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#@ yoongi why did u break up w/ him
citrustan · 1 month
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i see u are taking drabble requests!! could i very gently very nicely ask to plz have a yoongi x reader drabble? it can be angsty fluffy or smutty i just rlly miss yoongi, aaand thank u in advance!!
thanks! i will choose all three (barely-there smut bec i just need to get comfortable w it through practice)
love-daze (myg)
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: unrequited love?, friends to ?
warnings: methinks this can be considered infidelity but not really?? as for the characters, all's open to interpretation. :p unedited. this is raw raw ok.
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"Should I stop?" You whisper, unwrapping your arms from around him.
After a few beats, still zoned-out, Yoongi moans in disapproval, "No, keep going, this is fine."
He adjusts you on his lap and tilts his head back.
Still unsure, you go back to placing soft kisses all over his neck. Desperate to make Yoongi happy, you put a little more energy into it as you begin to gently grind on him.
Occasional whimpers and sighs float around the cold room. While that would seem to be enough to send you over the moon, it doesn't seem to help you this time.
"Yoongi..." You tiredly sigh.
You want to make Yoongi feel good, but at this point, you know he's too distracted.
Thinking of her.
And you find that unfair. He was the one who called you after all. Because he knew you'd always be around. Only for him.
You were never shy about your feelings for Yoongi, so when you couldn't get him to reciprocate romantically, you figured you'd give it a shot anyway and offered yourself for him to use whenever he wanted, for whatever he wanted.
Yoongi was intrigued.
He seemingly never did end up needing you though.
Until now.
Two hours ago, Yoongi came over to tell you how his girlfriend had turned down his marriage proposal a few days ago.
One hour ago, you tried to talk him into giving her more space.
Thirty minutes ago, he ended up calling her anyway, which in turn made her distance herself even more, telling him to not call her again.
And now, Yoongi has you naked, on his lap, trying to make himself forget about everything--- his girlfriend, her rejection, his humiliation, their sadness... just all of it.
Yoongi wanted to hurt her, too. His own pleasure is just a bonus. He knew that if she ever caught wind of you and him, it'd destroy her.
For some reason unknown to Yoongi (and you), Sera always had been insecure about you. Not that Yoongi gave her any reason to be, even offering to seize all contact with you.
You had cried for days when you accidentally heard about it through one of your mutuals. Yet, you understood, and continued to love him silently while distancing yourself from the couple.
Yes, you loved him but you would never try to steal his happiness away or break up a relationship.
Both Sera and Yoongi noticed the lack of your presence in their lives.
During that short period, she also observed how Yoongi seemed moodier and a little more disengaged in general.
For a while, Sera thought she might've just been a masochist or something because what other reason did she have to refuse Yoongi's offer?
She felt guilty because she didn't want to be the kind of woman who stopped her faithful boyfriend from having friends. She felt guilty because she had always known about your interest in him but had decided to pursue him anyway.
She felt guilty when she saw the look on your face when she was first introduced as Yoongi's girlfriend. She remembers how defeated and sad you were. One would expect jealousy, or anger, or even hatred, but you were always cordial with her.
She felt guilty when he asked her her hand in marriage because it came out of nowhere, and she knew it was Yoongi's attempt to salvage what was left of them.
It's probably karma, she thinks. Sera felt like an intruder in your lives even though she was the girlfriend. Even though Yoongi never really looked at you in a way she would be worried about, she just... felt something.
Which is why Sera isn't surprised to see Yoongi at your place now. She saw it on your Instagram story, but it was deleted almost immediately.
She doesn't know why Yoongi never let you in, and selfishly hadn't cared.
All she could do now was watch the man she loves be with someone else. As you had done.
Yoongi finally looks you in the eye, expectantly, brows somewhat raised.
Again, you ask, "Are you really, really sure you want this?"
Yoongi sees the loving look on your face and his breath hitches. You didn't deserve this.
The long pause answered all your questions.
You don't know why you're disappointed, you had offered yourself to him. It was your choice.
Sadly, giving him a tight-lipped smile, you sigh.
Before you could speak, he tilts your head towards his own, making your foreheads touch.
You gulp, afraid of what he might say.
With a shaky voice, he rubs his thumb on your cheek, "I'm sorry." - "For what?"
