoning Yoongi in his racing thoughts. The lines between reality and his memory of you are starting to blur more and more. Are you even the cruel princess or is your sudden kindness just a desperate act of survival now that you had nobody else but him? Did you truly want his best or were you simply trying to keep him by your side because you feared for your life? Did you care for him?
Yoongi drifted off to sleep before he could get his answers, snuggling into your chest and sighing softly.
They are talking. Kentov and another man. They are talking a few steps away from you, having their backs turned to you and Yoongi. Yoongi watches them intently, studying them from head to toe to find weaknesses in their armour.
It was silent where they abandoned him and the princess, if they weren’t talking so much the silence would have been comfortable even. The princess was currently sleeping, resting her head against Yoongi’s shoulder. He felt her every shiver because of the cold night air, wishing for fire fairies to come to her rescue and warm her with their golden breaths. He knew that tonight must be the night of their escape. The whispers of Morrok became more. They must be close. He can’t wait yet another night and risk the princess’ wellbeing in the process.
The princess shifts beside him, pressing herself closer in search for warmth. He felt himself shiver less on the parts of his body she touches. She was warming him as well.
Yoongi lowers his eyes and concentrates on cutting through his ropes again. He watches his abductors as he works, planning his attack. The man next to Kentov is only carrying his sword tonight. What a fool. Kentov only carried a small knife, playing with it mindlessly. Oh what simple fools. It will be an easy task to overwhelm them.
He turns his head to the princess and nudges her with his chin.
“Your Highness wake up”, he whispers.
The princess purrs in her sleep, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. He truly felt guilty for having to wake her. She fought bravely through her tiredness. Yoongi knew that her healing magic kept her alive, for every other person would have long died of exhaustion. But even magic has its limits and it seems that tonight was the night her body forsake her. She fell asleep on his shoulder the moment she sat down. He should allow her to sleep, but he can’t.
“Your Highness wake up”, he tries again, shaking his shoulder softly.
You groan, blinking slowly.
“It’s time Your Highness”, Yoongi says.
“For what?” your voice was heavy in sleep.
“They are speaking of Morrok again. We are getting too close, we need to flee tonight.”
You finally lift your head from his shoulder, looking at him with heavy eyes.
“Now? In this darkness?”
He nods his head, “it will hide us.”
“I understand”, you nod your head slowly, blinking your eyes, “How are we going to flee?” you ask him.
“I will do it.”
“But your limbs are tied.”
“Not anymore”, he says, revealing his untied wrists and ankles.
“How?” you gasp.
“They were foolish enough to place us next to those sharp stones. I used them to cut through the ropes”, he explains.
He gets on his knees and cups your face. You feel your cheeks tingle at the touch.
“Now stay Your Highness, I will overwhelm them”, he whispers.
Yoongi moves fast and silent. Like a phantom of white light he dances around the two men, striking them down quickly. One falls down with his neck broken. Kentov startles, turning to his now dead friend only to run directly into Yoongi’s blade. Yoongi twists the sharp blade in the eye socket of the man, muffling his screams with a suffocating grip on his mouth. Finally, Yoongi watches the life die out of Kentov’s eye. He drops his body without making a sound, pulling the blade free and wiping it on the man’s clothes.
Then he turns back to you. There was blood on his face and hands. He closes the distance between you and him, cutting through your ropes.
“That was astonishing Sire”, you gasp, grasping his arm as he helps you stand up.
“That was nothing”, he dismisses you, hurrying back to the bodies. He takes one of the men, looking at you over his shoulder, “help me Your Highness, we need to hide the bodies.”
You help him, grunting quietly as you drag the heavy body of Kentov behind some shrubs.
“Now let’s run, we need to put distance between us and Morrok’s people.”
Yoongi stops and turns. He watches you take off Kentov’s sword belt and strip the two men of their furs. You stand up, wrapping one of the furs around your body.
“Here take these.”
Yoongi strips the sword to his body and drapes the fur over his shoulders. The knife he stores in the belt as well, grasping your hand next.
“Now quiet, follow me.”
You run, using what little moonlight the tense forest allowed to shine through as your only guidance. Your legs wanted to give up on you. Sleep was still lingering in your veins, making your head so terribly dizzy. But you knew not to complain and to keep running. You weren’t just gallivanting through the forest on a moonlit night because it was fun, you were running for your lives. You aren’t allowed to stop. Yoongi said so himself, you and him needed to put as much distance between Morrok’s men and yourself as possible.
“I can see the end”, he calls over his shoulder, “hurry Your Highness it’s not long anymore.”
You watch his hair dance in the wind. Then the forest stops. The moon is blinding after the endless darkness, soaking his hair in silver lights and painting his skin in ivory. He turns, slowing down and touching your shoulders.
“Please hold on for only a little longer. You know this path don’t you?”
You nod your head, breathing so heavily you taste blood on your tongue. You have been running for too long, your healing magic is so close to forsaking you.
“We walked this path this morning, we just need to reach this forest and then we can hide in the shrubs”, he tells you, “hold on until then.”
Then you run again. You run over the endless fields, fighting the punishing winds. The furs are helping a little with the cold, but your eyes burned unbearably. You stumble and fall.
Yoongi turns, lifting you up quickly.
“Don’t stop now, it is not long anymore.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know Your Highness, me too. I’m terribly tired, but please find strength in your legs. We need to find shelter in the forest. Those fields are too open.”
The sky burns in the fires of the rising sun once you reach the forest. Behind you the moon was still setting, disappearing behind the black forest which seems like a dark spot in the distance now.
You don’t go far into the forest and then your legs are already giving up on you, dragging Yoongi down with you. You and him roll down a steep hill of sharp gravel and wet dirt, colliding with a high wall of red rocks in the end.
You groan, rolling to your back.
Yoongi grunts, head aching from hitting it against the rock on impact.
“I think my leg is broken”, you press out.
“Don’t try to move it”, he chokes out, holding his aching wrist. He is sure that he broke it as well.
“Urgh heavens”, you groan, forcing your body to sit up one last time. You stare at your slanted leg, moving it slightly. You hiss and bite down on your own hand, “oh, it is most definitely broken.”
“Don’t move it Your Highness”, Yoongi answers you, barely keeping his eyes open. Exhaustion is catching up with him.
You touch your broken bone and close your eyes. The words of your ancestors come easy to your tongue these days. Relief is instant. You can feel how your bone shifts back into its place and how your words mend the cracks.
“I healed it”, you whisper, carrying shock in your voice, “Sire, I managed to heal my broken bones.”
“Mhm, that’s good Your Highness”, he breathes.
“Sire your wrist and head”, you gasp, dragging yourself over to him. You touch his head first, whispering the words again. Yoongi sighs softly, moving his head slightly now that it wasn’t aching anymore.
“Hand me your wrist next, I will heal it.”
Yoongi is too weak to fight back, allowing you to wrap your fingers around his wrist despite the pain it causes him. The pain isn’t of long however and then blissful relief follows. His bones and tendons shift under your fingertips, healing under your spell.
“How is that?” you ask him.
He peels his eyes open slightly, nodding his head.
“Your magic is getting quicker Your Highness”, he whispers with his voice barely there.
“I know”, you smile tiredly, collapsing on the ground, “it drains me so much however.”
Yoongi hums, scooping you up in his arms. Like this you are sharing warmth again, finding comfort in his chest.
You fall asleep in an instance, sharing a deep slumber with Yoongi as above your heads the sun moves over the sky twice before your eyes finally open again.
You walked for five days then you reached a river. It was clear, reflecting the blue of the sky. You were drinking some of the water while Yoongi was washing his weapons and hands beside you when your eyes caught something moving in the reeds on the other side of the river. You squint your eyes to see better and gasp. A human!
“Sire, look there is someone in the river!”
Yoongi whips around, eyes squinted so he could see better. He picks up his sword and runs to you.
“Stay here Your Highness”, he orders you, jumping into the river.
It isn’t steep where you are sojourning, reaching Yoongi by his navel. He can wade through it easily. He turns around.
“Your Highness I told you to stay back”, he hisses.
“Well, I decided that I want to help”, you answer him.
Yoongi looks at the big stone you are holding and scoffs.
“With that?” he asks and nods at the stone
You sneak a glance at it.
“Fine, if they move try to hit them with all your power”, he murmurs and grabs your hand, “don’t let go Your Highness.”
“I won’t”, you promise him, hating your skin for prickling at the feeling.
The body was stuck in sticks and high grasses. Yoongi squats down and turns it.
A man. Black hair. His face was handsome yet pale, his plump lips were blue and purple.
“Is he dead?” you ask.
Yoongi touches the man’s neck.
“No, he’s alive.”
“Then let’s help him!” you exclaim, dropping the stone to wrap your fingers around the stranger’s wrist instead.
Yoongi stops you.
“Why are you stopping me? Look, he is clearly hurt!”
You and him look at the bite mark on the man’s leg. Blood is dyeing the water red around the water. Yoongi reaches for the man’s chest then, pulling the ripped shirt away.
“What’s that mark? Is that a raven?” you ask, looking between the stranger’s tattoo and Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi seems worried.
“Just as I had thought”, he murmurs coldly and stands up, “come Your Highness it’s not safe here”, he says and grabs your hand.
“What? But we need to help this man”, you insist loudly.
“No. He is one of them”, Yoongi says, tugging you away from the stranger.
“One of them? Morrok’s people? But they don’t wear such marks.”
“Rafkan’s people, Your Highness. He is a Raven.”
You look at the stranger.
“But…he doesn’t look like one.”
Yoongi scoffs and tugs at your arm.
“We need to keep moving”, he says dryly.
“No, I want to help this man. Maybe they marked him against his will and he escaped.”
Yoongi looks into your eyes.
“Your Highness I – “
“This is an order, Sire.”
He grinds his teeth and sighs in defeat.
“Very well, we’ll help. But I’m not staying until he wakes.”
He walks back to the stranger and lifts him onto his back. He grunts, changes his grip on the stranger’s arms and walks back to you.
“I saw a shed a hundred steps from here, we’ll lie him down by the riverbed and then we’ll leave.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, giving you one judgemental look before fighting his way through the water. You stay by his side, making sure that the stranger doesn’t slip off of Yoongi’s back.
“Do you think that someone lives in this shed?” you ask him.
“The chimney is smoking, so yes Your Highness”, he answers you.
“So let’s ask them for help. Or new clothes and some food”, you say.
“We don’t know whose side they are on Your Highness.”
You huff out air.
“You’re right, I didn’t even think of that”, you murmur.
Thankfully the river didn’t become any deeper so it was an easy task to carry the stranger to the riverbed and then set him down on the safety of dry land. You put a stone under the stranger’s head so he would rest more comfortably, even if that made Yoongi shake his head in disagreement. He watches you stand up with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Nothing”, he murmurs. He looks at the shed, a little less than fifteen steps up on the hill, “let’s go, Your Highness.”
“Where are we going now?”
“They have clothes hanging outside.”
“What? Do you want to steal that poor person’s clothes?” you gasp, wiggling your hand in Yoongi’s tight grip.
“No. I’m not going to steal!”
“You don’t have to, I will.”
He sends you a glare over his shoulder.
“We need new clothes, the weather is going to get colder. We are going to freeze in those measly dresses.”
You huff out air, “fine, but place this on their steps”, you say and take off one of your rings.
Yoongi accepts it with a grumble before stomping off to steal the clothes.
You watch him with a guilty sting in your stomach, biting on your fingernails nervously.
He returns with a heap of clothes in his arms.
“Let’s leave”, he grumbles.
“I can’t believe that we stole that person’s clothes”, you say, looking over your shoulder at the ever smaller growing shed.
“We paid for them, that ring is worth more than hundreds of those clothes. They will forgive us.”
You huff out air and kick a stone back into the river.
“Do you think the wounded stranger will be found soon?”
“By the person in the shed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think they saw us taking their clothes?”
“I hope not.
“How long do you think we still need to walk?”
“Far enough that they won’t find us.”
“Do you know where this river will lead us?”
“Do you know where we are?”
“No Your Highness.”
“Do you think this is still our home country?”
Yoongi stops and turns around. You almost collided with his body in the process, stopping with a surprised squeak leaving your throat.
“Please, for just a moment be quiet”, he hisses.
You pout, “are you forbidding me my mouth?”
“Yes Your Highness I am. We don’t know where we are or what lingers in those forests and your endless chattering will alarm everything in a radius of fifty miles.”
You cross your arms in front of your arms and furrow your brows.
“Perhaps, but I am trying to keep you alive.”
“Fine”, you give in and huff out air, “I’ll be quiet from now on.”
He nods his head in agreement and turns back around to lead the way.
You are quiet for the rest of the way, watching the back of Yoongi’s head most of the time. He is using a dirty rag to keep his long hair out of his face. He ripped it off his nightgown and the hairstyle was messy. He also dearly needs a hair wash, but you weren’t any better either. Your smell is disgusting you.
You find your shelter after an hour of walking. An abandoned shed beside the river. The windows were missing and the door was almost falling out of its hinges. It seems safe for the night, dry too and it had a working bucket inside. It was truly a welcome change to the otherwise cold and wet nights outside.
You sit down in front of it with an exhausted sigh, watching Yoongi throw the pile of clothes in front of your feet and then sit down as well. He begins sorting through the clothes in an instance, doing so with a concentrated furrow of his brows.
“You should go wash up Your Highness, I’ll take watch”, he tells you.
He looks up with bafflement on his face.
“But it’s cold.”
He scoffs and looks back at the clothes.
“Fine”, you murmur, “I’m already going.”
You hide behind a big rock so Yoongi wouldn’t be able to glance at you. Not that he would ever look at you when you were bared. You know that he was way too stuck up and obsessed with his duties to think so crudely.
You sink into the water with a loud squeak.
“What’s wrong?” you can hear Yoongi’s worried call.
“It’s so cold!” you tell him.
You don’t hear anything from him afterwards, but you know that he is most definitely scoffing right now, or maybe he is clicking his tongue instead.
The water isn’t just cold, it is icy. Your body is covered in goosebumps and shivers make your muscles tense painfully. You hate every second of being submerged and yet somehow being submerged in cold yet clean water feels like luxury after weeks of having to sleep in your own shit and piss.
And while the bath would have been even more effective with the help of soaps, you finally feel human again once you leave the river. You wrap your dirty clothes around your body, walking back to Yoongi barefoot.
“Ouch, ah, ouch”, you grunt.
Yoongi looks at you in worry, eyes widening when he sees the half-naked state you were in. He turns around quickly, scratching the side of his neck.
“Those stones hurt on the feet”, you say and sit down next to him.
He turns around even more, clearing his throat before he stands up. He has his back turned to you.
“I’m going to clean up now. I put your new clothes on the log over there”, he tells you nervously, hurrying down to the river afterwards.
You chuckle. He is so stuck-up sometimes.
Then you turn to the pile of clothes and begin to dress yourself. They are a big change to your ripped nightgown. The fabric is thick and sturdy, warming your limbs. You look down at your body. It is so peculiar to see your legs in trousers. They aren’t really tradition in your lands, for neither women nor men. You liked them however. They feel so warm. You could get used to it.
Once dressed you do your hair, tying it out of your face and neck. Your mother always told you that it was important to keep the wet hair out of your neck on a cold day, otherwise a terrible cold could take control of your body. The memory makes your chest ache. Oh what you wouldn’t give to experience it once again, if only so you could freshen up your memory of your mother’s face.
You finish the hairstyle by tying a tight knot.
“Finally, oh I feel human again”, you sigh.
You turn then.
“Oh”, you gasp.
Yoongi isn’t hiding behind the rock. He has his back turned to you, the water reaches just above his hips.
You should look away. It is rude to look.
His body is sturdier than it seemed in the loose dresses of your people. Broad shoulders and a well defined back. Strong arms with lean muscles tensing and relaxing as he rubs his body clean. His skin is fair yet covered in scars. You wonder what could have happened to him.
Yoongi lowers himself then, grunting as he does. He disappears for a moment, making you hold your breath with him.
Suddenly he emerges with a loud gasp, stroking his hands through his hair. He has his head tilted back, giving you a glimpse of his face. His eyes are closed, his lips parted as he is breathing heavily because of the cold temperature.
You should look away. You are such a dirty woman.
Yoongi stands up again. The water drips from his body, looking like stars against the sunlight. He is farther out the water now, giving you a glimpse of the beginning of his bottom.
Your heart flutters. You should look away. You have to look away. It is not your right to watch him bathe.
He turns then. Your heart races. Time allows you to see his toned torso just enough that you can notice the dozens of scars covering his pale skin and then your eyes have travelled far enough up his body that your gazes meet.
You feel like your eyes may fall out of their sockets because of how wide you rip them open. You turn away in an instance, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“What is wrong with me?” you murmur.
You can hear his steps as he makes his way back to you. He leans down to pick up his clothes, his hair is dripping water on the ground. Your heart is racing uncontrollably. Oh how you hope that he won’t call you out on your staring.
“Are you liking the clothes, Your Highness?” he asks.
“Yes, they are warm”, you answer him, touching your own cheeks to stop them from burning.
“Good”, he says dryly then disappears inside the shed to change into his clothes.
You look at him again as he leaves, running your eyes over his shoulders and down his spine to his legs.
You laugh nervously, touching your chest to feel your racing heartbeat.
“Have I lost my mind?”
Yoongi steps out after a while. He is carrying his sword. Your eyes meet, your heart beginning to flutter again. He knows what you are thinking and you know what he is thinking, yet neither one of you speaks it out loud.
“I’m going to hunt”, he says dryly.
“I’ll come with you”, you say, stumbling to your feet.
“No, stay here and prepare the fire.”
He steps closer, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. Your heart skips yet another beat at the gesture.
