#bts fragmentation

[ctrlsht]

Fragment of the Past 01

pairing: patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader genre: thriller & yandere au

summary: You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

chapter summary: As you get to know your patient, Jeon Jungkook, you begin to notice that something is wrong with him, until the day he confesses to you what really happened during the night of the incident.

chapter warnings: mention of PTSD and depression, mention of hatred towards the family, mention of murder. This chapter is the only chapter that isn’t too heavy. word count: 8K

note: This fiction will contain multiple mental disorders and psychology facts. I conducted my own research to avoid spreading misinformation, but there may be aspects I've overlooked, so I am open for any corrections.

"Dr. Y/N, your next patient is already waiting outside. Shall I invite him in?" Soyeon asked while holding the doorknob, your office door slightly ajar. You leaned back in your swivel chair, glancing at the clock hanging beside the door. Soyeon stood patiently, awaiting your response.

“It’s still 2:30 and my next session is 3 o’clock. He arrived early?” 

“Yes, he did. In fact, he already arrived at 2. Although he mentioned not informing you since it’s still early.” 

You looked at the clock once again and contemplated your decision. You still have 30 minutes before the new session starts but you’re not going to do anything, anyway. Just like your next patient, you’re just waiting for the clock to strike at 3. 

“Let him in. We’ll just start early.”

After a few moments, the door opened once again and a tall muscular man entered the room. His movements are slow like he has all the time in the world and when he faced you, his eyes sparkled, and he offered a subdued smile without revealing his teeth. He removed his black ball cap and extended his hand, presenting you with a box of cake.

“Good afternoon, doc. I’m sorry I’m too early from the original schedule but I got you a strawberry cake. Heard that you love them.” He said.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Thank you and it’s nice to see that you’re in a good mood, Jungkook.” You smiled and reached the box of cake that he gave you. He smiled even wider as he removed his leather jacket and you immediately saw his full sleeve tattoo on his right arm. They were beautiful. It perfectly suits him. 

“Thanks, doc. I’m happy that I didn’t dream about ‘that’ nightmare and I believe it’s because of the medicine that you prescribe me. You help me a lot.” He responds, sitting on the white sofa facing your desk.

When he is settled down on the couch in front of your office table, you press the ‘record’ button of your phone. You record your session with your patient for your advantage. It helps you review and recall  the discussion that you had with them, and it’s useful whenever you’re writing a book. Having the recordings allows you to convey your words more precisely.

Of course, you always ask for their consent to record the conversation. However, there are patients who do not agree with it, and in such cases, you still record them. They wouldn't know, would they?

“Well, that’s good to know.” You said and got the folder placed on the side of your table and opened it. It’s the record of him for you to easily navigate his diagnoses. “Are you still visiting the gym like I’ve recommended to you?” 

“Yes I do and it helps me to distract my mind to what happened. Going back to the gym helps me a lot, honestly. It’s hard to push myself to go back at first but as I was in there, it became easier.” His smile is like a pill that can light anyone’s mood. It is so bright and contagious. No one will guess that he suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. He witnessed how his mother died in front of him exactly six months ago and he suffers a lot. He’s unable to talk for weeks after the incident happened and was advised to attend psychotherapy. 

Right now, he has made significant progress, and you're glad about it. Throughout your sessions with him, you've observed how he copes with his trauma and understands what's going on in his mind. It's a major trauma for him to witness what happened to his mother. According to studies, women are more likely to develop PTSD than men, and you've handled multiple cases with women experiencing PTSD. However, in your years in this career, he is the only man you've treated with this specific diagnosis. It's a new experience for you, especially since it's your first encounter with a male patient with this condition. You've conducted extensive research, but there are still things your patient does that contradict what you've read.

“During the weekends, I spend all night reading your book, Dr. Y/N and it helps me so much. Plus, it’s good and I love it. I can’t wait for you to release the book that you’re writing right now. When did you plan on releasing them?” He crosses his legs as he looks at you with so much adoration. 

“I haven’t finished writing it so I haven’t planned the date of release.” you replied, turning your attention back to the folder in your hand. “I’m glad that my books help you. Do you think that you’ve already overcome your trauma with the event that happened?” You looked at him and the smile that he had seconds ago was gone. His lips were formed into a straight line and he stared at you. It only happens for seconds and he immediately brings his bright expression once again.

“I’m not quite sure about that, Dr. Y/N. I may be happy right now, but later on, I’ll remember the tragic event once again.” He responded. 

“It’s okay. It really happens. Healing from your trauma doesn’t happen in a short period of time. But eventually, you’ll be okay. It may not be right now nor tomorrow but one day,” you assured him.

“Will you leave me after I completely heal, Doc?” he leaned forward, his gaze intense.  You didn’t respond right away and waited if he’s about to add more with his statement but turns out, he’s also waiting for your response.

“Well, that’s quite the opposite, Jungkook. You’ll be the one to leave me after our final session comes to an end.” You tried to smile. “And as your doctor, I genuinely want you to heal and move on to continue living with your life.” 

“Then I’m not quite sure if I’ll be happy for our final session to come to an end.”

You achieved success as a psychiatrist and book author within just four years of your career. Your excellence in your work is a result of the praises you've received from people. You've built a strong reputation and you're determined to maintain it. While you may be at the top now, you know there's still a long road ahead. You're committed to continuing to excel in what you do and to break numerous records.. 

The day has finally ended and you are still inside your office room as you continue on writing your ongoing book. The paradox of choice. You’ve released three books and this is going to be your fourth one. You’ve been pouring your blood, sweat and tears in every book that you’ve released resulting in its success and you’re confident that this ongoing book will be the same. 

You have nothing else to do except to work 24/7. You’ve been doing this for the past four years already and you have no problem with it. In fact, you love everything you do. But there are people who’s against your life cycle. 

As you type on your laptop, your phone chimes, seeing a notification from your friend, Taehyung. He's been your friend since you were in diapers.

Taehyung: You’re not at home. Where are you?

You: Clinic. Why?

Taehyung: what the. At this hour?

You didn’t respond because you figured out that he doesn’t have anything to do but to disturb you and honestly, you don’t have the time for that. 

Taehyung: Join me for dinner. It’s on me.

You: Can’t you eat by yourself and you have to treat me just for you to have dinner?

Taehyung: You talked as if we’re not friends. Come on, Y/N. I know you love your job but don’t wait until you are the one who becomes a patient.

Taehyung doesn’t understand you. You’re doing what you love and you don’t have a problem with it yet he thought that you were drowning yourself with work. You can choose what you want and you choose to burn yourself from work. You don’t have any problems with it. 

You decide to fix your things and get ready for Taehyung to pick you up. As much as you love your career, you also cherish your friendship with him. He's your only friend, and you don't want to lose him. You've come to consider him as family.

“My father is asking me again if I can now run the business in New York." Taehyung said as he got the pork belly from the grill and placed it in his bowl of rice before he put it together in his mouth. 

“Tell him you haven't decided." You respond subconsciously while wrapping the pork in the lettuce and eat it. 

“What amazing advice coming from a therapist herself.” Taehyung smirked.

"What is your decision then?"

"I don't really know, Y/N." He released a deep breath and continued. "I do want to manage it but I can't. I love what I'm doing right now."

Since his teenage years, Taehyung has been destined to inherit his father's assets, including the family company. However, Taehyung chose a different path and became a successful musician and artist. He's content with his career until his father reminds him of his obligation to take over the family's oil company in New York. He has been wrestling with this difficult situation for years and has yet to find a solution.

“Try to do both.” You suggest while having a mouthful of pork belly. 

“I don’t know if you’re fucking with me or what but damn, Y/N. If you’re my therapist, I’ll immediately leave your clinic and find another one.” Taehyung rolled his eyes and you tried not to laugh. "I can't choose both and you know that!" 

You do want to help your friend to get out of this situation but the only thing you can do is give emotional and moral support because you don't have control over his family. You do feel sorry for him but you can't do much. 

"The conflict between personal desires and altruistic choices has been common in dealing with ethical dilemmas. Choosing a decision between what you want and what your father wants that will be beneficial for the majority is quite a difficult situation and you need to weigh them according to how you see it. Your father has been there for you and in return, he wants you to handle his business not only for the benefit of him but also for you." You pause and take a bite of kimchi before you continue. "But you wanted to keep pursuing the career you have right now. It's a personal gain. It's up to you if you become selfish or selfless." 

Many researchers have presented real-life ethical dilemmas and case studies to understand how people navigate decisions that involve personal desires and the welfare of others. These studies often highlight the complexity and context-dependency of such choices which is what Taehyung is experiencing right now. 

If you were to decide with his situation, you'd choose to continue with his career that he has right now. Life is too short to become selfless. What society makes people believe can result in each and everyone's failure. 

If he chooses to do what his father wants, it won't guarantee success, as he has no clue about running their business. And even if he manages to muster the passion to understand how it works, he might not only fail himself but also disappoint his father.

You ended the night with Taehyung bringing you back to the clinic to get your car. It was nice catching up with him once in a while and hopefully, it won't happen often. Taehyung has known you since forever and he knows that even if you love him, you will still choose your work over him. 

You were about to open the door of the driver seat of your car when you felt something. Or more of someone. 

You don't hear any noise coming from afar or nearby and you're certain that you're the only one who is at the parking lot in front of the clinic but you feel like there is a pair of eyes that's watching you. You're facing the two-story building of the clinic and catch sight of anyone but the only thing you see is a light coming from the entrance and nothing else. 

You slowly turn around to see the surroundings and the only thing you see is a quiet night street illustrated by a few streetlights. There is no one, yet you can still feel that pair of eyes looking at you. 

You weren't sure if it's because of overworking or the alcohol you've consumed tonight but you're certain that one of it is the reason why you are having this kind of imagination. 

—

“Good morning, Yunjin. You look pale today. What’s wrong?” You looked at your patient that’s seated across the sofa in front of you. Her lips were paper thin and she continuously blinked her eyes. Yunjin is a 25-year old diagnosed with persistent depressive disorder and she's been your patient for a year already. Being diagnosed with depression can cause a lot of factors including imbalances in brain chemicals like serotonin and norepinephrine. These imbalances can occur in anyone, regardless of their external circumstances. In Yunjin’s situation, it’s caused by her genes and hormones and most likely, she inherited from her family.

Yunjin came from a well known family and her life is what every person dreams to have. She already has everything yet she still suffers with depression. 

Not because a person has a wealthy and happy life doesn’t mean they do not encounter problems. 

“It’s happening again. I’ve lost track of my motivation to continue painting.” She speaks hoarsely. “Last week, I’m pouring all my hardwork and energy into what I’m working on but now, I’ve messed up. And I don’t even know why I am doing this because my work is mediocre in the first place.”

“You know that’s not true, Yunjin. Your paintings are amazing. I love them so much, especially the one you gave me.” You said carefully.

“No, you don’t understand. My works are trash compared to others.” Her voice is already trembling—on the verge of crying.

“Everyone has a unique and creative way to express their works. Not because you think that the works of others are more creative means yours are not. Your paintings are a masterpiece, Yunjin and I won’t get tired of reminding you about that.”

Yunjin is one of your patients who is incredibly transparent. She is consistently honest and open about her feelings, and you have played a significant role in nurturing this honesty.  Over your years of being a psychotherapist, you’ve encountered thousands of patients with different problems and diagnosis. You’ve known the ins and outs of them and you’ve mastered the meaning of every action they’ve made and words they’ve said. You also know if they’re telling the truth or not and you can spot it within a single session. 

That’s what you’re known—for being an excellent psychiatrist. 

However, you’re not yet perfect and still working with your skills. You know that you’re already great but there is still room for improvement. 

Not because you’re confident with how you read your patients means that it’s the truth. Sometimes, they deceive you and that’s a case that you have to improve with yourself.

It’s almost five and a few moments from now, you’ll have your last patient for the day. The truth is, you’re already exhausted with all the work you did today and given that it’s friday. Tomorrow, it’s a rest day, therefore, things should be done until today if you want to enjoy the weekend. But in your case, you’ll most probably work with the book you’re currently writing. 

Jeon Jungkook is your last patient for the day and hopefully, after the session, both of you will feel relief. 

“Hello, Dr. Y/N. You look so tired. Are you okay?” Jungkook asked you as he removed his bomber jacket revealing his full sleeve tattoo. He has a taste in fashion and it suits him so well. With his tall and muscular body, he can wear anything and still look stunning. Beside his body build, Jungkook is handsome. With his beautiful doe eyes and perfect smile, he can captivate anyone. And it’s something that you should be cautious about. 

“I’m fine, Jungkook. You don’t have to worry about me.” You slightly smile and insist him to sit on the sofa. “Please take a seat. How are you?” You try to energize your voice to hide your exhaustion. 

"Today was supposed to be great until one of my employees messed around at work. His name is Bryan, and ever since he got hired, he's been getting on my nerves. If it weren't for the fact that he's my uncle's son, I would have fired him right from the beginning," he began, settling into his seat.

“What happened?”

“He lost the memory card of the camera I used from the photoshoot yesterday and now, we had to redo the shoot.” His eyebrows scrunch as he tightens his lips. 

“Your feelings are valid, Jungkook. It’s okay to feel that way. What you can do to control your emotions when you’re in that situation is to leave and take a break where you can breathe.”

“You’re right. But now, I feel okay. Relief even. I just fired him from being incompetent. Someone like him doesn’t belong in my studio, anyway.”

You take a pause to look at him. He looks at you with a blank stare and when he does that, he’s unbothered or doesn’t care. You admit that he’s not easy to read but you’ve learned to master his gesture and there is something about him that feels off. 

“Can you tell me why his action results in you firing him?”

“Because he’s useless and I don’t need useless people in my team.” He responds like the answer is already obvious.

“Don’t you think that he can improve?” His gaze intensifies and after a moment, he smirks.

“My studio is not a training ground, Dr. Y/N. It’s a place where you should already master what you’re doing.” His fingers move in his lips to play with it, eyes still bore at you.

“I’ve established my business from the scratch and I’ve poured my blood sweat and tears just for my business to be in where it is now. Perhaps, I have the right to do anything that's better for my studio. I know what my worth is. Don’t you think, Dr. Y/N?” 

He’s full of himself. But you didn’t say that.

“Well, you have a point, Jungkook. But you’re the one who said it. Your studio is made from scratch and perhaps, you know what being in your lowest point feels like.” You try to smile genuinely. “It’s okay to know your worth and at the same time, look back where you came from.” You looked at his medical records and proceeded. “How’s your condition? Are you still experiencing anxiety?”

“30 minutes ago. When I was traveling to get here.” 

“Why? What’s running in your mind?” He wiggled his ankle and continued to play with his lips, thinking of the answer.

“I was nervous during the ride. I don’t know but sometimes, you make me feel nervous.” He let out a playful chuckle. 

“Why?”

“The fact that you knew everything about me makes me feel something. You’ve known everything about me yet I don’t know a single thing about you.” You don’t understand what's his point so you try to laugh to ease the heavy feeling you feel right now.

“Of course, you knew me, Jungkook. You’ve mentioned that you knew me even before the session started.” You give him a smile and you put down the folder that you are holding right now.

"Yeah, I know you, Doc. Everyone knows you. I'm aware of everything that's public about you. What I want to know is who Dr. Y/N is without her MD and PhD. What do you do during your days off, and what are your hobbies besides helping people with their problems?" He glanced at the wall beside you, where a painting of you hangs. It's a picture of you that people can see in your books, a gift from Yunjin. 

You’ve known Jeon Jungkook with his traumas and all however, you don’t know what he’s up to right now. He entered your clinic being a fragile person with his traumas and right now, it felt like you’re talking to another person. Maybe because this is him without his diagnosis. 

And you don’t know how to feel about it. 

—

It’s a photoshoot day for a magazine featuring you as a doctor and an author as well. It’s a media organization focusing on psychology and human behavior and you’re delighted to be featured for the upcoming magazine. You’ve already featured in some magazine but this time, it’s different because it’s ‘Psychology Today.’ 

You’re now on your way going to the studio with your team along with your agent, Kim. You seem to look calm and relax but deep down, nervousness is wrapping your insides. It is by far the biggest media organization where you will be featured and it’s another achievement of yours. 

As you get out of your car, you weren’t surprised that the location where the photoshoot is going to be held is this enormous. It’s a four-story building located at the center of the city. You’re not sure if the media organization also owns this but as you looked at the name of the building, it looks like it isn’t.

GCF Studio

As you enter the building, you are greeted by enthusiastic guards and staff, which motivates you even more for this shoot with them. The interior is minimalist, with the entire first floor being plain white. When you walk through the glass door, the first thing you see is the reception desk. To the right, there are couches and a coffee table where people can wait, and to the left, there's a cafeteria. You walk straight ahead toward the elevator, and one of your assistants presses the button for the third floor.

As the elevator door opened, you were greeted by a hallway with various doors, clearly indicating it's a working area where the shoot takes place. You walk a few steps before entering through double doors, where you find a bustling room filled with people busy at work. It resembles a dressing room but on a larger scale, with various outfits hanging, and several vanity mirrors where people can prepare for their shoot. It's fantastic.

“Good morning Dr. Y/N. Before we proceed with the shoot, I’d like to discuss with you what look you’ll be having for today. You also have full control of what you would like to look at and we’re here to assist you.” You are greeted by a young male with full of feminine energy. He’s tall and petite wearing a white blouse and a sweater that is hanging on his shoulder. He leads the way and you smile before you follow him. 

You’ve thought that this photoshoot will only take an hour of your time but you’re wrong because an hour just passed and they were still dressing you up. You didn’t feel uncomfortable because everyone is approachable and enthusiastic. They made you feel that you’re indeed their client. 

After an hour and a half of preparation, you finally entered the photoshoot studio, and once again, you found many people inside. You're not entirely sure about each person's specific role here, but everyone is clearly occupied. 

But the atmosphere immediately changed when the door swung open. It was chaotic seconds ago and right now, everyone is silent looking at the person who just entered. 

You saw a familiar figure. His tall and muscular figure is very familiar to you. He’s wearing a black slacks and a casual long sleeve polo that’s folded up until his elbow where you can clearly see half of his tattoo while his hair is pulled back. 

Jeon Jungkook is undeniably handsome and he knows it. 

“What’s this chaos? I told you that once I’ve entered the studio, everything should be ready.” His voice was threatening as he spoke with authority. A side of him that you’re not surprised to see. 

What surprised you is the fact that he’s inside of the studio. 

What is he doing here?

Everyone works silently as if they were being oppressed in their workplace. They were enthusiastic and approachable seconds ago and it all changed when he entered inside. 

“Good morning, Dr. Y/N. It wasn’t obvious how you look surprised to see me here, aren’t you?” Jungkook gave you a boastful smile like he doesn’t look threatening a few moments ago. 

A sign of bipolar disorder.

“Welcome to GCF Studio where there is no room for failure.”

You will be working with one of your patients and you’re not even aware of that.

Ethically, there is nothing wrong with working with your patients outside the session but you aren’t fond of that. The idea of working with your patient outside the session doesn’t suit you and particularly with the patient that is in front of you right now. 

You haven’t thought of the reason why but you just don’t. 

Everything is already set up, and you are now behind the backdrop while Jungkook is holding the camera, ready to capture everything. You're confident in the outcome of this shoot, but at this moment, it feels like everything is crashing down at your feet. Everyone is looking at you with high hopes for the result of this photoshoot, and you wouldn't want to ruin it.

“Smile for me, Y/N.”

—

You don’t know how you manage to end the photoshoot smoothly knowing that Jungkook is making you uncomfortable. You were mad at yourself because you don’t know why you felt that way. He isn’t doing anything but to do his job in taking a photo of you. 

Now that you're home, you don't have anything to be distressed about when thinking about what happened during the shoot.

You have to admit that there is something wrong with his words and actions. There are signs that he’s becoming manipulative and a sudden change of mood. He's self-absorbed and lacks remorse for others. You’ve been thinking that there are other diagnoses with his actions and behaviors however, you cannot suddenly show up and tell what other illness he has. You still have to observe your sessions with him. 

You have now freshen up and are ready to rest but you decide to visit your office to check your schedule for tomorrow and the following days. You only have one patient for tomorrow and most of your schedules are meetings. Before you log out, you glance at the folder of Jungkook in your patient list and you click it subconsciously. 

Jeon Jungkook, 31-year old male who suffers from PTSD, after surviving an extremely traumatic incident.

He witnessed his mother die in front of him and aside from that, he was also shot in his left thighs twice. And it happens in the comfort of their home. 

The suspect? A loan shark who’s coming for his mother. 

There are a lot of questionable things that happened during the incident and one of them is how come that he always claimed to have a successful business while his mother is buried in debt? He also claimed that he doesn’t know about the debt of his mother. There are several inconsistencies in his story but the bottom line is, the loan shark surrendered and is now in maximum security prison for murdering his mother.

You transfer the recordings you made over the following days to your computer and listen to one of them, specifically the conversations you had with Jungkook.

You have 12 sessions in total with him and you have 5 more sessions left before it finally comes to an end. You don’t count the remaining number of sessions with your patient until now.

—

You love to read books during your free time, However, it most likely does not happen due to your busy schedule. But right now, you take a break from everything and decide to go on a date with yourself. You don’t normally take a break but you’re becoming busier than usual and you don’t want to risk your health because you know that there are a lot of people that need you. 

You’re not a fan of going out and you prefer to stay at home and rest but getting out of your comfort zone won’t hurt you. You decided to visit your favorite cafe and do your thing there. You dislike rowdy places, that’s why you went early in the morning where people are still in the comfort of their bed.

You underestimate the morning and how you’re used to people getting up mostly before lunch yet there are people who also like you—waking up at 6 in the morning to get a morning coffee in their favorite cafe. 

“Dr. Y/N! You’re here!” You lift your head to see Jeon Jungkook standing in front of you with his bright smile while holding a cup of coffee. 