"_____, you deserve to be treated with respect. And, I'm sorry I failed to."
"Yoongi... I'm not offended... I told you, I'm okay with this." You pout, confused.
"Exactly. You shouldn't be. I won't take advantage of you like this." Yoongi is stern. Mostly speaking to himself.
But you don't care, "What if I want to be taken advantage of?"
"_____..." He's breathless.
"Yoonie... I can feel you. I want to be used. I want you so bad. I always have." You resume grinding on him, "You want me so bad. I know you care about me, Yoonie."
He firmly places his hands on your waist. You expect him to grab your cute butt, but instead, he holds you in place, "_____. Not like this. We're too... vulnerable. This is new. Let's not rush into anything."
At that, you instantly snap out of your love-daze.
What did he mean by 'this'? Let's not rush into 'anything'?
Your face was expressive, making him smile a little. You then lift yourself off of him.
Yoongi's forcing himself not to ogle your tits or the string of your sticky wetness detaching from his trousers as you moved to sit next to him.
The two of you have a lot to heal through.
Yoongi stood up from your couch to retrieve your crocheted throw which he then uses to swaddle you. You stare up at him with big eyes as he wrapped the material around you, making him playfully scoff.
Yoongi kneels in front of you, "I don't know how to thank you for being there for me, _____." He has a solemn face.
Meekly, you suggest, "We can just... talk if you'd like."
Placing a hand atop your own, he softly smiles, "I'd love that, _____."
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note: ok like ack-chu-ally idk what this turned into i just wanted to write like a 100 word thing about reader patiently waiting for yoongi to realise his feelings for her
But I Just Couldn't STop going on and im curious to see the response to this because I think I hate it kinda
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onlyswan · 11 months
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hi art 💓 so im rereading iw couples breakup drabble as one would do everytime shes on her period (its a canon event i think ppl would relate) and i have a few questions!!! 🥹🦋
1. what were the iw couple doing before they were in the car? like did they spend the day only to then break up? i rmb reading that jk was on tour, did he came back and break up w them right away? did he at least get them a present???!
2. what events led him to the decision? we know that prob he’s overwhelmed, the uncertainty of his career and the drabble from where he saw how draining it is on oc. but is there a bigger thing that happened?
3. u wrote that he “practiced” breaking up with oc. like is this true? how long has he thought of breaking up w oc before he actually did it? and how did oc not expect anything??? ☹️☹️
4. who is this “not married yet” girl that jk was teasing tae about? that sounds so saucYY a drabble for that would be super fun!! its gonna be super angsty too!!! hahahahhaha
5. we know jk regretted it right away after breaking up w oc, but why didn’t he backtrack and take it back? i know oc must’ve thought hes crazy but he didnt even call or text first? us reading is comforted by knowing that jk is also having the worst time, but oc doesn’t. yet theyre brave enough to be the one who reached out first, bc for all they know, jk could be with some other people right now, alr over them. did oc know that he’s not that kind of person or deep down they’re just being as brave as they can asking for what they wants which is him?
6. can we pleaseeeee have more drabbles where we can see how much the boys adore oc? or just their dynamic i would say. also do they have a special connection with each of the boys on different things? like maybe a drabble where jk & oc pack a homemade lunch to bring when visiting jin hobi or yoongi 🥹🥹
7. after the initial breakup, were things ever awkward? were there times when oc had to get used to him being in their life again or something less dramatic? did he ever see doubts or worry in oc’s eyes and is the even when he gave u reasons to drabble, the first time they had to address the traumatic event in their relationship? do they ever talk about it now? or laugh about it?
8. what happened with the “someone else i met in a bar turned out to be a jerk”??? when was this?! HAHAHHA jk must’ve lost his fucking mind after learning about this
9. kinda curious has there been a time when jk really needs quality time w oc and just brings her on tour? my dream is becoming a tour wifey so this would hit all the right spot:( esp w how easy he handled the situation from the last drabble of just inviting her to come w him. cutest ☹️
thank you so much for providing one of my comfort fics!! i hope ure having a great day🌷🥹
oh!! also!! i think we’ve never seen iw couple be on a date date, like fancy super dressed up date. is that just not them? can we see more of their date nights??
heyyy beloved i missed you 🥺🥺🥺 omg???