“Take this, use it against anyone and anything that isn’t me”, he tells you, placing a big knife in your palm.
You close your fingers around the handle, pulse racing in your chest.
“If someone tries to attack you, stab them here”, he says, pulling you closer to his body. The tip of the knife is digging into his stomach, his fingers feel strong around your wrist, keeping your hand in place.
You swallow, nodding your head.
“And if that isn’t possible, try to stab them here”, he explains further, moving the tip of the knife to his armpit, “and do it hard”, he adds, grunting quietly as he makes you poke him with the knife.
Oh you must be losing your mind. You have never felt such sparks before. As if millions of fire fairies were crawling over your skin.
“This is also a good place. If you cut deep enough it will kill them within seconds”, he says, guiding the knife to his groin, making your eyes widen in the process. His fingers tighten around your wrist, his legs part so he could show it to you better, “cut like this and they can’t walk”, he shows it to you, sending your mind into a frenzy.
You nod your head in understanding, eyes flitting up and meeting with Yoongi’s. He is frowning, he doesn’t falter under your gaze but you do. You never falter. You must be losing your mind.
“Understood?” he asks.
You clear your throat and take a step back, twisting the knife in your fingers.
“Y-yes thank you”, you say.
“Mhm”, Yoongi says, turning his back to you. He looks at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be back at nightfall. Don’t go too far.”
“I-I won’t”, you stutter.
“Mhm”, he nods his head in contentment then finally runs into the forest.
He soon disappears behind high trees and tense shrubs.
“Ha”, you let out and laugh breathlessly, “I must be losing my mind. I must be losing my mind. I just must.”
You had been trying for hours to light this fire.
“Come on, how hard can it be to light a fire?” you murmur angrily.
The door opens and in steps Yoongi, carrying two rabbits. He studies you from head to toe then looks at the unlit fire.
"I was out for three hours, what did you do in this time?" he asks, squatting down next to you to take the stones out of your hands.
"Trying to start a fire", you hiss.
Yoongi hits the stones together. Sparks fly, the dry grass is catching fire in an instance.
“How did you manage to do that?” you gasp.
He clicks his tongue, sneaking a look your way. Yoongi blows on the embers until flames swirl in his breath and reach the wood.
"Oh why is it smoking so much?" you gasp, coughing loudly.
"Where did you get those twigs from?"
"The forest, I picked them."
"Did you pick them off the ground or off the trees?"
"The trees of course, the wood on the ground looked dirty."
Yoongi scoffs, shaking his head.
"The wood is too wet, pick up the twigs off the ground next time."
You huff out air, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and scoffs.
"You're belittling me."
"I wouldn’t dare", he murmurs sarcastically and straightens up, "there we go, the fire should burn despite the wrong twigs. Come let's skin the rabbits."
"Yes?" he quirks up his left brow, "unless you want to eat them with their fur."
"No, n-no of course not I am just", you laugh nervously.
"Have you never skinned a rabbit before?"
"Of course not. Why should I have? I'm the princess."
"Well", he clicks his tongue, "you're going to learn tonight”, he says dryly and throws one of the dead rabbits on your lap.
You gagged as you did it. You gagged and almost threw up. So Yoongi ended up doing the rest of your rabbit, giving you the task of fetching water from the river. You didn’t miss the judgment in his voice as he spoke.
You managed to fetch water, that task was easy enough for you. Oh you felt like such a useless idiot.
Yoongi in the meantime had stuck the rabbits into the flames to cook. He is staring into the fire when you enter the shed, lips pressed into a thin line and brows furrowed.
He raises his head at the sound of the door closing.
"Yes I am and I got water."
Yoongi scoffs in amusement, looking back into the flames. You claim your previous spot next to Yoongi, placing the bucket of water between you and him.
Yoongi fetches water, presenting it to you.
"Drink Your Highness."
"Thank you", you accept it.
The water is cold and tastes clean. After the torture you have been through you will always cherish this sensation.
You prepare a bowl for Yoongi once you finish yours.
"You need to drink too, Sire."
Yoongi looks at the bowl then into your eyes.
"Thank you", he accepts it and drinks.
You look into the flames, watching the rabbits slowly turn brown. Yoongi cleans his hands in the remaining water, drying them on his ruined nightgown which he had crumbled up beside him.
"Do you think that we can return home one day?" you ask.
"Yes, I truly hope you can."
"And you?" you ask, turning your head to him.
"I'll make sure that you will."
"God, you are truly dedicated to your duties aren’t you?"
"Yes, Your Highness, they are important to me."
"Is that why you accepted everything I did to you?"
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way.
"I truly feel terrible for my past, I never should have hurt you. You truly didn’t deserve it."
Yoongi stays silent, fumbling with his fingers nervously.
"You know", you look at his face, "I never actually thought you ugly. I just said it because everyone else said it" you pause, studying his face, "I apologize, you aren’t ugly."
Yoongi blinks rapidly, lowering his head before turning away. He laughs quietly, almost in disbelief even, shaking his head and scratching the side of his neck.
"Where did you get the scar on your face from?"
He falters, sneaking a glance your way. You seem honest in your interest.
"From my days on the streets", he says quietly, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Forgive me for asking."
He dismisses with a quick shake of his head.
"Is that where you got all the other scars from too?"
Yoongi touches his torso, "some of them. Many I got from protecting the Queen."
You inhale shakily.
"Fuck", he presses out and lowers his head, "I should have been with her. If I ran faster I could have saved her. It's my fault that she is dead."
"No Sire, no. It's not your fault. It was Morrok's people who killed her. You did your best. And if mother was here right now she would tell you that you are truly her strongest warrior."
Yoongi lets out a trembling breath and squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t cry, not in front of you.
"And also thank you for deciding to save me and for keeping me safe", you say.
“Mhm”, he hums and nods his head. He is squeezing his own fingers so much that his knuckles are turning white.
"Can I be blunt with you?"
"I'm a pitiful woman."
Yoongi looks at you in confusion.
"I never killed something before, all the trophies on the walls are that of my friends. I just pretended that they were mine.”
You laugh painfully, “and without you I would already be dead, I have no idea of the workings of the world."
Yoongi scoffs, "yeah I noticed”, he murmurs, earning himself a glare from you.
"Fine I'll take that blow”, you murmur and pout.
Yoongi chuckles deeply, shaking his head.
"And yet", your smile falls, "I can't help but feel guilty. My mother insisted I study the spells of our ancestors and yet I never paid attention in her lessons."
You throw a small piece of wood into the fire.
"She taught me many spells, powerful spells which could have prevented all of this. And yet I never even tried to remember them. If I had then –" you ball your hands into fists, "– if I had then perhaps we could have fled weeks ago and you would have never had to suffer."
Yoongi studies you. Regret. He thought that he would never see such an emotion on your face.
"I'm such a pitiful woman."
"No you’re not."
"You’re not pitiful just…spoiled.“
He makes you laugh, truly and honestly laugh. It confuses Yoongi, who had never seen you so happy before.
“Oh Sire”, you say and chuckle, “you know? There was a time when I couldn’t stand your bluntness, but I must say you are truly a cheer to talk to.”
You give him a smile. Yoongi looks at your lips and knits his brows, looking away for your reaction is utterly confusing him.
“I want to be different from now on. I want to study the spells of our ancestors and I want to use them to restore our home and to heal and nurture and be good”, you say and smile, “and I want you to teach me the arts of fighting.”
Your eyes meet. Yoongi seems flabbergasted.
“Can you do that for me Sire?”
He blinks rapidly, “yes Your Highness I-“, he clears his throat, “-of course I can teach you.”
You give him another smile, it makes him look away in confusion again.
“Thank you, Sire.”
He picks up a piece of wood and throws it into the flames.
“Call me Yoongi, Your Highness.”
“Fine, if you call me by my name as well.”
“I – “, he sneaks a glance your way.
He stands up all of a sudden.
“Where are you going?” you ask him.
“I’m getting new water”, he murmurs and storms out of the shed with the bucket in his hands.
“Why did he seem so flustered?” you whisper under your breath.
Yoongi returns when the rabbits have long finished cooking. You waited with eating, lifting your head once he finally returns.
“Finally you are back, the rabbits have finished cooking”, you tell him.
“Mhm”, he hums, setting the filled water bucket down between you and him.
He sits down with his legs crossed, picking up his rabbit. He begins eating it in silence, staring into the flames.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“No”, he says.
You chuckle, “fine, let’s eat in silence.”
Once you finished your meals and discarded the bones in the flames, Yoongi takes his nightgown and rolls it up. He lies down on his back close to the fire, resting his hands on his stomach. He keeps his eyes open, staring at the roof with his lips pressed into a thin line.
You do the same. Roll up your nightgown and lie down on the ground. You chose the spot between the fire and Yoongi, resting on your side to look at him.
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way.
“What?” he asks nervously.
“Nothing, you just have rabbit on your cheek”, you say and reach out to clean it off the corner of his lips.
He furrows his brows and moves his head away. He feels so peculiar in his chest. Your fingers aren’t supposed to be able to touch him so tenderly.
“Sleep Your Highness”, he presses out, closing his eyes.
“Are we going to walk again tomorrow?”
You shiver, pulling the fur over your shoulders.
“I miss our home”, you say, making Yoongi clench his jaw.
“I can’t stand the cold, it hurts.”
“Neither can I”, Yoongi answers you and tries to close his tunic as best as possible.
“Do you think that we will still have to walk for long?”
“Yes, the sun sets eight hours after rising. We are further north than I had thought.”
“How long does the sun take to set at home?”
Yoongi scoffs and laughs quietly, “you are asking me questions.”
“Well, do you know the answer?”
“Well that explains why it is always so warm”, you murmur, reaching out to touch his arm.
He tenses up under your touch.
“Can we hold each other again for warmth?” you ask quietly and watch his chest rise and sink in a deep breath.
“If you insist.”
You hum then scoot closer to drape your arm across his stomach. You grunt and wiggle, trying to find a comfortable resting place for your head. Yoongi sighs in defeat.
“Raise your head.”
You follow. Yoongi places his arm under your head, closing it around you to press you closer.
Now you are resting on his shoulder, lips inches away from his neck and heart racing in your chest.
“Sleep well”, he whispers and closes his eyes.
“You too”, you breathe, letting your eyes flutter closed.
Birds are chirping and in the distance the river gurgles. The air smells clean, carrying a faint hint of the fading embers of the once bright fire of last night. It is bright behind your eyelids, making the otherwise blackness seem glowing red. You are alone on the ground for your arms are holding nothing and your stomach is terribly cold.
Then you finally open your eyes, rolling onto your back with a soft sigh.
“Oh I truly miss my bed”, you groan, stretching your torso in an attempt to get rid of the ache in your lower back.
You sit up.
Yoongi isn’t here, as a matter of fact, he even left the shed door open.
“Oh dear, hopefully he didn’t run off without me.”
He didn’t run off. He is sitting by the riverbed, legs crossed and with the sunlight warming his limbs. He was currently trying to tie his hair out of his face, seemingly struggling with it.
“Good morning Sire”, you announce yourself.
He looks over his shoulder, “good morning Your Highness”, he murmurs and returns to his task of doing his hair.
"Let me help", you offer.
He shakes his head.
You sit next to him, crossing your legs. Then you turn your head to watch him. He is trying again, lips curled into a concentrated pout and long fingers struggling with picking up his hair.
"I slept well tonight", you say.
"Good, you need the strength", he answers you, grunting when his hair falls out of his fingers once again.
"I also really enjoyed rabbit. I must say it is wonderful to eat again."
"I think so too”, his hair falls again, “oh heavens! Will you stay!?"
You laugh, earning yourself an annoyed glare from him. He looks ridiculous with half his hair in a slanted bun and the other half hanging into his face.
"Please just let me help, I can’t have you walking around looking as if you fought a Morgul by yourself", you say in a chuckle, closing the distance between you and him.
"Do you even know how to do that?" he asks.
"Yes of course I do. I am the eldest sister. Do you have any idea how often my siblings come into my room to ask for their hair to be tied? So let me help."
He grinds his teeth and huffs out air. He hands you the piece of fabric in defeat.
"I spent too many days braiding and brushing and tying up hair that I could work as a hairdresser if I wanted to."
Yoongi chuckles quietly. It makes you smile as well.
You first open his attempt at a bun. You shake out his hair, thinking to yourself that it looks like strings of gold in the morning sun.
Yoongi is twisting the fabric of his pants. The touch makes him shiver. It isn’t his place to shiver.
"Now, the secret to a good bun is a good comb, but we can’t ask for luxury here", you say and begin combing your fingers through his hair, "my fingers will have to suffice."
You pick up the strands of hair which are still hanging into his face. Yoongi is fighting against the urge to close his eyes for your fingertips felt like heaven as they danced across his forehead.
“Perfect. Now I have all of your hair in a tight hold”, you say, “now our traditional ways would ask for a pin to twist your hair around, however we don’t – “
Yoongi raises a stick, “could that work?”
You chuckle, “I can work with that. Oh Yoongi, this is going to be a peculiar hairstyle”, you say, twisting his long hair around the stick in the traditional ways of your people.
Yoongi grinds his teeth, eyelids fluttering. The twist makes his scalp tingle. He shouldn’t feel such reactions.
“Now, let’s see if the stick can hold your hair”, you say and let go, “it does! How wonderful!” you exclaim.
You place your hands on his shoulders, digging your thumbs into his tense shoulders.
Yoongi forces down a sigh, fighting against the urge to roll his shoulders into your touch.
“We are done”, you let him know, stroking your hands down his arms. His muscles follow your touch, tensing and relaxing. You watch the vein in his neck twitch as his heart skips a beat. Your lips tingle in funny ways, almost as if they wanted to feel the twitch.
You touch his elbows, squeezing them softly.
“You look alluring with your hair like this”, you whisper.
Yoongi’s head snaps around, his eyes round and widened and his lips parted in shock. You look at them for only a second before nervousness makes your heart flutter unbearably.
“Ha”, you laugh breathily, pulling your hands away, “please forgive me.”
Your gazes meet in a second of braveness before breaking again.
“Ha”, he lets out, lowering his head, “we should keep moving, we can’t afford staying at a place too long. It’ll alarm people.”
“Of course, we should move”, you murmur, staring at your fingers in disbelief. You touched him.
You walk a lot this day, following the river until crossing it over a wooden bridge and following the sun instead. You were further up north than Yoongi had initially thought so he told you. That was the only conversation you and him had on your long journey for your mind was racing with something else instead, repeating the imagery of his golden hair between your fingers over and over again.
You touched him this morning and told him that he looked beautiful. You feel as if you were losing your mind, for whenever you looked at him all you wanted to do was stare at him a little longer. Perhaps you spent too much time with him as your only companion. Perhaps you were losing your mind and all the time spent with him made your brain develop a magical attraction to him.
Yoongi disappeared inside a cave ten minutes ago, leaving with a quiet “I will make sure it is safe, stay here Your Highness”.
You were waiting outside for a while, shivering in the cold and watching the winds swirl over the lands. Then you saw a squirrel, red bushy fur and big round eyes. It was breaking some nuts on the rocks just a few steps from you. You decided to follow it down the path you and Yoongi had walked up before. The knife is clasped tightly between your fingers, the tip of your tongue is sticking out the corner of your mouth in concentration. The squirrel is going to be yours tonight, you will show Yoongi just how well you can hunt too. You are so concentrated on hunting that Yoongi’s worried voice is like a whisper in your ear.
Just a few more steps and dinner will be yours.
You give him no reaction, tiptoeing closer and closer to the stone the squirrel is currently sitting on.
“Don’t go there!”
Almost there. It can’t escape now.
Yoongi tugs you back roughly, eliciting a surprised squeak from you. The squirrel jumps away.
“No!” you exclaim, whipping around, “you scared it away.”
“And you are inches away from dropping to your death”, he throws back.
Only now you notice just how tightly he is holding you and the beginning of the steep cliff under the tips of your toes. You shiver, taking a step back.
“How did I not notice that?” you gasp.
“I’m asking myself that too. Let’s go, the cave is safe for the night.”
He tugs at your arm, stomping up the path with his brows furrowed.
“You must think I am a complete fool”, you say, stumbling after him.
He sends you a look over his shoulder. You trip, stumble, catch yourself with the help of Yoongi.
“I was catching dinner.”
“Tzt”, he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You have to stop belittling me. I did your hair this morning”, you complain loudly, slipping on a rock.
Yoongi whips around and tugs you back up. His eyes are burning in anger. You ignore it, straightening your back as if nothing ever happened.
“So I am better than you at something too. Without me your hair would still look like a mess”, you say, reaching up to poke your finger into his bun.
Yoongi blinks rapidly and moves his head away.
“Stop doing that”, he says.
“Touch me like that.”
Your eyes flit to his lips. Yoongi can watch it happen, wetting his lips in response.
“Ha”, you let out, eyes flitting to the side, “I don’t know what you mean.”
He scoffs and turns his back to you.
The fire is burning an hour later, warming your frozen limbs and illuminating the little cave. Yoongi caught two elkbirds. They are big birds with purple feathers and an orange peak. They looked beautiful. Their screams however sounded like songs of Morguls, bone shattering and it can make even the bravest warrior tremble in fear. Their flesh also tasted surprisingly similar to chicken, however one always says that about foreign meat so it was to one to decide how much truth they want to see in such a statement. It nourished your starved body however and that was all that was of importance to you tonight.
You stretch out your arms, holding your hands above the flames.
“Oh how I have grown to love the presence of fires”, you say.
Yoongi nods his head, wrapping his fur around his torso tighter.
You chuckle, “I never thought that I would hear myself say something like that”, you laugh, “or that I would eat a elkbird for that matter.”