Among all the people you could meet here, you don't understand why it had to be him.

“Jungkook. I didn’t know you’re here.” You try to return the smile and you almost fail when he sits in front of you. 

He’s wearing a casual polo shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. Unlike the last time you saw him, every strand of his hair is falling into a harmonious arrangement. It looks so soft and suits him well. He looked effortlessly handsome as usual. 

“Just grab a coffee and then, I saw you.” He smiles sweetly before he gazes down at the book you’re reading. “I don’t know why I am surprised that you like reading books even for the fact that you’re an author.” 

"I read when I have time," you respond. "How are you?" you add, trying to steer the conversation away from yourself.

“I’m doing amazing. I’m continuing to write in my journal like what you suggest. It does help me a lot, Dr. Y/N.” He takes a sip from his coffee as he gets comfortable in his seat. He’s not leaving any moment now.

“That’s good. Journaling really works.” You just said whatever is in your mind because you’re thinking of an excuse to leave. 

“That’s right. But we’re not in the session right now, Doc. We don’t always have to talk about me.” He leans backward as he glances at your book once again. “The four agreements. I’ve read that book before. It’s good. You’re really into self-help books, aren’t you? You like to write and read about them.”

“Yes. It does help me to improve my writing. How about you? I didn’t know that you also read nonfiction books.”

“I started to read because of your books, Doc.” He looks at your eyes filled with tenderness, traced the curves of your face as if he's memorizing it.

He’s been looking at you like that lately as if he wants you to drown with the way he stares. The way he looks at you carries an underlying tone, and truthfully, that's one of the reasons why you've become uncomfortable around him.

“I’m glad that I’ve encouraged you to read books.” You answer while looking at your wrist watch hoping that he understands that you wanted to leave already. 

“Your photos from the last time were amazing. Our team has already sent you the soft copy. Did you receive it?” You do but you didn’t tell him.

“I haven’t seen it but I’ll check it out later.” You looked at your wrist watch once again.

“Yeah, you should. They were amazing. You’re stunning as always.” His eyes twinkled but you didn’t notice that.

“I want to thank you and your team for working hard on this shoot. I do appreciate it so much.” you smile and look at your wrist watch for the last time. “I’m afraid that I have to leave you right now. I already have to go home.”

“That fast? We haven’t talked a lot, Doc.” He fixed you with a steadfast gaze and you were caught off-guard. You’re thinking of what to respond but you were out of words. After a few seconds, he chuckles. “I was just kidding, Doc. I know how busy you are and I understand that.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I apologize, Jungkook. There are a lot of things that I have to do. But I’ll see you on tuesday.” 

“You don’t have to apologize because I understand. Yes, I’ll see you on Tuesday, Dr. Y/N.”

—

Tuesday came and you just woke up yet you already wanted to end this day. It’s strange that you haven’t properly started your day but you already feel heavy to move forward. Yesterday was exhausting for all the work you’ve done and you didn’t get home until 10pm, however, it doesn’t justify your heavy feeling right now. You’ve experienced worse so you don’t understand why you feel this way.

As you make your way to the clinic, you receive numerous work-related calls, and you're already feeling tired from answering them. However, you have no choice but to attend to them.

“Good morning, Dr. Y/N. Your first patient has already arrived. Do you want me to let him wait inside your office or here in the lobby?” The receptionist spoke on the other line. 

“You can let him in. I’m almost there.” When the traffic light turns green, you already move. “Is it Mr. Park?” You asked.

“No. It’s Mr. Jeon, Doc.” 

Damn. That’s why the morning feels heavy.

As you arrive inside your office, you spot Jungkook in the corner looking at the frames that are standing in the chest drawers. The air conditioner is already on–Soyeon the receptionist must have turned it on. He immediately turned his head towards you when you opened the door and greeted you with his charming smile. 

“Good morning, Dr. Y/N. I thought you'd take longer to arrive because the receptionist already let me in.” He greeted and walked his way towards the sofa–where your patient normally sits. 

“I was stuck in the traffic. You know, morning rush hour.” You responded as you placed your things on your office table. 

Jungkook is a punctual person. He may arrive early or on time but he is never late. If you count the things that you like about him, you’re counting nothing because that’s the only thing you like about him.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you asked him when you get comfortable with your seat. You press the record button on your phone that's hidden from him.

“Bad. I met my father last night and I wish I didn’t.” He brushed his hair back and slouched on his seat. 

It's the first time he mentioned his father at the beginning of a conversation because he never does unless you ask about it. From his descriptions, his father seems like a terrible person. He never fulfilled his role as a father, often creating conflicts with his mother. His family life seems chaotic, and you believe it might be one of the reasons he's become the person he is today.

“Why did you meet him?” 

“He just showed up to my house without permission to talk about bullshit. My life is already at peace and he’s ruining it.” His jaw tightened.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your eyes locked into him as you try reading his mind. You know that every patient that walks into your office has different problems in life and they are sometimes hard to predict but this man in front of you is something else. There is something in him that you couldn’t understand. 

“No. He’s a waste of time. He’s really… Okay, I’ll talk about him briefly. He’s a horrible person and he doesn’t deserve to be a father to me. I never got to experience the love from a father because the only thing that he gave me is hatred. He always gets drunk and gamble and he cheated with my mom multiple times. I’m not going to be surprised when I find out that I have other siblings from different mothers. He’s the worst person I’ve known.”

You find his explanation vague but you didn’t think much about it and you let him continue.

“Do you have other instances where you see the different side of your father? Something that makes him a person to you?” You asked.

“None. Even during childhood. Especially now that he only wants money from me. He and mother are very similar to each other. Maybe that’s why they end up together. They both pissed me off and even though my mother is not here anymore, I can remember her because of my shitty father.”

You were taken aback with what he just said. He never badmouthed his mother until now. When he discussed his mother, there is nothing else he said rather than how he misses her and how she’s a great mother to him. 

But you didn’t say anything about it and let him elaborate what he just said. 

“Do you think that your parents do the same thing?” You asked–hoping that he doesn’t suspect your question.

“Yeah. They may be doing it in different ways of being a shitty person but they are the same for being useless parents.” He puts his index finger on his lips and slowly rubs it while resting his elbow on the arm rest, looking at you with intensity. 

You’re finding a word to say but you found nothing. You wanted to look away but it would indicate that he caught you off-guard. 

You saw a glimpse of his demonic character for a second. His eyes that had once been warm and inviting, now bore into you with an unnerving intensity as if trying to peer into your soul.

He spoke once again and his voice took on a low, whispery, and the words that slipped from his lips sent chills down your spine.

"Maybe that's why she died. Now, I wonder when my father will be next."

—

You're standing on the side of the street embracing the subtle chill in the air as the city lights painted the night with different colors. People are walking by and snippets of hushed conversations drifted on the breeze while the flow of traffic added to the scene with vehicles weaving through the crowd.

You don’t know why Taehyung is taking so long to arrive. You’ve been waiting for him on the sidewalk for 10 minutes already when in fact, he should have been here 30 minutes ago. You’re going to come with him on his event show because he’s been annoying you for the whole week to come with him and for him to stop, you just agreed.

What pisses you off more is that he's running late, and your stomach is growling. You haven't had dinner because Taehyung assured you that he'd swing by the drive-thru to grab something for you to eat.

You're waiting for Taehyung, but someone else showed up in front of you.

“Dr. Y/N, hi!” You met Jeon Jungkook’s eyes with his bright and warm smile. He’s wearing a gray hoodie and skinny jeans that fit him perfectly. You looked in the surroundings of him if he's with someone and it seems that there’s none. 

“Hello, Jungkook. You’re heading somewhere?” You gave him a warm smile that hopefully, doesn’t look like it’s forced.

“Yeah. I’m going out for dinner. I was actually in that building,” He pointed out the building behind you and it looked like a law firm office. “I already saw you when I entered there but I didn’t have the chance to greet you because I’m in a hurry and now, you’re still here.” He glances at the road and returns his eyes to you. “You’re waiting for someone?” 

“Uhm, yeah. I am.” You looked at your phone to see if Taehyung had a message but there’s none.

“You’ve been here for a couple of minutes already. Are you sure that they are still going to make it here?” 

“Yeah. Maybe they—

You were taken aback when your stomach started to growl and heck, it’s so loud that you want the grounds to eat you alive. You were sure that your face was burning red and you couldn’t bear to make eye-contact with him as your gaze fixed elsewhere.

 You glance at him as a soft chuckle rumbles in his throat. “I already hate the person that keeps you waiting in hunger. You know what, I’d love to treat you for dinner with me and drive you to your destination afterwards. Or we can just go to a drive-thru.” If he’s someone else, maybe you will consider his offer. 

“No, it’s okay Jungkook. You don’t have to do that.” You glance at your phone to pretend that someone messages you. “My friend is already on his way. You can go.” 

“Your friend of yours is really something else. What kind of man is he for making you wait for so long on the street with your stomach empty?” His voice took on a sharp edge as his eyebrows knitted together.

“I’m really fine. You don’t have to think about me.” You force a smile as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

“I insist, Dr. Y/N. I really want to treat you for being there for me during my worst days. You help me a lot and I want to get you something to show my appreciation. It’s nothing big and I will be guilty if I just leave you here.” 

“I really appreciate your gesture, Jungkook, but I have other plans. Maybe next time?” You smile hoping that he understands that you don’t really want to go with him.

“With the same guy that made you wait in the cold air? Oh come on, Doc. You know better.” He spoke in a pompous tone, as if he proved that Taehyung is a horrible guy.

“You can make up to me some other time. I’m really–

You haven’t finished your sentence when Taehyung’s audi arrives beside you and he instantly gets out to meet your gaze.

“Y/N! I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. The traffic is so heavy.” He didn’t notice Jungkook until he opened the passenger’s seat and slowly glanced beside you. Jungkook released a sarcastic laugh and glared at Taehyung.

“What a surprise that Kim Taehyung–a famous musician and artist let a lady wait in the cold breeze with an empty stomach. I didn’t know that you’re such a gentleman, Taehyung.” He spoke in a mocking tone as Taehyung looked at him in confusion. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“You wouldn’t want to know.” He arched a brow before he returned his gaze to you. “If you really insist on being with this guy, then I’ll leave you already. I just hope that he won’t completely ruin your precious night.” He said before he finally turned around and walked away–placing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. When he’s already out of sight, you turn your head to Taehyung and glare at him.

“What?” You suddenly smack his chest before you hopped in the car.

“Damn you.”

—

It didn't take long before Jungkook was back, sitting on the couch in front of you. You’ve realized that your day always feels heavy every Tuesday of the week and that is whenever you’re going to have a session with him. 

You've tried to shake off the discomfort you feel when he's in front of you because you regret thinking of him differently from your other patients, but every time you try, he makes it worse.

“Are you taking your medicines I’ve prescribed you?” You scan his record file that you’re holding. 

“Yeah. I consistently take them, Doc.” He responded as he smugly looked at you and before you think of negative thoughts of him, you already returned your gaze back to the folder.

“Are you still having nightmares during your sleep?” He didn’t instantly respond like he’s thinking about the question carefully.

“I do. I still do, Dr. Y/N. But it wasn’t worse, unlike what I have for the last months.” 

“Then it’s a good sign. You’re now improving. Are you still thinking about the incident?” You give him a genuine smile while he slowly crosses his legs and places both of his arms on the arm rest.

“Yes, but not as frequently as before. I love my mother so much but I’ve learned to let her go and accept the fate she has. Afterall, it was her fault.” He was looking at the painting that Yunjin had given you as he answered. He doesn’t have much of a reaction but his last sentence caught your attention.

“Why do you think that it’s her fault?” You ask in your soft voice.

“You see, my mother isn’t the perfect mother and she has her mistakes and sometimes, she doesn’t learn from them. She keeps doing the same thing until she has to pay for it and that costs her life.” He responded.

“Do you want to talk about the mistakes that your mother made?” He smiled and played with his lips once again. You’ve noticed that he’s doing that if he finds something funny or there are things that he knows and you don’t.

“But we will take forever if we discuss it right now, Dr. Y/N. But if you’re really interested, we can talk about it over dinner. You promised me last time that you’ll come with me for dinner.” You mentally rolled your eyes with his statement. Here he goes again.

“Not right now. I still have a lot of things to do but we can talk about other things like how great your mother is.” You said and he laughed—as if your statement is absurd. You try to not raise your brows with his action and behavior. 

“Let's not talk about that, either.”

You were doing your best to understand his actions and statements but there is something in him that you haven’t seen. Something that will answer everything

“But I will tell you how I see my mother during the incident.” He leaned forward and intertwined his fingers “When my mother is kneeling and begging for her life, I was thinking that ‘damn. It’s really happening, isn't it?’. And when the trigger was pulled, the world stopped. And after a few moments, I felt a sense of relief and before I knew it, I was shot as well.” His voice was soft and light as if he’s confessing something that he should have confessed before. 

You felt a shiver down your spine as the creeping horror crawled along your arms, raising goosebumps. You held unflinching eye contact, determined to keep your composure and hide the discomfort and fear you felt.

“Where were you when your mom was being shot?” You asked as you held your breath.

This question is already asked during the investigation. ‘I’m in the living room, 10 feet away from her. When I saw her  position and situation, I immediately ran towards her but it was too late because before I even reached her, she was already shot in the chest. It didn’t take 10 seconds of my life before I was shot as well’.

But you still ask him once again. Away from the detectives.

“I was there, I told you.” 

“Yes, but in what position?” Your hands are already trembling. 

“I was standing,” He took a deep breath before he continued. His next sentence didn’t surprise you because it was something you already expect but trying to deny it to yourself, and it terrifies you, so much that you thought that this may be your last day.

“After I was shot, I collapsed, along with the gun I was holding.” 

a/n: I'm almost done with the whole series so I've decided to post the first part. I hope you'll like this new fic because I enjoy writing it! I am open for comments to further improve my works. Have a nice day everyone!

taglist: @iloverubberduckiez-blog @kingofbodyrolls @fangirl-death-rose @looneybleus @softie00

[jmdbjk]

Looking back and forward.

2023 was one for the books.

It is Thursday, Dec. 7 where I am... Friday, Dec. 8 in Korea.

It is the last Friday for Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook to be civilians. This is their last weekend to spend in their homes, at the company to work, running along the river, doing boxing workouts, ordering delivery food, loving on their dogs, doing the things they've been doing the last over ten years. It will be about 100 days until they get time off and can maybe spend some time back at home.

They are tying up loose ends, getting their shit together, preparing to put their lives on hold.

They will return to us in mid-June 2025.

I've watched their last group live several times after the english subs were up. There were a lot of things I saw and I have a lot of mixed emotions about it all.

None of us know these men, we are observers and all we know is what they choose to show us. Unfortunately, they can't control every single thing and people and the media insist on prying and publishing images and things about them that lead to unconfirmed rumors and misinformation.

In the approximately 38 minutes they shared with us, they conveyed that they are getting ready to go, they seemed in positive spirits. They conveyed that they were still working on things for us (except Jungkook).

They said there was A LOT of content coming, so much... they've NEVER ever reassured us like this before.

They asked fans to NOT show up at the induction site out of respect for the other men and their families also entering the military those days. They explicitly said "we are their face and to do them proud."

During this live, I saw Tae being the fantastically funny guy that he is. Tae was alight with excitement. He was anxious to learn from his fellow soldiers. He is a flower waiting to bloom. And seeing his friendship with Jimin maturing, flourishing, same age friends forever was wonderful.

And Namjoon trying to keep up with the crazy shenanigans of the maknae line. Trying to be the voice of reason: "it'll go by quick, we've left a lot of content. Jin will be back soon. We'll all get strong." But there seemed to be a bit of push and pull between he and Jimin... it was interesting. But he was lighthearted, positive, going into with an open mind. Get in, get out, get back to work.

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin... There was a bit of resignation wrapped up in Jimin's positivity. He wouldn't agree that it would go by fast and he didn't want to show himself with the buzz cut. I wanted to reach through the screen and hold his hand and reassure him we'd be here waiting and that we know it's hard to leave everything right now to do this. This man lives to do work on his passion. He's already had to stop once. Now he has to do it again. I think he is going into his MS kicking and screaming because he does not want to leave his youth behind. It is unfinished.

He said he had been sick. He coughed, sneezed and sniffled the entire live. I hope all of these symptoms have disappeared by Monday/Tuesday. I remember his friend Sungwoon had to delay his enlistment date because he tested positive for covid. Please don't let that happen to any of our four.

During this last group live, I saw a Jungkook that I'd never seen before. His vibe was so in tune to Jimin. I know he's been that way since... 2017? 2018? But this was so in your face I was dumbfounded. Jungkook constantly soothing Jiminie. The things they probably talked about while they were in Japan a few weeks ago, man, to be a fly on the wall.

ALL of those lives he did this past year flashed through my head, how unhinged he was the first few months, falling asleep drunk with the candle, calling out stalkers. ALL those times WE said he was missing Jimin because he was begging him to come eat chicken and drink beer, or come do a boxing workout, or better yet, "let me come over and we can shower together..." No... I meant to say: he can go over to Jimin's and wash up and do a live together. Yes, that's what he said. Beggged him. Tried to use Army as leverage. And all we got was Jimin saying he "can handle it" and "you know how my personality is"...

Jungkook watching all that Jimin content... something happened, some decision was made early in the year. Jungkook embraced it and ran with it.

And to know they are going into the service together, it still has me astonished but it all makes sense now. Y'all... they knew they were going to do this wayyyyyy back, not just in August or September when they applied. Jungkook said back in February (before someone lit a fire under his butt in March to start working on music) that he had to take care of his body for the next year. This has been the plan and Jungkook said "no worries, I got this."

2023 was A LOT.

Jimin, Face: the melodies poured out (as they seem to be free-flowing from him at any given moment) but he had to pry those lyrics out of himself. Jimin achieved a #1 BBHot100. And yes, it appears there were not just one, but TWO of those blasted cakes. I didn't know much about PDogg before Jimin's documentary but now I know how much he supported Jimin during this process.

Yoongi, D-Day: I got to see Yoongi in real life. That weekend flew by for me. One of the best weekends ever. As soon as the concert was over I said out loud, I need to see all seven on that stage. His concert tour filled a void for us. We needed that so bad after last year's gut-wrenching news that there would be no tour. And now he's fulfilling his social service. Let him serve quietly with dignity.

Hobi, Military: after tearfully sending him off, what we hear now is he's cracking the whip, though ever-so empathetically (not to be confused with emphatically) over those new enlistees every day. I need to see his boom chakalaka marching drills. Jimin said when he visited Hobi, he wasn't greeted with his ebullient "Jaman!" but more of a lowkey "oh, you're here."

Jungkook, his solo songs and album: Jungkookie chose to go the route of choosing songs that resonated with him. Over the course of years, Kookie has always shared songs with us. We used to love his song recs and his covers of very poignant songs. He KILLED those songs with his vocals. He did what HE wanted to do. And look how well he did with it, also a #1 BBHot100.

Taehyung, Layover: again, Taehyung did what he wanted to do. Not on his album, but Taehyung singing along with Karen Carpenter was never on my bingo card, ever! (a clip on his Instagram stories where he was singing along to "Close to You")

RM, we kept wondering: why isn't he enlisted yet? Someone had to wrangle the maknae. Not that he ever did that this past year. He cut himself over his left eye and had to get stitches... that's gonna leave a scar. Good thing there are 40 bajillion plastic surgeons in Seoul...

Jin is coming. The Head of Ministry of the Military making the decision that no celeb will be doing anything special, instead they will serve just like regular civilians. Sergeant Kim Seokjin will become civilian Jin of BTS on June 12, 2024.

Their constant looking forward to 2025

Skipping over 2024 for the moment...

BTS has to evolve. They must evolve. They are not going to be a 30 something year old K-pop boy band. Some groups might be stuck but BTS will not stay stagnant, they never have. They have to step forward out of that niche and they have been trying to do that incrementally for a while now. They’ve taken us in baby steps already through chapter 2, and Joon said the REAL chapter 2 will begin when they are back from fulfilling their service.

What will they be like? Will they reinvent themselves? Perhaps, but not overnight. I don’t see any sort of extreme makeover for BTS once they come back together. I do see them addressing more mature topics (as we’ve seen), I do hope we see songwriting from all members.

They don't need to abandon their Korean-ness in order to accomplish this. There is nothing stopping them from being a mainstream artist who just happens to be from Korea and who release songs that are in Korean.

I think the accomplishments that Jungkook achieved will continue to pull BTS out of the K-pop realm and into the main stream Pop music realm. They worked that western market. They got pushback, especially western industry institutions: Billboard and the Grammys. And they learned.

Progress is slow but progress nevertheless. They will cross over to general pop one way or the other. They are not going to stay in the kpop box in the future. Straddle both at the same time. They can do it.

For 2024:

I think comeback/HYYH 10th anniversary reboot is already in the works and has been.

I think PDogg will be working on the songs over the next year. I think they have recorded all this year.

I think when Jin and Hobi get back, they might record their parts. I also am pretty sure we'll see a full-bodied solo effort from Jin and more from Hobi. I think we'll get a ramp up to his discharge with some Hope on the Street content that he recorded before he enlisted.

I think we'll slowly see wheels start turning to get the machine going again much sooner than we imagined.

I think what we see next year will all be primed to pre-promote and whip up the excitement for 2025.

I just feel strongly that Bang PD would NOT have mentioned that specific thing and we would not be hearing the members constantly saying 2025. And especially saying 2025 is not that far in the future and that they are looking forward to the incredible synergy the group will have when they get back together. They've got a lot of work done already. They know already.

They said there is A LOT coming to us.

In about two weeks BTS: Beyond the Star docu-series will begin.

We know we're getting some sort of Jimin and Jungkook traveling content, whether a series or not...I'm leaning toward it being a multi-episode series. Camping? Drinking? Breweries? Beaches? Boating or sailing or both but separate? Fishing? Snow sports? They said it was fun.

