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werezmastarbucks · 23 days ago

Text

15. saplings

flowers over boys masterlist

in which you learn why the staff has been avoiding you like death

word count: 3527

warnings: if you don't clutch your pearls i am retiring

"i advise you to lock her up for the duration of the games".

"i am literally here", your hands fall down. you've been adjusting the azalea petals, but Hoseok just has a way to destroy any concentration you have for a task. Yoongi raises his hand to shush you.

"the yangban are coming, and she will embarrass you in front of them".

Jimin is having a field day. his arms on his chest, he's not wearing the mask because the only people in the throne room - are you, king, Hoseok and Jungkook.

"no, i promise", you start, and Jimin bites his lip and chokes his laughter. the boy is glowing when there's some shit going down, he is in love with nonsense.

"i won't do anything embarrassing", for once, you are ready to plead sincerely. you really want to see the games. you have not sweated and suffered for three days on a tall, old ladder, wobbling, swaying, perched on the fucking roof, under the blazing sun, with Jungkook "backing you up" most of the day, with his annoying comments; not to attend the games. you have decorated two levels of the roof, cut all your fingers with the needles, you now have dreams about the ladder and the morning glory. and this piece of ass wants to lock you up and ban from the action.

"i will be quiet", you promise, looking at him and Yoongi. Jungkook's eyebrows are raised. Yoongi is not convinced yet.

"i really wanna see this. i will only cheer, yeah? i can cheer, right? for Jungkooki- for Jungkook. but i promise, i will behave this time. hey, i was the one who decorated the whole pavilion".

Jimin sniffs shortly with a smile.

"avoid the risk", Hoseok suggests. "even now as she begs, her arms are bare".

you look at your arms. yeah, rolled up the sleeves so that they don't get in the way. you stare at the General in disbelief.

"hey, saboteur", you step to Hoseok, rolling your sleeves down slowly. he strands you at his side, his gaze returning to his beloved wang.

Yoongi is sitting on the first step of his platform, just like you did some time ago. you keep the flogging jokes away, tuck them deep and shut them out. his horsetail is over his shoulder, and he looks relaxed. he tilts head to the left, then to the right. you are quite used to his eyes roaming about you. it's non-suggestive in nature but obviously you take it personally. he is so good-looking your teeth hurt.

"Yoongi, look at me".

"i am".

"i won't embarrass you in front of your friends".

Hoseok sighs.

"i will just watch the games from the crowd, i won't even be in the vicinity".

"you will stand out anyway", Jungkook snorts. "i mean it in a good way".

maybe Yoongi is simply in a good mood.

"let her", Jimin chimes in. he doesn't really care about the reputation, he simply likes to stir shit.

"i will be by Seokjin's side..."

"no, you will be with your garden crew, as it is orderly", Yoongi says.

"fine. i'll be with the girls".

you know you will find Jin regardless. he will repeat anything you tell him. he will cheer for the golden maknae with you. knowing that Jungkook actually will participate, that he actually made his way across the country and visited, and has been training in order to participate, makes it absolutely out of question whether you will see it. it's not run bts; it's idols olypmics.

Yoongi shifts his misty, opaque cat eyes to Jimin who is snickering by the window. by the way. yes. the king looks orgasmic in between magnolias.

"maybe she should participate", he muses lazily, "in the poetry competition".

Jungkook gasps like a child, his hand on his mouth. Jimin loses it completely, dropping his head on his chest. Hoseok simply loses braincells. you are confused.

"what is that? i am not too good at poetry".

Yoongi shrugs at his childhood friend.

"finally something we know that you do not", Jungkook calls from behind, "feels good".

Jimin's fingers claw at his face. you feel like the butt of the joke but it's mellow. Hoseok isn't having it either. he looks down, stylishly defeated.