there are two types of onlyswan readers: one - those who reread the period drabbles then they’re on their period / two - those who reread the breakup drabble when they’re on their period 😭😭😭
ALRIGHT [cracks knuckles]
1. he broke up with oc as soon as he arrived back from tour 🥲 like literally. our guy was still jetlagged. he just wasn’t in his right mind at the time honestly. oc hopped in the car thinking they were going to spend time together someplace else but… yk what happened… ofc he got oc lotssss of presents though </3 including those gifts he talked about in the video oc watched before they called him :(
2. at the time they were already making plans about what will happen in the next few years of their career including the m word ehem ehem so. yeah he was overwhelmed and tired and he felt guilty of having to always leave oc + we know how oc is so empathetic so he also felt guilty that they have to carry his burdens as well ☹️
3. probably a month 🤨 but he didn’t actually want to break up with oc yk? it felt more like a thing that he had to do </3 so oc never suspected anything because the way he was acting towards them never changed. he wanted to hold on.
4. LMAOOOOO maybe in the future i’ll get around to that 🤞🏼 but tae was going through it for reaaaaal
5. he didn’t jump out the car to chase oc because him immediately changing his mind would’ve pissed oc off thinking that he was just playing a joke on their feelings and that would earn him a slap on the face 😭 he thought of that. and oc said they wanted to decide for theirself too :( so he wanted to respect that but he ended up becoming too much of a coward to reach out first after that bcs what if oc already decided that the breakup was for the best too 🥲 what if they hate him now 🥲 but he should’ve thought about it more from oc’s pov bcs they were suffering thinking that he alr gave up frfr </3
hmmm joon did talk to them about jk having a hard time, but during the breakup they did ask if he cheated so we know that they have this anxiety :( oc is just our bravest soldier who knows what they want and always tries their best to get it (him) 🫡
6. omg yessss more soon i’ve been thinking about one with jimin too specifically !! oc definitely bonds with each of the tannies about different things 🥺
7. yea, the even when he gave u reasons to drabble was the first time they brought it up again :( after they got back together jk really made efforts to reassure oc and that’s partly because he did see how they became kind of timid when he expresses affection. (i.e., jk saying “i didn’t love you any less and you know that.” and oc not saying anything and walking away instead) (this shit still kills me today sorry)
8. this was oc’s bf before jungkook aka guy with the dirty nails aka the ex who cursed them out like crazy when oc broke up with him (called them a slut) AND ALMOST made oc delete jungkook’s first ever texts to them bcs they lowkey started believing him. (he makes me mad sorry)
9. heeee wanted to but oc has only tried flying out for the ptd la and vegas shows bc the circumstances before then were different :( they were balancing school and multiple jobs. and we know how hard oc studied. they were so committed 😭 but now they live together and oc has a stable job and everything’s just more flexible overall so going with him overseas when he has work there is easy and not a problem at all 🥺
oh ofccc they’ve been on fancy dates esp that oc loves feeling pretty <3 but someone take me on a fancy date first so i can write about it 🤧
this is the first time someone called the giving up drabble a comfort fic lmaoooo this made my day i love you 😭 i hope i answered your questions and thank you soooo much for reading my works 🥺💕
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aurilvs · 2 years
Text
dream & their godly parents
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warnings: blades swords swearing gay shit mentions of kissing and food I think
note: love pjo and nct sooo yeah
마크<3
defo big 3
i think Poseidon is the best match
in chilling in the dream
how he was ok with the cold ass water
ma boi yes.
when he finds out ab being able to control water
(also surprised he can talk w horses)
“whoa dude- what just happened”
“u have powers” “wtf”
also … his spider-sense
very agile in combat
outside the arena……
clumsy somehow??
different story for another day
don't let him near bows and arrows
my guy how did u manage to break 4 bows in the span of 3 minutes
he is clearly as confused as you are
“dude I'm as lost as u”
our Canadian boy<3
런쥔<3
did I make this whole post just to vent ab child-of-athena!renjun
ummm… ofcourse
every sane person would do that right ????
right????