We will see activity around all the solo album anniversaries. We still have an RM documentary, a Taehyung documentary and a Jungkook documentary. I bet the latter two will come out towards the end of 2024.

We might have Tae acting, we know he'll be in an IU MV soon.

About aging bangtan ...

Remember when we said this is Bangtan in 20 years?

I joke about it but seriously they are aware that things will be different as they evolve and age as people and as artists.

There are new groups debuting all the time and BTS is aging out of a certain demographic (as they should).

Yoongi saying "cruise with BTS" would be the best case scenario for their future.

I would love to be on that cruise if it ever happens.

[thequietspell]

🕯️entry 01: the time I dreamed him without knowing

I don’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t a dream. It was a thought, a wish, one of those whispered ones, not knowing someone out there might be listening.

I asked for: his age. those eyes. that name. Someone who felt like an echo of someone I once loved, but entirely new. And he appeared. With everything I wished for. And something more— something I didn’t even know to ask for.

Sometimes I wonder if I made him up. Or if I called him, without knowing. As if somewhere in the universe, someone read my letter in silence.

📮🌌 I didn’t dream him asleep. I dreamed him awake. And that made it even more real.

🕯️ entry 01: la vez que lo soñé sin saberlo

No sé cómo explicarlo. No fue un sueño. Fue un pensamiento, un deseo, uno de esos que nacen en voz baja, sin saber que alguien allá afuera lo está escuchando.

Yo pedí: que tenga su edad. que tenga esa mirada. que tenga ese nombre. Que sea como un eco de lo que alguna vez amé pero completamente nuevo. Y apareció. Con todo eso que pedí. Y algo más que no supe pedir pero que igual llegó.

A veces me asusta pensar que lo inventé. O que lo llamé sin saberlo. Como si, en algún rincón del universo, alguien hubiese escuchado mi carta en silencio.

📮🌌 no lo soñé dormida. lo soñé despierta. y eso fue aún más real.

[ihamtmus]

oh ty for telling me about the letter!!

no problem!! i saw a LOT of people circulating just a fragment of his letter and i just hope they can find the full version because it's really lovely! and we got not one but two letters from hobi today 🥹

it was shown during jin's message live but in case anyone missed it, here is the full thing:

(source)

[theskoomacat]

if your AAA survival horror title doesn't include a honest to god musical number don't even fucking bother

[magic-shop-stories]

lazy morning sex bts headcanons please i beg of you 😭

💌 Reply:

hiiii, there 💜 THANK YOU for this request (and for your patience! life’s been a too much lately (well actually just uni assignments and exams) 😭). I hope these headcanons hit the vibe you wanted - if not feel free to reach out again and say the word... ANY FEEDBACK HERE IS GOLD!!! full disclosure: I’m still finding my footing with writing explicit stuff (my anxiety is like pls no explicit, so i tried to focus on the vibes... I mean it's not like I can't write it, but I am a bit afraid to share publicly) – c –💜

BTS x Lazy Morning Intimacy Headcanons 

↳ BTS x f!reader

Pairings: OT7 x fl!Reader (Romantic) Rating: PG-13 (T) Genre: fluff, romance, domestic slice-of-life Warnings: None (mild implied intimacy, affectionate touching, kisses, cuddling, non-explicit)

KIM NAMJOON

= Slow, Thoughtful, and Deeply Connected

MOOD

quiet, rain-soaked mornings

the kind where time feels suspended

gray light filters through linen curtains

world outside hums softly

his energy is unhurried/ reverent

isn’t about urgency

it’s about presence

savors the intimacy like a rare first edition

turning each moment into a page to be annotated

HOW IT STARTS

you stir awake

the weight of his arm draped over your waist

his chest pressed gently against your back

his lips brush the nape of your neck

= warm and lingering

“Good morning, universe.” 

murmurs, voice sleep-rough and soft

hand trails down your arm

fingers intertwining with yours

“Don’t move yet. Just… let me be here.”

PACE

deliberate and unhurried

takes his time mapping your skin with his fingertips

= as if memorizing every freckle/ every curve

his touches are purposeful

thumb grazing your hipbone

palm splayed over your ribcage

his breath steady against your shoulder

believes in process/ the beauty of unfolding

TOUCH

Hands

calloused from writing

gentle in their exploration

traces the dip of your spine like it’s a stanza he’s trying to decipher

Lips

presses kisses to your shoulder blades, your temples, pulse point of your wrist

= each one a quiet affirmation

Forehead

rests his against yours

eyes closed

breathing synced

“This… this is my religion...” 

deep whispers

SOUNDS

rustle of sheets

= when he shifts to cradle your face in his hands

low, content hum

= when you card your fingers through his hair

“Feels like… home...” 

his voice barely audible

soft, fragmented phrases in Korean and English

“You’re so… god, you’re perfect… 어떻게 이렇게 아름다워…”

THINGS HE SAYS

Poetic Praise

“Your skin tastes like stardust. Did you know that?”

Gentle Teasing

“You’re stealing all the blankets. Again. Should’ve written a clause in our contract.”

Raw Honesty

“I don’t know how I got so lucky. To have this… to have you.”

AFTERCARE

brings you a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea

a book of Mary Oliver poems

reads aloud while you curl into his side

his free hand stroking your hair

drapes his oversized hoodie over your shoulders

kissing your forehead

“Wear this. It’s… softer with you in it.”

opens the window to let in the rain-scented air

“Today’s agenda: Nothing. Just… us.”

note: would 100% accidentally knock over a lamp mid-moment, laugh into your neck, and whisper, “Priorities.”

KIM SEOKJIN (JIN)

= Playful, Affectionate, and Full of Laughter

MOOD

golden, sunlit morning

air feels like a warm hug

Jin’s energy is bright and mischievous

blending tenderness with his signature humor

it isn’t just intimacy

it’s a celebration

= a chance to laugh, tease

remind you why he’s Worldwide Handsome (inside and out)

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to the sound of him humming

his fingers softly drumming a rhythm on your hip

pokes your cheek, before you can open your eyes

“Yah, sleeping beauty! Rise and shine... or I’ll start without you.” 

his grin is audible as he nuzzles your ear

breath tickling your skin

“Just kidding. Oppa’s too nice to leave you behind.”

PACE

leisurely but lively

no rush

he’s here to enjoy the moment

= like a chef savoring his favorite dish

alternates between playful teasing and sudden sincerity

keeping you on your toes

one minute he’s blowing raspberries on your shoulder

next he’s cupping your face like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen

TOUCH

Hands

warm and confident

tracing idle patterns on your back

tousling your hair

“Softest human ever. Are you sure you’re not a cloud?”

Lips

plants exaggerated, smacking kisses on your nose, forehead, cheeks

“Stamp of approval. Now you’re officially perfect.”

Cuddles

pulls you into his chest

rocking you slightly like you’re dancing to a song only he hears

“Shh, just let me admire my masterpiece.”

SOUNDS

deep, rumbling laugh when you squirm away

“Where you going? I’m the main event!”

playful whispers

“Admit it... you married me for my looks.”

fake gasps of offense

“You’re blushing? After all this time? Yah, I still got it!”

THINGS HE SAYS

Affectionate Teasing

“You’re lucky I’m so patient. Anyone else would’ve given up on your snoring.”

Unexpected Sweetness

“You’re my favorite place to be. Even better than... ahh nervermind."

AFTERCARE

whips up a gourmet breakfast with way too many heart-shaped garnishes

“Fuel for round two! Hypothetically.” 

winks as he feeds you a strawberry

drapes you in silk robe

insisting it’s “VIP loungewear” 

“You’re rocking my look. Almost as good as me.”

turns on a reality show

narrating the drama in a silly voice until you’re crying-laughing

“See? Oppa’s a whole package.”

MIN YOONGI (SUGA)

= Quiet, Grounded, and Unapologetically Tender

MOOD

hazy, gray morning

world feels muted

room is dim

curtains half-drawn

only the faint hum of the city waking up outside

his energy is calm and deliberate

no rush, no grand gestures

it’s about existing together (in stillness)

time bends

HOW IT STARTS

wakes before you

he often does, but doesn’t move

just watches the rise and fall of your shoulders

his arm slung loosely over your waist

when you finally stir, he tugs you closer

his nose brushing the back of your neck

“Too early...” 

he grumbles

voice gravelly with sleep

“Stay.” 

hand slips under your shirt

palm warm against your stomach

he is anchoring you to him

PACE

slow

almost lazy

intentional

he’s not one for theatrics

movements are measured

= like the steady click of a metronome

kisses the curve of your shoulder, the dip behind your ear

each touch is a quiet promise

he rolls you onto your back

a hand cradling your head

thumb brushing your cheekbone

“Easy...”

murmurs, more to himself than to you

TOUCH

Hands

slightly rough from guitar strings

but his fingertips are still moving gentle

tracing the line of your jaw, your collarbone, the inside of your wrist

= like he’s mapping a song only he knows

Lips

soft

lingering presses rather than urgency

kisses like he’s savoring something rare

the corner of your mouth, the pulse at your throat, the scars you once told him about

Body

prefers closeness without suffocation

his leg hooks over yours

he is pulling you into his warmth

tho leaves room to breathe

“You’re freezing...”

his smile/smirk betrays him

SOUNDS

the creak of the mattress as he shifts

his exhale

= a low hum against your skin

rare, breathy laugh when you tickle his ribs

“Yah. Focus.”

murmurs in a mix of Korean and sleep-slurred English

“좋아… just like that… perfect.”

THINGS HE SAYS

Dry Affection

“You’re hogging the sheets. Again.”

he’s the one who stole them

Blunt Honesty

“This... you... this is the only thing I’d wake up early for.”

Unexpected Softness

“Stay. Please.” 

request, not a demand

AFTERCARE

rolls onto his back

arm still draped over you

staring at the ceiling

“Coffee?” 

already knows the answer

returns with two mugs

black decaf for him

too much cream for you

sits cross-legged on the bed

shoulders brushing

no need to fill the silence

he’ll tug you into his studio

letting you nap on the couch while he works

“Don’t snore...” 

unseriously warns you

click of his mouse slows when your breathing evens out

note: would fall back asleep mid-cuddle. “Five more minutes” turning into two hours

JUNG HOSEOK (J-HOPE)

= Bright, Playful, and Overflowing with Love

MOOD

sunlit and joyful

= like the first day of spring

his energy is contagious

warm, giggly

infused with a tenderness that makes even lazy moments feel vibrant

turns intimacy into a dance

every touch is a step

every laugh a rhythm

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to the sound of him humming under his breath

his fingers tracing idle patterns on your shoulder

you shift?

he grins and pokes your cheek

“Jagiya, you’re finally up! Took you long enough.”

pulls you into a bear hug

nuzzling your neck like an overgrown puppy

“Missed you. Even though you were right here.”

PACE

mix of playful energy and lingering sweetness

he’s all about connection

switching between peppering your face with kisses and slowing down

savoring the way you sigh when he brushes his lips over your collarbone

his hands never stay still

roaming from your waist to your hair

= like he’s trying to memorize you through touch

TOUCH

Hands

warm and always moving

squeezing your hips

threading through your hair

linking your fingers together

“Your hands are so tiny. Cute.”

Lips

leaves a trail of quick, smiling kisses from your jaw to your fingertips

“One for each hour I waited for you to wake up.”

Cuddling Position

pulls you on top of him

your head resting on his chest

“Listen... my heart’s beating just for you.”

SOUNDS

bright, breathy laughter when you tickle his sides

“Yah! Cheater!”

soft, sing-song praises in Korean

“이뻐… 너무 이뻐…” (“Pretty… so pretty…”)

occasional giggle-snort when you tease him

“Stop making me laugh... this is serious...”

THINGS HE SAYS

Playful Banter

“You’re stealing all the blankets again. Again! Should I start calling you ‘Thief’?”

Affectionate

“You’re doing amazing, baby...”

Unexpected Sincerity

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you… but I’ll spend forever trying to.”

EXTRA: SHOWER MOMENT

tugs you into the shower

claiming it’s to “wash off the sleep and sweat” 

anything but lazy

hands you the loofah

eyes sparkling

you rinse his hair?

he leans into your touch

suddenly quiet

“This… this is the good stuff.”

AFTERCARE

wraps you in his fluffiest towel

dances around the kitchen making honey-butter toast.

“Fuel for round two! Or… y’know, nap time.”

plays “cozy DJ”

curates a playlist of acoustic BTS tracks and slow jams

sways with you in the living room

chin on your head

“We’re owning this lazy day, yeah?”

PARK JIMIN

= Softness, Fire, and Endless Devotion

MOOD

golden, sunlit morning where the air feels like honey

slow and sweet

his energy is a blend of soft affection and simmering intensity

like a dance between a lullaby and a crescendo

thrives on connection

making every touch a conversation

every glance is a promise

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to his fingertips tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder

his breath warm against your ear

“Jagiya...” 

murmurs, voice still husky with sleep

“You’re too pretty to be real.”

lips brush the curve of your jaw, achingly slow

as if he’s savoring the first taste of sunlight

PACE

deliberate push-and-pull

softness that melts into fervent urgency

ebbs back into something achingly gentle

starts with languid kisses

hands cupping your face like you’re something fragile

when you arch into him, he matches your hunger

fingers tangling in your hair

breath hitching

slows again just as quickly 

“Shh, we have all day...” 

whispering against your collarbone

TOUCH

Hands

start as feather-light caresses

thumb grazing your cheek

palm skimming your waist

later grips your hip with possessive gentleness

grounding you

“Right here. Stay with me.”

Lips

alternates between tender pecks and deep, lingering kisses that leave you breathless

bites his own lip to stifle a grin when you shiver

“Like that, jagiya?”

Forehead

presses his to yours during quieter moments

eyes locked on yours

“You’re my favorite sight.” 

voice trembling

SOUNDS

rustle of sheets as he pulls you closer

fabric pooling around his waist

soft, breathy laughs when you tease him

“Yah, who said you could be this cute and this annoying?”

whispers that blur Korean and English

“I’ve got you… 넌 내 것이라서… don’t ever let go.”

THINGS HE SAYS

Sweet Affirmations

“You’re everything. Every damn thing.”

Playful Demands

“Look at me. I want to see you... all of you.”

Raw Vulnerability

“I don’t know how to love you quietly. You make me… burn.”

AFTERCARE

draws a bath strewn with rose petals

insisting on washing your hair himself

“Let me take care of you.” 

fingers massage your scalp until you’re boneless against him

feeds you strawberries dipped in chocolate

licking sweetness off your thumb

“Breakfast of champions”

smirks

wraps you in his favorite silk robe

nuzzling your neck as you both doze

“Stay. The world can wait.”

KIM TAEHYUNG (V)

= Whimsical, Romantic, and Unapologetically Artistic

MOOD

golden, sunlit morning

air smells like fresh coffee/cocoa and distant rain

room feels like a vintage film set

soft velvet throws, polaroids strung on the wall, record spinning Billie Holiday in the corner

his energy is a mix of playful mischief and soul-deep romance

= as if every moment is a scene he’s directing just for you

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to the faint scratch of a charcoal pencil and the warmth of his gaze

he’s already propped on one elbow

sketching you in his leather-bound journal

sunlight gilding the edges of his bedhead

catches you watching

he grins, all boxy and bright

“Don’t move. You’re perfect like this.” 

tho tosses the sketchbook aside

crawling closer

“Actually... do move. Come here.”

PACE

unpredictable and sweetly meandering

one second he’s tracing the shell of your ear with a feather-light touch

next he’s rolling you both into a cocoon of blankets

laughing when you yelp

he’s in no rush

kisses your knuckles, your knees, curve of your ankle

= as if every inch of you deserves a soliloquy

TOUCH

Hands

artist’s hands

ink-stained and tender

skims your collarbone like he’s sketching it

laces his fingers with yours, squeezing gently

Lips

alternates between soft pecks and playful nips

“You taste like yesterday’s wine. My wine.”

Forehead

presses his to yours, eyes crinkling

“You’re my favorite dream.”

SOUNDS

crackle of vinyl in the background

saxophone notes weaving through his whispers

his low, raspy laugh when you tickle his sides

“Yah... this is a serious moment!”

it’s not...

half-sung lyrics in Korean

voice still gravelly with sleep

THINGS HE SAYS

Dramatic Flair

“If I painted you right now, I’d call it ‘Chaos and Honey’. Or maybe ‘The Day Time Forgot’.”

Playful Teasing

“You’re stealing all the good pillows. Again. Should I write a song about it?”

Raw Honesty

“I didn’t know love could feel like… this. Like a song I can’t stop humming.”

AFTERCARE

wraps you in his hoodie

makes hot chocolate with heart-shaped foam

serving them on a vintage tray with strawberries

“Breakfast fit for… us.”

dances with you barefoot

his palm warm on your lower back

“No one’s watching. Just the ghosts of jazz legends. They approve.”

JEON JUNGKOOK (JUNGKOOK)

= Sweetly Enthusiastic, Playful, and Tenderly Protective

MOOD

rainy morning, after a thunderstorm

his energy is a mix of boyish eagerness and soft reverence

= like he’s discovered something precious and wants to cherish it slowly

his touches are warm

his laughter bright

his affection spills over in whispered jagiyas

shy smiles turning into smirks

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to his arm curled possessively around your waist

his nose buried in your hair

you shift?

he mumbles sleepily

“Jagiya… five more minutes.”

his hand slides up to cradle your jaw

thumb brushing your cheekbone

nuzzles your shoulder

lips grazing the edge of your tank top strap

“Missed you, even though you were right here.”

voice still raspy from sleep

PACE

playful push-and-pull between patience and passion

he’s eager but careful

= like he’s savoring a favorite dessert

lets the moment stretch

lingering kisses, fingers tracing idle patterns on your hip

then pulling you closer with a quiet growl

“You’re too pretty. Can’t help it.”

TOUCH

Hands

strong but gentle

calloused from the gym

tho tender as they skate over your skin

lets you trace his tattoos

he shivers under your fingertips

“You’re the only one who gets to touch them.”

Lips/Bites

presses open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone

nibbling just enough to make you gasp

“Sorry, jagiya… couldn’t resist.” 

teeth graze your earlobe, playful and warm

Forehead

rests his against yours

eyes dark and sincere

“You’re everything.” 

breathes heavily

SOUNDS

soft, breathy laughter when you tickle his sides

“Yah... play nice.”

whispers

“Jagiya, you feel so good… perfect.”

rustle of sheets as he shifts to hover over you

his tattoos catching the sunlight

THINGS HE SAYS

Sweet Nonsense

“How are you real? Like… how?”

Playful Demands

“Call me oppa again. Please.” [tho I'm 50:50 abt this]

he’ll pout if you tease him

Raw Honesty

“I used to dream about mornings like this. Now I don’t have to.”

AFTERCARE

makes you banana pancakes shirtless

flexing just enough to make you laugh

“What? Gotta maintain the view for my jagiya.”

wraps you in his black hoodie

sleeves drowning your hands

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”

puts on a live later

subtly wearing the same hoodie

ARMY notices

“No, I’m not blushing! It’s… hot in here!”

[melancholy-of-nadia]

infatuation (m) | myg

title: infatuation pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; agust d universe (AgustDverse based in Haegeum) ; gang leader / mafia AU summary:  Living with fragmented and blurry memories has lead you to live under the roof of Bangkok's biggest secret crime boss, Agust D, as his bodyguard. Though, being confined to the mansion most of the time has made you feel isolated, craving freedom and answers. When he decides to take you out to dinner for the first time, the atmosphere is charged with tension and suspicion. You're not the only one who's patience is wearing thin, however, instead, it's discovering this man's infatuation with you that will lead you to change your mind. warnings:  weapon mention (katana), reader has minor amnesia, back and forth arguing, murder mention, deep fish imagery/analogy, haegeum!suga mention, dominant haegeum! agust d, making out, penthouse s*x, f*ngering, cl*t stimulation, orgasm denial, choking, power imbalance, bl*w job, bre*st play, spiting, deep throating, pet names, agust d praises you by calling you "good girl", unprotected s*x, lowkey breeding k*nk, choking, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, uh i think that's it!... yandere? haegeum!agust d maybe note: it's been a year since i uploaded my first fic in this universe i call the AgustDverse. Also the first fic that got me into writing bts fics! I've been requested to continue this universe by my dear friend @daegudrama. I don't know if it'll ever become an actual cohesive series, but if you guys like it, let me know! also this is veerrrryyyyy much unedited im sorry i will edit later word count: 6.0k drop date: August 6th, 2024 7:30pm PST mood playlist | ao3 link – –

You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—nestled within the mansion walls of a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective. 

Known as Agust D. 

How did you get here? It's a question that continuously echoes through your mind like a constant drumbeat. 

It’s not an easy question to answer. It’s actually pretty complicated. Time travel? A quantum jump? You don’t know whatever scientific phenomenon this is. 

But for your own sanity, you decided not to dwell too much on it, especially when the present demands your full attention.

Agust has let you live here under the guise of acting as his bodyguard, which is perhaps the strangest thing you've ever done. You had no prior guarding experience, but the katana sword that hangs by your side now tells otherwise. This item is a constant reminder of your supposed purpose here: to protect the mansion, to protect Agust D. But deep down, you know there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye.

Tonight, however, is different. Agust D, the enigmatic master of this mansion, has extended an invitation—an invitation to dine at an upscale Chinese restaurant. It's a rare opportunity to step beyond the confines of these walls, to breathe in the outside world, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you stand before the full-length mirror in your room, you can't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The maids have stated that Agust D insisted you wear a black satin dress he selected for the occasion—a garment that feels foreign against your skin, yet somehow fitting for the night. You’re too used to wearing a collared white button-up and a plaid skirt for most of the time while you’re at the mansion. You don’t know how long you’d been wearing that, but definitely longer than a young girl who’s in prep school.