You stretch out your legs, wiggling your toes to warm even the most hidden parts of your feet. You can hear the storm outside. It was singing, howling in the valley below and carrying the snow of the high mountain peaks with it. You know that it is because you can watch it cover the ground outside your cave. It was significantly warmer in the cave, yet nothing can truly beat the comfort of your castle walls when the fireplaces were crackling calmingly and your body was submerged in a nice smelling bath.
"Do you know what I'm going to do first once I'm home again?"
"I'm going to take a long and hot bath. And I want it to smell like vanilla. And I want to eat Harken Cake and drink warm apple juice while I bathe", you say and sigh in blissful memory.
"Mhm, that sounds nice", Yoongi agrees.
"What are you going to do first?"
"Make sure the castle is safe."
"No not - gosh Sire I meant after our duties are done", you say and chuckle, "what are you going to do once everything is safe again?"
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and shrugs his shoulders.
"Come now, you must have something you want to do."
"Sleep. I want to sleep in the comfort of my bed again with five blankets and a soft pillow under my head", he answers you and shifts restlessly, "and maybe I want to eat Harken Cake too and drink warm apple juice."
"Mhm that sounds nice. Oh Sire, I truly miss home."
"I know Your Highness. Me too."
You turn so your back would be facing the fire. You shiver at first, feeling goosebumps run along your spine and arms. The change in temperature feels so nice on your skin. You can look at Yoongi in this position. His naked feet are buried in the fur you placed on the ground, his hands are folded, rubbing each other for warmth and his head is lowered slightly, eyes half-lidded as well. A single strand of hair had fallen out his bun, hanging into his face. It ends right where his eyebrow arches the highest.
“Do think that Morrok’s men are looking for us?” you ask him.
“I can’t say, perhaps. We killed two of their men and you’re the princess. They lost precious merchandise.”
“They are not going to find us, are they?”
He shakes his head.
You study his face. The flames cast dark shadows on his features, illuminating the rest in warmth.
“You truly aren’t a man of many words are you?”
"I don't have much to say or tell."
"Oh come now Sire, now you are being mean to yourself. I'm sure you have many stories to tell."
Yoongi raises his head, looking into your eyes with a sort of bafflement. He squeezes his own hands and lets out a breathy scoff, turning his head away.
"Tell me something, Sire."
He exhales through his nose and shakes his head.
"Come, anything you want to tell."
He sneaks a glance at you, bouncing his knee up and down twice.
"I enjoy music", he says quietly, clenching his jaw in embarrassment afterwards.
"Music? Oh that’s nice. I enjoy it too. Do you have a favourite kind of music?"
"No. I don’t know…" he looks at you again for only a second then he looks away, "…I like songs which tell a story."
"So the ones with poems in their singing?"
He nods his head, "or with...emotion in their melodies."
You find yourself smiling. That is something you truly hadn’t expected from him, yet it feels so perfectly fitting for him now that you know.
"That's lovely, Sire. I shall hold a festival of song and dance then once we are home."
He furrows his brows in confusion.
"It will be my tribute to you. For keeping me safe and also for being such good company in those endless weeks."
He flusters, shifting on the spot and touching the side of his neck. You know that he is not going to answer you. He seems too overwhelmed for that. So you turn to warm your stomach and face, closing your eyes in contentment.
“Are you good at keeping secrets, Sire?”
He hesitates at first. You look at him over your shoulder.
“Yes", he finally says.
“Well then I want to tell you something because I trust you.”
Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
“I didn’t hurt you because you helped my traitorous husband, I hurt you because I was jealous of you.”
He laughs dryly. You turn and send him a glare.
“Don’t laugh, I am telling the truth.”
He stops laughing, looking at you with his face contorted in bafflement.
“Why would you be jealous of me?”
“Because my husband didn’t like what I have between my legs, but instead he liked what you have.”
Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion. You sigh loudly and turn back to the flames.
“I was never intimate with him because he couldn’t harden no matter how hard I tried. Later, I found him hiding behind the door to watch you train. He was touching himself.”
Yoongi widens his eyes and parts his lips.
“I hated you for it and I also felt ashamed”, you lower your eyes, “so I told everybody that I hurt you because you helped my husband that one time. When in reality I hurt you because I wanted revenge because you had what I couldn’t have.”
You sigh and laugh painfully.
“Perhaps that is also another reason why I called you ugly. I felt less ugly myself when I did it.”
Yoongi scoffs and lowers his head.
“Now tell me Sire, how often did you please him?”
“What?” he stares at you in shock.
You turn. There was no anger on your face, no jealousy or distaste. Just honest interest and perhaps childish hopefulness.
“You can be honest with me. Was it every night?”
Yoongi laughs dryly. He looks to the side, outlining the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“I never pleased him, the only times I interacted with him was when I helped him up and later when I killed him.”
You let out a breath of relief and laugh.
“That feels good to hear. At least my marriage wasn’t as broken as I thought it was.”
Yoongi furrows his brows and grinds his teeth. He watches you throw a little rock into the flames and lower your eyes in sadness afterwards. Perhaps it was the long time he spent with you, but he didn’t like seeing you sad. Not anymore at least. He wants to see you smile. Perhaps he truly was losing his mind.
So he scoots closer to you, so close in fact that the fabrics of your clothes were touching. He drapes his fur across your shoulders, making you lean into him.
“It wasn’t your fault”, he says.
You turn to look at him. He seems so tall in this position. You resting on the ground between his legs and him sitting on a log. You didn’t mind that he towered over you for the comfort in his gaze gave you the feeling that you and him were equal.
“It wasn’t your fault that your husband liked the other kind of private parts. And it doesn’t mean that you are ugly.”
You blink rapidly and chuckle nervously. You turn away, staring into the flames with your heart racing in your chest.
"Do you think I’m beautiful?" you ask him quietly, waiting for his answer with bated breath.
Yoongi inhales through his nose and exhales loudly.
"Yes", he whispers so quietly you almost missed it.
You turn, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes. He glances at you, looking up at the ceiling a moment later.
“You are going to fluster me”, you confess in a whisper.
He exhales in a nervous laugh and lowers his head. You study his features, finding magic in the way his nose curved. You draw closer until your arm touched his leg and he tenses up in nervousness.
“Are you like my husband too?” you ask him.
He shakes his head.
“But I never saw you with a woman. Most of my warriors found love with my servants. Why didn’t you?”
“Because they are fools. Love will blind one to one’s duties. If fewer of my men had their minds twisted by a woman then we could have protected the castle, but instead of following their duties they ran to rescue their lovers.”
“And you blame it on the magic of women instead of the human nature of wanting to protect the ones we love? Weren’t you also running to protect my mother?”
“Yes but I…” he falters, “…I did that because it was my duty.”
“Did you love my mother?”
He shakes his head, “not like my men loved their women.”
“But you loved her in a different way.”
“She saved me from death, I owed her.”
“Like a son owes his mother his life?”
“My mother was a great woman. Truly, her death carved a big hole into my chest.”
“It plaques me too”, he confesses in a whisper.
You rest your head against his knee, making him tense up even more. Perhaps it was the dim light of the fire, perhaps it was the privacy of the cave or perhaps it was your body’s desire to feel another’s skin, but you placed your hand on his other knee and danced your thumb over it softly.
“Do you sometimes wish to love like a man loves a woman?”
“Your Highness”, he begins and sighs, “you shouldn’t ask me that question”, he says, moving his knee away.
You sit up, resting on your knees. You are facing him completely, making him visibly scoot back.
“You don’t want this”, he says and points at his face, “it doesn’t belong side by side with a princess.”
“What makes you think that I was asking this question in my own interest?” you ask, slightly flustered.
Yoongi looks into your eyes, bewildered as well.
“Why did you touch me then?”
“I truly don’t know. Perhaps I lost my mind.”
“Perhaps you did.”
You laugh breathlessly. Yoongi’s eyes race between yours, flitting to your lips ever so often.
He tenses up when you touch his knee again, freezing up more when you straighten up until you are face to face with him.
“Perhaps”, you begin, allowing your hand to slip to the beginning of his inner thigh, “perhaps I truly lost my mind. I think I like you, Sire.”
He lets out a loud laugh, moving his leg away.
“You confuse me”, he presses out.
“Yes!” you exclaim and nod your head, “I confuse myself for I swore to never like you and yet here I am, enjoying your presence and seeking your closeness.”
Yoongi’s eyes race between yours.
“And I understand now why my husband liked you”, you say and laugh, “you see Sire? I am losing my mind.”
Yoongi turns his head away, fumbling with his fingers.
“Your husband was a fool.”
“Yes, he was”, you agree, leaning closer to brush your lips over his neck.
Yoongi raises his shoulder to his ear and flinches away. Your gazes meet in shock.
“Your Highness, did you drink?”
You shake your head, “how?”
“Then stop that. All this walking is making you delusional, you won’t want this once we are home again.”
You lean closer and place a kiss on his scar, right on top of his cheek. You pull back, holding your breath. And while you were holding your breath, Yoongi releases it shakily, eyes looking everywhere but your face.
You kiss it again and again and again until you kissed it from its beginning on Yoongi’s forehead all the way over his eyelid and down to its end on his cheek.
You pull back after stubbing it with the tip of your nose. Your fingers are hooked behind his neck, your eyes race between his. You have never felt your heart race that much before
“Stop that", he chokes out, closing his fingers around your wrists to pull your hands away.
You fight his hold, reaching for his face again. He moves away, pulling your hands from his face.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks, eyes filled with nervous anger.
You kiss the corner of his lips, resting your fingers on his cheeks. He turns his head in your direction for a quick second, gazing at your lips with his eyes half-lidded. Another kiss. It flusters him, making him turn away again.
“Truly, you don’t want this. I'm not a good lover, my hands are rough from fighting and my f-face and body are covered in scars. I'm too ugly for you."
"No you’re not Sire."
"Ha", he lowers his eyes, "yes I am. The court would agree."
"No. You –“
You silence him with a kiss, short and hesitant. He pulls away in an instance, laughing nervously. You give him a smile and draw closer, cupping his cheek and pulling his waist snuck against yours with a strong arm.
"Ha", he lets out, squirming in your hold and looking at where your body touches his.
You lower your head, claiming his lips in a kiss again. It forces him to lift his head and to close his eyes for you were not intending to stop. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him some more, sucking on his lower lip until he can’t help but sigh and touch your face. He cups your cheeks with such tenderness that one could believe he was scared to break you. His shoulders are raised to his ears, his legs restless as he squirms in your hold. And still his lips danced with yours, using your sighs and the crackling of the fire as their melodies.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when he tried to pull away you chased him and kissed him deeper until the tip of your tongue was outlining his lips.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when his lips parted and his tongue met yours in the middle, a sound of pleasure slipped past your lips and your fingers reached up to open his hair.
It falls in soft waves, framing his face and twisting between your fingers as you run them through his locks. He shudders at the sensation.
Perhaps you truly lost your mind for when he did the same to you and opened your hair to hold it between his fingers, it drove you on top of his lap until your stomach was pressed against his and you felt his chest trembling in a deep sigh.
Perhaps however you didn’t lose your mind and experiencing the feeling of finally being kissed back made you so addicted to the sensation that you became greedy. And perhaps it made you just that greedier because it was Yoongi you were kissing and he truly had the best lips to kiss.
Yoongi runs his fingers down your spine, dancing them up your back in soft swirls. He cups your face, fingers resting on the sides of your neck. They felt warm on your skin, carrying a sheer layer of sweat on the tips. You know that he was nervous. You were nervous too, you noticed it in the way your fingertips trembled as you ran them along his collarbones and shoulders.
You don’t like Yoongi. You told that to all your friends, your family and you were sure your servants knew as well. You thought it to be true and that it would always stay true, but now as if magic changed your heart you like him. It was scaring you so much that your stomach twisted when he showed the first indicator of enjoyment in the form of a trembling mewl against your lips. Perhaps however your stomach also twisted because you never heard such a sound before and it made you feel warm between your legs.
You break the kiss, resting your forehead against that of Yoongi. You keep your eyes closed, so does Yoongi. His shaking breath is tickling your cheek, intermingling with yours. You touch his cheek, running your thumb over his scar softly. It makes him sigh and his fingers twitch in a gentle grasp.
“I feel there is no going back from here”, you whisper.
“No, there isn’t”, he answers you, tilting his head up to run his lips along your cheek until you turn to claim them in a kiss instead.
He trembles in surprise, pressing his legs together. The movement makes you scoot up his lap and press your core against his crotch.
You and him break the kiss at the same time, both gasping in shock because of what you found.
“Is that how this feels?” you ask, sneaking a glance down his body.
“So it seems”, he murmurs, hiding it behind his big hand.
“Why are you hiding it?”
Your eyes meet.
“Because you are married and my princess.”
You shake your head, “I’m not married anymore, you made sure that I was free of that burden.”
You touch his chest.
“It is so exciting to be the reason a man hardens”, you confess and run your hands down his stomach, “can you show it to me?"
With a nervous sigh slipping past his lips he removes his hand, revealing the prominent dent in his pants to your eyes.
"That looks so exciting", you whisper, rolling your hips over his thigh at the view, "ah, it makes me feel so warm between my legs."
Yoongi swallows heavily, "I-I can feel that."
You look up, cupping his face between your hands.
"Can you show me how it feels to be intimate, Sire?”
Yoongi blinks rapidly. He shakes his head, “I, I don’t know anything about that.”
“Oh?” you blink vigorously.
He lowers his eyes.
“Well, then do you want to find out about it together?”
Yoongi falters in his answer. You speed up his decision by placing your pointer finger on the swell in his pants and stroking it softly. He bites down on his lower lip, inhaling loudly through his nose and furrowing his brows.
“Your Highness, we’re not of the same rank”, he chokes out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. His hand is fighting your touch and yet at the same time it is pulling you closer. He has duties to fulfil and yet deep down his desire to follow them was lost the moment you kissed his neck.
“I don’t care, that is the great thing about being the princess, I can choose who I want to court.”
“And you choose me?”
“Because I like you, Sire.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He releases it in a surprised grunt as he feels your lips against his neck all of a sudden. You are holding his hair away, playing with it mindlessly as your lips continue their endless dance. You can feel his vein twitch as his heart skips a beat and for the first time tonight you are making a sound as well. It feels more exciting than you had imagined it to feel.
"Please Sire, I want to experience it with you", you plead, cupping his hardened length and rubbing it slowly.
He grunts and trembles, big hands landing on your hips. He stands up with you then, carrying you to the fire to place you on top of the fur. You look at him. His golden hair is hanging into his face, falling on each side of your head and shielding you from everything except his features.
You reach up and trace his scar again. He closes his eyes and parts his lips in a shaky exhale.
Yoongi remembers many occasions where you touched his scar and yet he never felt such comfort from it as he does tonight. There was no disgust in your touch, no anger or coldness. Just tenderness and a certain awe, which left his chest feeling light. It also made it tingle as if fire fairies were fluttering inside of it.
He leans down and places a kiss on your neck in the same way you kissed his’. You shiver, picking up a big bundle of his hair. It tickles your skin, following Yoongi’s movements as he kisses along your neck to reach the other side.
You sigh his name and close your eyes, parting your legs for your middle burned unbearably. It allows his body to draw closer and for his hips to rest against yours. You can feel how hard he was, it rubs against your core and soaks your pants in your wetness.
Kissing your neck comes so natural to him. He never did what his fellow soldiers did with their women. He didn’t even read about it, let alone talk about it to other people and yet in this moment he felt that kissing your neck was the only right thing to do. Not only for you, but also for him. Oh how many times he fantasized about wrapping his fingers around your neck and squeezing until you finally drew your last breath. Oh how many times he wished for you to slip on the stairs and break it in your fall. Those desires sound like those of a cruel madman in his mind now. He doesn’t want to destroy such a delicate neck anymore, not when he can worship it in kisses instead.
“Oh”, you let out and try to breathe only to end up choking on your air and having to laugh.
Yoongi lifts his head, looking at you in confusion.
“You made me choke on my own air”, you confess and laugh, “oh this feels so good. Do it again."
Yoongi licks over his lips and lowers himself again. He may know nothing about the intimacies between man and woman, but he knows that kissing your neck made you shiver beneath him. He knows that this was a good sign and so he continues what he is good at in fear that if he did something new you wouldn’t enjoy it.
You abandon his hair to touch his arms instead. They are tense in the position, holding up his body with little struggle. You run them along the ridges of his muscles until you abandon them for the sake of feeling his torso instead. First his neck, you run your fingers along the soft curve of where his neck meets his shoulders then dance them to the nape of it to play with the fine hair on it. For only a second you allowed your fingers to linger then it was already time for them to explore a new inch of his body. The movement made the strings of his tunic open at the front, revealing his heated chest to your fingertips.
He squirms above you, losing his way and kissing your collarbones instead of your neck. You sigh, slipping your hand into his tunic to caress his pecs. They were sculpted from the heavy fighting he had to do in his years as your warrior for the Glass Mountains with its Ruby Valleys and Emerald Lakes were always a conflict ridden country. It became worse with the arrival of Morrok the madman and Yoongi and his warriors spent many months away from the castle, ridding the land of his followers and keeping the peace for as best as possible.
You hope – as you run your fingers along every single scar – that you have enough magic in your fingertips to heal the memories they bear with them. After weeks and weeks of hunger, thirst and frozen limbs you know exactly the pains and discomforts he must have endured on his journeys.
You brush your fingers over his nipple, making him snap up in a shudder of his body and a shaky gasp. His eyes are widened, blinking rapidly. Your fingers rest frozen on his chest, allowing your warmth to soak even the deepest parts of his body.
“What?” you ask him.
“What did you just do?”