on the day of the games almost nobody works. the palace is buzzing. staff keeps sweeping already clean roads in between pavilions, scrubbing the floors of the corridors that already gleam with the morning sun. it smells like incense everywhere, inside and outside. the huge round bonfires on both sides of the main gate are lit, and it gets so hot in that spot, that people run through quickly. as they enter the palace, they see the decorated main yard and pass by the long side paths to the west of grounds, where the purple-green pavilion glistens in the sun, and it makes you proud of your work. after all the suffering you've gone through in the last three days, you think it was worth it. people look with their mouths open and shuffle noisily, taking their places in front of the building. there's talk, and colour; everybody is wearing their prettiest dresses, hair slicked back shines in the sun; there are powdered, blushing faces everywhere. the garden crew is keeping you in the middle of a tight circle and you all move like a bunch of organized turtles, like someone had warned them to keep you in check. Jiyoung is at your side: she smells like flowers and breathes deeply. she mutters into your ear sometimes; don't look up too eagerly; this is yangban Han. he will ascend to the balcony and will watch together with king. he has four wives. she nods in small motions to move your attention, trying to distract you, to keep you silent: see orange robes? they have arrived all the way from Jeonju. they are our king's distant relatives. orange means faded gold. you think there's not enough space on the balcony for everybody to watch the games with the king: you decorated it the last thing the day before yesterday. in a fit of hatred, you also put one dark anemone you found on the side of the road outside the market, to the inner side of the banister to let him know one day you will beat him up. anemones are... sincerely open and so round, simple, they strangely remind you of yourself. this is one is also purple, of course.

today the mood is much better. square is buzzing. the sun comes in and out, warms the place up, people keep moving, divided into fractions by colour and belonging. young people from the whole country gather to demonstrate their strength, and you assess them; it's mostly the elite, rich kids, princes and yangbans, and Jungkook is among them. the Hanseong contestants all wear purple (you are reminded like once a week that Seoul has a different official name for now, by the annoyed garden maids). they make up the most of the players, sometimes even competing between each other.

"is this a way to replenish the palace warrior stock?" you wonder.

"no. it's just games to celebrate the harvest. of course, some take it very seriously..." Jiyoung's eyes rest on Jungkook's back for a second as she chuckles. the Monkey Prince is in the middle of the square, surrounded by peers and competition, stretching. aside from preparing the muscles, it's also supposed to intimidate the others when he does a flip from the standing spot for no reason at all.

"protecting the wang image".

"you're right", she nods.

a little commotion, and the place gets into relative order. Jiyoung says hi and you turn to see Seokjin with his hair in the knot on the back of his head, shining brighter than everybody here. he gives you a lazy, graceful smile.

"is Taehyung competing?" you ask.

"yes. sword. the Prince will do running, sparring and battle".

"and General?"

"General doesn't compete", Jin reposnds, "but i will kill everybody at Gonggi".

"like you did last year?" his sister laughs.

"forget about it. past is past", Jin dismisses confidently, "Seokjin for the win".

"team Kim Seokjin never loses", you chime in, your eyes on the square, observing the young people preparing to tear each other apart. you spot Taehyung in his purple kimono-like robe, looking very focused, like he doesn't hear anything around himself.

"even if it consists of just one person", Jin agrees.

the first game is sword competition. it resembles a dance more. you make sure several times that you are not allowed to cheer loudly, a balcony full of incredibly important people above you. king is in a dark-red robe with bright golden stamp of a serpent. there are several people at his side, some of them grab the banisters as they watch, and break the vines you had placed there.

Taehyung moves like the air itself supports him, and he doesn't need to land. like gravity is some hoe he is too good for. just like Prince and the king, he uses his hair to enhance his movements, to make him look like a bird. the competitors do not touch each other; it's not a fight but a demonstration of skill. and there's no point comparing; there was a reason Taehyung was chosen to present the king's warriors. he is like a ghost. you are not surprised. others? yes. people ouch, ohh and gasp, but you know the boy and the way his body moves.

that came out worse that it was supposed to.

Taehyung wins, beautiful, bashful, the fastest and the most flexible. the judges in different-coloured robes choose him over everybody else, and the palace crowd erupts in cheer that you happily pick up. you are really trying to keep your word and not stand out, so you use this moment to let out your support for him, screaming his name.

next, the whole crowd shifts and leaves the pavilion to enter the large sand field behind the palace. you realize it's a kind of a running track when several boys, Jungkook among them, step to the sand. spectators hum with anticipation, heads turning, as they look at the boys. all tall, slender, lean; could do a calendar. in the growing worry of the crowd, you cup your hands to your mouth and yell once, sharply,

"bangtan!"