Adjusting the delicate fabric, you take in your reflection, the unfamiliarity of the attire almost unnerving. 

A knock at the door interrupts your contemplation, and without waiting for a response, Agust D enters, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit that exudes power and authority, he regards you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You look stunning," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

With a half nod, you follow him down the stairs and out of the mansion, the cool night air wrapping around you like a shroud of secrecy. Then you hop into the black sports car, which Yoongi decides to drive this time instead of his chauffeur.

The journey to the restaurant is silent, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of the piano music playing, which came from connecting Agust D’s phone to the car’s aux.

He really does love Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, you comment internally to yourself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, you're met with the grandeur of an upscale Chinese eatery perched on the top floor of a hotel building. The space is a harmonious blend of modern elegance and traditional opulence. As you step inside, the ambient chatter of elite people and the soft clinking of cutlery fill the air, creating a lively yet refined atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the muted silence of the mansion.

The restaurant’s interior is a feast for the senses. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, accented by gold and red details that evoke a sense of luxury. Elegant lanterns hang from the ceiling, their warm, golden light casting a gentle glow across the room. The tables are adorned with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate porcelain dishes, each piece carefully chosen to complement the sophisticated ambiance.

The scent of Chinese cuisine mingles with the faint aroma of incense, creating an inviting and tantalizing atmosphere. The restaurant's design features intricate latticework and traditional Chinese artwork, adding a touch of cultural authenticity to the modern setting. Plush, comfortable chairs surround each table, offering a sense of intimacy and relaxation.

As the restaurant host takes note of Agust D standing beside you, there’s a brief moment of panic in his eyes. He quickly ushers you both to a secluded corner of the establishment, a private nook separated from the rest of the dining area by elegant silk drapes. This area, though separated, still enjoys a view of the city skyline through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the illuminated city below. 

You are seated across from Agust, but there’s still a subtle awkward atmosphere surrounding the both of you when he orders and after the food arrives. 

For a moment, the clinking of silverware against porcelain fills the silence before Agust D finally speaks.

"Do you still not remember anything?" 

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in the depths of your eyes about how to respond to him. "Bits and pieces," you admit, your gaze lingering on the dimly lit surroundings. "But nothing concrete. It's like trying to grasp at shadows."

His expression remains impassive, but you catch a fleeting glimpse of something else—something akin to regret, perhaps, or even longing. "It will come back to you," he says, his tone softer than before. "With time."

You only nod, going back to eating one of the xiaolongbao at the center of the table.

The air between you and Agust D grows heavier once again with unspoken words. You don’t like the silence. As someone who is very self-aware of their self, you feel compelled to break the silence to not be stuck in your head. 

"Agust D," you begin tentatively, the name feeling foreign on your tongue yet strangely familiar. You don’t refer to him by name often, as you opt for ‘sir’ or the occasional ‘Hyungnim’. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You never do this sort of thing…"

He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you've been cooped up in that mansion for so long," he replies cryptically, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. “Thought it would be good to treat you for your work.”

"But why now?" you press, unable to suppress the curiosity gnawing at your insides. "And wearing this?" You refer to the short piece of black fabric covering you.

Agust D's lips quirk up in a wry smile, though there's no warmth in it. "Maybe I wanted to see how you'd be like out… not on duty," he muses, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or perhaps I simply wanted company for the evening."

Company, huh? From the outside, it looks like you’re on a date. You wouldn’t doubt the restaurant staff is already gossiping from behind the curtains partitioning you from the rest of the world.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease at his words, a nagging suspicion that there's more to his motives than meets the eye. "Is that really all?" you press, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

For a moment, Agust D's mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "There's always more to say," he murmurs, his gaze turning distant as if lost in memories you can't access. "But some things are better left unsaid."

What does he even mean by that? You feel like every time you speak even a bit casually to this man, you only end up more confused and maybe even a bit more scared.

"Agust D," you venture cautiously, "...are you still looking for Suga?"

At the mention of the name, a shadow passes over Agust D's features, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve. "Suga," he repeats, the name dripping with bitterness and contempt. "Of course I’m looking for him. That man is nothing but trouble. I need to get rid of him."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man whose name hangs between you like a specter, a reminder of the past you can't quite grasp. "But why? Why do you hate him so much?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agust D's eyes darken with a mix of anger and regret, a storm raging beneath the surface. "He’s got my face and that in itself is a danger to all of us," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "He could also be the answer to everything I've lost, but it’s better if that answer is never revealed."

The words hang heavy in the air from a confession laden with pain. And as you gaze into the depths of Agust D's eyes, you realize that beneath the cold exterior lies a man haunted by his past—a man who, like you, is searching for answers, but afraid to confront them. You want to pry into what he means, but you’re scared that he may act aggressively. So instead you change the topic.

"Don’t you know his whereabouts though?" you inquire softly, your voice laced with concern.

Agust D's gaze meets yours. "I do," he confirms, his voice low and measured. "He’s in Chinatown. Living in an apartment at the end of Weng Nakorn Kasem. But I can’t act on impulse. I’m too heavily involved in the Asia Pacific Police Union, and that already involves too many variables, too many unknowns."

A sense of foreboding settles over you as you listen to his words, the weight of his burdens pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "What do you mean?" you press, your voice barely a whisper.

Agust D sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't move against him yet," he admits, his tone laced with resignation. "Not until I know how many people are on my side. There are spies within the organization. If I act too quickly, I could end up getting myself killed…"

The gravity of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile truce that exists between you. And yet, despite the dangers that lurk in the darkness, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope. If you help him in capturing Suga, then maybe you’ll be able to piece your own puzzle together.

But would that even be a good idea?

"Agust D," you say softly, smiling gently at him, "you know you don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, I'll stand by your side. Not like I have much of a choice anyway." Your words trail off at the end. He doesn’t comment on it though.

For a moment, there's a vulnerability in Agust D's gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the mask. He reaches out to take your hand, his expression softening ever so slightly at your words. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dimly lit restaurant.

“It’s my job after all.”

––––––

After finishing dinner, the two of you begin to walk out of the restaurant, entering a long hallway that leads to large red sliding doors that exit.  Your eyes drift toward the grand wall aquarium positioned near the exit, its towering glass panels reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lights.

The aquarium is a masterpiece of design, housing a diverse array of aquatic life within its transparent confines. Colorful coral reefs sway gently in the water, their vibrant hues casting mesmerizing patterns of light and shadow across the sandy substrate below.

But amidst the bustling underwater ecosystem, your gaze fixates on a lone goldfish, its sleek form gliding gracefully through the water. Its vibrant orange scales shimmer in the ambient light, a stark contrast to the subdued colors of its surroundings.

A pang of concern tugs at your heart as you watch the solitary fish navigate its artificial habitat. Don't goldfish typically reside in tranquil ponds, surrounded by the soothing sounds of nature? Is it even safe for them to be confined within the confines of this glass enclosure?

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Agust D's departure until you feel a gentle tug on your arm. Startled, you turn to find him regarding you with a curious expression, his gaze flickering between you and the aquarium.

"What's on your mind?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing display before you, your thoughts still lingering on the lone koi fish. "I was just...thinking about that fish," you admit, gesturing toward the aquarium.

“The goldfish?”

“Mhm,” As you stand there, watching the solitary koi fish swim about, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. "I wish I were a fish sometimes," you murmur.

As funny as your sentence sounds, you thought the older man would laugh at you for making a comment like that. However, Agust D's gaze flickers at you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. 

"Why's that?" he asks, his voice soft with intrigue.

You pause, contemplating your answer as you watch the graceful movements of the fish. "Uh, well they seem so free," you explain, your voice tinged with longing. “They get to go wherever they want. move through life with such ease in the water, not burdened by the weight of the world.”

As you continue to watch the fish, a sense of yearning wells up within you—a desire to shed the constraints of your human existence. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could trade places with that fish just so I could be able to live freely, to live without my own burdens."

Agust D nods in understanding, a silent reassurance amid your musings. "But you know, even fish have their own struggles. I mean, look at it, it’s trapped in this Chinese restaurant’s aquarium as entertainment for guests, fighting to survive in a place it doesn’t belong,”

Sigh.

He’s right. But you hate the fact that he’s right.

“That still doesn’t change what I said. Plus, I don't want to be that fish.” you interject, your voice laced with a hint of sadness. "Slowly destroyed by its surroundings… not belonging there."

Agust D's brow furrows in contemplation, his gaze returning to the small goldfish. "So what are you trying to say?" 

"I don't want to feel like that," you admit. "Trapped in a world that doesn't feel like home, constantly struggling to find where I belong!"

And you hate it because that is exactly how you’ve been feeling right now. You’re living with a man several years older than you, who is probably the most dangerous man in Thailand, maybe even all of Asia. And you have no idea why you stuck here with him, but where could you really go? Where are you actually from? Where is home?

Agust D's expression hardens slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Life isn't always about feeling at home," he counters. "Sometimes it's about surviving where you are and making the best of it."

No! He doesn’t get it.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his words, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "That's easy for you to say," you retort, tone sharp. "You're not the one who's been confined to that mansion, to these guarding duties, waiting for memories to come back."

His eyes narrow slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in them. "You think I don't have my own battles?" he snaps back. "I'm out there every day, dealing with threats you can't even imagine."

"At least you have control over these things. You have the entirety of this city wrapped around your finger," you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "At least you know who you are and what you're fighting for!”

The tension between you two shifts. Agust D steps closer, his presence looming, but you refuse to back down, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Inside, you're a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, and a touch of desperation. How can he be so dense and unreadable, yet so annoyingly calm? It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Every word you say seems to bounce off him while his expression remaining infuriatingly stoic. You want to scream, to make him understand just how much this is tearing you apart, but he stands there, unmoved, as if your turmoil is nothing more than a slight breeze in his world.

“Agust, you–”

"Fuck…you're so hot when you're upset, doll," he murmurs, interrupting you with a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, he grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit.

Huh?

"Hey!" you protest, your frustration mingling with a surge of adrenaline. But Agust D doesn't relent, his grip firm as he guides you out of the restaurant and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors slide shut, sealing you both inside the confined space, the tension between you reaches a boiling point. "What are you doing?" you demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Instead of answering, Agust D pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with a fierce intensity. Your initial resistance melts away as the kiss deepens, the heat between you igniting into a blazing inferno powered by unknown frustrations beneath the surface.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you glare at him. "You can't just—" you start, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

"I can and I will," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. "Because right now, all I can think about is you."

Your frustration mingles with a heady mix of desire, the lines between anger and passion blurring as you give in to the moment. As the elevator ascends, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you.

When the elevator dings softly, signaling its arrival on your floor, you find yourselves in a private hallway in the hotel building, the opulent surroundings a stark contrast to the intensity of your kiss. Agust D pulls back, his eyes dark with desire and determination.

"We're not done talking," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. "But right now, I need you."

Your eyes are left wide open, feeling hormones coursing through you.

This can’t be happening. Is this all a dream? Yes, this has to be. And what’s with the scenario? Are you that sexually frustrated? You admit you’ve never done this sort of thing and have only spent your free time reading erotica for entertainment. 

But to dream about fucking the very man keeping you captive within his mansion and living as a bodyguard. There has got to be something wrong with you. Maybe you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome? But you’ve not once felt emotionally attached to this man.

Though there have been times you’ve looked at him and thought about how beautiful he looked.

Shit.

Maybe you’ll go along with this. Everything else be damned, for now.

“Show me then,” You word out, which only fires him up more.

Agust D’s grip on your arm is firm but not painful as he leads you down the luxurious hallway to a penthouse suite, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. Your thoughts are a chaotic jumble, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop and the primal part urging you to give in.

As soon as the door to a suite clicks shut behind you, he’s on you again, pushed against a wall, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Every touch, every kiss feels electric, igniting a fire within you that you didn’t know existed.

In the back of your mind, you know this is wrong. You know you should be resisting, should be fighting against the pull he has on you. But right now, in this moment, all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your skin, the way his lips move against yours, the way his presence consumes you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, showcasing his possessive nature. “I refuse to let you go.”

His hands start to inch up under your dress until he reaches your core and starts flicking at your clit. You gasp, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing. “To feel me, to know that you’re mine?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your body arching toward his touch, craving more.

“Good,” he says, his fingers moving with a deft precision that has you teetering on the edge. “Because I’m not stopping until you know that you belong to me.”

He continues his ministrations, his touch driving you wild with need. The logical part of your brain has long since surrendered, leaving only the raw, primal desire that burns within you.

His fingers slide below your black lace underwear until he inserts them inside you with a sly grin. You can't help but moan at the invasion, your body trembling with anticipation. He moves them in and out, hitting just the right spot, causing you to writhe beneath him.

"This is what you get," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "For. every. time. you. talked. back. to. me. today." He growls, punctuating every word with a thrust inside your pussy.

“F-Fuck A-Agust!” And holy shit does it feel so good.

As lust starts to fog your mind and the air fills with moans, you don't know what's happening to you. But you don't care. The fire inside you is burning brighter by the second, and you can't get enough of the man who's taken control of your body and mind at this moment

Yoongi places his thumb on your nub and plays with it, squishing it in circular motions, then using his finger to rub it a little faster then slowing down only to fasten the pace again. You felt a very familiar feeling boiling up in your lower belly threatening to unleash itself.

“I’m not gonna let you reach your high yet.” 

Suddenly, he removes all his fingers from you and you whimper immediately, the absence of his touch leaving you desperate for more.

Yoongi bites down against his lips, eyes quickly traveling from your face and down your body, “Huh…W-Wait..P-Please…” You pant heavily, trying to rub your thighs together to pick back up the pace that was headed toward your release

“I thought you wanted to leave me, doll?” He leans in closer, chuckling in your face, and you shake your head. At this moment, you realize that he’s hard under his dress pants. “Are you sure? I don’t give orgasms to people that won’t obey me.”

“I-I’ll prove it to you!” You drop to your knees quickly, placing your hands on both of his sides. “Oh? And how will you do that?” He gives you a curious look, already knowing what to expect from your sudden submissive behavior. While he spoke, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his cock.

“Oh fuck…” You let out in the smallest whisper. He wasn’t long per se, but more than average. But the girth… holy shit. Will it even fit in any of your holes? And the way his precum is already pearling on his tip just from what you two did earlier? You swallow nervously, but you’re not one to back away from a challenge. “Like this.” 

You hold his cock gently from the base, proceeding to gather spit from your mouth and letting it drop on it. You proceed to move your hand, spreading his precum and your saliva on his dick, managing to get a good slide and starting to move your hand quicker. You looked up innocently, already noticing a flicker of Agust’s facade fade as he felt himself slipping away in pleasure. In his mind, he was tempted to say fuck it all and let himself fuck against your hand, but he knew better than just to let himself become an animal. After the prep, you part your mouth and slowly take him in, the stretch already starting to hurt your jaw from his wide size. In the meantime, you just suck around his head and use your hand to deliver pleasure to the rest of his shaft, earning deep-sounding curses and moans while your tongue swirled around him. 

His eyes are glued to you, watching you work his cock with your kitten-like licks. Though, this isn’t enough for him. He wants to thrust up down your throat so bad and fuck you until your voice was sore. He wants to see how much you’re willing to take in that small mouth of yours.

And that’s exactly what he does. He places his hand on your head, giving you small pats and rubs disguised as encouragement for your efforts. Then his hand starts inching towards the back of your head until he suddenly grabs a handful of your hair and forcibly pushes his dick further until your smacked against his pelvis.

“Seems like you still need practice. Don’t worry, I’ll train you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag reflexively, but he doesn't let up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes start to water, now holding onto his sides for dear life, but you force yourself to take it, willing your throat to open up and accommodate his girth. His palm comes up to your cheek to rub your cheek, feeling himself on the other side enter in and out of you.

He grunts with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of your mouth as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm. You feel like you're choking, but you don't want to disappoint him and prevent you from reaching your orgasm after. However, it doesn’t take long for him to come undone, swallowing saliva and cum down your throat. He removes himself and you begin to cough erratically. You have never deep-throated before, so it’s a miracle you didn’t throw up or die from this. It’s definitely not as easy as porn makes it seem. You’ve been lied to by the media! “Haah… Holy shit…” You groan, trying to catch your breath and stabilize your heart rate.

“You alright?” He questions, voice tinged with slight worry as he fixes his pants and underwear back up and leans down towards your face. “I lost myself for a bit…”

“It’s okay–” You pause, shocked for a moment to hear your voice sound hoarse. Despite that, Agust chuckles, using his palm once again to rub against your cheek to comfort you, smiling softly. “Good girl. Now you’ll get your reward.” With this, he guides you to the master bedroom, his grip on your arms firm yet careful, leading you through the opulent suite. The room is a testament to luxury, with rich, dark wood furniture that you knew Agust requested in the hotels he invests in and soft, ambient lighting that casts a warm glow over everything. The large windows offer a stunning view of the Bangkok city skyline, but your focus is solely on him.

He pushes you gently onto the king-sized bed, the plush mattress sinking beneath your weight. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin, starkly contrasting the heat building between you. Agust D stands over you, his eyes dark with desire, a predator savoring his prey.

He slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching as he unbuttons his suit vest, followed by his shirt, revealing his semi-muscular and beefy figure beneath. You’ve never seen him like this before, as he’s a very reserved man when it comes to his body. But each inch of exposed skin sends a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Now, let me take care of you.”

He climbs onto the bed, sitting between your legs where his hands start trailing up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. His touch is electrifying, each caress igniting a fire in your core. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of burning kisses from your collarbone to your ear.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to get enough of you.”

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving you to the brink of madness. He slips the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away completely, leaving your body exposed and vulnerable beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, a dark hunger in his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “My doll.”

He lowers himself, his mouth finding your breast, sucking and nibbling until you’re arching into him, your fingers tangled in his slick black hair. He trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself between your legs.

You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “Ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Mm..” You only make a sound and nod due to the lust clouding your mind. How do you say words? Do words matter?

He pinches your clit slightly which makes you jump and arc your body a little.

“Words, doll.”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to finally speak out, your body wiggling around close to his face eager for him to move. 

He doesn’t hesitate after your verbal consent, his tongue flicking out to taste you from your clit down to your entrance, drawing a cry of pleasure from your lips. He works you expertly, starting with his tongue sucking against your clit, then eating you out in your entrance. 

And holy fuck does he have you wrapped around his finger with these ministrations. You had heard rumors of him being good at oral sex from the women at the events you would accompany him to, but fuck, the actual thing doesn’t compare to their mere descriptions.

His tongue soon returns to nibble and suck at your aching bud, with his fingers replacing his place inside you. And before you know it, you’re lost in the sensation again, body jerking as every nerve ending is set aflame as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

And Agust D knows it, smirking against your pussy as he feels you tighten against his fingers. “Come for me,” he growls against your skin, his voice a command that you can’t resist.

With a final, shuddering gasp, you fall apart, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. He holds you through it, his hands and mouth coaxing every last bit of ecstasy from your body until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you recover. “Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done.” 

He stands up and swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock, red and eager. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your mind racing.

Oh? Is he going to put it in?!

“Huh? W-Wait you–”

Before you can finish speaking, he puts your legs on his shoulder and aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. The heat and intensity of his gaze make your heart race.

“You’re on birth control, correct?”

“Yes…”

You’d be surprised that he knows this fact, but he does look over your medical records after all. You’d also question the ethics of this, but not now.

“Then we can go all out,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “And I’ll show you that you’re truly mine.”

He pushes into you, his cock stretching and filling you completely.

“F-Fuck!” You gasp, the sensation is overwhelming, fueled with pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. He pauses movements for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your eyes close as you try to focus on relaxing your body.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, his voice low and firm as he holds your chin. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” You meet his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. There’s a primal hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up with the intensity of his pace. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming and does not compare to his or your own fingers pleasuring you.

“Do you feel that?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you feel how your pussy is being molded by my cock?”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. “I feel it!”

“Good,” he says, his thrusts becoming faster, more intense. “Because you won’t ever be able to be pleased by another cock as long as I live,”

His movements are relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slap of skin against skin, and the ragged gasps and moans that escape your lips. 

As your eyes meet his, he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His grip is firm but not painful, sending a rush of adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins.

“Doll, you like being choked while I fuck you? Having you wrapped around my fingers now.”

“F-Feels so mmh good!” You mumble, your breath hitching as his grip tightens slightly, the sensation heightening the pleasure coursing through your body.

You never thought you’d be so turned on by choking. You don’t know if it’s you getting high off the lack of oxygen and feeling pleasure, or giving up your life’s control to this man before you that has your toes curling.

The pleasure builds up to an unbearable peak once more, but this time, you know that he is feeling the same thing too. His thrusts become harder, more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body. His hand on your neck adds an edge to the sensation od dominance and possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

“Come for me, doll,” he growls, his voice a command that you can’t ignore. “I want to feel you come around me as I do at the same time.”

With a final, shuddering cry, your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing in pleasure. He follows you soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills into you, his own release mingling with yours. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at you with a smile that exposes his gums. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender, possessive kiss. 

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, the words a promise and a declaration.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “I’ll never let you leave.”

At that moment, as you lie there in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t want him to. The world outside may be complicated and uncertain, but here, with him, everything feels right.

This is your home.

All you want is for this man to be infatuated with you for the rest of your life.

This is how things should be. Right?

–

– tbc?