You repeat what you had done, watching how it makes his lips part in a silent moan. They close again a second later, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet them. Oh how rosy his lips are and how pretty they glisten in the shine of the fire.
You do it again. Feeling his nipple pebble and his chest rumble in a barely there moan. He exhales shakily, corners of his mouth curling upwards.
“What?” you stress, “why are you reacting like that?”
Yoongi moves without words. He opens the strings of your tunic and slips his hand inside. Your eyes widen. On the ceiling of the cave the flames make sceneries of dancing shadows appear and yet all you can truly take in is Yoongi slipping the tunic to the side, cupping your breast and then wrapping his lips around your nipple.
“Sire!” you gasp, fighting for air with your lips opening and closing repeatedly.
Such warmth. It seeps into your skin until it reaches your heart. You tremble as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your swollen pebble just this moment. You laugh and tug on his hair. He releases you with a quiet bop of his lips, flitting his eyes up in a silent question as to why you stopped him.
The truth was that the sensation scared you. It felt too good and you feared that if he continued you would lose control over your body.
“Did I go too far?” he asks with his voice slightly raspy in arousal.
You nod your head, “I fear that if you continue I might lose control over my body. I heard that it will subside again once you reach your high, but what if I am different and I will never be normal again?”
Yoongi scoffs, flustering you.
“Why are you laughing? What if you will never be normal either?”
“I stopped being normal the moment you kissed my neck, Your Highness, I’m not scared of losing myself.”
You lower your eyes, “now you are making me seem like such a coward.”
He chuckles softly, lowering his head to your chest. He darts his tongue out and flicks it over your nipple.
“Oh”, you gasp, widening your eyes for only a second before closing them. One more flick of his tongue and you let go of his hair to hold his shoulders instead. Perhaps you need to be braver. You survived being beaten and tied up in the cold, you survived having to walk for days without water or food let alone sleep. You will survive the unbearable heat of Yoongi’s touch as well, including all the consequences it bears.
Yoongi kisses the skin next to your nipple then follows the path his pointer finger paints until he is on your neck again. You shiver, hugging him closer so you could feel his naked chest press against your exposed breasts. You didn’t even know that another person’s skin can feel so good against your own.
“Yoongi”, you sigh.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Yoongi whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“I want to know how it feels to be breached.”
“Are you sure Your Highness?”
“Yes. Do you want to give me your innocence too?”
He looks into your eyes and then something happens to his face you thought would never happen to his face. The ivory of his cheeks turns the softest red. It spreads all across his nose as well.
“Yes, Your Highness”, he confesses, making your heart skip a beat in your chest.
So you and him undress messily, hiding under the fur not only to keep the cold out but also because it was too scary to share your state of complete nudity with each other.
Yoongi claims the spot between your legs, breathing heavily for his heart was almost giving up on him in excitement. While he never read about the intimacies between a man and a woman let alone talked to somebody about it, his mind still spent many hours imagining how it must feel like. And while a few weeks ago he never imagined to experience it with his princess, that image had changed ever since he snuck one fateful glance at your bared body as you bathed in the river.
Your eyes meet in a hesitant gaze.
“Are you just as excited as I am?” you ask him.
He nods his head.
“It will feel really good, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Come closer and breach me, Sire”, you stress, grasping his hips and rolling your own up to meet his middle.
He shivers at the sensation, bucking his hips forwards.
He stops, eyes widening in surprise. He slipped inside, only an inch, yet it is enough to make his back tense and his legs shake.
“More”, you sigh, forcing him deeper by wrapping your legs around him.
Yoongi grunts and buries his face in the crook of your neck. This is better than he imagined it to feel. This is so much better.
“It burns a little. Does it burn for you too?” you ask him slightly out of breath.
He shakes his head.
“How peculiar, it feels so peculiar.”
Yoongi is fighting with his air. He truly didn’t think it would feel so good.
“Try to move”, you order him.
He moves his hips back and forth, forcing a loud moan to slip past his lips. He falters and stops, face feeling as if it was on fire.
“I apologize”, he whispers.
Oh your stomach is clenching so much. You have never heard him make a sound before. Yoongi can take every beating and torture life throws at him without making a sound and yet when he is buried inside of you, lost in pleasure, he can’t stay quiet. It is so exhilarating to experience.
“No, don't apologize. Hearing your sound made me wetter. Do it again Sire”, you encourage him. You run your fingers to his bottom and squeeze it gently, “move inside of me and make a sound, it feels so good when you do.”
Yoongi rolls his hips into yours smoothly and moans. You arch your back and wrap your arms around him.
“Yes, oh that feels so good”, you sigh and reward him with a clench of your walls.
He continues his slow movements, pausing in between to catch his breath. His stomach is tensing in such peculiar ways and while it tempted him to keep moving to see where this tension would lead him, he was scared that if he did he would reach places where there is no coming back from. So he pauses in between to leave sloppy kisses on your neck and gain back control of his body.
“Yes that feels really good, oh Sire this is so nice”, you praise him in soft moans, running your fingers through his long hair. It tickles your shoulders and parts of your face and short strands of it were sticking to his forehead as it became terribly hot under the fur. And while you felt pearls of sweat run down your own chest, you still hugged him closer with your other arm, making him lower himself until your breasts were brushing against his chest.
The new closeness makes his lower stomach rub against your core. It sends the most peculiar yet magical sensation through your veins. Warmth. Such incredible warmth.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, curling your toes and pressing your heels into the back of his thighs.
“Yes, Your Highness?” he asks, panting heavily afterwards.
“This feels better than good”, you confess and squeak softly. Your fingers twitch on his back until your nails are digging into his skin.
He grunts and sucks on your neck desperately. He rolls his hips into you, feeling you grind against him. You are so wet around him and so warm too. And oh so tight, he didn’t know that he could be squeezed that much.
You pull him closer, burying your fingers in his hair. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, your legs shaking uncontrollably.
“Oh my s-stomach is tensing”, you pause to gasp for air, “Sire, Sire I’m close.”
“Me too Your Highness”, he answers you and moans against the shell of your ear. It sends shivers all the way down to your toes. The shivers lingered in your middle for a while, making you squeeze around him.
Yoongi grunts and reaches for your hand. He presses it into the fur and squeezes it tightly.
“Don’t tense that much”, he chokes out, grinding his teeth.
“I, I can’t help – “, a gasp for air, “– help it.”
You squeeze his hand, Yoongi answers you by squeezing it as well. So tightly in fact that you fear he might break something.
“Your Highness, please relax”, he begs desperately.
“I…can’t…it’s…so…good”, you sigh and let your mouth fall open. A moan ripples through you then you grow silent as the tension on your stomach breaks in a second, leaving you to tremble and burn like you had never done before.
Yoongi grunts painfully and falters, hiding his face in your shoulder. You are squeezing him too much, he is too sensitive.
“Your Highness”, he chokes out shakily, feeling his mind become blank and his vision turn black as his body releases all the tension in a series of uncontrollable spasms.
You take his release with your eyes rolled back and your eyelids fluttering, basking in the sensations. So that is how it feels like when a man desires your body so much that an orgasm shakes him. It feels so exhilarating that a single tear of bliss escapes the corner of your eye and runs down your cheek.
Yoongi whimpers and shakes one last time, forcing a trembling breath past his lips. The pressure on your hand stops as he finally relaxes, a pressure on your chest replaces it as he collapses on top of you.
You close your eyes and relax under the weight of his body. You feel so warm again. After weeks and weeks of painful cold, you finally feel truly warm again.
“This was magical”, you whisper.
“Yes”, he agrees and nuzzles his nose against your neck.
“You don’t regret it, do you?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Please Yoongi, call me by my name.”
Yoongi lifts his head. He cups your cheek.
“___, it feels strange to say out loud”, he whispers and smiles, showing you the shape of his teeth for the first time ever since you knew him.
synopsis: there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, former friend - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?
Easy. You forget about it.
pairing: jimin x reader
genre: college au | friends to enemies to lovers | angst, smut, fluff
warnings: none for teaser, to be updated for full fic
word count (for teaser): 205
release date: 30.10.2021
a/n: AHHHH hello again people!! I’m sorry i just vanished lmao but tumblr has been a real pain by not letting me post this :/ this is part of the college enemies 101 collab hosted by @btshoneyhive (the fics there are just wow,, do take a look!) and the ABSOLUTE BEAUTY OF A BANNER was made by @jaeism,, thank you so much 🥺💞 not much more to say rn but I hope tumblr doesn't mess this up ugh.
“Will you just fucking shut up?” You groaned.
Jimin stared at you from the corner - the dorm room that belonged to him, currently a mess filled with all sorts of clothes thrown around. You sat on his bed, clutching the edge of the sheets like you wanted to tear it up and burn it to ashes, with a line of tears drying on your cheek.
"Look," he began, sitting next to you on the bed, "if you want, we can pretend it never happened." He felt his heart splinter at an edge as he said that; warm pain bustling around in a little corner. He hastily turned his face to the floor, blinking away his tears - the last person who needed to know about his feelings was you. You hated each other. Thats how it was meant to be. Two splinters together made a fire he didn't want to burn in. And yet, here you were.
“We can - no, we will pretend it never happened.” He spoke with his hands mere inches away from yours, a forced tone of clarity that made the already cold room even more frozen.
Your hands were reaching out to the last of your clothes, ignoring the boy behind you. “It doesn’t matter,” you hissed out, picking up the bomber jacket from the floor.
“It’s not like there was anything worth remembering anyways.”
If you are interested,, please comment, ask or reblog to be added to the taglist!! thank you for your time 😊 love, hazel 💞
World Info: There are eight types of Love originated from Ancient Greece. In the Realm of Love, these types have been turned into seven Gods and one Goddess. — Agape (universal): OC (Name: Belle) | Pragma (everlasting): Jungkook | Storge (familial): Yoongi | Mania (obsession): Seokjin | Philia (platonic): Namjoon | Eros (sexual passion): Taehyung | Philautia (self-love): Hoseok | Ludus (playful): Jimin
Plot: Agape is a well-loved Goddess in the Realm of Love. Anyone who wins her approval will become the most powerful entity in the land, standing side by side as a co-symbol of eternal Love. Unfortunately with knowledge of this power, Gods and Nymphs are prone to obsession and cunning. So Agapes’ de facto brother, Storge organises a tournament in her honour. Only the winner will become Agapes’ partner.
Pairing(s): God!Jungkook x Goddess!OC (Name: Belle) ft. God!Seokjin
Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+
Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series
Word Count: 2.8k
Genre: Gods & Goddesses | Fantasy | Romance
Tags & Warnings: betrayal, implications of smut, mentions of maidenhead (virginity being lost)
Authors Note: sorry for the long wait, peeps, hope you enjoy!
The Love Realm rejoiced with Pragmas’ victory. Silk tapestries gleamed in the holy gold sun, Nymphs dressed in their most valuable cloth, music thrummed in the air and the scents of wine lingered in every crevice of the Cherry Palace.
Yoongi and Kiku sent Belle and Jungkook off as they stood inside the grand hall.
“Congratulations, Pragma for winning my sisters’ hand.” Yoongi shook Jungkooks’ hand.
“Thank you, Storge.” Jungkook kept a faint smirk though his eyes weren’t quite shining like Belle remembered. Maybe it was just exhaustion from the events of the competition.
“We have a carriage made for you to make way to your private palace.” Kiku said. There was a small, pink flower dancing on her shoulder to indicate the slow arrival of spring.
“Keep her safe.” Yoongi spoke in a lower tone, smiling sadly.
Belle couldn’t help but feel a thickness in her throat. She knew Yoongi and Kiku longer than anyone in the world. From the moment, she was birthed from the fertile earth of the Love Realm, they were present to take care of her. Pushing away all manner of control, Belle rushed forward and hugged Yoongi tight.
Yoongi chuckled but still rubbed her back up and down. “Be happy.”
“Thank you.” Belle pulled away from the hug, grinning and her eyes shining.
As Belle backed away, she felt Jungkook hold onto her hand. Her heart began to flutter.
Outside in the bright happy day, Nymphs cheered louder than Belle had ever heard it. Flower petals thrown on their heads, blessings sounded and music grew rowdy. Belles’ pink dress glowed like pink diamonds and her veil flowed in the wind, a few flower petals from her own crown fell to the crème pavement.
The carriage was a picture of nature; deep emerald backdrops, roses, marigolds, jasmines, tulips and wisterias etched onto the sides. Some vines were still dancing from Kikus’ magic, welcoming them into its embrace.
Belle climbed into the carriage first and Jungkook followed after. Then the sounds of the Nymphs muffled when the door closed. She could breathe deeply for a moment.
Throughout the ride however Jungkook maintained his silence. Even past the Blossom Mountains where the peach and cherry blossoms were alive forever, he didn’t say a word nor try to comment on it. Belle began to get worried. “Is it too anti-climactic for you?” She finally asked as the mountains faded out of their view.
Jungkooks’ eyes widened as he faced her. “No.” He chuckled. He held onto her hand, squeezing it gently. “All this happened quicker than I imagined. I just need a few moments to breathe.”
Belle smiled. “Take the time you need.” She looked back out at the view of the emerald plains where the sun dipped low like aged gold. The lulling bumps and soft movements of the carriage eventually pulled her to a light sleep.
When she awoke, the carriage was nearing a stop at a white stone courtyard. Belle looked over at Jungkook who had his head lowered and his knuckles paled from how tightly curled his fingers. As if something nudged him back from his trance, he looked over at her and gave another smile. Holding onto her hand, taking her out of the carriage, Jungkook escorted Belle to the red entrance door.
Guards in iron armor guided them to the grand hall of white walls and red floors like blood pooling at their feet. She saw the throne of obsidian at the far end of the hall. Seokjin sat on the throne, thrumming his long fingers. His sullen face looked near dead in this pale golden light.
Belle was confused. “What’re we doing here?” She whispered the question to Jungkook but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at her. His hand still gripped on hers as they walked closer to a smiling Seokjin.
“I’m so happy you both could make it in such a short time.” Seokjin grinned. “You’ve done well, Pragma.”
Jungkooks’ jaw tightened just as harsh as his grip. “You promised to keep her safe.”
“It’d be counterproductive to bring her in harms’ way.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Belle pulled away from Jungkooks’ death hold, her palm kept beating and aching.
“Pragma and I had a bit of a deal during the tournament.” Poison laced in his grin. “See there’s a small fine print where I’m allowed to do what I wish in the tournament seeing as I created it for Yoongi.” He pinched his index finger and thumb together. “Too bad he didn’t think ahead. That was always my job.”
Belle froze, feeling her entire body go cold and rigid. “You two set this up?”
“At least you catch on quickly.” Seokjin laughed. It echoed against the white walls, taunting her naivety as she stood alone and without support.
Jungkook looked over at her, those dull eyes now making painful sense. “I’m sorry.”
Belle backed away, tears forming in her eyes and the blood in her body chilling. Though Seokjin had no plan for letting her escape from here. His guards began closing on behind her, some of their hands holding onto the hilts of their swords just in case she moved too fast.
“Sorry but you can’t leave.” Seokjin rested back on her throne like he was already Ruler of the Realm. “These are the rules of the tournament.”
Being in the Cherry Palace gave Belle her protection. This was Seokjins’ territory. There was no telling what Mania could do with all his loopholes and trickery. If she was going to survive another day, she would need an approach other than breaking down and crying. Which she sorely wanted to do.
Belles’ chest rose and fell. She immediately sturdied herself and intertwined her fingers. “Yoongi trusted you. That’s why he invited you to the tournament.” There was hardly any strength left for her to stop shaking. “I won’t fight against this betrayal but you will get what’s coming to you.”
The corner of Seokjins’ lip twitched. “Let’s get you escorted into your chambers.” Even though he tried to hide it, Agapes’ declaration tugged at Manias’ nerves. There was an air of bad omen looming over this trickery that all of the Gods could feel, like an unwelcomed chill breeze to an already cold day.
Belle was escorted to her new chambers which was rout with flowers, red velvet bedding and the smell of pomegranates in the air. Angel dressed her in a comfortable, crème dress. There was no red dress for her today. Not until Seokjin consummated their bond. “This was my fate to begin with, wasn’t it?” she asked.
Angel gave her an apologetic look. “Gods can be—wicked beings sometimes, my lady.” In a way, Belle appreciated the honesty. Any other Nymph would’ve taken the Gods’ side, telling her that it was the nature of Gods and should be tolerated. “You don’t deserve a fate like this.”
Belle smiled. “I’m a God too, remember? Maybe I was wicked in a past form.”
“You still don’t deserve it,” Angel insisted. “I’m sure when Master Storge finds out about this, he’ll be here as soon as possible.”
Belle didn’t reply to this. The last time Storge and Mania disagreed on something, it nearly rolled down to the brink of a divine war. A part of her was almost willing to lay with Seokjin than be the subject of a bloody event.
Jungkook watched the sun barely peeking through the mountains at this time of day. The warm, topaz light kissed his skin as he drank generous sips of thickened wine. It had more of a berry taste than the sweet ones in the Cherry Palace but it helped numbed some of the twisting guilt in his stomach.
His only company was Philautia, the god of self-love. Colloquially known as Hoseok.
Hoseok was busy looking at the mirror, caressing the sharpness of his jawline. “This new peach oil is doing wonders,” he spoke dreamily. “Maybe I’ll get the passionfruit scent too to match my purple tunic.”
Jungkook wasn’t listening fully but Hoseok didn’t really care whether anyone listened. He liked being in others company to speak about himself.
He moved his fingers back to his long lashes. “There’s this substance that darkens lashes but I don’t want to obscure my vision. Maybe I’ll try a little bit.”
Jungkook took another deep sip. The sun immediately disappeared, leaving only glows of yellow against the darkening sky and spots in his eyes.