Jungkook's head snaps to the viewers and he lowers it immediately.

should it be mentioned that he wins. Jungkook keeps winning the whole day, in all three competitions that he participates in, because he has a pride to protect, because he has been trained by Yoongi and Hoseok. because he is golden. you look up to the balcony on the other side of the pavilion and see his hyungs standing shoulder by shoulder, their faces smirking in the most shit-eating way.

young men compete in speed, might and wit, climbing uprooted trunks, jumping, sparring with no tops on (kind of extra), doing something that looks like wrestling. you notice that the purple warriors are all taller, buffer, more capable. it would make sense that the king's crew consists of the best fighters from the whole country, especially with a reaper like Hoseok to train them. they win the majority of the games and you can see the yangban guests being pissed, disappointed, shaking their heads. it brings you a special kind of cognitive satisfaction to see people from other cities. how they walk, how they avoid looking at the king directly, what they say. Jungkook finishes the game of battle, a repetition of the exercise you've seen him do long time ago, by absolutely destroying twelve people, and bows to his uncle, panting, furious, with the healthy blush on his face that would earn him the world. you hear the voice coming from the balcony.

"for the next year i need to spike my boys with the sapaieo salmusa venom. Monkey seems to be unbeatable".

"sapphire viper?" you ask Jiyoung, "is that a thing?"

you disperse agitated, still a whole big body of the audience, to return to the inner yard to watch the rest of the games.

"no, it's a saying", she chuckles, "sapphire vipers do not exist".

Taehyung joins your company out of nowhere; in the mass of people he is almost unnoticeable, now that he has changed into an unassuming grey robe. he wants to be closer to Jiyoung and walks with you, chatting. the majority of the games is over, and purple people scatter into the palace, tired, sweaty, victorious. you throw the last look into the square.

"you're awfully quiet today", Taehyung notes, amused.

"i promised not to embarrass anyone", you sigh. Seokjin is already deep in his thoughts, planning his Gonggi win, his hand working by itself. he walks with you, leading you all to the commoners' games space.

"okay, but do not laugh at me if i lose", he braces himself before entering.

"you won't. you're bangtan, Jin", you squeeze his shoulder, laughing.

"what's that mean?"

"means you cannot be defeated".

"i am bangtan then", Taehyung grins wide. you look at him with a smile.

"yes, you are. you are my bangtan boys".

everybody finds this a little uncomfortable, a tiny bit. Taehyung's grin turns awkward for a second; Seokjin is more straightforward.

"let's not get carried away here".

and steps into the small, round arena among the Gonggi players. it was nice of Yoongi to allow a portion of the square in front of the small pavilion to be turned into a market-like station for the commoners' games. they aren't as garceful as the elites games, and consist mostly of the traditionals. on the plus side, you can cheer through them, supporting your friend or relative. and cheer, you do, for Jin. upon winning Gonggi, he decides to try himself in archery and loses by a small margine, because at the last moment, he gets distracted by the smell of food. the boys may not be ready to be called yours, but all demonstrate excellent talents, seemingly even better than in the future. someone else erupts in screaming at the far side of the square and you turn to see Jungkook, walking around with his arms outstretched, maids and servants swarming him, shrieking. you chuckle with your whole throat. he deserves this.

"go on", Jiyoung allows, "tell him you are proud of him".

you shake your head,

"no, i am lower than grass today".

Jiyoung uses this moment to slip away and congratulate the Monkey Prince, and as she makes her way through the crowd, Taehyung steps closer to you.

"you did a great job with the roof".

you thank him with a feeling. every little acknowledgement means a lot to you. your index fingers on both hands are covered in constellations of small cuts from the needles, and feel absolutely numb.

"i was meaning to help but..."

"i know, i am punished for being insolent and a pain in the ass. he won't break me like that. i am only going to get worse".

Taehyung's glance on you slides off quickly and he opens his mouth.

but doesn't say anything. you catch his eye with suspicion.

"what?"

he shakes his head. you push him in the forearm. Seokjin produces a cry from the nearest stall and you see him slapping a guy on the head.

"that's three? this costs one and a half at best".

"he is such a diva", you murmur, looking at him in admiration. Taehyung thinks Jin has distracted you well, but you return to him immediately.

"what is it? i can see you're not telling me something. is Jiyoung very jealous?" you guess, "i have barely seen you in the last weeks".

he shakes his hands in the air quickly, poor boy.

"no- no, no, no, it's not Jiyoung. it's..." his dark, neatly set eyes stare at you for a moment.

"you're not punished. the male staff are forbidden to so much as look at you".

at first, your head tips to the side with indignation. what is his problem? he thinks you won't be capable of doing things yours-

Taehyung's eyes brush over your face with an unspoken apology.

"oh. oh".

you cross your arms on your chest. a slow smile tears through the pout and it takes all the muscles of your face to fight it off. Taehyung's newly acquired habit of scanning space around when you're near him makes more sense.