✨ let me know ur thoughts! how are you feeling?! ✉️

[hellbornsworld]

Jungkook Fanfic Recommendations(7)₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊

☆ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 | Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook X Pastel!Reader | @bonny-kookoo

☆ Mugs & Kisses | Jungkook x Reader | Barista Au | Oneshot | @minisugakoobies

☆ simply meant to be | pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader | OneShot | @caelesjjk

☆ beside you | idol!jungkook x gf!reader | Oneshot | @nochukoo97

☆ Fragment of the Past | patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader | thriller & yandere au | Series | @ctrlsht

☆ burnout | basketball player!jungkook x student journalist!fem!reader | Yandere | @aikastales

☆ 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 | Vampire! Jeon Jungkook X Human! (F) Reader | OneShot | @angllicjk

☆ angel in the marble | michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader | high renaissance au | OneShot | @venusjeon

☆ love à trois | jungkook x fem!reader x jimin | Side: Jimin X Reader | @letjungcoook7

☆ you're losing me | jungkook x reader | Married Couple | @sparklingchim

☆ part time lover | investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader | Oneshot | @sketchguk

☆ STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME | Jungkook x fem!reader | Series | @hoseokieswrld

☆ cherry bomb | jungkook x fem reader | Oneshot | @retrievablememories

☆ your cursed thoughts | jungkook x reader | Halloween AU | Series | @smaubts

☆ UNWANTED | King/brother Jungkook × slave/older sister YN | @kangmoon27

☆ the seventh life | vampire!Jungkook x female!reader | @folkookie97

☆ champagne confetti | heartthrob!jk x fashion employee f!reader | @pennyellee

☆ Horizon | Angel!Jungkook x Reader | Two shot | @sokooks

☆ Whose idea was it, though? | Jungkook X Reader | @astayinwonderland

☆ First Prize | Boxer!Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @tsukisrants

☆ TERRITORIAL | yandere!Jungkook x Yandere Yn | Oneshot | @kangmoon27

☆ Movie Night | Jungkook x fem!reader | Yandere!JK X Reader | OneShot | @taevbears

☆ tethered. | emo!jk x reader | Series | @13lov

☆ gotcha | jungkook x reader | ChildhoodFriend Au | Oneshot | @whatifyoulivelikethat

☆ mate | alpha!jungkook x omega!reader | Series | @7deadlysinsfics

☆ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Aged up!Jungkook X Younger!Reader | Series | @bonny-kookoo

☆ Slithered | Mafia Jungkook x Fem!Reader | Series | @bts-0t-7

☆ Self-Care Sunday | NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader | One-Shot | @shina913

☆ animal farm. | Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @joonberriess

☆ November Sun | Jungkook x reader | OneShot | @oddinary4bts

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊

Jungkook Recommendation Masterlist

[jungkoode]

CODE : EPITAPH

-˚ a story about blood debts, survival instincts & the cost of hatred when the world's already dead ˚-

"The only thing worse than sharing your blood with the enemy is knowing that for you to live, he has to die. And the only thing worse than that? Not being sure which outcome you actually want."

˚ ✧ quick links ✧ ˚

read on ao3

read on wattpad

read author intro and TWs (MUST)

˚ ✧ synopsis ✧ ˚

In a world ravaged by the Veris virus, the Consortium created the Epitaph System—a brutal solution to save what remains of humanity through genetic matching and blood transfusion. One match lives. One dies.

You’ve spent your life hacking systems and surviving in the shadows of Veyrah's broken sectors. Namjoon has spent his perfecting the algorithm that keeps the last fragments of civilization alive. When you're identified as a 100% match��unprecedented, dangerous, perfect—the clock starts ticking.

60 days until one of you dies.

60 days forced together across war-torn sectors, completing missions, dodging assassins, and fighting rebel factions—including your own.

60 days to despise the person whose blood might save you.

You hate him for creating the system that executed your parents. He loathes you for threatening the fragile order he's sacrificed everything to maintain.

But as the broken world around you continues to crumble, you might both discover something far more destructive than hatred.

Understanding.

✧ details ✧

main ship: namjoon x f!reader side ships: taehyung x f!reader (past), yoongi x f!reader, 2seok, taegi, bts x ocs genre: ANGST in capital letters, dystopian sci-fi, enemies to lovers, slow burn with teeth, pure raw hatred (and i mean i wanna kill you), bleak world building, gritty, oppression rating: explicit (18+ only) words: - chapters: - status: upcoming

˚ ✧ chapter guide ✧ ˚

early access + snippets

➳ #01 | snippet #1

volume one: genetic matches & mutual threats

➳ #01 | perfect match, death protocol ➳ #02 | ➳ #03 | ➳ #04 | ➳ #05 | ➳ #06 | ➳ #07 | ➳ #08 | ➳ #09 | ➳ #10 | ➳ #11 | ➳ #12 | ➳ #13 | ➳ #14 | ➳ #15 | ➳ #16 | ➳ #17 | ➳ #18 | ➳ #19 | ➳ #20 |

fragments & memories

BEFORE THE MATCH

➳ cipher's first raid ➳ warden's algorithm [WIP] ➳ shroud initiation ➳ consortium academy (young namjoon) ➳ black market exchange (seokjin's debut)

THE BROKEN SECTORS

➳ valis core protocol breach ➳ the first veris outbreak ➳ mournwell uprising ➳ virex shard sabotage ➳ collapsed pulse rail

TRANSFERENCE RECORDS

➳ subject file: taehyung & ahri ➳ subject file: jimin & classified ➳ subject file: yoongi & redacted ➳ subject file: jungkook & pending ➳ consortium calculations

HIDDEN HISTORIES

➳ cipher's parents: execution logs ➳ warden's lost sibling ➳ red verge manifesto ➳ the chain ceremony ➳ pulse transmission: final hour

Key:

Regular titles: upcoming chapters

[WIP]: fragments currently being written

Strikethrough: future content & concept ideas

Read order: chronological by volume, fragments can be read anytime

✧ content includes ✧

♡ explicit sexual content ♡ graphic violence and medical procedures ♡ power dynamics & psychological warfare ♡ dystopian brutality & survival horror ♡ alien world physics & non-earth environments ♡ body horror related to virus and transference ♡ dubious ethical choices in apocalyptic scenarios ♡ enemies-to-lovers with emphasis on the enemies ♡ blood bond dynamics

˚ ✧ extras ✧ ˚

✧ playlists:

code : epitaph - the soundtrack

songs that play in the citadel and drive yn crazy

✧ code : epitaph art: drawings ✧ pinterest: aesthetic & vibes ✧ moodboards: characters | relationships ✧ location maps: veyrah sectors

• consortium territories

• the verge wastes ✧ tidbits/headcanons: #c:etidbits ✧ quotes/favorite lines: [coming soon]

˚ ✧ disclaimer ✧ ˚

please be reminded that members are purely used with visual purposes. this is a work of fiction merely written for entertainment purposes.

© jungkoode 2025 | my partner for the maps (code)

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[seoul-bros]

Maybe I am feeling pessimistic but it seems to me that all the external efforts to bring down BTS are no match for the shitstorm going on in our fandom space right now. I'd love someone to set me straight and maybe I shouldn't surf TwiX on the daily but when I see good news about members being weaponised to further fragment the fandom it makes me see that 2026 promised reunion move further and further down the road. Maybe that is what some people want to see, so wrapped up in their bias's solo success that the big picture is lost, but for me personally, BTS the group and all its members with their unique dynamics is where the real magic happens. It's the alchemy of circumstance that comes along once in a lifetime and it really irks me that people can be so cavalier with what they purport to hold so dear.

Post Date: 27/04/2025

[twicehaneul]

hearing daze

pairing: choi seungcheol x twice added member' oc

genre: fluff, first meet, slow burn, acquaintances to friends to lovers

warnings: fluff, angst?, mentions of accidents and injuries (kind of), choi seungcheol being a gentleman and husband material

if you want to be in the taglist, please leave a message! 🤍

2019 Seoul Music Awards

The 2019 Seoul Music Awards glittered with its usual chaos — stage lights dancing like lightning bolts, cameras flashing from every angle, and the steady roar of fans echoing beneath the polished dome of Gocheok Sky Dome.

TWICE and SEVENTEEN sat in prime spots, directly beside the stage, their tables brushing shoulders just like the groups often did backstage. Their presence commanded attention — 23 idols, polished, radiant, and composed beneath the storm of excitement.

It was during BTS’s “Fake Love” performance that things shifted.

The stage went dark, cloaked in mystery. A heartbeat pulsed from the speakers — low, heavy, ominous.

Haneul adjusted in her seat. She was already overstimulated — the mix of smoke, bass, and lights gnawed at her focus. She leaned slightly toward Jihyo beside her, whispering something small and distracted.

Jihyo gently squeezed her hand in response.

Next to them, SEVENTEEN stayed focused on the performance. Most of the members were absorbed in the show, but S.Coups noticed how Haneul tensed when the sub-bass hit too hard. He didn’t say anything. Not yet.

Then it happened.

A blast of fireworks exploded directly above the edge of the stage, right in front of their tables. It wasn’t one of the carefully controlled flares — it was too close, a burst of white and gold heat, accompanied by a thunderous crack that felt like it split the air.

Haneul was the nearest to the blast.

Everything else happened in fragments.

She flinched violently, her arms snapping up as instinct overrode reason. Her hearing cracked open — a shrill, sharp keening in her ears swallowed everything.

Jihyo jolted beside her, reaching out instantly.

Nayeon froze mid-clap. Dahyun whispered, “Is she okay?”

Even Mina, usually unreadable, looked startled. Chaeyoung blinked hard, one hand on the edge of the table. Jeongyeon reached out automatically, her jaw tight.

Tzuyu leaned in slightly, eyes alert. Sana dropped the glow stick in her hand and stared, eyes wide.

Over at SEVENTEEN’s table, the reaction rippled fast.

Seungkwan half-rose from his seat. “What the hell—?!”

Joshua blinked, visibly disoriented. Mingyu’s head whipped toward TWICE’s table, mouth parted.

DK’s hand paused mid-air, as if reaching toward the noise. Hoshi and Jun both exchanged glances — quick, sharp. Wonwoo frowned deeply, instinctively scanning for staff. Woozi still stunned, was looking with his brow furrowed.

The8 shifted in his seat, tense. Vernon leaned forward, eyes trained on Haneul. Dino had gone utterly still.

But S.Coups was already moving.

He didn’t stand — he couldn’t, not in front of dozens of cameras — but he slid his chair slightly back and angled his body, blocking the view of the fans, the cameras, even the staff across the stage.

His eyes scanned quickly. Haneul’s hands were over her ears, her face pale, eyes unfocused.

He didn’t call her name.

Instead, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees like he was simply shifting posture. Casual to everyone else. But when he looked up — his voice was steady and low, just for her.

“Haneul.”

She didn’t hear.

The ringing in her ears was too loud. Muffled. Distant. Her hands trembled, her head bowed slightly as if trying to ground herself. The noise had collapsed into a piercing pressure — like everything was just... gone.

Seungcheol’s chest tightened.

He glanced to Jihyo, who met his gaze and subtly nodded. She was scared too.

He moved just enough to reach forward — his hand hovering over hers. He whispered again:

“You’re safe. Look at me.”

Slowly, her eyes lifted. Blurry, hesitant. And when they met his — the world came back in pieces.

The cameras still rolled. The crowd still screamed. But to her, none of it existed.

Only him.

“You’re okay now,” he said softly, carefully. “It’s over. I promise.”

She nodded faintly, breath shaky. But her hands still shook.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, grounding her. “You’re okay.”

Back at the tables, the members watched silently — a quiet wall of understanding.

Jihyo rubbed Haneul’s back gently. Momo angled her body forward to block the view. Jeongyeon subtly placed a water bottle on the table within reach.

Chaeyoung leaned just enough to provide cover. Sana, who’d been stunned speechless, quietly handed Haneul a small towel from the table. Nayeon kept her arm lightly draped behind her chair. Tzuyu shifted in her seat, body angled defensively. Dahyun whispered something calming, mostly for herself.

Not a single person on stage saw the chaos in the shadows.

By the time the performance ended, Haneul was sitting upright again. Her expression was blank. Distant.

Seungcheol hadn’t moved back to his table yet. But he met her eyes once more before slipping away.

Their hands had never touched more than a moment — but the silence between them said everything.

Backstage — TWICE Waiting Room

The award show ended with confetti, standing ovations, and camera flashes that didn’t catch the truth.

Backstage was chaos, but in that tight little waiting room reserved for TWICE, things were quiet.

Too quiet.

Haneul sat on the small couch by the makeup table, shoulders wrapped in a thick black coat Mina had immediately thrown over her. Her ears were still ringing faintly. It wasn't pain now, just... pressure. Like sound was moving through fog.

The other members hovered — not obviously, not dramatically. But she felt them all around her.

Jihyo sat closest, one hand gently resting on Haneul’s back.

Nayeon stood near the mirror, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

Dahyun and Chaeyoung kept peeking over from the corner, whispering.

Mina and Tzuyu, silent as ever, watched with eyes like still water — protective, alert.

Sana, Jeongyeon, and Momo sat a few steps away but didn’t touch their phones.

They were all there.

“Unnie, are you okay?” Dahyun finally whispered.

Haneul nodded slowly. “Yeah… just a little disoriented.”

“You didn’t hear anything for like, full 5 minutes.” Nayeon’s voice was unusually soft.

“I heard it… I think. Too much of it.”

There was a pause. Then Mina’s voice: “It was too close. It shouldn’t have happened that way.”

Before anyone could respond, a knock came at the door.

Everyone turned.

A staff member stepped in. “Sorry — SEVENTEEN’s leader just needs to—uh…”

Then he walked in.

Seungcheol.

Black slacks, dark dress shirt still tucked, sleeves slightly rolled, hair tousled like he had run a marathon. He wore no mask now — they were offstage — but his face was unreadable.

The room froze.

Sana blinked. Momo's jaw dropped just slightly. Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow like she already knew.

Jihyo was the first to recover. “Hey...”

“Hey,” he said, eyes already on her — on Haneul.

No cameras now. No fans. No stylists. Just members and a silence heavy with unsaid things.

“Can I…?” he asked, nodding toward the seat beside her.

Jihyo looked at Haneul.

Haneul gave the tiniest nod.

Seungcheol walked over and sat beside her, careful and quiet. His voice dropped.

“You okay?”

She didn’t speak immediately — just looked at him. And in that second, her shoulders finally relaxed.

“A little dazed,” she whispered. “Still buzzing.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve—”

“You were already there,” she cut in softly. “That’s more than enough.”

“Besides, you had not fault in this”

For a moment, it was quiet again. Not awkward — just full.

“I’ll go back to my members,” he finally said, standing. “I just needed to see for myself.”

Then:

As soon as the door closed behind him, Jeongyeon clapped once and declared, “That man’s in love.”

“So…,” Nayeon said, voice lilting with amusement. “The leader of SEVENTEEN shows up in our waiting room, directly after the fireworks nearly take Haneul’s hearing, huh?”

“Oh boy,” Sana murmured under her breath.

“He came so fast,” Dahyun whispered to Chaeyoung.

Jihyo tried (and failed) to suppress a smile. “Should we leave them alone next time?”

“I’m pretty sure he sprinted the second the cameras cut,” Jeongyeon added, arms crossed and smirking.

Haneul just sighed and buried her face in her hands. “Please don’t start.”

Tzuyu, of all people, chimed in quietly: “You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“Can’t deny facts,” Momo added, deadpan.

The room burst into chaotic laughter.

Seungcheol’s POV — SEVENTEEN Waiting Room

The door clicked shut behind him.

The hallway noise faded, but his heartbeat didn’t.

Haneul had looked okay. Pale, shaken, but okay. That was all that mattered.

But the image of her flinching — the way her shoulders curled in, how her hands had snapped up like a reflex — it stuck with him.

He barely made it three steps into the SEVENTEEN waiting room before chaos began.

“So?” Seungkwan asked, eyes wide. “Did you at least hold her hand?”

“What?!” Seungcheol spun. “No!”

“Then what did you do?” Hoshi leaned in. “Brush her hair back? Whisper something cool?”

DK clutched his chest. “Don’t tell me you said, ‘You’re safe now’ in That Voice.”

“Guys—” Seungcheol started.

“You ran like a lead in a drama,” said Jeonghan. “Staff jumped.”

“I was just checking on her.”

Seungkwan mimicked him in a dreamy tone: “‘Just checking on her.’”

“You looked like a knight,” said Dino. “Or a K-drama bodyguard.”

“Pretty bold of you to barge in,” Joshua added. “What if someone saw?”

“I knocked.”

“Still bold,” murmured Vernon. “Romance-coded.”

Jun nodded. “You’ve definitely got a crush.”

“I—what? No.”

Twelve pairs of eyes stared.

“You’re serious right now?” said Seungkwan.

“Hyung,” DK said gently. “You care about all of us. But the way you look at her? That’s not just ‘checking in.’”

“It’s different,” added Mingyu. “Like... protective. Soft.”

Seungcheol stayed quiet.

Jeonghan tilted his head. “So you’d be fine if she dated someone else?”

A pause. Too long of one.

“I didn’t say that,” he muttered.

Chaos exploded.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” DK screamed.

Mingyu threw a towel like a bouquet.

“The truth is out,” Vernon deadpanned.

Even Woozi muttered, “Pathetic,” with fondness.

Seungcheol sank onto the armrest.

“I just don’t know if she feels the same.”

Silence.

Joshua smiled gently. “Sounds like you already made your choice.”

“But,” Mingyu added, nudging him, “if you ever change your mind… we’ll help you plan the proposal.”

Seungcheol threw a bottle cap at him.

They laughed. Loudly.

But even with the noise, his mind was quiet — spinning with one image.

The way she looked at him.

Like she was safe.

And somehow, that scared him even more.

media reaction

🐦 Twitter/X Comments

@once_luv_haneul “you can literally SEE her flinch the second that firework goes off. she was way too close. what were the organizers thinking?? #ProtectHaneul #SMA2019”

@caratfiles17 “S.Coups didn’t even hesitate… he immediately turned his whole body like he was shielding her. That’s leader behavior right there. 😭🫶 #SCOUPS”

@twicetopia “TWICE unnie line instantly moved toward her like a wall. Nayeon and Jihyo looked READY to fight that firework 😭 queens. #TWICE #SMA2019”

@mingyuvisuals “You guys saw Mingyu whip his head toward their table too?? The boys were genuinely concerned. That blast was TOO close.”

@haneulverse “Watching her press her hands to her ears broke my heart. You could tell she was overstimulated even before the blast… poor baby 🥺”

💬 Pann/TheQoo Comments (translated from Korean)

“That didn’t look like a planned effect at all. Why did it explode that close to the artists? So dangerous.”

“Haneul’s reaction looked real, not staged. Her hands flew up immediately, and she didn’t even try to smile through it.”

“They need to stop using excessive pyrotechnics. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

“S.Coups’ reaction was subtle but you can tell he was laser-focused on her. Respect.”

💻 Reddit (r/kpop, r/twice, r/seventeen)

u/k-idolstan “As someone with sensory issues, I genuinely felt for Haneul in that moment. That kind of blast can be triggering — she handled it with so much grace.”

u/svtandtwice “It’s wild how in sync these groups are. The way TWICE shielded her and SEVENTEEN stayed alert… that’s real friendship behind the scenes.”

u/bbyotter97 “What gets me is how quick Jihyo grabbed her hand. That leader protectiveness was on full display 😭”

u/leaderscoups “Let’s talk about the way Seungcheol moved to block the view from cameras. He didn’t panic, didn’t make it a scene, just protected. That’s a man right there.”

▶️ YouTube Comments under fancams

🌟 “At 0:11 you can see Haneul’s face go from excited to completely blank… she’s clearly shaken. I hope she’s okay 😢”

🌸 “Major respect to the other TWICE girls. Mina and Jihyo made sure she wasn’t visible to cameras while she calmed down. That’s sisterhood.”

🔥 “Imagine performing in that environment every year and still having to pretend like nothing happened. Idols deserve better safety.”

🫶 “Seungcheol didn’t even look around. His eyes were on her instantly. You can’t fake that level of care.”

🎤 “Why is no one talking about the staff?? This needs to be addressed — what if she had hearing damage or a panic attack?”

im back!!! sorry for the delay, i was giving my university examss! but now im free

tag list: @ateez-atiny380 @cherrylovescheol

[perfectlyoongi]

WHEN THEY LOVE YOU THE MOST

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... jin, jimin, taehyung, jungkook x gn!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... headcanons. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... fluff. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... ~330 each / 1.3k total.

↬┊JIN

after long days of fighting and several hours of communication, at the end of forced smiles and impromptu conversations, between your home and the world, Jin loved you the most when you were tired.

it was when the world was most challenging that Jin found little details about you to love: the way your eyes almost close when you laugh, the way you always stretch your back before taking a deep breath, the way you always manage to find gentle words amidst the chaos in this world. at all times, you were beautiful.

but it was when you arrived home defeated that Jin loved you the most.

he could see on your face your silent plea for affection; he could see in your dragging feet your silent request for a massage; Jin could see in you that it was at that moment that you needed the most love. and he would give it to you. without ever thinking twice, always so helpful and ready, Jin loved you. simply that.

on the most tiring days, when it seemed like the world was taking over you, Jin would take you in his arms and show you that with him you would always have a safe haven. close your eyes. rests. relax. let Jin’s gentle touch take you to lands of tranquility. let Jin’s sweet voice guide you along the most serene paths. let Jin love you.

it didn't matter the day or Jin’s state: he could be tired, totally defeated after a long day of working, he could have just arrived from a long trip, there was no excuse for Jin not to love you. he made you a priority every day. your well-being was equivalent to Jin’s well-being.

so every day, when he knew you weren’t well and needed a quiet moment in the comfort of the one you loved, Jin would love you until you felt like yourself once again.