n e gays
very smart
book and street
gives the best advice
very calm…. is……. yeah no one believed that
shouts a lot but outside of libraries
if u disrespect libraries u are done w him
gets lost in thought a lot
lots of spacing out
probably planning his next murder but u didn't hear it from me
very skilled w bow and arrow
with swords….. not so much
very charming in an unexpected way
loves owls bc they remind him of his mom
has read harry potter
avid hater
(has secretly watched the half blood prince 13 times and has a ppt of 40 slides ab why its the best movie)
ace <3
does not care ab sex
제노<3
big 3
100%
he is the one with the most Zeus vibes
or ares maybe
but I don't see him being conflictive
but he is sharp? if that makes sense
(it does not ik)
but yeah
very scary looking
has a reputation for being good at close combat
biggest softie ever
can sometimes control electricity
gets called sparkly fingers by jaem
bc when he's nervous he fidgets w the electricity
gets along w jaemin bc jaemin was very anti-social
and he was a social butterfly with no real friends
they are inseparable now
rumor says they make out sometimes but u didn't hear it from me
bi wife energy but he's the bi wife
동혁<3
an Afrodite kid if I ever saw one
when he arrived to camp
he was the moment
the initial thought was that he was gonna be mean
bc that's how movie logic works
pretty= mean
don't blame me blame Hollywood
but he is an actual ray of sunshine
gets confused a lot w apollo kids
bc ma boi has pipes
gets along w everyone
but is not afraid to stand up for his friends
very extroverted and witty
has a good sense of humor and is street smart
met mark just as they were both discovering their powers
when he is close to a person he can see who they have feelings for
safe to say he saw Jeno and jaem
stuck w mark bc he could relate to him
ended up being soulmates
hyuck is a ray of sunshine
재민<3
hades…
yes
he is powerful and he knows that
likes that he can inspire fear
On the inside he loves romcoms and cries every time he watches the notebook
big softy
tsundere!!
was not close to a lot of people
no one except his brother and sister (irene and yoongi)
they adore each other so much
it's like they have their own language
but he had like o friends so when jeno approached him
he was surprised to say the least
likes being accompanied in silence
haTES small talk
would very much rather talk ab ones purpose on earth
or death too (pun kinda intended
talks ab deep shit w renjun
who he met through jeno
jeno says his coffee order comes from the depths of hell
(funny u say that )
jaem switches their drinks to see the disgusted expression on jeno’s face
(a simps behavior)
천러<3
apollo kid??
yeah
doesn't really fit in w his siblings
bc he has a darker aura
people mistake him for an ares kid
but he loves his siblings and his siblings love him
as an apollo kid he can sing v well
beautiful voice
but kinda shy to sing live
not scared to approach others
but prefers staying in his circle
really likes daggers
and is vv good w them
he trained mark for a bit
and then gave up bc he realized the canadian is helpless w any dagger or bow or anything except swords for a reason
arrived at camp w jisung
been stuck by the hip ever since
I see chenle where is jisung 🤨🤨 oh there he is hi ji
constantly giving each other gifts
fun fact his dagger was a jisung gift when they were finding their preferred weapon
lowkey like each other
they spend time near the auditorium
(word on the street says they make out sometimes but u didn't hear it from me)
i love chenle
지성<3
CHILD OF ARESSSSS
tell me u don't agree🤨
impossible
cute but agile
he is vv shy tho
when he battles completely transforms
extremely talented w swords
when he first picked up one
he felt complete??
idk that's what he told chenle
his sword is made of celestial bronze
takes care of it more than his life
his sword was a gift from his dad
but his dad sent it by chenle
chenle jokes that he is the best gift-giver ever
training and fighting is very therapeutic for him
98% of the time is in the arena when he is not with chenle
trains with the straw dummies when he has a lot on his mind
“training w straw dummies is very mundane so it helps me think”
he is on the younger side out of all the campers
but has more experience than most of them
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hansolmates · 3 years
Text
common law marriage | 07
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banner made by the iconic @dnrequests​ / @dee-ehn​
summary; you and jungkook do the thing you’ve been talking about since haru’s first birthday pairing; dilf!jk x best friend!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, angst, longing, pining, mc is a homebody, unrequited love (or is it?), potential idiots 2 lovers, best friends 2 lovers, mentions of sex, alcohol use, heaving flirting, profanity, a singular daddy joke (or 2) w/c; 2.3k a/n; hello hello! welcome to part 2 of day by day, which is definitely a very different turn from the first, must less angsty hehe. this is a 2 year time skip, so the dynamics of all the relationships have changed a lot, so if the development feels too fast this is why! friendly reminder that if you’re in the taglist, please make sure u have your tags on. enjoy!  [day by day masterpost]
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"You're doing everything without a label. This is literally a common law marriage." 