"Taehyung".

"uh?" he isn't sure how to react.

"what's a poetry competition?"

his ears go a little red, and he chuckles, with surprise.

"it's a..." he adjusts his headband although there's no need for it, then it comes: a boyish grin. "concubine competition. the only game where those who win, they, you know. get into the", he stabs behind with his thumb.

"what's the game?" you wonder, "whoever writes the best poem about his beautiful eyes?"

"no", he laughs out, "it's just a euphemistic name. they need to use their tongues. there's this little box", he gestures in the air, trying to get you the full picture, while your face grows longer and longer, "with this intricate opening on top, more like a slit, and there's a pea inside that they need to get out to the exit of the box".

you move your jaw sideways.

"it's not for the main crowd. held inside the palace".

"i figure", you grunt. he nods, mildly amused.

"where did you hear about it?"

Seokjin returns and hands Taehyung a rough cup with soju.

"what about me?" you inquire. suddenly you're not in the mood to take any shit.

"eh, little sister. no soju for girls".

"what's that mean, you lizard?"

"why am i a lizard?" Jin erupts.

"girls shouldn't drink", Taehyung smiles kindly. you stand between them and fight off an impulse to punch the cup out of his hand.

"girls", you narrow your eyes, and they both get just a tiny bit intimidated, "shouldn't faint while decorating the whole fucking two storey roof all alone just because somebody's feeling booktok".

Seokjin takes it very seriously for some reason, although he most definitely doesn't get it.

"fair enough. i'll bring you one".

he downs his cup and, by the time Jiyoung is back, you have made a tiny advancement for the gender equality fight in Joseon. when Jin gets relatively drunk, he starts howling songs in that retro voice of his, and you tell him you think he should try music.

the games take the best part of the evening, too. Yoongi is tired, he winces when Seonghyung brushes against his shoulder again, breathing into his cheek, hinting a drinking sparring. his eyes move to Hoseok, and Hoseok reacts immediately.

"get him to his chambers, please, or i'll slice his jugular", he murmurs.

General smirks, and Seonghyung vanishes like a ghost. he tilts his neck, rubs his shoulder. too many smells from too many different people from today, he crunches his nose in satisfaction when he sees his eunich hurrying towards him. the boy falls on the floor in a bow, then picks himself up quickly.

"games are over, my king. shall i bring the women?"

Yoongi nods.

"that's actually, finally, a good idea".

he catches a glimpse of the round moon and a trail of plum blossom scent on the turn of the corridor. the central quarters are quieter, and the noise of the evening preparations doesn't get here. the only steps are his.

Yoongi enters his bedroom where a servant with the ears more sensitive than even Jimin's instantly starts undressing him. her slender quick hands make it seem like the robe falls off of him by itself, while, turning, he doesn't even catch a sight of her. relieved from the heavy attire, he releases his hair as well and shakes his head.

"bath?" she asks. after years of training she has finally learnt to speak shortly and to the point, without long pleasantries.

"later. stay behind the door, you'll lead the girls away, i will only need one tonight".

she nods, the top of her head barely reaching his collarbone.

Yoongi examines all of them with intense scrutiny. the hair, the shape of the heads, the faces, the moles painted on skin under the eyes with a thin brush. the dresses revealing their shoulders and the lines of their stomachs. the eyes. he is looking for a certain stare, for a certain hair colour. for the rolled up sleeves, a bite in between the teeth. no, scratch the last one. tonight, biting is a no. he gets up, sliding a lilac ribbon in between his fingers, that slips easily, calming his mind.

"you", he takes one by the arm. "turn around".

the girl lowers her eyes, her face doesn't change from the unreadable submissive expression. she does as she's told.

"the rest of you can go".

four others leave the room silently, the door slides open and close, and there's misty silence, broken only by the peacocks yapping something from a garden away. what Yoongi hadn't anticipated from them, would be how late those damn birds go to sleep. he releases the hair of the girl from the pin, letting it fall over his hand, and taps the pin on her shoulder. doesn't like when things are in disorder, just lying around. she takes it quietly and tucks into her dress. Yoongi takes the ribbon and braids her hair, weaving it in between the locks. the colour is close enough, everything else is a miss.

he drops one last look at the top of her head and guides it down, then closes his eyes.

taglist: @cerulean1riz , @kiki-zb , @mar-lo-pap , @ashyiiy , @enfppuff , @coolpeanutskeletonpersona , @jajabro

#yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #reader x bts #bts imagine

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