↬┊JIMIN

among the most graceful blues and the most comforting oranges, amidst all the hopeful yellows and beyond the most addictive purples, Jimin loved you the most when the entire world glowed with the most intense colors and nature played the most ethereal symphony in all the cosmos.

it was when the world shined brightest that Jimin loved you the most.

perhaps because Jimin retains in his heart all the fragments of celestial particles from the various ancient constellations that contained stories of endless lovers; perhaps the entire cosmos had sprinkled Jimin's soul with the immortal love of the oldest and most faithful gods; perhaps because you were framed by the magic sprinkled by the stars that painted you in fascinating golden and tender glowing tones; or perhaps because Jimin simply loved you and all this emotion was only heightened when the days were more colorful and life was more beautiful.

but what if you were the one who gave beauty to life? would that be possible?

in fact, Jimin couldn't think about his last grey day. when was the last time the turbulent clouds of the world's negativity hung over Jimin? when was the last time Jimin felt the need to grab all the crayons and color his life? he had no answer to such questions; for, it was since you entered Jimin's life that he saw his heart and soul being constantly painted in tones of affection and understanding.

yes. you were the one who gave beauty to life. it was you who painted Jimin's life and it was in the colors of your love and the contours of your passion that Jimin found all the happiness in his life. yes. Jimin loved you the most when life was more beautiful, because it was when he thought about the beauty of the world that he realized that all charm only existed because of you.

you, the cause of all the harmony in Jimin's life. you, the painter of Jimin's soul. you, the one Jimin loved the most.

↬┊TAEHYUNG

when the world seemed too big and all the storms were concentrated in one point, and all the darkness in the universe expanded beyond Taehyung's heart, and all the negativity in the world weighed heavily on his shoulders, Taehyung loved you the most when all the horror of a future and the fear of a past haunted his essence.

like a thick cloud hovering over him, Taehyung felt constantly defeated, as if life itself had given up on him and offered him only remnants of fragments of hope and dreams that didn't even seem real, not when felt and lived by Taehyung. and it was in those moments that Taehyung loved you the most.

fearing that his darkness would expand like a thick fog on winter days, Taehyung decided to love you, wanting to use the remaining fragments in every word exchanged, in every delicate touch; as if opening a window to let all the evil fly away, Taehyung loved you when he was most fearful about you, about his life.

in so much chaos, there was only one certainty. in so much chaos, there was only you.

and it was you that Taehyung had decided to love. and you were the one who brought the glue to put together all the leftover fragments into new hopes and dreams.

when Taehyung was scared, he knew he could love you, because it was in the waves of your love, in the clouds of your affection that he found his safe place, that haven of shelter that was always, and forever, there waiting for Taehyung. simply you. what evil could touch Taehyung when he was protected by the kindness of your heart? what darkness could consume Taehyung if he was enveloped in the light of your essence? what bad luck could strike Taehyung when he was with you, when he was loved by you.

and he just reciprocated. when the world got scarier, Taehyung returned all the love you gave him, always offering more than he could.

↬┊JUNGKOOK

among the smiles of thousands and the dreams of hundreds, amid so many promises and stories, in the refuge of various memories and details, Jungkook loved you the most when he believed.

it was when hope began to dawn on Jungkook that he could love you more. when Jungkook was consumed by that feeling so pure, so intense, only one goal moved Jungkook’s entire body: taking you in his arms, leaving the whole world silent for a few moments, Jungkook loved you.

it was the magic of possibilities, the complex spells of stories that could happen, the delicate dust of memories that could be fabricated — it was the idea of a future that made Jungkook love you more.

Jungkook knew from a very early time that it was you: the way your hearts beat in sync at the end of a date, the way your hands fit together perfectly, the way he only felt like himself by your side — you brought out the best in Jungkook, qualities and flaws that he learned to love because, quite simply, you loved them.

and Jungkook was sure it would always be you. that person who would wake up next to him when he was old and the music was too loud; that person who would hold his hand when the sun said goodbye to the day and tranquility stretched across the horizon.

in every way, you were always the one by Jungkook’s side in every future he could think of. and it was imagining these futures, creating plans for an eternal life by your side that he loved you most.

when Jungkook’s eyes shone most intensely, when his lips uttered the sweetest words, when his hands caressed you with grace — it was in the privacy of your home that Jungkook loved you the most, because it was there that he believed in a true love, in an eternal love that would go far beyond that physical life.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[kingofbodyrolls]

Coming Home (m) | pjm | masterlist

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

When your best friend, Park Jimin, who you’ve had a crush on since forever, suggests you stay at his house to heal and find yourself again after a series of traumatizing events had haunted you for years, you don’t hesitate to accept. Within those walls, a safe haven is woven, where wounds can heal and memories find release. As he nurtures your shattered spirit, an unexpected intimacy unfurls, leaving the fragile barrier between friendship and deeper emotions in question - can you keep your feelings hidden?

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader (female) → AUs: detective!au → Genre(s): angst, healing after trauma, slice of life, smut and fluff → Trope(s): childhood best friends to lovers → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)→ Total word count: 55.8k → Warnings + triggers: mention of past abuse and sexual assault (r*pe), attempted sexual assault, trauma, stalking, fighting, trust issues, insecurities, slightly thriller vibes, angst, fluff, explicit smut (multiple scenes), kissing, cuddling/spooning, unprotected sex (stay safe - OC’s on the pill), penetrative sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), slice of lice, healing after trauma (including therapy sessions), guns, BIG feelings, protective Jimin, previous character death (a parent), Jimin being soft and loving, self defense, humor, degrading words (whore and bitch). → Disclaimer about warnings: I know nothing about sexual or physical abuse (I only know psychological because I experienced that, not in a sexual context though). This story is fiction, I do not mean to say that this is how one would go through their emotions or handle this situation. This is a delicate and fragile subject, so proceed with caution. I also know nothing about police work or the work in emergency/hospitals. Also, I don’t own BTS or know how they would act in a similar situation. This story is purely fiction, a fragment of my imagination. They just inspire me so much 💜 → Author’s note: I don’t know what happened! I planned to write like 5K words to get back into writing and then boom 40K+ 😆I don’t really know how I feel about this story, but I wanted to post it because I finished something 🎉If it’s shit, I’m really sorry. Also, I just couldn’t decide which hair color to give Jimin, because I love all colors on him, so I settled with black 😊 → Read on AO3? [link]

→ Chapter 1: part 1 → Chapter 2: part 2 → Chapter 3: epilogue → Chapter 4: coming home to you (christmas extra)

→ Requested taglist: @thelilbutifulthings

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94 @parkitrighthere

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2023 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[unblissfulawareness]

My hcs about Ray's relationships that no one asked for:

Lacey Lumbar

They were toxic as shit towards each other all the time. The verbal abuse was pretty much maddening. They were constantly trying to 1-up each other and making each other feel less than.

Gwen

Entirely illegal. Non consensually drug induced. Likely didn't go any further than kissing though. She's got lesbian vibes

Evelyn Hall

Could've been toxic if it ever got anywhere. "You went from Captain Man to Cameraman" was hilarious, I don't care if he meant it as an insult. She did at least get a second date out of him and she's so god damn petty. Good for her tbh. Her and Mary should get together sometime.

Mary Gaperman

Lived in the same neighborhood for a while. They hung out a bunch and she took him to prom (canon). Sometimes he shows up at the news station just to chill

Credenza Fudgers

Used him. Had a bigger part in the Cell than he realized. Likely is the reason his powers are gone. Their relationship doesn't have a single real fragment in their foundation. Also nearly married his ex's wife so icon

Drex

They get freaky as fuck with that hand iykwim. Better wife material tbh

Frankini

Frankini tops in his frankini bottoms

Debbie

Domme with a humilation kink. Made him piss himself like four times in public and called him tickle-wazz for her own entertainment

Fran (stole this one from my own tumblr hence the caption)

Secretly his favorite. She's spicy, she's fun, and he's a bit butthurt that she won't date a sensitive guy. Makes her cardboard cut out of all seven members of BTS watch

Minyak and Cohort

Saw him across the TBD bar.

Schwoz

"Yeah he dates around but guess what, he's coming home to me!" used interchangeably, usually followed by a chuckle or trollish laugh. Emotional support. Schwoz takes care of Ray, Ray takes care of Schwoz, and that's what makes them so special tbh

Sharona Shapen

The only woman Ray very gladly handed over to Schwoz. Her appearance is very standard for Schwoz's country and he thinks she's beautiful and that's all there is to say on that (*cough cough* raw *cough*)

Kris Hart

Yeah yeah, that's clone Kris, idc.

Not as oblivious as she makes herself out to be. She's very loyal :) to her tennis instructor. She opened the marriage for that man. Ray is just her son's boss who sometimes maybe occasionally sleeps over as Captain Man. It definitely happened only once.

Jake Hart

Hate-fucked in the bathroom after this scene and never spoke of it again

[magic-shop-stories]

Hello! Hope you're doing well. Love your work! Can I request something slightly.. Maybe confusing?

Idk why but I've always felt that Yoongi and Namjoon have the potential to be attracted to similar people, given their ideologies and personalities. So what happens when they meet reader organically and feel drawn towards them?

I am not envisioning a love triangle per se, but only the illusion of one. Where both grow closer to reader but with namjoon, it indeed is just a solid friendship. Lovestruck but in denial Yoongi doesn't see it that way necessarily. At least initially. Maybe some angst there.

Therefore despite the reader showing interest back, it takes our honey boy a minute to get there, and finally it's all sorted. Yoongi and reader end up together and all their friends are happy for them!

Cold Storage: An Archive of Imperfect Notes

Pairings: Min Yoongi x Archivist!Reader (slow burn), Platonic Kim Namjoon x Reader Rating: R (M) Genre: angst, romance, hurt/comfort, fluff Warnings: alcohol use (whiskey), emotional confrontations (themes of self-doubt, fear of artistic irrelevance), mild language, jealousy, kissing (non-explicit) Word Count: ~ 3k

Description: As HYBE’s archivist, you’re a keeper of ghosts - demos, coffee-stained lyrics, and the jagged edges of artists’ past selves. But when Min Yoongi starts haunting the archives to resurrect his old mixtapes, his obsession with the boy he used to be collides with the man he’s become. Between debates about Rilke, Camus, and the stains on his notebooks, you’ll learn that some wounds outlive the knife… and some hearts only thaw in the cold.

💌 Reply:

Hi love! 💜 First off - THANK YOU for this brilliant request (and your kind words, my heart 🥹). I hope you don’t mind that I spun this into a full imagine/fic — your concept of Yoongi and Joon’s parallel pulls and the “illusion” of a triangle hit me like a TRUCK. As a Yoongi ult (he’s my first/last/always 🐱) and Namjoon bias-wrecker, I vibrated at the idea of their dynamic clashing over someone who challenges them - god, I wish I could thank you enough (you scratched my brain) I kept your vision sacred: no real triangle, just Yoongi’s honey-coated denial, Joon’s platonic muse vibes, and the angst of two artists fearing too much vulnerability (at least in my mind). Also, the others teasing Yoongi? I couldn't NOT do it If this isn’t what you pictured, I’ll happily tweak, but I hope it gives you that slow-burn, you deserved. Thank you for trusting me with this gem. Now go feed your brainrot, legend. 🖤 – c – 💜

Cold Storage: An Archive of Imperfect Notes

Cold Storage: An Archive of Imperfect Notes

Prologue: The Quiet Before the Storm

The archives room at HYBE was a cathedral of silence, if silence could hum.

You liked it that way; the steady whir of climate-controlled servers, the faint tang of aged paper clinging to your fingertips, the way dust motes drifted like static in the blue-tinted dark. Here, in the belly of the iconic building where music went to hibernate, you were more archaeologist than archivist. Unearthing demos from 2013 felt like brushing silt from fossils, each lyric sheet was a bone fragment of who BTS used to be.

You’d taken the job for the anonymity. Artists came to you as ghosts, through track lists scrawled in Sharpie, voice memos buried in hard drives, the occasional coffee ring staining a producer’s notes. They rarely came in person.

Until today.

The Catalyst

The door hissed open at 3:47 PM. You didn’t look up, fingers skating over the spine of a 2014 lyric journal. “If you’re here for the Dark & Wild masters, they’re digitizing in Bay 6.”

“Not here for Bang PD’s old angst,” a voice drawled. Dry, low, lacquered with a Daegu rasp. “Looking for mine.”

Your head snapped up.

Min Yoongi leaned against the doorframe, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His face was all angles under the archival LEDs. his sharp jaw, sharper eyes. You’d seen him before, of course. In hallways. Through the frosted glass of Studio 4, in the practice rooms... Never here, where the past was kept under lock and humidity controls.

“Am producing D-3,” he said, pushing off the frame. “Ten-year reissue. Need the raw stems. And the notebook I used back then. The black one.”

You blinked. “The one where you wrote ‘I want to scream but my throat is a cemetery’?”

His eyebrow twitched, he seemed impressed for a second. “…Yeah.”

You stood, chair screeching. “Physical copies are in Cold Storage. Digital’s accessible if you...”

“Want the physical.” He crossed his arms. “Need to see the… stains.”

Ah. The coffee spills, crossed out words - rewritten a hundred times, whatever sins of sentimentality survived a decade. You nodded, turning toward the steel vault door.

The archives chose that moment to spit out Kim Namjoon.

He materialized between shelves like a philosopher-king misplaced by time, hair tousled, glasses smudged. “Hyung? What’re you...”

“My mixtape’s getting a facelift,” Yoongi said, not taking his eyes off you. “You?”

Namjoon hefted a dog-eared copy of The Myth of Sisyphus. “Preparing speech on art as resilience. Need more Camus. And… something that doesn’t sound like a TED Talk.” He grinned, dimples cratering. “Help?”

You snorted. “Camus is a TED Talk. 1942 edition.”

Namjoon’s grin widened. “Then give me the director’s cut.”

Yoongi cleared his throat. Loudly. “Cold Storage?”

“Right.” You led them deeper into the archives, fluorescent lights flickering like a heartbeat monitor. Yoongi’s shadow loomed over your shoulder; Namjoon’s fingers trailed the shelves, dislodging years of dust.

The vault door groaned open. Yoongi stepped into the 12°C chill like a soldier entering a trench.

“Box S-13,” you said, gloved hands lifting a battered container. Inside lay the notebook, the pages warped, edges singed. “Handle with care. Literally.”

He took it like a relic. For a moment, his mask slipped, lips parted, eyes soft and startled, as if meeting a ghost. Then he sniffed. “Nostalgia’s a scam. This…” He flicked a page. “Kid was an idiot.”

You tilted your head. “Or you’re scared he’s smarter than you now.”

Yoongi froze.

Namjoon coughed; badly hiding a laugh.

“Growth isn’t a diss to who you were,” you continued, pulling a crate of Camus essays for Namjoon. “Just proof you survived.”

Yoongi’s gaze cut to you, calculating. “You psychoanalyze all the artists, or just the ones who peaked in 2014?”

“Only the ones who leave burn marks on their notebooks.” You nodded at the charcoal smudges on his thumb.

Namjoon burst out laughing. “Oh, I like her.”

Yoongi didn’t laugh. But his lips quirked, brief and begrudging. “Whatever. Thanks.” He turned to leave, then paused. “…Kid me. You think he’d hate me now?”

The question hung in the frozen air.

You considered the man clutching his past like a grenade. “He’d pity you.”

Yoongi’s brow furrowed.

“For thinking you had to choose between him and who you are now.”

For a heartbeat, the vault hummed with unsaid things. Then Yoongi huffed, tucking the notebook under his arm. “Tell Cold Storage to chill less. It’s fucking arctic in here.”

He left.

Namjoon lingered, thumbing through Camus. “‘The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart,’” he read aloud. Then, softer: “You believe that? That art outlives the artist?”

You handed him a first-edition Rebel. “Depends. What if the artist wants to fade? To let the work breathe without their shadow?”

He stilled, eyes narrowing behind smudged lenses. “…Are you always this dangerous?”

“Only to philosophers who quote dead Frenchmen at me.”

Namjoon’s laugh echoed off the vault walls. “Noted. But fair warning...” He leaned in, mock-conspiratorial. “Yoongi-hyung’s gonna be back. He hates losing debates.”

“Not a debate. A fact.”

“Even worse.” He winked, tucking the book under his arm. “Thanks, archivist.”

You watched him leave, unaware of the eyes burning into your back from the security feed in Studio 4... Yoongi, rewinding the footage, pausing on your smirk.

On the desk, his old notebook lay open to a scribbled line: I want to die - I want to live.

He hit replay.

The Dance

The HYBE cafeteria at midnight was a liminal space, flickering vending machines, the scent of stale coffee, and the ghost of Jungkook’s laughter echoing from a meme video left playing on a tablet. You sat hunched over a dog-eared Rilke collection, blue-light glasses slipping down your nose as Namjoon paced, reciting draft lines like incantations.

“Art as… a rebellion against entropy,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “No, too clinical. Art as... shit, what’s the equivalent for ‘intergenerational dialogue’?”

You tossed him a chocolate bar from your bag. “Try 유산 (legacy). Or 대화 (conversation). Depends if you want your audience to weep or nap.”

He caught it, dimples flashing. “Why not both?” Collapsing into the chair across from you, he ripped the wrapper with his teeth. “Help me murder this paragraph. It’s got three metaphors and zero soul.”

You leaned over his notebook, red pen slashing through a convoluted analogy about “sculpting time.” “Camus would disown you. Keep it raw. Like your ‘My heart was filled with straight lines only’ line in Trivia: Love.”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up. “You know that song?”

“I archive your old journals. You wrote that lyric after spilling green tea on Hegel.”

He barked a laugh, loud enough to startle a passing cleaner. “Okay, archivist. What’s raw but profound?”

You scribbled in the margin: “Art isn’t a relic... it’s the wound that outlives the knife.”

Namjoon stared, then slowly grinned. “…I’m stealing that.”

Yoongi found you two days later, arguing over the pronunciation of “Schwere” (heaviness) in Rilke’s “Archaic Torso of Apollo.”

“It’s sh-veh-reh,” you insisted, slamming a German dictionary on the archives desk. “Not shuh-wear. You’re butchering the Schmerz (pain).”

Namjoon leaned back, smug. “Hyung, back me up. It’s about feeling, not grammar.”

Yoongi hovered in the doorway, a box of 2015 demos under his arm. His black sweater rode up slightly as he shifted, frowning. “Why’s Rilke in my studio?”

“Speech,” you said, not looking up. “He’s romanticizing existentialism again.”

Namjoon tossed a crumpled post-it at Yoongi. “They’re ruthless. Tell them schwere (heaviness) is subjective.”

Yoongi caught it, squinting at the scribbled lines. Art isn’t a relic - it’s the wound that outlives the knife. His jaw twitched. “Sounds like a  D-2 B-side.” He dropped the demos on your desk. “Need these scanned. And the notebook from last week.”

You frowned. “You’ve requested that notebook three times.”

He met your gaze, unblinking. “I like the stains.”

His visits became clockwork.

Tuesdays at 4 PM

“The 2016 tour schedules. For… chronology.”

Thursdays at 7 PM

“Original First Love lyrics. The ones with the coffee rings.”

Each time, he lingered; arguing over tracklists, scoffing at your critiques, circling back to debates about his old self.

“Reissue Track 5 should be The Last pt.2 ,” you said one evening, sliding the old demo across the desk.

Yoongi stiffened. “Too raw. People won’t get it.”

“Or you’re scared they will.”

He leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. The small 7 on his shoulder peeked out, a silent confession. “You think you know me because you’ve digitized my angst?”

“I think The Last saved someone once. Maybe you.”

He held your stare, the air thickening like storm clouds. Then he snatched the demo. “Track 5 stays Agust D - WHO?.”

But the next day, the tracklist update included The Last pt.2.

It was Namjoon who shattered the détente.

You’d met him in the cafeteria again, debating the ethics of AI-generated art. His laugh, warm and booming, carried across the room as you mocked his “algorithms can’t cry” argument.

Yoongi walked in just as you tossed a sugar packet at Namjoon’s chest.

“ So if a robot writes a love song,” you said, grinning, “...is it plagiarism or progress?”

Namjoon caught the packet, eyes crinkling. “Depends if it’s got soul. Like your Rilke edits., but probably not.”

Yoongi froze, tray in hand. His knuckles whitened around a cup of bitter black coffee.

Of course it’s Joon.

He left without a word.

That night, Yoongi stormed the archives.

“Seesaw,” he demanded, slamming a hand on your desk. “The original first-demo. Now.”

You didn’t flinch. “...it’s 11 PM.”

“And?”

“You’ve listened to Seesaw a thousand times. Why now?”

His throat bobbed. “Need to remember why I wrote it.”

You swiveled to the server, pulling up the file. The demo played, raw, unpolished, Yoongi’s voice cracking on “I’m afraid I’ll get used to this pain,” - a line that didn't make it too the final track.

He stood rigid, back to you.

“You wrote it because you were tired of balancing pride and regret,” you said softly. “Because vulnerability felt like failure.”

Yoongi spun, eyes blazing. “You don’t...”

“Know you?” You stood, meeting his glare. “I know the boy who scribbled ‘I need u’ in margins. Who still comes here to argue with his ghost when noone is looking, but I see.”

He stepped closer, heat radiating off him. “And what do you get from this? Playing therapist to fucked-up artists?”

“Maybe I like the company.”

A beat. His gaze dropped to your lips.

The door creaked.

Namjoon poked his head in, blissfully oblivious. “Archivist! Need your take on Nietzsche’s ‘eternal recurrence’ for the speech... Oh. Am I interrupting?”

Yoongi jerked back, cheeks flushed. “No.”

“Yes,” you said.

Namjoon glanced between you, smirk blooming. “I’ll… come back.”

Yoongi left without another word, but not before you spotted the tremor in his hands; the same tremor from the day he’d first held his old notebook.

The Fracture

The air in Studio 4 was always sterile, a vacuum sealed against the outside world. But tonight, it felt like a tomb.

Yoongi had been playing his  The Last pt.2 draft on loop for hours, the demo’s jagged bassline gnawing at the soundproof walls. His fingers hovered over the mixing board, tweaking the same three-second clip - “I built my pride from broken glass”, until the words lost meaning.

He didn’t hear the door open. You were one of the few people in the company with keys to almost every room.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Your voice cut through the noise. Yoongi’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn. “Busy.”