Hoseok huffed. “Fine! Do you want to talk about it?”
Jungkook looked at him then, confused. “What’d I do?”
“You’ve been moping at that window for an hour.” Hoseok jumped to his feet and stomped closer to the window. His skin was truly glowing more than the sun itself and his lips, plush and bruised pink like a thousand kisses had been placed upon them. “Clearly, you need someone to talk to.” He folded his arms over his chest. “This trickery deal with Mania is bothering you, yes?”
“Is it not bothering you?”
Hoseok shrugged. “I don’t like it but—can’t spend too much time stressing over it. Moping causes wrinkles.” He touched his temples and at the corners of his eyes, feather-light and loving. “You ought to remember that, you still have some admirers.”
Jungkook sighed and looked back out the window. A singular star began to twinkle against the dark blue sky while the excited conversations between Nymphs began echoing in the air. Soon, there will be scents of the night market and loud, drunken laughter.
“Look, this will only be a big problem if you have some personal feelings towards Agape.” Hoseok tilted his head. “Do you?”
“I don’t know how to be sure.”
Hoseok hummed and then placed a delicate pat on his shoulder. “Just go see her and try.”
“Don’t worry too much about trying to fulfill any wifely duties,” Seokjin said. “We will have one night of consummation and then you’ll be free to do what you wish. Just don’t leave the palace, of course.
Belle hummed as she sat at the table of her new chambers. Seokjin poisoned the warmth of it with his presence, bringing in the scent of rotten incense and curses.
“How’re you planning on telling the people about your little plan?” She didn’t face him. Merely played with the pearling details of her dress sleeves. They were fresh and gifted by Water Nymphs, blessing her for a joyous marriage. If only they knew the world of Gods was not quite as lucky.
“They’ll understand my reasons.” Seokjin didn’t sound all too convinced by himself.
“Meaning you’ll force them.”
His lips pursed into a thin line as her words cut through him. “That’s my issue, not yours.”
Good, she thought. He’s frightened. Belle found comfort in that tight tone as she smiled bitterly. “I hope that mindset ages better than you.”
Seokjin raised his chin with that same thin line on his pallid face and walked out of the room.
Jungkook walked into Belles’ room with heavy determination. Hoseoks’ words looming in his mind were the only ones keeping him from running back away. His heart pounded against his ribcages when he saw her immediately. He had hoped she wasn’t in the room or behind a changing screen or asleep. But she was here.
She was wearing a translucent pink dress and laying on a lounge chair; her beautiful, glossed eyes staring right into his soul. The goddess waved her glass. “What do you want?”
Jungkook took a deep breath. He had faced giants, monsters and demon leaders from the Underworld but this terrified him. The fury of a goddess who’d been betrayed wasn’t one to take lightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think the deal through, this pact was made so long before we met.”
“Now that we’ve met, you’re growing a conscience.” Belles’ chest swelled and cheeks flushed either from the wine or anger. Or both.
“Mania is a powerful god, Agape.” Jungkook walked closer until she could smell the pomegranate oils on her skin. “I couldn’t just deny him especially during a vulnerable time.”
She shook her head. “If you’re so confident about your reasons, why do you feel the need to explain yourself?”
Jungkook stammered, feeling stupider than he did before walking into the room. “I don’t know.” He gulped. “I supposed I still want to be a good person in your eyes.”
“That’s optimistic. I’ll give you that.” Belle smiled but it was nothing compared to the smiles she gave him before. Back when she placed faith in him. “I believe I do have to thank you, Pragma.”
“It seems to me that I’m not deserving of eternal love. Rather I’m to be a symbol of something that I’ll never receive.” Belle took a generous sip of wine, shifting her body until her dress rode up to show the blushed scar on her leg. The same scar that bore a painful history. One Belle trusted him enough to share.
“Yoongi is the god of brotherly love yet has no blood siblings, Taehyung is the god of sexual passion yet he’s never spoken about ever feeling pleasure in his escapades, Hoseok is the god of self-love and he does nothing but take care of himself to a point where he’s never loved anything else.” She sat up then, her flowing dress gracefully covering the scar again. “We contradict and exaggerate our ideals. It’s our way. So the goddess of eternal love will now be tied down in a loveless marriage made through trickery.” Belle smiled sadly. “This is my fate.”
Jungkooks’ brows furrowed; his racing heart now clenched and twisted. There wasn’t a sign of disbelief in her eyes. She had faith in everything she said. “Don’t say things like that.”
“I can say whatever I want, Pragma. Get the hell out of my chambers.” Belle looked out the window. A thick layer of gloss formed on her eyes as she took another sip of her wine.
His lungs knocked out of all his breath and his stomach wrenched. He wanted Belle to be happy yet she didn’t want him anywhere near her. As he walked out of the chambers with a heavy legs and pained head, he knew with a surety. There were feelings. And Jungkook was horrified of what to do with them now.
At nightfall, Angel sent away the empty dishes of food for the Goddess’ meal and carried her clothes to wash while she slept. The Goddess also asked for extra night clothes and an extra bath. She’d never ask for them before but Angel abided anyway. She really wanted to comfort the Goddess instead since she had never been so distant before. But there was work to be done.
After washing the clothes, preparing the bath and grabbing some clean night clothing, Angel made her way towards the Goddess’ chambers. Then a sound through the door stopped her. Light thrashing sounds of sheets and bed creaking. She wanted to burst through until she heard moaning and grunting. The consummation between Mania and Agape wouldn’t be until tomorrow night.
Angel felt her cheeks burn hearing the Goddess encourage whoever was on the other side of the door. It was mutual. She stepped back from the door and stood at the corner quietly, fingers clutching the night clothes tightly.
The sounds of climax and heavy breathing finally arrived.
Angel waited for a few moments, taking deep breaths before knocking on the door. “My lady?” Her voice was so meek she wasn’t sure if the Goddess could hear.
“Yes, come in.” Her muffled voice spoke.
When Angel entered the room, she saw the Goddess’ clothes thrown across the floors. A handsome, young guard was dressing back up in his armor. His warm skin still glowing and his dark hair still matted to his forehead from their previous activities. He smiled like a kind saint, unperturbed by what he was just involved in.
Belle still lay in bed, naked, cheeks flushed and her hair in disarray. There were love bruises on her neck and swells of her breasts.
The guard bowed to the Goddess and walked out of the room.
“Don’t be frightened, Angel.” Belle smiled. “I brought him in here and asked him to. If Mania thinks he’s going to consummate with me while I’m pure then he’s sorely mistaken.”
Angel then understood a little more. She walked closer and peeled the blankets off her. Remnants of her maidenhead were slick between her thighs. Angel gently cleaned her, took off the bedding and brought her to the prepared bath. The Goddess didn’t speak much in the entire duration of this but Angel preferred it that way to absorb the situation.
Then once the Goddess was asleep in fresh sheets and new clothes, Angel found herself in a mix of worry and admiration.
The Goddess took control of the one thing that was hers right now. That Angel admired. Yet she also worried for the Goddess. It might be the one and final thing she’ll ever have control over.
summary: Park Jimin is a fuckboy through and through. It’s a well-known fact. His friends know it, the men and women he hooks up with know it, and people who’ve only heard whisperings of his name know it. But what if there’s more than meets the eye? What if that’s only a small part of him? What if…in your endeavor to find out more, you find out more than you bargained for?
pairing: jimin x f!reader
genre: social media au, romance, comedy
chapter word count: 2.4k~
chapter warning: familial death (not related to the main character) and mentions of infidelity
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series tag list (closed): @chimchimin-ssi @nabiwrites @renhold-nightspear @moon-write @90s-belladonna @youurkryptonite
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You throw yourself onto the couch with a heavy sigh, the tension in your shoulders enough to make it feel like the weight of the world rests on them. It’s been a long day of dealing with phone calls at work, call after call ending the same — with you being yelled at for things that weren’t even your fault.
Most days, you can shrug it off. Most days, you can let it drift in one ear and right out the other, can let the pent up emotions of the person on the other end drop dead before they reach your ear. Today is not one of those days.
You groan, annoyed with the emotions that keep nagging and raging within you, and drag a couch pillow into your arms. You squeeze it to your chest and bury your face in it, willing the thoughts and memories — words incessantly playing on repeat — away.
Your phone vibrates against your hip and you cringe. The last thing you want to do right now is talk on the phone, even through text, so you intend to ignore it, but when it continues to vibrate, you frown. Who would be calling you right now?
Knowing both Lisa and Minji to be at work, your heart drops when you see Lisa’s name flash across your screen. You rush to answer. “Lisa?”
The first thing you’re aware of when you bring the phone to your ear is a sharp intake of breath. The second thing is your heart sinking in your chest. The sniffling on the other side of the phone makes you feel sick to your stomach.
“Lisa, what’s wrong?”
“Halmeoni,” she whimpers, and it’s like the rest of your world falls away from you.
“Oh Lisa,” you frown, already reaching for your keys on the coffee table. “Where are you? Is anyone with you?”
She sobs into the phone. “I’m at work. Angel, my grandmother—“
“I know,” you soothe, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. The last thing she needs is to hear you cry along with her. “Sit tight, okay? I’m on my way.”
She whimpers in response. “Okay, but Angel?”
You rush out of your apartment and lock the door behind you. “Yeah, Lis?”
“Please hurry,” she sucks in a trembling breath and your heart aches at the sound.
“I will, Lisa,” you promise, hanging up the phone.
As much as you would’ve liked to be with Lisa through the night, you drive her south to be with her family before beginning your long trek back home.
Before you left, she pulled you into a tight hug, muttering apologies for the things she said about Jimin.
You’d frowned and shook your head. “Don’t worry about that now, Lisa.” You squeezed her. “I already forgave you for it. Go be with your family.”
With teary eyes and loud sniffles, she’d pulled away with a nod, muttering “thank you”s she didn’t need to say.
Regardless of the things she says sometimes, you know her heart is in the right place. And you will always be there for her.
The drive back home is long and by the time you get back, you’re emotionally and physically drained. You didn’t spend much time with Lisa’s family, knowing it best for them to be together, but it was enough to add to the already heavy emotions of your day.
Even saying this, you would’ve gladly stayed if you’d been asked. If Lisa or her family needed you.
You roll your neck and shrug your shoulders in an attempt to loosen up as you make your way into your apartment building, footsteps stuttering when you see someone standing outside your door. You blink in surprise. “Jimin?”
He offers you a weak smile, immediately opening his arms when he sees you. “Minji told me about Lisa’s grandmother.”
You frown, eyeing him uncertainly. Not entirely in a position to turn down a hug, especially with your body begging to collapse into the comfort of his arms, you step forward. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly to his chest as he presses a kiss to your hair.
The act feels oddly reminiscent of the night of your date the week before, when he’d held you in his arms outside the concert venue. Right before he’d brought you to the Han River and held you some more.
It was in the middle of him holding you that night that you finally worked up the courage to ask the one thing that had been on your mind since you met him. Since you found out about his reputation.
“Can I ask you a question?” you asked quietly from your place next to him.
He glanced sideways at you, lifting up onto his elbow to get a better look. “You can ask me anything you want, Angel.”
The way he looked at you, so earnestly, had your body temperature rising -- something you noticed happened a lot around Jimin. You sighed. “Why don’t you like relationships?”
He observed you for a long moment in silence, eyes skating across your face as he thought over his answer. After a bit, his sigh echoed yours and he sank back down onto his back, staring up at the light-polluted sky. “It’s not that I don’t like relationships…”
You raised an eyebrow, turning your head to look at him properly. “Then why don’t you date?”
He hummed, the sound warm and considering. He peeked at you from the corner of his eye, half-hearted smile twitching his lips. “I’m dating you now, aren’t I?”
Your expression fell flat and he sighed again, sitting up to run a hand through his hair. You pushed yourself up beside him, hand itching to reach out for his, but knowing well enough to give him his distance. Clearly, this was a topic that bothered him.
But you wanted to know. If this was going to work between the two of you, you needed to know.
For his benefit and for yours.
“I don’t…” he began before pursing his lips. His eyebrows pulled together as he stared down at his hands. “I wasn’t always like this.”
You sat quietly, allowing him the time to gather his thoughts. Allowing him the space to decide what to tell you. Because you didn’t expect him to tell you his entire dating history. He didn’t owe any of that to you. You were willing to listen, of course, but he didn’t have to explain it to you. When you told him as much, his lips twitched up.
“Thank you, but I think I should,” he explained. “At least, the parts that are relevant.”
You nodded slowly, once again lapsing into silence.
He sighed. “The last relationship I was in lasted three years.”
You blinked, not having expected that. How had he gone from a long-term relationship to...this?
“It was serious--” he paused, shaking hair from his eyes. “Well, I was serious about it, at least.”
Your heart dropped a little, already able to tell where this was heading. “So, what happened?”
He scoffed, hands twisting together in his lap. “He cheated on me....and I forgave him.” He shook his head. “It sounds stupid now, but I was willing to let it go. I was willing to move on and pretend it never happened. I loved him...and I really didn’t want to imagine my life without him. I realize now how messed up that is, how toxic thinking like that is. Your happiness should never be sacrificed for someone else’s...at least, not for as long as mine was for him. But I was young and stupid, always looking the other way when he’d come home late or would get a weird text in the middle of the night.”
You couldn’t help it anymore, your hand moved to grasp his and his breath stuttered, gaze slowly moving to meet yours. You offered him a small, reassuring smile and he returned it.
“Anyway, I was pretty messed up after that…” he shrugged. “Commitment seemed like a bit of a joke to me after having someone promise to be exclusive, only to break that promise, so I didn’t bother to try. I didn’t want a relationship anyway, didn’t know if I could ever trust someone like that again.”
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, heart aching on his behalf. “And now?”
His gaze shyly moved between yours and your joined hands before smiling. “Now, I think I’m ready again.” He nodded. “I’m willing to try again with you.”
The two of you shared a small smile as you shuffled closer, allowing yourself to be pulled into his side as he wrapped his arms around you.
You never complained about the change of pace that night, more than thankful for the subdued turn your night had taken. More than thankful for the distance the two of you put between you and other people. The way you saw it, you desperately needed the time alone together. Needed to be able to exist, as you were, away from everyone else.
Tonight seems to be no different.
“You know Lisa’s grandmother isn’t my grandmother, right?” you mumble, a little confused how he would’ve thought to check up on you because of that.
He huffs a quiet chuckle, squeezing you a little tighter. “Minji might’ve also mentioned you had a rough day at work.”
You purse your lips and furrow your brow, not remembering telling her about that, but the more you think about it, you do recollect a lone text sent to her about wanting to quit your job and move to the mountains somewhere.
Yeah, you might’ve been feeling a bit dramatic at that point.
You still stand by the sentiment though. Some days you really do feel like you need a break from humanity.
Just not…all humans. You’d hate to admit it out loud to him, but you would miss Jimin a bit.
The realization startles you.
You clear your throat and pull away, motioning to your door. “Do you want to come in?”
You’re exhausted from such a long day, but the thought of turning away Jimin’s comfort feels even less desirable than the sleep that beckons you.
Under normal circumstances, you imagine Jimin would tease you about inviting him into your home, would probably flirt with you relentlessly until you’re a blushing mess. As it is though, he merely smiles and squeezes your arm.
“Sure,” he mutters, stepping away to let you unlock and open the door. “Have you eaten?”
You hope he doesn’t catch the frown on your face, but when you turn to toe off your shoes, you see the look of concern on his face. In all the chaos of your day, you hadn’t even given dinner a thought. But now that you are, you become painfully aware of the hunger gnawing away at your stomach.
Jimin clicks his tongue at your response, taking your purse from you and closing the door behind him. He shoos you further into the apartment as he sets your purse down and gets rid of his shoes. “Go wash up and change. I’ll order you something.”
You open your mouth to argue, but the severe look he shoots you has your jaw snapping shut. Instead, you nod and turn on your heel, glancing over your shoulder to watch him pull his phone from his pocket. You shake your head in wonder, disappearing into your bedroom and closing the door behind you.
If someone would’ve told you three weeks ago that Jimin would be in your apartment ordering you food, you probably would have laughed at them. You would’ve laughed and rolled your eyes at the mere thought of Jimin wanting to do anything more than hookup with you.
But over the past week he’s proven how serious he is about wanting something different. About wanting something more serious with you.
You’re not sure what makes you so special, exactly. You’re not sure what made him change his mind. But you’re glad he did.
When you walk out of your bedroom, freshly showered and in comfier clothes, the inviting smell of fried chicken drifts through the air and you nearly moan at the smell. Your eyes find Jimin as he sets a couple glasses of water on the coffee table and you grin.
“Ugh,” you groan, dropping onto the sofa. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
Jimin chuckles as you hastily reach for one of the takeout containers, eyes alight with amusement as he hands you a plate. “You have to remember to take care of yourself, even when taking care of others.”
Your chewing slows and you side-eye him, watching him watch the way you eat. You glance at the remaining containers before motioning to them. “Take your own advice, Park. Don’t make me eat alone.”
He rolls his eyes at the use of his last name, but can’t fight off his smile as he does as he’s told. He hums happily as he munches on a drumstick.
“So,” he sighs, settling back on your couch as if this isn’t his first time in your apartment. His ease would be unnerving if you, yourself, weren’t so comfortable with him here. “What happened at work?”
You release a long, quiet breath, shrugging him off. “Nothing important. Just a bad day.”
He observes you, gaze glued to the side of your face as you fight to remain straight-faced. He frowns. “Anything that makes you upset is important to me.”
Your breath trips, heart stuttering to a slow hault, and you shift under his gaze. You shake your head, a little dazed by the complete one-eighty he’s taken in just a few weeks. Then again, you hadn’t really given him a chance before. Was he always this warm-hearted and kind?