"Not true,” you hiss under your breath, pressing the phone smack against your cheek, “we don’t live together, and we’re not paying each other’s bills, and more importantly, we’re not in love.” 
“Right,” Yoongi whispers dramatically on the line, unconvinced. 
“I saw Jungkook drop off her lunch at work,” you hear Hoseok mutter on the other line, “that’s domestic as hell.” 
“Oh yeah, and did you see her Instagram story?” you roll your eyes, resting your head in your hands as you hear them speak as if they didn’t call you five minutes ago, “she literally took Haru to a ‘Mommy and Daughter Paint n’Sip’.” 
“There was a coupon!” you blurt, letting yourself out of the bathroom stall so you can wash your hands. 
“Uh huh,” Yoongi hums, and you can imagine him playing with his nails, staring blankly into the void, “and pray tell, what are you doing this week for Haru’s birthday?” 
Gritting your teeth, you bark, “I’m at Tokyo Disney.” 
“They’re totally playing house,” Hoseok cries, doubling over in laughter. “Who the fuck goes with their best friend and their family to Disney? Thirteen year old boys, and pretty single women  who are out for some Disney Daddy—” 
Promptly hanging up, you decide to splash your face to wake you up from the long ride. The cool, double-filtered water clears your eyes and washes the oil from your hectic morning. After drying with a spare washcloth in your backpack, you quickly take out your tinted lip balm, trying to add some life to your complexion. 
Your shoulders relax considerably as you get into the motions, spreading the soft pink balm over your lips. Smacking it a few times and nodding appreciatively at the strawberry scent, you take a deep breath and try to erase Yoongi and Hoseok’s call from your mind. 
It isn’t weird to go to Disney with the single father you’re in love with and his daughter, right? 
Three little knocks break you from your reverie, and you plaster a smile and open the bathroom door of your hotel room. 
“Auntie, are you okay?” 
Being called Auntie isn’t as cute as being called Mommy, but it’s for the best. As Haru got older, she recognized that you never slept over or kissed Jungkook like the way she saw other parents do whenever she went out. Jungkook told you it was a rough discussion, but it’s best to draw the line when she can comprehend, otherwise it would get too complicated. 
Your smile soon turns sappy and melty at the sight of Haru in her little outfit. She’s Minnie Mouse-themed today, due to her love of the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Since it’s a chilly day, she’s wearing a light pink jacket with white polka dots, paired with a tulle skirt with pink tights underneath. The finishing touch is two matching Mickey and Minnie hair bows, tying off her nubby pigtails. 
“Sorry bub, were you waiting long? You got ready way faster than me, you’re so ready to meet Mickey and Minnie!” 
“And Elsa,” Haru adds pointedly. 
“And Elsa,” you smile, leading her over to sit on her bed. Easily grabbing her by the armpits you throw her on the pile of pillows on your unmade bed. She laughs, her bubbly laughter filling your hotel room as she burrows herself between the cream sheets. “Where’s daddy?” 
“Showering in gramma n’ grandpa’s room,” she supplies helpfully. Her speaking has gotten more concrete since turning three, which is mighty helpful when you need to know what she wants, “but daddy said you had fruit snacks in your backpack, so that’s why he let me in.” 
“Ah,” you nod, “you can go into the front pocket, bubby. Only one packet. You can watch television until daddy’s ready, okay? What do you wanna watch?” 
“Frozen!” 
“There’s this really cute movie called The Parent Trap—” 
“Frozen!” 
“You really don’t want to try something new—?” 
“Frozen 2?”  
Shaking your head, you queue up the movie on Disney+. Even Haru can’t escape the Frozen Fever. Jungkook and you have been trying to introduce her to new kinds of films, and while she’s enticed by many princesses and superheroes, nothing beats the Ice Queen. 
While Haru chews on her snacks and enjoys her movie, you make sure your backpack is filled with all the essentials. The baby wipes, hand sanitizer, water bottles, and pass cards are all in there. Most importantly, the autograph book you bought from the gift shop is there, paired with a fluffy purple pen. Haru can’t read yet, but you thought it would be nice to have the book started while she’s still young. Checking the time on your phone, you hope that you can hit the park early enough so the lines aren’t too long. 