“Bullshit.” You stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you. “You haven’t answered a single text. Skipped the archives all week. What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong. The track pulsed, raw and unpolished. “The Last pt.2” was supposed to be a sequel, closure for the boy who wrote “I want to die” in smudged ink years ago. Instead, it felt like a relapse.

“MIN YOONGI.”

He spun, chair screeching. “Why’re you here? Shouldn’t you be helping Joon craft his precious speech?”

The venom startled you. “He asked me to rehearse. That’s all.”

Yoongi scoffed, jabbing a finger at the screen. “Saw you. Foreheads touching, hands all... whatever. Looked cozy.”

You blinked. “I was stopping him from clicking his pen. He does it when he’s nervous. You know that.”

“Do I?” He stood abruptly, knocking over a half-empty glass of whiskey. The liquid seeped into his notebook, blurring the notes as he shoved past you. “Doesn’t matter. Got a producer meeting.”

“At midnight?”

“Yes.”

You blocked the door. “Talk to me.”

His laugh was brittle. “About what? How you’ve got Joon wrapped around your finger? How he looks at you like you’re his damn muse?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He stepped closer, the whiskey on his breath sharp and sour. “You quote his lyrics, fix his speeches, laugh at his jokes... fuck, you even know how he takes his coffee. What’s next? Translating his diary?”

You flinched. “It’s not like that. Also you only drink decaf, iced...”

“Sure.” He yanked the door open. “Have fun crafting legacies.”

Rooftop, 1:14 AM

The wind bit through Yoongi’s sweater as Namjoon found him slumped against the guardrail, whiskey glass dangling from his fingers.

“You look like hell,” Namjoon said, settling beside him.

“Feel like it.”

A beat. The city below hummed, indifferent.

“They quoted The Last in my speech today,” Namjoon said quietly.

Yoongi stiffened.

“Not the lyrics. The… feeling. Said it reminded them that art isn’t about permanence. It’s about…” He paused. “'The courage to shatter what you’ve built.'”

Yoongi’s throat tightened.His line, from the 2016 notebook, unreleased.

Namjoon turned, gaze piercing. “They’ve been stealing your words to fix mine this whole time. Not because they’re mine... because they’re yours.”

The glass trembled in Yoongi’s hand. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re an idiot.” Namjoon’s voice softened. “They’re not my muse, hyung. They’re yours. Always have been.”

Yoongi stared at the amber liquid, the reflection of his own fractured face staring back.

“You gonna keep hiding in demos?” Namjoon stood, clapping his shoulder. “Or write a new verse?”

Studio 4, 2:03 AM

The door creaked open again.

You froze, breath catching.

Yoongi stood in the threshold, The Last pt.2 still looping. His eyes were red-rimmed, hair a mess, but his voice steadied the storm.

“I’m… shit at this.”

“At what?”

“Talking. Feeling. All of it.” He stepped inside, the door shutting with a soft click. “But I’m worse at pretending I don’t.”

The track swelled - “I built my pride from broken glass” - as he closed the distance.

“Joon’s right,” he muttered, gaze dropping to your lips. “I’m an idiot.”

The space between you crackled.

“Prove it,” you whispered.

He didn't, not yet...

 The Harmony

The archives hummed with the static of a thousand dormant stories, the air thick with the scent of ink and longing.

Yoongi stood in the center of the room, his back to you, shoulders tense as he rifled through a box of 2018 demos. The small 7 on his shoulder peeked out beneath his tank top, a silent testament to loyalty, and fear.

“You left this in Studio 4.”

He froze at your voice.

You held up his old notebook, the one with the warped pages and coffee-stained edges. It fell open to “I need u”, the words circled in red, your own scribble bleeding into the margin: “I need you too.”

Yoongi didn’t turn. “Thought you’d be with Joon.”

“Stop.” Your voice cracked. “Stop pretending you don’t see me.”

He spun, eyes dark and stormy. “See what? You quoting my lyrics to fix his speeches? Laughing at his jokes? Holding his damn hand...”

“To stop him from clicking his pen!” You repeated and stepped closer, the notebook trembling in your grip. “You think I care about his speeches? About legacies? I’ve been here every night, waiting for you to look up from your damn demos and see me!”

Yoongi’s breath hitched.

You thrust the notebook at him. “You want to know why I memorized The Last notes? Why I stayed late every time you asked for another mixtape? It wasn’t for the music, you idiot. It was for you.”

The archives fell silent, save for the whir of servers.

Yoongi stared at the notebook, your confession etched beside his oldest wound. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw. “I thought… I was just another track to you. Something to analyze and shelve.”

“You were never just anything.”

He looked up, vulnerability stripping him bare. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestured between you, the air crackling. “Wanting someone who… who knows all the broken parts.”

You closed the distance, your fingers brushing his. “Then stop hiding in your demos.”

His gaze dropped to your lips. “What if I ruin it?”

“You won’t.”

The kiss was a crescendo; slow at first, tentative, then desperate. Yoongi’s hands cradled your face like you were the last fragile tape in the archives, his lips soft but insistent, tasting of whiskey and unsung verses. The shelves pressed into your back, demos scattering like imperfect notes around your feet. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging gently as he deepened the kiss, a silent plea for more, more, more...

“Took you long enough,” a voice drawled.

You broke apart, breathless. Namjoon leaned against the doorway, tossing a USB drive at Yoongi. It landed at your table, labeled “Hyung’s Love Song (Finally)” in Sharpie.

Yoongi glared, cheeks flushed. “How long were you...?”

“Long enough to know you owe me 50,000 won.” Namjoon smirked. “Jin-hyung bet on tonight. I said you’d chicken out till dawn.”

Yoongi flipped him off, but his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to his side.

[Bonus] Epilogue: One Month Later

The OT7 group chat exploded at 8 PM.

Jin: [photo of Yoongi feeding you kimchi jjigae in the cafeteria] “Grandpa’s first date since 2014!!! Transfer payments, children.”

Jungkook: “WAIT THEY'RE REAL???”

Hobi: “I TOLD YOU ALL IT WAS THE ARCHIVES. PAY UP!!!”

Taehyung: [Screenshots of Yoongi’s Spotify wrapped] “Since when does hyung listen to Rilke ASMR??”

Yoongi: “Fuck off.”

You: [photo of the USB plugged into Yoongi’s laptop, titled “Love Song (Draft)”] “Track 1: ”Not Yet” 👀”

Namjoon: “Finally.”

END

[1343401]

echos of the sea - chapter two

pairing: bts x reader

status: ongoing

word count: 8.1 k

warnings: depictions of violence, death, family trauma, insecurities, mentions of blood

prev | next | m.list

jiah groggily opened her eyes to the blinding glare of sunlight filtering through a cracked window, illuminating the dust swirling lazily in the still air. she blinked a few times, trying to make sense of her surroundings. the room was hot, cramped, and carried a musty scent that reminded her of damp basements. the sheets beneath her were rough, thin, and faintly sour, as if they hadn't been properly washed in weeks. her fingers brushed against the fraying edges, and a sense of unease settled in her stomach.

all around her, bunk beds were crammed into the narrow space, stacked high with layers of worn blankets and tattered pillows. the walls were bare, the plaster chipped and peeling, exposing the wood beneath. the floor beneath her feet was cold, the chill seeping through her skin, making her shiver despite the warmth in the room. it felt like a scene from some outdated summer camp, a far cry from the life she knew.

the murmur of distant voices filled the air, mingling with the creak of bedsprings and the rustle of fabric. jiah sat up slowly, her head spinning, trying to make sense of the cacophony. it was so loud. she hadn't heard this much noise in a long time, not since she'd been living alone, surrounded by the quiet hum of her apartment and the occasional city sounds outside her window.

"get up! you're going to be late!"

the sharp voice broke through her muddled thoughts, snapping her attention to the foot of her bed. a girl, maybe her age, stood there, holding what looked like a faded tunic. her face was drawn with worry, her hands fidgeting nervously with the fabric. her clothes were simple, worn out, and practical, nothing like the comfortable loungewear jiah would've chosen for herself.

jiah stared at her, confusion clouding her features. "who...?" the word barely escaped her lips before the girl leaned in, her voice a harsh whisper.

"hurry! you'll be in trouble if you don't get moving!" there was an urgency in her tone that jiah couldn't ignore, even if she didn't understand why.

trouble? for what? where was she?

her heart thudded in her chest as she glanced around again, trying to piece together what was happening. the dim, crowded room, the unfamiliar faces, the strange girl urging her to get up, it didn't add up. this wasn't her home. this wasn't her life.

she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold, rough floor. she winced at the chill, momentarily grounding herself in the sensation. it was too real, too vivid to be a dream.

the other girl hovered by the bed, her eyes darting around as if checking to see if anyone else was watching. "you've been acting strange lately," she murmured, her voice softening. "are you feeling okay?"

strange? jiah's mind raced. she didn't recognize this girl or this place. why was she here? how did she get here? her memories were a blur, fragments of her old life barely within reach.

"where..." jiah started, then stopped, unsure how to frame the question without sounding insane. "where am i supposed to be?"

the girl gave her an odd look, a mix of concern and impatience. "you really hit your head, didn't you? come on, let's get you dressed. you don't want to get in trouble again."

again? jiah felt a cold sweat break out on her skin. the girl's words implied a routine, a history that jiah didn't share but was somehow expected to remember. her thoughts spiraled, panic bubbling beneath the surface. she needed to figure this out. now.

the girl pressed the tunic into jiah's hands, giving her a small, encouraging smile. "let's just get through today, okay?"

jiah nodded slowly, though she was far from understanding. the noise around her grew louder, the shuffle of feet and murmurs blending into a dizzying symphony. she clutched the tunic, the coarse fabric scratching her palms, and tried to steady her breathing.

this had to be a mistake, a dream, or a strange, vivid nightmare. yet, the cold floor beneath her feet, the worn sheets, and the girl's anxious expression told her otherwise. somehow, she was here, in this unfamiliar place, expected to play a role she didn't know.

jiah trudged after the girl, her feet dragging slightly as they left the cramped quarters behind. the girl moved with a practiced ease, her steps light but purposeful, while jiah struggled to keep up. the corridor they entered was dimly lit, the stone walls cool and damp to the touch, a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the bunk room. the faint scent of mildew lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of baked bread drifting from somewhere in the distance.

"you're really out of it today," the girl remarked, glancing over her shoulder. her tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of genuine concern in her eyes. "did you sleep at all last night?"

jiah forced a weak smile, her mind racing. "yeah... just a weird night, i guess." she hoped the vague response would satisfy the girl, giving her a moment to gather her thoughts.

"well, you'd better snap out of it soon. we don't have time for weird nights," the girl chided gently, though there was no malice in her voice. she gestured ahead, where the corridor opened into a larger space. "come on, we need to hurry. you know how she gets when we're late."

jiah's heart skipped a beat. "she?" the word slipped out before she could stop herself, and the girl raised an eyebrow, her pace slowing.

"you know, her." the girl's eyes widened slightly, as if jiah had just asked the most ridiculous question. "don't tell me you've forgotten about the princess already?"

princess? jiah swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. she couldn't afford to let on how lost she felt. "oh, right," she mumbled, trying to keep her voice steady. "just... foggy this morning."

the girl sighed, offering a sympathetic smile. "maybe you should see the healer later. you're acting really strange today." she didn't press further, thankfully, instead turning her attention back to the path ahead. "let's just get through this morning. the last thing we need is another lecture."

they walked in silence for a few moments, the girl leading the way with a familiarity that jiah envied. every corner they turned, every hallway they passed, seemed like a blur to her, as if she were walking through a dream that wasn't quite her own.

"so," the girl began again, her voice light and conversational, "did you hear about the storm last night? some of the sailors said it was the worst they've seen in years."

"storm?" jiah echoed, struggling to keep up with the casual conversation. "no... i didn't."

"you must've been really out of it." the girl chuckled softly, shaking her head. "it was intense. lightning, thunder, the works. some people say it's a bad omen, but you know how superstitious they can be." she glanced at jiah, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "what do you think?"

jiah hesitated, unsure how to respond. "i guess... storms are just storms. nothing to get worked up about."

the girl laughed, the sound echoing softly off the stone walls. "you're probably right. but it doesn't hurt to be a little cautious, you know?"

jiah nodded, though she felt anything but confident. her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, each step she took only deepening the sense of unease that clung to her like a second skin.

"anyway," the girl continued, her tone brightening, "we'll just have to make sure the princess doesn't catch wind of it. you know how she gets with bad news."

jiah forced another smile, her stomach churning. "yeah... wouldn't want to upset her."

they reached a set of large wooden doors, the intricate carvings on the surface hinting at the importance of what lay beyond. the girl paused, turning to jiah with a knowing look. "this is it. you ready?"

jiah swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers clenching the fabric of her tunic. "ready as i'll ever be."

the girl grinned, patting her on the shoulder. "you'll be fine. just don't forget to curtsy. you know how she is about formalities." with that, she pushed open one of the doors, revealing a grand hallway bathed in the soft glow of morning light streaming through tall, arched windows.

the contrast between the damp, cold corridors and the opulence of this space was jarring. polished marble floors reflected the intricate designs painted on the ceilings, and the air here smelled faintly of lavender and beeswax. jiah felt her breath hitch, the grandeur of the place overwhelming her senses.

the girl motioned for jiah to follow, her steps quickening as they approached another set of doors at the far end of the hall. "let's get this over with," she whispered, casting a sideways glance at jiah. "just follow my lead, and you'll be fine."

jiah nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as they neared the doors. the girl raised a hand to knock, but before she could, she turned to jiah, her expression softening.

"don't worry too much, okay? you've done this a hundred times before. just breathe."

jiah nodded again, her mind a whirl of questions she couldn't ask, fears she couldn't voice. she took a deep breath, steeling herself as the girl knocked lightly on the door, the sound echoing in the stillness of the grand hallway.

the door creaked open, and the girl slipped inside, beckoning jiah to follow. jiah's legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to move, stepping into the room beyond.

the air inside was heavy with the scent of jasmine, and the light was softer here, filtered through gauzy curtains that billowed gently in the morning breeze. the bed was a lavish canopy, draped in silken fabrics that whispered against each other as they moved. it was a room fit for royalty, every detail meticulously crafted to exude luxury and power.

jiah's eyes landed on the figure in the bed, still and serene, the rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life. the girl stepped forward, her voice low and soothing.

"good morning, your highness. it's time to wake up."

jiah held her breath, the reality of the situation crashing down on her like a tidal wave. she was in a novel. a story she had read and despised, a world she never thought she would have to navigate herself. and now, she was standing in the room of the very character who had made her blood boil on countless nights.

she was in whispers of the sea.

yiseo stirred beneath the soft covers, her eyes fluttering open to the sound of the gentle voice calling her. she let out a soft groan, stretching her arms above her head before turning to look at the two figures standing by her bed. her eyes landed on the girl first, and she smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "good morning," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

then her gaze shifted to jiah, and her smile widened, warming significantly. "jiah, you're here."

jiah felt her chest tighten at the familiarity in yiseo's tone, the way her name rolled off the princess's tongue as if they'd shared countless mornings like this. she forced a smile, willing herself to stay calm. "good morning, yiseo. did you sleep well?"

yiseo sat up, pushing her tousled hair back from her face. "as well as one can in this place." she chuckled softly, glancing at the girl. "thank you for waking me, but you can leave us now. i'd like to speak with jiah."

the girl nodded obediently, giving jiah a quick smile before slipping out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

yiseo patted the space beside her on the bed, motioning for jiah to sit. "come on, sit with me. we don't have to rush right away."

jiah hesitated for a moment before moving to sit beside yiseo. the bed was impossibly soft beneath her, a stark contrast to the rough, hand-me-down sheets she'd woken up in.

"you look a bit pale," yiseo observed, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern. "are you feeling alright?"

"just a little tired," jiah admitted, keeping her voice light. "it's been... a strange morning."

yiseo tilted her head, her brow furrowing. "strange? how so?"

jiah paused, considering her words carefully. she couldn't exactly tell yiseo the truth. especially not when she was still grappling with it herself. "i guess i just had some odd dreams last night. they're sticking with me, that's all."

yiseo reached out, taking jiah's hand in hers and squeezing it gently. "you've been working too hard, haven't you? i've noticed how much you've been doing lately. you should rest more."

the genuine concern in yiseo's voice made jiah's heart ache. this wasn't the yiseo she remembered from the book, the spoiled princess who made selfish choices that led to chaos. this yiseo was warm, caring. a true friend.

"i'll try," jiah promised, squeezing yiseo's hand back. "but you know how things are. there's always something that needs doing."

"true," yiseo agreed, a wistful smile playing at her lips. "but you shouldn't have to carry so much alone. i'll speak with the others, see if we can't lighten your load a bit."

jiah blinked, surprised by the offer. "you don't have to do that."

"of course i do." yiseo's tone was firm, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. "you're my friend, jiah. and friends look out for each other."

the word "friend" echoed in jiah's mind, grounding her in the reality of this moment. yiseo saw her as more than just a servant. she saw her as a companion, someone she trusted and cared for. it was a stark contrast to the distant, haughty image jiah had built of her from the pages of the novel.

"thank you," jiah said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

yiseo smiled again, releasing jiah's hand and rising from the bed. "well, let's not dwell on strange dreams and worries. we have a full day ahead of us." she moved toward the wardrobe, pulling it open to reveal an array of finely tailored dresses in a rainbow of colors. "help me choose what to wear?"

jiah stood, moving to join yiseo by the wardrobe. "of course."

as yiseo held up a delicate sky-blue gown with silver embroidery, jiah couldn't help but marvel at how different this version of yiseo was from the one she'd come to despise in the book. maybe things weren't as simple as they seemed on the page. maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to change the story. to steer it toward a better ending.

"this one?" yiseo asked, holding the gown against her body and twirling slightly.

jiah nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "it's perfect."

"great." yiseo beamed, laying the dress on the bed before turning back to jiah. "thank you, jiah. i don't know what i'd do without you."

"you'd manage," jiah said, her tone teasing. "but i'm glad i'm here to help."

as yiseo slipped into the sky-blue gown, her demeanor shifted subtly, a flicker of the entitled princess beginning to surface. she glanced at herself in the ornate mirror, turning this way and that, examining the fit of the dress with a critical eye.

"ugh," she sighed, brushing her hair back with a frustrated flick of her hand. "this dress feels a bit tight. do you think i've gained weight?"

jiah, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, shook her head quickly. "no, you look perfect, yiseo."

yiseo pouted, smoothing her hands over the fabric. "it doesn't feel perfect. everything should feel perfect." she turned to jiah, her eyes narrowing slightly. "are you sure it looks alright? or are you just saying that because you're my friend?"

"i'm sure," jiah reassured her, though she could sense the shift in the atmosphere. "the dress fits beautifully."

yiseo sighed again, clearly dissatisfied despite jiah's words. "i suppose it will have to do for today. i just hate feeling like things aren't exactly the way they should be. you understand, don't you?"

jiah nodded slowly, though she didn't completely understand. yiseo's world was one of luxury and privilege, where small imperfections felt like monumental issues. it was a stark contrast to jiah's reality, both in her life before and now, where making do with what little she had was the norm.

"maybe you could mention it to the seamstress," jiah offered carefully. "she could make some adjustments."

yiseo perked up at the suggestion, her eyes brightening. "yes, that's a good idea. she needs to understand how important it is for my clothes to fit perfectly. after all, appearances are everything." she turned back to the mirror, adjusting the neckline of the gown. "and if she can't get it right, maybe it's time to find someone who can."

jiah bit her tongue, choosing not to respond to that last comment. she didn't want to argue with yiseo, especially not when the princess's mood could swing so easily. instead, she focused on keeping her expression neutral.

"you're right," yiseo continued, oblivious to jiah's discomfort. "i can't be seen in something that doesn't fit exactly as it should. i have an image to maintain."

jiah offered a tight smile, feeling a pang of frustration. this was the yiseo she recognized from the novel. the one who was so wrapped up in her own world that she couldn't see beyond it. but she reminded herself that this was only a part of yiseo, not the whole.

"shall we go?" jiah suggested, eager to move on from the conversation.

yiseo gave herself one last glance in the mirror before nodding. "yes, let's. i have so much to do today, and we can't waste any more time."

they walked through the hallways of the palace, yiseo leading the way with a grace that came naturally to her. her chin was slightly lifted, and her steps were measured, every movement calculated to exude elegance. jiah followed closely, her mind swirling with thoughts about how to handle yiseo's capricious nature.

"jiah," yiseo called over her shoulder, her voice sweet yet demanding. "do you think the others will notice if i wear this dress again? i can't bear the thought of them thinking i'm repeating outfits."

"i doubt they'll notice," jiah replied, hoping to ease her concerns. "and even if they do, they'll only admire how beautiful you look in it."

yiseo stopped abruptly, turning to face jiah with a dramatic sigh. "but what if they don't? what if they think i'm becoming... ordinary?" her eyes widened at the thought, as if being perceived as ordinary was the greatest tragedy imaginable.

"you could never be ordinary, yiseo," jiah said, her voice firm. "you have a presence that no one else can match. people admire you for more than just your clothes."

yiseo seemed to ponder this for a moment before nodding, though her expression remained doubtful. "you're right. still, it wouldn't hurt to have a few new gowns made. something even more stunning than this one. i'll speak to the seamstress about it."

jiah nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself. the extravagance of yiseo's life was overwhelming at times, especially when compared to her own modest existence. but she reminded herself that this was yiseo's reality, a world where appearances and social status were everything.

as they continued down the hall, yiseo's attention shifted to the décor around them. "don't you think these tapestries are a bit dull?" she gestured to the intricately woven fabrics hanging along the walls. "they've been here for ages. we should replace them with something more vibrant, more... now."

"they're beautiful," jiah offered, her voice careful. "but if you feel they need updating, i'm sure the palace decorators would be happy to help."