Your gaze remains on the takeout for a moment, all at once touched by this whole thing. After such a long and mentally trying day, you’re overwhelmed by his kindness.
By the sheer force of someone caring about you enough to take care of you when you’re struggling to do it yourself.
You wipe your fingers on a napkin and shrug. “Today was just one of those days where everyone seemed to have a complaint. It sort of felt like a constant stream of yelling.”
He frowns, hand coming to rest over your arm. “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve that.”
You shrug. “People always forget there’s a person on the other end of the phone, but it’s sort of part of the job? It’s expected at this point.”
Jimin tsks, fingers enclosing your wrist to pull you over to him. He wraps his arms around you and you marvel at the way he just seems to know this is exactly what you need right now. “It shouldn’t have to be expected.”
You hum, wholeheartedly agreeing, and you settle in against him. With your stomach no longer empty, you feel your exhaustion tugging at you, pulling you in closer to Jimin’s side. You rest your head on his shoulder and stifle a yawn. “People suck.”
He hums, running a soothing hand over your arm. “Sleep if you’re tired, Angel. I’ve got you.”
You let out a contented sigh, curling up against him and draping an arm over his stomach. “You won’t leave?”
A breathy chuckle tickles your forehead and he shakes his head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
Sleepy smile twitching at your lips, you press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Stay.”
He lets out a stuttering breath and holds you a little tighter. “As long as you’ll let me.”
Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together | KTH Ch. 8
Pairing: Kim Taehyung | Original Female Character
Genre: romance, fantasy, action, forbidden love, human KTH | angel of death OC, supernatural au
Word Count: 9.7k [series, ongoing]
Warnings: A few swear words, Jungkook acting like a jerk [but it’s because he’s protective of his hyung], mentions of blood
Summary: After admiring a handsome boy from afar, an Angel of Death reluctantly rescues him from his own demise. As a result of going against her better judgment she inadvertently invites him into her world.
Author’s note: Again I’m sorry my update took so long again. I had a midterm, had to work, and I also dealt with some neck pain from sleeping on it wrong (invest in good pillows guys). This also took me longer to edit because not only did I write more, but I experienced some writer’s block, so I needed a break as well. I also wanted to take my time editing my writing so it didn’t sound like complete crap. Welp, that’s pretty much it. Just for future reference I won’t always be able to update once a week because I have a lot going right now. So don’t worry if I don’t update frequently. I try to shoot for updating on Fridays but since I’m posting this on Saturday, I’ll probably just shoot for the weekends. Also I wanted to shout out and thank @ggukkieland for reblogging my last post. I really appreciate it 💜💜💜. Hope everyone has a pleasant weekend. Until next time I bid you adieu 🤗.
Together We Are Apart but Apart We Are Together
Chapter 8. Return Home
“What if, you and I were meant to part ways, only so that we could find each other again.”
Malachi gave me a pointed look. “Hot chocolate. Hot chocolate is going to get him to leave Mistress.” He was dubious in his delivery.
“Well we can’t just return him home by leaving my cottage in the middle of the forest miles away from the city. We’ll look like some backwoods inbreds looking to peel his skin off and wear it.”
“Is that not two different movies?” Malachi questioned factiously to no doubt be an ass.
“That’s not the point.” I brought my fingers to my forehead to rub my temples. “We need to take precautionary measures and teleport him back to the bolt hole apartment in the city, then return him home.”
“And why can we not just teleport him directly home and wipe his memory and call it a day?”
“Because he may live with family, friends, or a-,” I hesitated before swallowing, “a girlfriend … or boyfriend.” I said disheartened. “Although he did think we ..uh, copulated last night.” I added as an afterthought.
“You’re forgetting humans can be unfaithful in their pursuits,” Malachi advised. “He also may already be married or have children.” He added as if he wanted to pour copious amounts of salt on my wounded heart. I looked at him annoyed. Malachi gave a mischievous smile while attempting to make the rest of him look as innocent as possible.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, we can’t just drop him off on his doorstep unconscious with no recollection of last night. That would surely raise lots of questions or worse it’ll lead to some sort of an investigation. If we return him conscious then it will look less suspicious because whoever he lives with is probably aware of his absence and is worried. I can briefly explain what happened and then wipe both of their memories from them. Plus it makes me feel like less of a criminal for breaking in, tip-toeing around, and whispering incantations into people’s ears who are asleep like some ghost in the night.”
“Suddenly you choose to follow morals now?” Malachi asked with skepticism, but I could hear the tease in his tone of voice.
“Oh, hush Malachi,” I bit back a his snarky comment. “Just recite the incantation.”
Malachi rolled his eyes before leaning down to bend his upper body over the cup. Closing his eyes and focusing his energy, he whispered the lengthy spell straight into the liquid of the hot chocolate.
“My voice lulls you to sleep Allow the darkness of your mind to seep Through the crevices of your conscious mind And into the unconfined Depths of your plentiful dreams. There you will find what seems Like the edges of both what is real And what is surreal Begin to blur. When this occurs, Do not resist, surrender.
I desperately urge you to remember
What it is you so dearly desire And mold it into something you can truly acquire. Find peace within this thought And do not be distraught When you feel as though You are too slow To rise awake. Do not shake With irrational fear Knowing that you now reside here.
Darkness may cloud your vision
But if you just envision
Looking past the mist,
You will bear witness to what exists.
And once the veil is lifted,
Misjudged shadows will have shifted
Shrinking away to eventually lead
To the glimpses of light that bleed
Through the cracks. Welcome the luminosity as it wraps
Around you, bathe in the warmth
As you push forth
On your path.
Know that the darkness holds no wrath
It is only there to shield
From the Misfortunes that yield
Chaos and corruption,
That pave way to destruction.
Instead willingly allow the shadows to consume you
While their energy flows through,
Sink your way down
As if to drown.
Remember, wield the light as your sword
Until you are restored To a more conscious state. But until then, this is your fate.”
As his voice rang out sounding like church bells on a crisp morning, the air in the room seemed to shift. It was as though there was a light breeze that had blew around the room. I could feel the hair on my arms rise as an electric current seemed to surge. The drink began to bubble furiously causing the melted marshmallows and chocolate to drip down the edge as a shadowy mist began to emanate from the tips of his fingers. Once Malachi was finished, the room felt calm once again and the drink no longer gurgled but was frothed instead.
“Here,” he slid the cup containing the hot chocolate turned elixir towards me. “Make sure he drinks all of it or the intention will not be set.” I nodded to convey my understanding. “Also would you make sure he changes back into his own clothes before he drinks this, because it should take effect rather quickly and I would like to have my clothing back without having to change him like a newborn child. Plus if he happened to spill that drink, the stains may make it unsalvageable. And those articles are hard to come by in that particular cut, color, and fabric.”
“Yeah, sure thing Mr. fashionista.” I sarcastically quipped gripping the tepid cup handle. Malachi only narrowed his eyes at me in return.
Before returning to Taehyung’s side, I went to retrieve his clothing from in front of the fireplace. All the garments were a bit wrinkled but fully dry none the less. Folding them neatly over my forearm I walked back to my room.
“I brought your hot chocolate,” I announced from the doorway. “By the way Malachi says he’s sorry.” I lied.
“I did not.” I heard Malachi telepathically respond from somewhere else in the house.
“He went to tend to the garden.”
“I am also not doing that.” In the background I could hear him purposely rustling the pages of a book. The distinctive sound of the crisp paper rubbing against the pads of his fingertips echoed in my head. He must have been currently reading in his library.
“Oh, really. Thank you and uh, I guess let him know it’s fine.”
“I do not care.”
Ignoring Malachi’s sour mood, I only shook my head at his unpleasant reply. “Okay. Uh, before you drink that though, could you please change back into your clothes. Malachi just doesn’t want you to potentially ruin his. He thinks the stains would be difficult to remove if you happened to spill any chocolate in them. His words not mine.”
“Finally,” Malachi dramatically emphasized the pronunciation of the word, “you are saying something I can actually agree with.”
Annoyed, I called out Malachi for his nosiness. “Would you go back to reading your book and stop eavesdropping on our conversation.”
“Hey, I am not prying. You are the one carelessly broadcasting your thoughts. Do not think I just did not hear you contemplate how the huma-, er Taehyung’s, hands are so big and if they would cover the expanse of your thig-,”
“Malachi! Don’t you dare finish that thought.” I hastily cut him off. I could hear him snickering to himself at my reaction.
“Uh, are you okay?” Taehyung questioned concerned, his voice ripped me out of my thoughts or rather the ones I was hearing from Malachi.
“Yeah…I, uh, was trying to remember if I, uh, turned the stove off.”
“Huh, what?” I was still distracted by Malachi telling me how I needed to learn how to lie better. “Oh yeah, let me go check while you change.” I went to leave the room.
“Wait! Aren’t you forgetting something.” Taehyung hurriedly said. I was confused, Taehyung looked down towards my hands. I was still holding his clothes.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mortified by my flightiness, I walked back over to his side and handed them to him. He only smirked at my flustered state. “I, uh, washed them and then dried them by the fireplace last night. They’re a bit wrinkled from air drying them but otherwise they should be fine to wear.” I added blushing.
“That’s fine. I appreciate it. Thank you.” He sounded genuine.
Stepping out of the room so he could change, I quickly turned around and left closing the door behind me. Through the door the sound of the bed creaking was able to carry, followed by the rustling of fabric and the brief sharp hiss of a zipper. The memory of how he looked last night in the firelight came to mind as I imagined him changing. I felt my face grow hot.
“You are hopeless.” Malachi taunted, although it sounded more like he was poking fun at me rather than making a serious insult.
“I’m done.” Taehyung announced a few minutes later, his voice muffled from the sound of it traveling through the wood of the door.
Coming back into the room, Taehyung was dressed in the same pants he was the night prior as he was seated back on the bed, this time on the edge of it. Noticing he was still wearing Malachi’s shirt I was confused.
“I made your bed for you.” Taehyung declared guiding my attention to the covers that had been neatly tucked back into place.
“Oh, thank you.”
“But, I, uh, need help changing my shirt. It hurts.” He limply raised his arm to emphasize his point.
“Yeah, sure.” My voice cracked as I sat down next to him. Knowing I was now going to see him shirtless while he was conscious suddenly made me extremely nervous. But taking a second to collect myself, I attempted to make my voice sound more confident. I reached towards him and directed him to first pull his good arm through the shirt hole. Then after lifting the shirt over his head to reveal his bare torso, I hastily willed myself to focus on the task at hand. Gently I guided the fabric down his hurt arm to reduce whatever pain he was experiencing. Taehyung now sat completely shirtless in front of me. I expected him to be blushing and unwilling to make eye contact, but that wasn’t the case. Instead he stared intently into my eyes trying to gauge my reaction to him. I couldn’t help but eye the expanse of his chest, noticing the few red angry scratches and blooming blue bruises that decorated his body.
“Don’t they hurt?” I asked my inner thought aloud looking up at him.
“I’m fine.” He gently whispered reassuring me. His pupils were so blown they barely looked brown anymore.
Tearing my eyes away from his, I reached for his shirt. Again I helped guide each of his arms through the sleeves, taking extra care of his injured one before I went to button his shirt. My hands shook slightly whenever they accidentally brushed over his warm skin. I could feel him continue to eye me curiously amused by my flustered state. His breath fanned over my face as he quietly chuckled. While he hadn’t yet brushed his teeth, his breath still smelled sweet like the fruit he had eaten earlier. Somehow by some shear miracle I managed to fasten the last button before I looked up at him again to meet his gaze.
“All done.” My voice unintentionally sounded breathier. I was somewhat taken aback by its tone.
“Thank you.” He offered me a boxy grin.
Awkwardly directing my eye-line towards the nightstand, I remembered the hot beverage sitting a top it. “Well, your hot chocolate should have cooled off enough by now.”
“Oh, yeah. I can smell it from here. It smells delicious by the way. Uh,” Taehyung paused to look around, “should I drink it sitting on the bed or…”
“You can sit on the bed. It’s fine.”
“Are you sure. What if I spill it?” Taehyung was unconvinced by my carefree reaction.
“It’s okay.” I reassured. “The blankets can be washed if anything happens.” I knew it would be best if he drank the drink sitting in the bed. He would surely pass out soon after drinking it, but I wasn’t sure how soon. So the safest bet was to have him just be already in the bed. It would be too difficult to try to move him when he was unconscious and I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable if he fell asleep in an unusual upright position.
“Okay.” He took his first sip, still cautious of the temperature. He was given an unintentional mustache from emerging his top lip in the rim of the drink. While he didn’t say anything in terms of a reaction, his eyes suddenly lit up at what I assumed was the taste of the silky chocolate. “Mmm.” Cherishing the flavor at first, he slowly sipped the liquid before he hastily chugged the remainder down. His Adam’s apple bobbed in sequence as he swallowed with large audible gulps. A small exhale of air immediately followed by a burp and hiccup caused his cheeks to redden from his questionable manners, rather than the after effects of the warmth provided from guzzling down the hot chocolate. “Sorry.” Taehyung lowered his head sheepishly and looked up at me from under his eyelashes.
“I’ll take it that it was good then?” I laughed the query.
“Good? It was amazing!” He declared excitedly like a child. He licked the frothy mustache away from his upper lip.
Then almost instantly it was as though his state of awareness had shifted. His uneven eyelids began to droop and his facial features relaxed. Succumbing to the blissful state, he unwittingly announced, “It’s funny, I feel so tired now.” His voice sounded hoarse and had an evident rasp to it.
“That’s fine, go back to sleep for a little while if you want Tae.” I encouraged softly.
“Hmm. Okay.” He nodded lazily before completely passing out. His head gently fell back on the pillows.
Taking a few minutes to make absolutely sure he was asleep and would stay asleep, I then called Malachi to my bedroom.
“Did it work?” Malachi questioned while walking through the threshold. He was nonchalantly examining his nails before he made eye contact with me.
“Yeah.” Then it dawned on me, “Wait, what do you mean ‘did it work?’”
“If you think I do not know what I am doing, then you have no faith in my abilities. And I am offended.” Malachi stated with mock hurt. He even placed his hand on his chest to really drive the point. I narrowed my eyes at him, pursing my lips. “What I meant was,” he dramatically exhaled, “is that I am surprised he fell under the spell so quick. The fastest it has ever taken affect was within ten minutes, not ten seconds.” Malachi scrunched his eyebrows in response to his thoughtfulness. “I knew it was fast acting, I just did not think it was that fast acting. I suppose it is because his subconscious is more prone to accepting influence though.”
“Oh. Well in that case, are you ready?”
“To be rid of him, yes.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you grab him then.”
“Sure.” Even though I could hear the annoyance in his voice at the mild inconvenience that he had to carry Taehyung, Malachi still reached down to pick him up. While he was gentle in the way he initially grabbed him, the way he moved his arms to swing Taehyung over his shoulder, troubled me.
“Hey, don’t hold him like that.” I warned. Malachi readjusted his hold, and instead held Taehyung bridal style. Taehyung’s head calmly rested in the crook of Malachi’s neck. Malachi had disgust painted across his face as plain as day; he looked as though someone had told him to pull soggy bread from the dirty dish water of a sink. He visibly shuddered when he felt Tae’s breath on his neck. “Could you be more amicable, or at least make the effort to try.”
Swallowing down his revulsion, Malachi turned his attention back to me. “Why is he so heavy? Did you have to feed him so much?” He complained.
“Are you calling him fat?”
“Well I am not calling him thin. At least he does not feel that way. He is a lot denser than he looks.” Malachi flippantly replied.
“Would you be quiet. You’re being insufferable.”
“What is insufferable is the fact that I have to carry him around as if we were just married.”
“He isn’t a sack of potatoes you can just throw over your shoulder y’know.”
“He sure feels like one.” Malachi riposted.
“Malachi!” I warned.
“Let’s just go, shall we.” I linked my arm around one of his and he teleported us to a bolt hole we owned in the city.
Upon our arrival to a bedroom of an apartment we barely ever used, Malachi gingerly placed Taehyung back in a wooden platform bed.
“Gross your human drooled on me.” Malachi complained wiping off his collar where Taehyung’s head previously resided.
“Well he surely is not mine.” With his nose turned up, Malachi said it as though he was stating the obvious.
I couldn’t help myself from breaking out into a smile. Quickly making an effort to compose my features, I placed my hands over my mouth to hide my beaming face. Malachi didn’t miss my reaction and only rose a single eyebrow in a silent question. “Shut up.” I mumbled out flustered. He dramatically rolled his eyes and sighed out.
Taking a moment to examine our surroundings, the first thing I noticed was the citrusy scent that filled the room. The pleasant aroma of freshly cut lemons tickled my nose, almost as though someone had been baking a lemon meringue pie. Wondering why it smelled this way, I figured Malachi had left some sort of an automatic air freshener in the apartment rather than actually practice culinary skills in his spare time. Because while it smelled clean, taking further inspection of the vicinity, I could see a thin layer of dust coating the surface of most of the furnishings in the room.
I walked over to the window to let not only some much needed light, but some fresh air as well into the room to combat its dust-filled condition. Upon pushing the curtains aside, the incoming sunbeam only illuminated the flecks of hovering dust motes in the air. The way they seemed to sparkle in the light vaguely reminded me of the drops of dew caught in a spider’s web. There was something wondrously phenomenal about the scene. I turned the latch and cracked the window open. Immediately a crisp breeze blew through the room, and while it was cold, it still felt refreshing. Tucking Taehyung tightly under the blankets, I wanted to make sure he would stay warm despite the slightly chilly temperature. When I deemed the room to be less stale, I closed the window. Immediately sensing one less presence in the room, I knew that Malachi had left.