"exactly," yiseo said, her tone triumphant. "we need to keep things fresh. otherwise, people will think we're stuck in the past."

jiah followed silently, her thoughts racing. yiseo's need for constant change and perfection was exhausting, but it was clear that this was how she coped with the pressures of her position. it was a facade, a way to maintain control in a world where so much was expected of her.

as they reached the grand staircase leading to the lower levels of the palace, yiseo paused, a playful smile spreading across her face. "jiah, do you remember when we used to slide down these stairs as children?"

jiah blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in mood. "slide down the stairs? i... i think i remember."

"we'd get scolded every time," yiseo continued, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "but it was so much fun. sometimes, i wish we could do it again."

jiah smiled softly, seeing a glimpse of the carefree girl beneath yiseo's polished exterior. "maybe we can, someday."

yiseo laughed, a light, musical sound that echoed through the hallway. "someday, perhaps. but not today. i have too much to do, and you have to help me stay on schedule."

they descended the staircase, yiseo's laughter fading as they approached the bustling heart of the palace. servants moved about, their heads bowed as they carried out their duties. yiseo barely noticed them, her attention already shifting to the day ahead.

"jiah, make sure to remind me about the tea party this afternoon," yiseo instructed. "and we need to go over the guest list for the ball next week. i can't have anyone attending who doesn't meet my standards."

"of course," jiah said, her voice steady, though she felt a pang of sympathy for the people who would inevitably be excluded from yiseo's carefully curated events.

as they walked through the palace, yiseo's gaze flitted from one thing to another, her mind constantly assessing and critiquing. "these flowers are wilting," she noted, frowning at a vase of roses. "replace them with something fresh. and the music in the drawing room is too somber. we need something livelier."

jiah nodded, making mental notes of yiseo's demands. it was a never ending list of perfection, each request a reflection of yiseo's desire to maintain her image and control over her surroundings.

when they finally reached the door to yiseo's study, yiseo turned to jiah with a grateful smile. "thank you for always being here, jiah. i don't know what i'd do without you."

jiah's heart softened at the genuine gratitude in yiseo's eyes. despite her spoiled tendencies, there was a part of yiseo that truly valued their friendship. "you're welcome, yiseo. i'll always be here to help."

yiseo nodded, her expression serious. "good. because i need someone who understands me, someone who can keep me grounded." she reached out, squeezing jiah's hand briefly before letting go. "now, let's get started. go grab my dress for the party and bring it back." yiseo ordered ushering her back to the door.

jiah paused at the door, her fingers lingering on the handle. for a moment, she felt the weight of the task ahead press down on her, fetching the gown for yiseo, the tea party looming in the background, all of it so unfamiliar. the novel had never gone into detail about the intricacies of running a noblewoman's life, only the polished, flawless image of yiseo that the characters saw from a distance. but here, in the confines of the palace, jiah had to fill in the gaps. gaps she realized she didn't know how to navigate.

she walked slowly down the hall, her heart racing in a way she couldn't explain. the lavish tapestries on the walls, the intricate designs of the stone floors beneath her feet. everything screamed a world she didn't belong to. in her modern life, she had been self-sufficient, independent, her daily routine of work and survival leaving no space for extravagant tea parties or high-society duties. how was she supposed to understand all of this?

as she passed by a set of large windows, she caught her reflection in the glass. the sight made her pause. the unfamiliar maid's attire she wore, long, plain skirt and simple top, felt too restrictive, too much a part of a world she didn't know. it was just another reminder that she wasn't in control. her fingers absently twisted the hem of her sleeve as she walked, trying to push down the feeling of inadequacy rising within her.

it wasn't like she hadn't been in the novel's world before, she'd read it countless times, after all. but those were yiseo's stories, those were the pages that described the action and the beauty, the romance and the drama. they didn't show the little moments, the behind-the-scenes of keeping a high-born lady's life running. in the book, jiah had known everything. in real life, she was stumbling her way through it.

by the time jiah reached yiseo's personal chambers, she was mentally exhausted. she had only managed to retrieve the gown from a nearby closet, hands shaking as she folded it carefully in her arms. the lavender gown was beautiful, just as it had been described in the novel, soft, delicate, with intricate embroidery. it wasn't the hard part. the hard part was figuring out what came next.

she stepped into the study again, where yiseo was waiting, seated comfortably in one of the velvet armchairs by the window. yiseo's eyes flicked to the gown in jiah's arms, her gaze appreciative but not overly impressed.

"did you find it?" she asked, her voice calm, cool, and commanding.

jiah hesitated, unsure how to proceed. "yes," she replied softly, holding the dress out to yiseo. "here it is."

yiseo took the gown with a slight smile, examining it for a moment before turning her gaze back to jiah. there was something in the air, an unspoken expectation that had jiah on edge.

"are you sure you can manage this, jiah?" yiseo's voice was smooth, but jiah caught the edge of challenge in her tone.

jiah's heart skipped a beat. was this a test? was she supposed to be an expert in these matters? in the book, jiah had been more than capable. the maids were like family to yiseo, serving her faithfully without question. in the book, jiah would have known what to do. but here? she felt like a stranger in a world of rules and rituals she didn't understand.

"i... i think so," jiah said, forcing a smile, her voice uncertain. "i'll make sure everything is ready for the party."

yiseo raised an eyebrow but didn't press. instead, she stood, smoothing the gown between her fingers before handing it to jiah. "get me ready," she said simply, her tone turning curt again.

jiah nodded, swallowing hard. "of course."

as yiseo began to remove her current attire, jiah stood frozen, unsure where to start. she had no idea what she was doing. in the book, the maids had been described as knowing exactly how to attend to yiseo's every need, from her hair to her makeup to the perfect placement of her accessories. but jiah hadn't learned any of that.

the only thing she could think to do was unceremoniously lay out the gown on a nearby chair, hoping yiseo wouldn't notice her hesitation. yiseo glanced up at her, her expression unreadable as she stood by the mirror, her fingers brushing over her neck absentmindedly.

"i don't think you'll need to fuss over me too much," yiseo murmured, her voice light, almost teasing. "just... make sure it's perfect. i don't have time for mistakes today."

the words stung, even though jiah knew they weren't meant to. there was something about yiseo's perfect, composed exterior that made jiah feel even more out of place. she wasn't meant to be a mere maid. she was supposed to fit in, be an equal, part of this world. but the longer she stayed in it, the more she felt herself crumbling under the weight of it all.

"don't worry," jiah said softly, her voice steadying as she regained her composure. "it will be perfect."

it wasn't a lie. it would be perfect. she would make sure of it. it was just going to take some time for her to figure out how.

jiah moved quickly, helping yiseo slip into the gown with as much grace as she could muster. the fabric was smooth and cool against her skin, the delicate lavender hue accentuating yiseo's beauty in a way that felt almost impossible to achieve. jiah was struck by how flawless yiseo looked, standing in front of the mirror, her posture already impeccable, the gown draping around her like it had been made just for her. which, of course, it had.

"there," jiah said softly, stepping back to take it all in. "perfect."

yiseo turned slightly to face her, the light catching the delicate threads of the gown. her eyes flickered with something close to satisfaction. "you do know how to handle yourself, don't you?"

jiah smiled, though it was tinged with uncertainty. "i'll get better at it."

yiseo nodded approvingly. "good."

jiah stood there for a moment longer, her mind racing with the realization that she was still very much out of her depth. watching yiseo, so poised and confident in the gown, made her feel even more like an outsider. the way yiseo moved, with effortless grace, as though the world was designed to cater to her every need—it was a far cry from jiah's own existence in the real world.

but she couldn't afford to dwell on that. not now.

"are you ready for the tea party?" jiah asked, her voice steadying despite the nervous flutter in her chest. she had a job to do, after all. and she would do it—no matter how unfamiliar it felt.

yiseo turned away from the mirror and gave her a look that was somewhere between approval and mild amusement. "i suppose i am," she said, her tone just a hint warmer than usual. "but i'll need you to make sure everything is perfect. the guests expect nothing less."

jiah nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "i'll see to it, my lady."

the words felt awkward on her tongue, but she pressed on, her determination growing. she had to learn this world, and she had to learn it fast. the pressure of being here, in yiseo's life, made everything feel heightened. every action, every choice she made felt under scrutiny, as if her every step would determine her place in this new reality.

they walked out of the study together, yiseo's steps measured and deliberate, while jiah tried to match her pace, the weight of the gown she'd helped dress yiseo in still hanging in the air between them. the halls were bustling with maids and servants, each one moving with purpose, each knowing exactly what to do. jiah couldn't help but feel like she was an outsider in this world, every servant around her moving with a fluidity she couldn't quite replicate.

the tea party was set in an open area just beyond the stables, where the scent of fresh hay mingled with the light breeze, carrying the faintest trace of horses and nature. the tables were long and elegantly arranged under a canopy of tall, leafy trees that offered shade from the midday sun. the afternoon light filtered through the branches, casting soft shadows on the ground. delicate china teacups were carefully placed at each setting, and colorful pastries were arranged in neat, artful piles, a feast for both the eyes and the stomach. around the tables, noblewomen sat chatting, their voices rising and falling like a gentle melody, while the soft neighing of horses could be heard faintly in the distance.

it was an odd juxtaposition: nobility and rusticity. the horses, the fresh air, the dirt beneath their feet, it was a far cry from the polished grandeur of the palace, yet it suited yiseo's tastes somehow. there was an effortless grace to her as she sat at the head of the table, surrounded by well-wishers and dignitaries, her lavender gown billowing slightly in the breeze. she wore a serene expression, one that suggested both poise and a deep satisfaction, like she belonged to the world around her and the one that existed beyond it.

jiah stood at the far edge of the gathering, attempting to blend in as best she could. her position was one of service, and she felt the weight of it as she moved between the guests, offering refills of tea, replenishing the platters, and maintaining the illusion of being invisible to all but the most observant eyes. she did her best to maintain a quiet composure, though it felt nearly impossible with the buzz of conversation surrounding her and the heady fragrance of flowers in the air.

her gaze occasionally drifted toward the stables, where she could see the horses grazing lazily in their pens. the thought of the open stables had an odd allure to it. an escape from the artifice of the tea party, the pretense of nobility, and the constant clinking of teacups.

and then she saw him.

he stood by the stables, his back turned to her. the man's presence seemed almost otherworldly, a contradiction of softness and strength. his features were delicate, almost ethereal. his tan skin, kissed by the sun, seemed to glow with a quiet warmth, contrasting with the soft, wavy brown hair that fell around his face in perfect disarray. the sunlight glinted off the strands, casting an almost ethereal glow, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw and the subtle softness of his expression. there was something hauntingly beautiful about him, an unspoken allure that seemed to radiate from every movement he made.

his attire was simple, yet striking in its own way. his servant clothes, a muted beige tunic and brown trousers, fit him like a second skin, slightly worn from use but still undeniably well-crafted. the edges of his tunic were frayed just enough to show signs of long hours spent in service, but the way it draped over his frame was elegant, like it belonged on someone of a far higher station. it was as if the man himself refused to be defined by his clothing, his presence transcending any title or role.

there was something arresting about the way he moved. every step was measured, graceful, as though he was tethered to something more ancient than the world around him. but it was his features that truly captured jiah's attention. the way his eyes, dark and deep, seemed to hold a thousand secrets, and how his gaze never lingered too long on any one thing. it was as if he was always somewhere else, in a world where she couldn't follow. he was a man who didn't belong here. he has to be a main character, she thought to herself, her pulse quickening as she tried to make sense of the strange feeling stirring in her chest.

"jiah, are you staring?" a teasing voice broke through her thoughts, and she snapped her head to the side, startled.

minji, a maid who had been serving tea to one of the noblewomen, was standing beside her with an amused smile. "oh, i see what this is," she continued, her voice light and teasing. "you're caught up in taehyung's charm, aren't you?"

jiah blinked, her face flushing a little. "taehyung?" she repeated, her mind struggling to connect the man she had just seen with a name. "he's... a servant?"

minji laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "oh yes, but you should know better than anyone that he's no ordinary stable hand. you'd think he's a nobleman or even a lord with the way he holds himself. honestly, it's a bit ridiculous."

jiah's eyes darted back toward him, her heart skipping a beat as she watched him talk with one of the other stable hands. there was something almost regal in the way he held himself. the mystery, the quiet confidence, it was enough to make her wonder how someone like him could be relegated to such a lowly station. "he can't just be a servant," she muttered to herself, still incredulous. "there's something about him..."

"taehyung?" minji asked, arching an eyebrow. "you and i both know he's been here for years even though barely anyone knows much about him. i'm sure you've heard the rumors that he's got connections to pirates or that he's royalty in disguise, but i know you don't believe any of that nonsense" she gave jiah a sly look. "i wonder how long it'll take before he asks for your hand, hm? he'd have to ask her highness for permission first, of course."

jiah felt the heat rush to her cheeks. asking for my hand? the thought made her heart race with a strange mix of embarrassment and curiosity. "i—i don't think that's going to happen," she said quickly, but the teasing spark in minji's eyes made her second guess her certainty.

before she could say anything else, jiah's attention snapped back to taehyung as he began walking toward her, his gaze catching hers once again. for a moment, time seemed to slow, and her breath caught in her throat as his dark eyes locked onto hers. when he finally reached her, his gaze softened, locking with hers for a moment longer than necessary.

"jiah," he greeted, his voice like velvet, smooth and low. "it seems you're quite the observer. i couldn't help but notice your gaze wandering in my direction earlier."

jiah's breath caught in her throat, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. he noticed? she thought, mortified. "i—i wasn't staring," she stammered, but it came out weaker than she had intended.

taehyung's smile curled into something playful, as if savoring her discomfort. "oh, but i'm certain you were. it's not every day someone as striking as me passes by. i'm sure your eyes couldn't resist a second glance," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"that's... that's not what i—" jiah trailed off, realizing that every attempt to defend herself only seemed to make it worse.

taehyung, seemingly enjoying the flustered effect he had on her, took a step closer, his voice lowering. "careful, jiah. if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you're enamored with me." he gave a small wink, though there was something more calculating behind it than simple flirtation.

jiah felt her skin heat even more. she opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words, unsure of what to say without making the situation more awkward.

taehyung didn't wait for an answer. he straightened up, his smile broadening. "well, i suppose i'd better go before you fall completely under my spell. wouldn't want to make things too easy," he added with a teasing tone, as if daring her to say something else.

he turned away with a final glance over his shoulder, his voice drifting back to her in a playful murmur: "and don't worry, jiah. if you're thinking of stealing a glance later, i'll pretend i didn't notice."

jiah stood frozen, her heart thudding in her chest, her mind spinning with everything he'd just said. he has to be teasing, she thought, but the way he said it... it felt like something more. what did he mean by all that?

as taehyung walked away, his presence lingered in the air, and jiah felt the heat rising in her cheeks. her eyes stayed fixed on him, but when he turned the corner, she blinked and quickly looked away, feeling a sharp tug in her chest. he's different, she thought. so different from anyone else here.

"you know, you're not exactly subtle, jiah."

jiah froze, her face going pale at the familiar teasing voice. she turned to find minji standing next to her, a knowing grin on her face. minji didn't need to say more; her expression said it all. caught.

"what? i wasn't staring," jiah protested, trying and failing to keep the blush from staining her cheeks. "i just... i was making sure everything was in place for the party."

minji raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "making sure the stable boy's in place, you mean?" she teased. "you're the worst liar, jiah."

"minji, stop," jiah said, her voice dropping to a whisper, though she was clearly flustered. "it's not what you think."

"oh, it's exactly what i think," minji said with a chuckle. "you've had that crush on him for years now."

"what?" jiah blurted out, her eyes widening. she froze, not sure whether she had heard her correctly. years? she hadn't realized she had been that obvious, especially now that she was in this strange new world. had she really been pining for him this whole time? wait... i didn't even know he was important in the book!

minji crossed her arms, her smile turning into something much more knowing. "oh, come on, jiah. i've seen that look on your face since you were both just children. you think i didn't notice?"

"i didn't think it was so obvious!" jiah stammered, her heart racing. book jiah had a crush on him for years? jiah could hardly wrap her mind around it. she hadn't even known who taehyung was until today.

minji leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "please. every time taehyung walked in the room, i could practically see your heart skip a beat. don't even try to deny it."

"it's not like that," jiah muttered, though her words sounded weak even to her own ears. was it?

"really?" minji asked, her tone dripping with amusement. "then why are you looking at him now, like you're about to faint?"

jiah tried to focus on the ground, doing everything she could to avoid minji's teasing gaze. there's no way this is happening, she thought, trying to steady her breathing. but even as she tried to brush it off, she couldn't stop thinking about taehyung's presence.

before jiah could respond, someone called out from across the courtyard. "oh, hey, taehyung!"

jiah's gaze snapped over to the voice, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw him again, standing tall and effortlessly graceful by the stable doors. he's unreal, jiah thought, her heart beating wildly in her chest. how could anyone look like that?

"he's too beautiful," jiah whispered under her breath without meaning to. "he can't just be a stable boy."

minji's grin grew even wider, clearly enjoying every moment of jiah's discomfort. "he's a lot of things, jiah. but yes, he's definitely not just a stable boy."

as taehyung greeted the other servants, minji shot jiah a sly look. "so, do you think he's going to ask for your hand anytime soon?"

jiah's eyes went wide, and she almost choked on her own breath. "w-what?"

"oh, you know," minji continued, her voice light and teasing. "i've heard rumors. they say he's just waiting for the perfect moment to ask for your hand. but," she added with a wink, "he'll probably have to ask her highness's for permission first. you know, considering who you work for."

jiah's face flamed red at the suggestion. "that's ridiculous!" she sputtered. "he would never—"

"never?" minji interrupted, clearly enjoying every moment of this. "never? jiah, don't be so naive. i've seen the way he looks at you. you're both clearly... entangled in something."

jiah could hardly breathe, let alone respond. taehyung? asking for her hand? that's impossible. isn't it?

before she could collect herself, minji nudged her gently. "don't worry too much. maybe he'll ask. maybe he won't. but i can guarantee, jiah... you're never going to forget how he makes you feel."

jiah didn't know how to reply. the thought of taehyung, of all people, looking at her with anything more than friendly indifference, was... well, it was too much for her to handle right now.

but she couldn't ignore the way her heart fluttered in her chest. not when minji was so right. taehyung wasn't just a stable boy.

jiah couldn't stop thinking about minji's words as the tea party continued, each passing moment making her more aware of taehyung's presence just beyond the stable. she tried to focus on yiseo, on the party, on the sparkling conversation and laughter that surrounded her. but all she could hear was the rhythmic sound of hooves, the clink of bridles, and the occasional low chuckle from taehyung as he interacted with the other stable hands.

she couldn't quite bring herself to look at him again. every time she tried, her heart would race and her mind would cloud with confusion. why does this feel so complicated? she wondered. he's just a stable boy. he can't... he can't be anything more than that.

but the way he'd smiled at her earlier, those eyes full of something unspoken, something intimate... she couldn't shake it.

as the afternoon wore on, the sounds of the tea party around her became muffled, and jiah found herself staring at the stables again. she could see taehyung talking to another maid, a brief exchange of words followed by a soft laugh that made her heart stutter. why does he affect me so much?

"jiah?" yiseo's voice broke through her thoughts, and jiah blinked, realizing she had been staring off into the distance for longer than she intended.

"yes, your highness?" jiah quickly replied, straightening up.

"are you unwell?" yiseo asked, her tone laced with a touch of concern, though it was mostly masked by her usual indifference.

"i'm fine," jiah replied, giving her a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. i'm not fine, jiah thought. i can't stop thinking about him. about taehyung.

yiseo didn't seem convinced but didn't press the matter further. instead, she turned her attention to the small group of guests who had gathered around the table, eager to engage in polite conversation. the tea party resumed its elegant rhythm, but jiah couldn't focus. her mind kept drifting back to taehyung, to the sound of his voice, to the way his eyes had lingered on hers for a heartbeat longer than what felt normal.

then, without warning, minji appeared by her side again. "jiah, you're still staring," she teased, her voice light and playful.

jiah's cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away, her heart racing as she realized how obvious she must have been. "i'm not staring," she muttered, trying to sound convincing.

minji raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "you're hopeless, you know that?"

jiah opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, taehyung walked by, carrying a bucket of hay over his shoulder. his gaze flickered toward her for a split second, and jiah's breath caught in her throat. he looked at me again. it wasn't just a glance; it was intentional. purposeful.

minji noticed the way jiah stiffened, her eyes widening. "oh, i see," she said with a knowing grin. "he looked at you, didn't he?"

jiah's heart pounded as she tried to hide her flustered reaction. "no," she denied weakly, but it was too late. minji had already caught the change in her demeanor.

taehyung paused for a moment, noticing the way jiah's face had flushed, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and curiosity. he gave her a small, knowing smile before continuing his work. it was a smile that sent warmth flooding through her chest, and for the briefest moment, jiah wondered if maybe—just maybe—he had been aware of her gaze all along.

"he's definitely up to something," minji muttered under her breath, watching taehyung as he moved further into the stable. "that boy's not just going to let you walk away."

"minji—" jiah began, but she didn't know how to finish. she was caught, caught in something she didn't understand, something she wasn't sure she wanted to understand.

minji leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "you know, you've been caught in this little game of his before. but it seems like he's more serious now."

"what do you mean?" jiah asked, her voice trembling slightly.

minji gave her a sly smile. "he's been around for years, but now... it's different. something's changed. and honestly? i think you're in for a ride, jiah."

before jiah could respond, yiseo called her attention again, and the moment passed. but the weight of minji's words lingered in her chest, mixing with her confusion, her uncertainty, and the strange pull she felt toward taehyung.

authors note: our mc first interact (well kind of) with one of the members !! i know this story is a little slow but trust me it will get more interesting (or at least i hope u guys think that)

next →

taglist: join taglist!