“I left to straighten up. I suggest you do the same. The condition of this place looks as though it is an estate that has been abandoned for centuries.” Malachi voiced from inside my head. While I knew he was purposefully exaggerating the untidiness of the apartment, I could still hear his utter distaste for what he was seeing. “Dear god, there are so many dust bunnies.”
Leaving the bedroom to go retrieve a duster from the living room, I took note of the state of the rest of the apartment.
“Horrid, is it not?” Malachi joked while distracted. He was rigorously dusting off a massive metal bookcase full of leather bound novels, decorative vases, and other specifically curated knick-knacks that were quintessential to the aesthetic.
“Mm-hmm.” I nodded, biting my bottom lip in worry.
The apartment was contemporary in décor with its minimalistic elements of incorporating neutral colors, geometric shapes, and lots of natural light. The sofa was a soft leather texture in a shade similar to butterscotch, it sat near a walnut wood and glass coffee table that was round. Accompanying the set up were shapely velvet accent chairs that were black. Oversized abstract art hung on the backdrop of the beige and white colored walls. Globe string lights, cute ambient pendant lamps, and an interesting Sputnik chandelier provided an extra warm glow to the room. Various potted plants of different sizes not only filled any noticeably empty space but occupied a few corners of the room. Surprised by their jungle green leaves, I quickly remembered that they had been enchanted to not wilt when we were away for too long to properly water them. The birch wood floors were decorated with a ivory colored woven area rug that seemed to complete the look. Overall, the chic and refined atmosphere that looked almost museum-like gave a completely different vibe in comparison to the more romantic and rural nature-filled elements of my cottage.
While the aesthetic was satisfying to the eyes, it wasn’t as cozy as my cottage. I couldn’t help but feel like it was missing something in terms of comfort. It felt almost impersonal, like a stage meant to display the appearance of the perfect home. That was one of the main reasons Malachi and I never resided here in the city. This apartment was just a bolt hole, a place we could use when we needed to stay in the city or escape to when our energy wasn’t at its fullest and we needed a place to rest. For Malachi it was also a place to store his books; as one of the rooms was completely lined with shelves that went all the way up to the ceiling and were filled with books of every genre. He even had a rolling ladder that swiveled along his makeshift library. We never really found ourselves taking up residence here, which was why the apartment was in the state it was in. Therefore, it desperately needed to be cleaned so that it was more presentable and at least gave the illusion that we really did live here.
“Do you think it looks bad?” I nervously fluffed the gray pillows on the sofa.
“No, we just need to dust for now. Are you planning to give him a tour of the place or something?”
“What? No!” I was growing irritated at Malachi’s incessant accusations that I was trying too hard to befriend Taehyung. “I already told you, we’re taking him home as soon as he wakes up.”
“Then he should not notice. From what I have noticed humans are not ones to really analyze such small details, otherwise they would not find themselves in such predicaments where they expose themselves to situations that result in dangerous and often deadly outcomes. They are too fickle for that.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Plus he will probably be too busy staring at your face to notice the lack of cleanliness in the apartment.” I knit my eyebrows together at his assertion. “Forgive me I have said too much.” Malachi went back to furiously battling the army of dust bunnies that had taken over the shelves.
After finding a worn rag, I returned to the bedroom to clean up. Wiping off the headboard, tops of tables, shelves, between table top decorations, lampshades, and picture frames where dust had collected, I found the room’s appearance greatly improved. I even managed to clear some of the spider webs that had been gathering in the corners of the upper walls. Combined with the smell of lemons, fresh air, natural light, and no longer dusty furniture, the former room that had stood idle for an unspecified amount of time, was now a more open and inviting space. There was only one more precaution that needed to be taken care of.
Looking around the room there was an obvious difference in the layout of this bedroom and my bedroom. This bedroom was more attuned to the refinement of an IKEA with its white walls, wooden accents, and hanging planters than the quaint cluttered coziness of my own room. Taehyung had been conscious for quite some time in my bedroom, so I feared he would definitely notice; the first thing being the bedding. They were a powder blue cotton material as opposed to my white silk sheets. I decided it would be best to cast an illusion charm on the room to mask this bedroom with my own. Closing my eyes I softly uttered the spell. When I opened them, I recognized my own room.
It looked almost identical [and I say almost because the natural sources of light and the way it shone throughout the room could not be replicated]. The walls were now painted a dusty pink and while the wooden accents of the room remained, they were white instead of their more natural woodsy color. The semi sheer linen curtains were replaced by frilly lace ones with delicate eyelets. Floral printed pillows, wicker baskets, candles, and fine china ornaments filled the empty space. The hanging plants still remained too, but dried flowers, fresh flowers, and numerous other houseplants accompanied them on the walls and table tops as well to create an almost indoor garden. Even my bed had changed in appearance. Taehyung now slept in a white metal bed frame with whimsical curves and was wrapped up in the familiar white silk sheets. When I deemed the arrangement of the room acceptable, I left to go find Malachi again.
Back in the living room Malachi lounged lazily on the sofa with his legs propped up on the coffee table. “Mistress I am not going with you to return him.” Malachi nonchalantly stated with his back turned away from me. He didn’t even spare so much as a glance over his shoulder. Instead he carelessly flipped through the pages of a random book he was attempting to read.
“Why not?” I pouted, taking a seat next to him.
“I can barely stand his presence. What makes you think I want to be around more of them. Plus I am sure the bolt hole needs to be more thoroughly cleaned. You know swept and mopped… the whole works.”
“Whatever, “ I grimaced. “But you know once I wipe all their memories, I’ll be significantly weaker.”
“Ah, the solution to your predicament would be to simply summon me. Easy, is it not?”
“No,” I childishly whined out, lengthening the vowel.
“What would you possibly need me there for then?”
“Moral support.” I smiled mischievously at him, aware of the blatantly low brow pun I made.
“Seriously,” he answered impassively. Malachi didn’t seem to be amused.
“Please.” I begged.
“I refuse,” he turned his nose up.
“Pretty please with feathers on top.”
“That does not even make any sense.” I opened my eyes wide and tucked my top lip into my bottom one.
“Oh, no.” He became flustered. “Don’t give me those awful puppy dog eyes you’ve learned to mimic from those bratty cherubs you’re so fond of. It will not work this time.”
It was a few hours later when Taehyung finally awoke. He claimed it was the best sleep he had ever had. That was good considering I was worried the spell would cause him to experience something akin to sleep paralysis, but I couldn’t help feel a bit guilty knowing the true reason behind his sweet dreams. After agreeing to accompany him home to properly meet his friends, two boys he lived with, he had explained that he would need me there to provide backup. Since he hadn’t been in touch with them since he left for work early yesterday morning, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the wrath he would be facing as a result of the extreme worry he put them through.
That’s what led to Taehyung, Malachi and I standing outside of Taehyung’s apartment knocking on the door. Malachi looked incredibly peeved to be standing there beside us. His shoulders where hunched with his arms crossed, but the worst part was he was agitatedly tapping his foot on the ground.
“How long does it take someone to open the damn door. I loathe people who take their time.” Malachi bit the inside of his cheek, irked.
“Behave.” I warned.
“Let us just get this over with.” Malachi groaned in annoyance. “I can not believe you suckered me into coming here.” Malachi complained to me.
“I can’t believe you’re gullible enough to have puppy dog eyes actually work on you.” I snickered. The sound of Malachi grunting irritated reached my ears, just as the door to Taehyung’s apartment swung open to reveal two unfamiliar faces. Worry followed by shock, and then confusion flashed across their faces in a succession. With open mouths their eyes darted back and forth between the three of us. They both appeared to be trying to piece together the dynamic of how we knew each other. The one with a more petite stature and pink hair looked mildly intrigued. His eyes held genuine interest and his eyebrows bounced as if awaiting an explanation. The other one with more of a muscular build and dark hair had more apathetic posture. However, it was his expressive doe eyes that gave him away. Looking beyond the calm and composed nature of his gaze, there was an unmistakable glint of concern reflected in his dark and glossy irises.
“Taehyung,” one with pink hair and a higher pitched voice stuttered out sounding shocked, “Oh, hello.” He continued when he noticed Malachi and I standing there beside Taehyung. He looked a bit startled to see strangers.
“Who are you?” The other immediately questioned without hesitation, his voice stronger than the other’s. He suspiciously eyed both Malachi and I, while doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he was scrupulously looking us up and down. But before I could answer, Taehyung spoke up instead and gave him a warning glare.
“They’re my new friends.” The one with black hair furrowed his eyebrows taken aback for a moment before he schooled his features. The pink haired one sensing the slightly awkward discord that both boys were exuding, suddenly spoke up.
“Hey, no need to be rude Kookie,” the petite boy said disapprovingly. “Don’t mind him, he means well.” Kookie gave him a dirty look. Ignoring the scowl, the petite boy continued, “Why don’t you guys come in and we can all introduce ourselves.” The petite one stepped aside, pulling the one with black hair along with him. We politely removed our shoes after entering through the door, and were led into their living room.
Observing their décor, I noticed that while their apartment was smaller than ours, it was decorated with more personality. It was somewhat fascinating to witness. The items that immediately stood out to me were the countless pictures that lined the walls and were scattered across various other surfaces. While the picture frames at our apartment often displayed art and other decorative pieces like printed quotes; theirs’ were filled with photos of the individual boys, them with each other, their families, and their other friends. Just from their pictures I could tell the three of them were apart of a much larger group of friends. Their candid moments were captured, showcasing their seemingly happy lives through their smiling faces.
“Have a seat.” The one with pink hair kindly gestured to their sofa while he sat in a love seat adjacent to it. Taehyung sat next to me on the sofa while Malachi sat down on the opposite side of me. The one referred to as Kookie chose to stand at first, leaning menacingly against a wall with his arms crossed before the petite one scolded him. He told him to pull up a chair from the kitchen table to sit in and to quit putting on such an intimidating façade when we all knew he was nothing more than an overgrown bunny. In response to the playful yet slightly demeaning tease, Kookie nearly snarled. Stomping his way over to the kitchen, he dragged a chair over. The unpleasant sound of wood roughly scraping against wood filled our ears. Finally, he begrudgingly sat down with a huff and spread his legs wide as if to assert his dominance. Taehyung only shook his head to show his chagrin.
“Where have you been and why didn’t you think to call?” Kookie suddenly questioned breaking the silence. There was an antagonistic undertone in the way he articulated his speech.
“Yeah, we were worried.” The petite one agreed.
“Sorry. I lost my phone.” Taehyung sheepishly answered.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your new friends?” The petite one inquisitively implored.
“Oh, this is Thalia,” Tae pointed towards me. I politely waved. “And her roommate Malachi.” Malachi only casually nodded in response.
“Hello Thalia. I’m Jimin.” The petite one acknowledged, offering his hand.
“Nice to meet you.” I briefly shook it, but he seemed to be more occupied with wanting to receive Malachi’s attention.
“Malachi,” Jimin seemed captivated by him. I made sure to telepathically warn Malachi to behave so we wouldn’t have a repeat of the earlier incident when he first was introduced to Taehyung.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Malachi forced out. I could hear the edge in his voice. It was rather amusing to see Jimin shake Malachi’s hand for a prolonged period of time and Malachi’s mild annoyance at the situation.
“Why will he not let go?” Malachi sounded genuinely perplexed. I bit the inside of my mouth in an attempt to keep myself from outright laughing. “Well a least his hands are soft,” he sighed out.
Distracted by the interesting interaction between Jimin and Malachi, the other boy curtly introduced himself. “I’m Jungkook.” He quickly raised his eyebrows to signify his lack of enthusiasm. “Hyung, are you now going to explain how you ended up gone for like thirty-six hours?”
“Actually I was going to have them explain.” Taehyung pointed in our direction.
“Coward.” Malachi declared.
“Long story short, basically I slipped on some ice and blacked out. They found me and took me to their apartment to recover.” Taehyung was nonchalant in his retelling of the story, even choosing to laugh near the end. He nervously scratched the back of his neck, smiling while his eyes turned into half moons. His friends didn’t look amused though, instead they were shocked. Their eyes nearly popped out of their skulls.” Jimin looked as though he needed to pick up his jaw off the floor. Jungkook just looked pissed that Taehyung was treating the topic so lightly.
“Oh my god. Are you hurt? How’s your head? Why didn’t you call us to let us know what happened?” Jimin offered the series of questions slightly upset.
“I’m fine. I don’t have a head injury. I actually hurt my arm, but the pain is minor. I already told you I lost my phone.”
“What hyung meant was that you could have used their phone.” Jungkook pointed at us. The problem was that we didn’t have a phone. I started sweating trying to think of an excuse.
“I will handle it.” Before Malachi could calmly cover our asses, Taehyung intervened with his own proclamation.
“But I don’t have your numbers memorized.”
“What! Bullshit. We’ve been texting for years and you don’t remember our numbers by heart.” Jungkook exclaimed offended.
“I have you saved in my phone as kookie and, uh, soulmate.” He whispered the last word a bit embarrassed that he referred to his best friend as his soulmate. “Platonically of course.” He made sure I heard that part. “The only number I know by heart is my mom’s.” Jungkook rolled his eyes at Taehyung’s confession.
Jimin spoke up, “Well, uh, that’s fine then.”
“It’s not fine.” Jungkook complained.
“Jungkook-,” Jimin warned. “What’s important is that Tae is safe. Uh, are your friends going to fill us in on the details you failed to leave out? Or-,”
“Yeah, they’ll explain how they found me. I need to take a shower anyway, I feel gross.” He looked down at his clothes and pulled the fabric away from him. “You two will still be here when I come out right?” He turned to make eye contact with me. His face looked anxious.
“Yes, we’ll be here. Don’t worry.” I nodded smiling in reassurance. Malachi didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the issue. But we didn’t have much of a choice, considering we needed to wipe all of their memories of them ever encountering us.
“Okay, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He got up and hurried off to what I assumed was his room. Minutes later the spray of the shower head could be faintly heard from down the hall.
While Taehyung was occupied with freshening up, Jimin had offered Malachi and I some refreshments. Malachi requested tea while I just opted for sipping some water. And whilst doing so I reiterated the story of how I found Tae. This time it was much less daunting to tell the white lies as I had had practice rehearsing it with Malachi and actually recited it to Tae, but now I also had Malachi by my side to fill in any of the mildly concerning blanks. Thankfully the two boys seemed to wholeheartedly believe us. They never even asked any intense questions. From the looks of it though I could tell Jungkook wanted to question us more harshly, but each time he had the chance to Jimin sent a reprimanding look his way that deterred him from doing so.
Just as soon as he left Taehyung returned. His hair was damp, curling slightly at the ends and the smell of lavender scented lotion wafted off him when he took a seat next to me. He was wearing a simple T-shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts. This look was much more relaxed compared to the more elegant dress clothes he was wearing earlier. While it was simple, it didn’t take away from the fact that he was just as handsome as ever.
“Careful, you are drooling.” Malachi taunted. Jimin was currently conversing with him and Jungkook seemed dazed. He looked as though he was staring off into space trying to process every detail of what I had told him about how Malachi and I had found Taehyung. I wouldn’t put it past him to be looking for any slip-ups in our story. Suddenly I felt a shift in the sofa cushion. Taehyung’s bare thigh brushed against my clothed one.
“Hey can I talk to you alone for a moment.” He whispered in my ear as the others were distracted. His peppermint breath fanned over my ear in the process, and I had to suppress a shudder. I nodded. We both quietly rose from the sofa in an attempt to sneak away from their unsuspecting eyes. Unfortunately Jimin picked up on our antics and sent Taehyung a knowing wink, while Jungkook only looked away blushing. It was the first time he appeared more shy in his demeanor.
“You keep those two busy for the time being, while I deal with Tae.”
Malachi clicked his tongue and shook his head. “So this is the reason you brought me here. To babysit.”
“Hush Malachi and just do as I ask. Plus you may find that you actually enjoy the company of humans.”
“I thoroughly doubt that. I am not a proponent of mingling with their kind. But I will do it. I just will not find it pleasant.”
Taehyung showed me around his room, pointing to pictures and interesting objects he possessed or were gifted to him. When he had his back to me, I sneakily ran my fingertips over some of his belongings and was able to pick up on the energy that was attached to the sentimental pieces. Flashes of memories played through my head as if they were snapshots. I was pulled from the mental photo book of images when I heard him speak up.
“It’s funny, I feel like you’re my guardian angel with you helping me and all.” he joked as he fidgeted with a random trinket he had in his hands. I forced a smile and laughed awkwardly at the irony of it all.
“We should hang out sometime. I could maybe buy you dinner or something. You know as a thank you. I mean if that’s something you’d be willing to do… with me.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck. “It doesn’t have to be a date though, unless you want it to be.” His voice softened towards the end. He was being awkward, his eyes shifting around the room only to make eye contact with me at the end of his offer to gauge my reaction. An almost feverish blush broke out across the bridge of his nose and spanned across his cheeks.
“That would be lovely,” I lied knowing I couldn’t actually accept the proposal.
“Great.” He said a little to excitedly. “Can I have your number or would it be better if I gave you mine.”
“Isn’t your phone lost?” I furrowed my eyebrows playfully at him.
“Oh yeah, shit, I forgot. Uh, how about you just write your number down for me,” he scrambled through his desk drawers for some stationery. Finally, he just settled for a slightly wrinkled piece of scrap paper. He then pulled a pen with its cap moderately chewed on from a cup of writing utensils. Offering me the two writing materials he continued, “I’ll text you as soon as I get a new phone. Which will probably be by tomorrow or the day after at the latest.” He rambled. Anxiety welled up inside me because I didn’t have a phone number to give him, I only nodded stiffly making no attempt to grab the items from his hands. Staring at the pen and paper, I struggled to remember just how many digits were even in a phone number, so when I gave him a fake one he wouldn’t find me strange. He must have sensed my panic, mistaking it for apprehension, because he quickly suggested another alternative. He hurriedly set the paper and pen aside on his dresser. “Or if you’re not comfortable with that I could just give you Jungkook’s number, no scratch that I’ll give you Jimin’s instead, so you can keep in touch. Jungkook never even looks at his texts anyway.” He hastily offered. “I’ll go get it.” Just as he was about to leave the room, I abruptly called his attention back to me knowing now was the time to sever our ties. This interaction had gone on way longer than I intended and I knew Malachi would begin to get impatient if I didn’t act soon.
“Tae?” My voice wobbled.
“Yes.” He immediately turned and stopped in his tracks, he sounded almost breathless.
“May, I hug you goodbye for now?” I asked, my voice nearly breaking. It wasn’t for now, it was for the last time, for forever.
“Sure,” he promptly answered, not even taking the time to think over my request or notice my odd wording. He immediately opened his arms wide to receive me.
Nearly running towards him, I hugged him tight as I breathed in his scent. I noticed he not only smelled like the sweet calming scent of lavender but a hint of chamomile as well. His own unique natural musk was faintly mixed in too.
“This is nice.” He hummed out, hugging me back with just as much intensity.
I laughed halfheartedly knowing what I was going to do next. “I’m sorry.” I whispered in his ear, a few stray tears escaped over the rims of my eyes. They dripped carelessly onto the warm skin of his neck. He must of felt them because he flinched slightly at the unmistakable moisture.
“Wha-,” he sounded confused before I began, I took a steady breath to recite the spell.
“Remember to forget
That we have ever met,
Wipe me from your memory.
Let this be your remedy
To make it as though
You will never know
Me, even in your dreams.
While it may seem
That this is unfair,
You must be made aware
That it is for your safety.
Forgive my frailty
For allowing myself to get so close.
Greedily taking the most
Only to pull so far away.
I should have kept you at bay,
Knowing it was forbidden.
Yet like a moth hidden
From your unsuspecting view,
I was drawn to the flame that was you.
But now like a discarded ember,
I urge you to forget to remember.”
I whispered the memory spell in his ear. Almost immediately he went stiff as if he were immobilized. From where I stood, I witnessed goosebumps break out on his arms and his hairs stood on end. His arms then fell limply to his sides and hung there. As if waiting for the next command, he stood up straight with a frighteningly blank expression reflected in his irises. They were void of all their warmth and intensity making it seem as though he was an empty shell of a person.
Instead they were clouded in a haze the color of dark pewter. The color seemed to swirl around like a raging storm at sea in his glassy stare. He was pliant under my influence, standing at the ready to receive orders.
I rested my forehead against his, I then kissed him to fully seal the spell. Perhaps it was my own self deception, but I swore it felt like he was kissing me back. Pulling away his eyes still held no emotion, which I was somewhat hurt by, even though I knew it was irrational to hope for him to be affected by it when he was incapacitated. I grabbed his hand and led him over to his bed. I pulled back his blankets and guided him to lay down.
“Go to sleep. And when you wake, it will be as though I never existed.” His eyes instantly flickered closed at my instruction.
Since arriving here I had been conflicted with the idea of giving Taehyung a parting gift or rather a kind of amulet that would protect him from bad omens. I was reluctant, knowing Malachi wouldn’t be so fond of the idea; however, I knew if I didn’t, I would regret not doing so. So I decided to go through with creating one.
Plucking exactly five strands of white hair from my head, the snap of the fibers could be faintly heard in my ears when they were delicately tugged from my scalp. Each strand pulled seemed to glimmer when they were held up towards the light. The sheen was something akin to spun starlight.
Each strand was specifically chosen with the purpose to embody a significant essence: one to represent my own self, while another represented him, the third my resolve to protect, the fourth his emerging future, and the last was the strand that would bind my protectorship to the prospects of his future.
After all the strands were pulled taunt, I began the practice of meticulously winding the hairs around each other. The first strand that represented myself was twisted around the one that represented my protection and was subsequently set aside for later. That same procedure was done to the strands that represented Taehyung and his future. A few moments later, the strand symbolizing me that I had previously set aside, was grabbed and placed next to the one that symbolized Taehyung. Reaching for the last strand, it was then firmly wrapped around both of the two separate newly thicker strands, to prominently intertwine them together. When I deemed my work satisfactory, I took the singular braided strand and weaved it around my fingers to create a cat’s cradle.
But just as I was about to recite a protective incantation, Malachi’s voice rang out through my head. “May I so kindly inquire what is taking so long?” Malachi wasn’t so much rude, as he was at most anxious. There was a nervous edge in his voice. I could imagine him restlessly fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt and adjusting the collar to make it more comfortable. He probably assumed I was having trouble with carrying out the task of wiping Taehyung’s memory.
“Malachi I have already done the deed. Now if you would be so good to award me sufficient time and privacy to have my final goodbye, it would be much appreciated.” I said as though I was mourning a loss. “Please.”
“Fine. I shall allow it,” He sighed out. “Take all the time you need, Mistress. Til then, I will be waiting.”
“Thank you.” When I was sure Malachi could no longer tap into my thoughts, I took a second to focus my dwindling energy and then initiated the narration of the charm directly into the freshly woven plait.
When things look grim.
Keep him safe
That all is well.
As my final farewell
Ward off evil
And those considered lethal.
Do away with danger
Now that I am a stranger.
But with my love
Have him sail high above
In the billowing clouds.
Looking down on the crowds
Of sorrowful souls lost
Who have paid the cost
Of lying in a watery grave
Never to be forgave
Only to be forever tethered
In the desolate pressured
Abyss of the sea of peril.
Its nature alarmingly untamed and feral.
Instead have him prosper
His trials and tribulations.
Not be bound by limitations.
To flourish like a garden,
His mistakes pardoned
Learning slow and steady
To weather all life’s storms.
And misshapen intentions
Set by others’ pretensions.
Have the world be his oyster,
His hopes and dreams not be cloistered.
I wish him luck on his path,
As I will now not be apart of his future, present, or past. While uttering the ritual incantation, the newly fashioned strand was intricately looped around itself to create a closed circle in the design that currently resided between both my hands. As soon as that was complete, the strand was sharply yanked taunt again with a single precise pull, and wrapped once around Taehyung’s wrist. The two ends were then coiled together to not only secure it in place, but indefinitely bind the spellwork inside the pieces of hair. Consequent to its closure, the once white strand had transformed black, meaning the magic had successfully been incorporated into it.
A few tears still remained on my cheeks, I gently brushed them away with my fingertips. Upon closer inspection the beads of moisture had legitimately crystallized. Closing my palms around the crystals and shutting my eyes, I elaborately envisioned the crystal lattices being transfigured into tiger’s eye quartz. I imagined their golden color and silky luster replacing the transparency and rigid structure of my crystalline tears. Soon I began to feel something cool to the touch and weighted in my palms. Startled by the realization that the alchemy had worked, I opened my eyes to discover that there were several of the chatoyant gemstones with their beautiful striations nestled in the palms of my hands. Then performing the final and most grueling step, I offered my hands with my palms facing up and raised them out in front of me. Silently asking for something to attach the gems to the makeshift bracelet, I was presented with silver rings from seemingly out of nowhere. Flinching at the cold feeling of the metal, they laced like slithering snakes between the gaps of my fingers and interlocked around themselves. Slowly I slid them over my knuckles to get them off. Immediately upon coming in contact with the tiger’s eye, they proceeded to penetrate straight through the quartz. To my surprise the rings smoothly glided down the contours of my hands and sought to entwine themselves within the hairs of the bracelet, as if they were green ivy wound around Greek columns.
“This will protect you in the event you find yourself in any sort of trouble.” I thought aloud.
At my declaration a warm wetness slid out of my nose. At first I thought it was mucus dripping from my runny nose. After all I had been crying. However, upon further observation, I realized it was blood after the offending liquid ran over my lips and I went to wipe it away. The unmistakable ruby color and metallic taste were obvious signs that my nose was bleeding. I knew it was the result of me pushing my powers beyond their usual limit. But I couldn’t find it in me to care that I now had blood messily smeared along the lower half of my face. The only thing that was occupying my mind was the fact that this was the last time I would be able to interact freely with Taehyung again.
Grabbing his hand, I held it in both of mine and pressed it to my forehead. I continued to cry. The little self composure I had broke under the flood of emotions I was experiencing. I reminisced the small but significant encounters we had with one another, some being from before we officially met and others from the little moments of him just being in my presence and sharing seemingly meaningless conversations. I thought of the first time I saw him, the first time he smiled his boxy grin and the way his eyes turned upwards, and the first time he genuinely laughed with his whole body. I could remember the sound as clear as a bell. I recollected the first time he addressed me and how there was so much wonder reflected in his eyes. The way he said my name and how his mouth formed the syllables was something I would never forget. In these last few instances I could pull from my memory the feel of his skin and the warmth he emitted when I hugged him goodbye. I felt kind of pathetic for having such evocative feelings for a boy I barely knew. While those memories were intense and a melancholic reminder of what once was, I knew in due time they would eventually bring a comforting smile to my face whenever I thought of them.
But for now, I only wished to be human. I currently felt like one, with all the intense emotions I was feeling. If I had been one, I would have at least had the pleasure of knowing him and maybe even had the chance to be something more to him, something meaningful. That’s what broke my heart the most, simultaneously being so close to him and yet so very far away knowing we could never be together. Now as I sat watching his sleep enchanted figure it felt as though I had flew too close to the sun, only to get burned and be sent falling perilously back to the ground.
Haphazardly wiping the heated tears off my face, “Well, this is where our paths part,” I hiccuped, “I bid you farewell.” I muttered softly squeezing his hand, the words nearly getting stuck in the back of my throat. Reaching out I lovingly stroked his cheek. I couldn’t bear to say goodbye because it was too painful. Then without taking so much as a second glance, I left the room. Paired with the new knowledge that I was finally able to figure out his name and actually get the opportunity to engage with him, it made walking away so much harder than the last time.
Greeting Malachi in the living room, I noticed the two other boys passed out peacefully on their couch, looking as though they were fast asleep. Malachi only nodded at me to acknowledge my presence.
“Done?” Malachi tentatively asked the closed question. He could tell I was hurting, his eyes solicitously searching into my red ones. They softened as he awaited my answer.
“Yeah.” I sounded dead inside.
Attempting to distract from the pain of the situation, Malachi joked pointing to the two boys. “I can not believe you left me with those two. All the muscular one with the bunny teeth and piercings did was sit there quietly and stare. He looked as though he was judging me the entire time. Like he had any right to,” Malachi scoffed. “While the one with pink hair and pouty lips just asked me a bunch of questions and then proceeded to giggle at my deadpan delivery. I know I am not that funny. And he would not stop touching me.”
I shook my head at Malachi’s inability to pick up on when a human was attempting to flirt with him. “You’re dense you know that.” Mentally I sent him flashes of people flirting in similar ways that I had seen in media, as well as ones I had witnessed in my real life pursuits. His eyebrows rose in realization. “And you’re awfully observant of the humans you are so-called appalled by.”
Catching on to what I was insinuating, his eyes shot open again, but this time they looked as though they would nearly pop out of his skull. “Hold your tongue. I just have eyes and I choose to use them. Do not misconstrued my words or delude yourself-,” I rose a single eyebrow questioning his defensive tone and he brought his rant to a sudden halt. “I apologize Mistress.” His shoulders deflated a little and his head hung low, ashamed of his combative outburst.
“S’okay. You wiped their memories of us right?” I eyed each of the boys.
“Good.” I granted him a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes.
“This is for the best.” He kindly offered, reaching out to rub soothing circles on my back.
Looking up at him, “I know. Or at least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself.”
“Shall we leave?” He wiped his thumb over my chin to try to remove some of the dried blood on it.
“Yes. Let’s go.” I voiced.
“Come then, little bird.” Malachi nodded reaching for my hand. He grabbed it and teleported us back home to my cottage in the forest.
Like the night, we were cloaked in a billowy plume of dark mist, seemingly gone from sight.
Window Four: The Handsome Friend of a Friend - poly!au / sculptor!yoongi x painter!namjoon x fashion illustrator!jin x traveller!reader / friends to lovers / strangers to lovers
Summary: Jiwon, the guy who had a crush on you during elementary school is back in town. And he’s brought a friend with him. A broad-shouldered fashion illustrator with chiselled features like one of the many marble sculptures that Yoongi swears his life over. But.. ties run deeper than they appear. For aside from being a beauty he happens to be an old friend of Namjoon’s and a fellow part-timer of Yoongi’s. The fun part is, they both seem to be rather fond of him. Maybe even a little more than necessary. And you can see why. He’s one charming fellow.
summary: yoongi has found something in you he never thought he could have.
pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: pure fluff
word count: 1k
tags/warnings: many kisses, mention of tongue (don’t look at me), this one made me feel too fluffy jasdj
a/n: for @captainorangegoose, courtneyyy! i’m like kind of embarrassed to share this, idk like apparently i translate yoongi fluff to kissing. but you asked for good ol’ fashioned fluff so i hope i’ve delivered with this fic. i hope even more that you like it though. thank you for supporting me always <3
october drabble event mlist
You loved when Yoongi was like this. When life wasn’t hanging over him like a helicopter, no concerns about a stray camera finding the two of you caught up in love, your privacy splayed for judging eyes to see. When Yoongi wasn’t thinking or worrying whether you knew enough how much he loved you. Craved you. Needed you.
It always made you chuckle, the times he would show that extra attention to you after hanging out with the large group mixed between your friends and his. He’d find you wherever you were, in the kitchen was the last place; you had arrived home after spending dinner and the late hours with everyone. Yoongi came up behind you and rubbed your arms before slipping his around you, his breathy laugh ghosting over your neck after he pulled your hair to one side. Veiny hands (that you loved to see wrapped around you) scaling your body with care, but you could feel his determination for you to know he wanted you. He always did, even in the moments he was too shy to kiss you in front of others or even hold you.
But now, he wasn’t afraid, the two of you alone in his studio. He texted you earlier to stop by and have some dinner with him. His excuse was he ordered too much food but you knew at first sight when he opened the door, his pale cheeks pink with blush from seeing you, he just missed you.
He pulled you in, shutting the door with his foot while his lips sought after you. Giggling between kisses-you loved this. Oh, you loved every form your boyfriend showed you. But this? You loved this Yoongi.
“Hello to you too,” you giggled, kissing him back, “should-we-eat?” He made it difficult for you to talk, only answering by shaking his head while keeping himself glued to you. Somehow, he managed to get the two of you to the couch, safely.
Long forgotten was the food he ordered, too caught up in you and needing to show you by his almost desperate kisses. You couldn’t remember if he ever reduced you to such a bundle of nerves before, feeling the very tips of those butterflies’ wings tickling your insides as he advanced his kisses to the spots that left you flustered.
Time didn’t exist for those moments, feeling your boyfriend kiss you like it was the first and last one he would ever have with you. Part of you wanted to shy away when his tongue touched your bottom lip or when his smile threatened to break the two of you apart. His hands holding you, kneading your arms, or finding a place around your jaw that left your skin searing and wanting more.
But as wanton as he could be, Yoongi always knew when to stop. Especially at work. You couldn’t be upset, settling for soft pecks after some time. His lips were plump now, making you giggle as you reached over to wipe the chapstick from them that he managed to kiss off of you completely.
His dark eyes drink you in, eyelids heavy with love and lust for you. His long fingers stroke yours where they are intertwined. Everything you feel for him starts to bubble over and you almost hate to break this silence-
“This is nice,” you soothe, moving your free hand to tuck his hair behind his ear before stroking his jaw with your pointer finger, “even though you lied about dinner.”
He breathes that laugh you love, the one you can never be without since he’s come into your life, “we can still eat,” he says, tugging your hand.
“I’m enjoying this too much,” your voice is low, reminiscent of the way you talk to him in bed before the two of you fall asleep, “I’m feeling very wanted.”
His crooked smirk makes your heart race along with the way he closes his eyes when you run your finger over his lip. Effectively, you enjoy watching your boyfriend crumble before you.
“Mm,” he mutters, all his love for you present in his eyes, “I was working on a song-couldn’t stop thinking about you and-” he shrugs, eyes dropping to where your hand is held in his, “I don’t know.” He chuckles, his lips tipping up into a bashful smile.
“What?” You ask lightly, smiling with him.
His eyes sparkle like some undiscovered galaxy when he looks at you again, “I just never thought I’d find something like this.”
Biting your inner lip, you ask, “like what, Yoongi?”
He answers with his eyes first, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and you remember who you got the habit from; “you and me.”
A ball forms in your throat and Yoongi is groaning when he sees a sheen form over your eyes, already begging you to stop before you even have the chance to shed a single tear.
“Babe,” you drawl, taking a sharp breath in as you fall forward, pulling your hand out of his to press them against his shoulders. Yoongi gripes as you push him back on the couch until you’re laying on top of him, pouting over him. His hands rest on your hips, smoothing his palms there. Up and down, up and down while staring up at you.
“You have me, Min Yoongi,” you lean your face down, pressing the tip of your nose against his, “you have me forever.”
He nods, moving one hand to wrap around the back of your neck. His breath is slow when he kisses you again, losing count on how many that’s been in the last hour.
If not for the work awaiting him, Yoongi would have kept you there with him all night. Mumbling something to himself, his hand smoothing your hair down before opening the door for you.
“See you when you get home,” you look back at him, your hand held by his. He pulls you back for one quick peck.
His voice is deep and you can feel it against your lips; “text me please?” He asks, blinking innocently, “when you get home…”