“Good morning, what are my two favorite girls up to?” 
Jungkook steps into the hotel room, freshly showered and ready to go. Jungkook is subtly matching with his daughter in a simple grey sweater with a black Mickey fill-in and black jeans. He’s also come with libations, a pastel blue paper bag with sweet smelling pastries inside. He has two cups in his hand, liquid caffeine made just the way you like it. 
“Daddy, are we leaving?” Haru asks, lips red and sticky from the cherry flavored gummies. 
“In a second, baby. Auntie and I are just going to have our breakfast and then we’ll have fun,” Jungkook says, pulling up the coffee table to set up your little breakfast bar. Taking a plastic knife and setting up the paper bag like a plate, he splits a chocolate croissant between the two of you. 
“Where’s your parents?” you ask casually, popping a buttery piece of croissant in your mouth, “mhm, so flaky.” 
“Spa day,” Jungkook answers shortly, “besides, they wouldn’t want to keep up with us. Haru wants to get as many pictures as she can today with the characters.”  
Jungkook has been planning this trip for months. Your heart softens at the way he regards Haru’s wants and needs for this birthday vacation. After having a banger first birthday party (thanks to you, of course) the second birthday party was far more muted due to both Jungkook and Hana getting a terrible stomach flu. You and his parents stopped by with a small cake and a movie. 
That’s why Jungkook wants to go all out this year. He figured it would be more memorable to have a more intimate celebration, a big vacation with the closest of family members. 
“Isn’t it crazy?” Jungkook says quietly, and so soft that you almost thought he was speaking to himself, “two years ago we talked about going to Disney, and now we’re here. She’s growing up so fast. Life goes by so fast.” 
“So let’s enjoy it while we can,” you squeeze his shoulder, finishing up your food and getting ready to depart. 
Jungkook swipes Haru’s face with a fresh washcloth, and you get on her Minnie-bowed mary jane shoes. Haru can’t wait, jumping up and down on the elevator to pretend she’s floating in space. 
Before you can board the rail train, a hotel employee comes over with a fancy camera. “Family picture?” she asks sweetly. 
You hold up a hand and force a small, polite smile. “Ah, now’s not a good time—” 
“Would you also be able to take a picture with my phone?” Jungkook easily hands the photographer his black iPhone, and throws an arm around you. “C’mon, this will look great in the baby album.” 
Despite all your time with Jungkook, you still feel flushed whenever you’re put in a more than intimate situation. It’s more than physical, but a non-tangible block you always reach whenever people refer to you as a family. You can’t deny that it’s true, you’re an unconventional family. However, you can only imagine what it looks like in other people’s eyes, a picture-perfect young couple having the time of their lives with their beautiful daughter. 
“Pick me up, daddy! Pick me up!” 
Haru immediately climbs up Jungkook’s body, fitting herself between you two. You’re forced to hold up your hand to share half of her weight, as she doesn’t budge herself. Nudging her little cheeks, they press against each of yours like two warm marshmallows. 
“Do the thing Uncle Seokjin taught you,” Jungkook encourages lightly.
You smile when Haru’s hands make a mini heart, dead center between the three of you. Softening, you relax against the Jeon family.  
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Jungkook took his turn to use the bathroom after a couple hours of fun, and you told him to meet you and Haru at the carousel. 
You’re more than okay with standing around while Haru pretends she’s riding a dolphin. You sneakily take some candid pictures and take large gulps of water while Haru blows raspberries, pretending she’s underwater. It’s so cute, seeing how the simple things keep Haru so enthralled. When Jungkook didn’t return for the first ride, you immediately got back in line for a second ride.
Circle after circle, you finally notice Jungkook emerging from the nearby bathroom. The urge to wave and call out to Jungkook is on the tip of your tongue, and you almost signal to Haru if not for what Jungkook was doing. 
Or not doing, you’re unsure. 
It took a total of thirty seconds (or three slow, carousel rotations) for Jungkook to go to the neighboring popcorn stand and buy a bucket. He gets the one you’ve been looking at on Instagram, the Tangled one that lights up like the lanterns in the film. 
He only gets to walk two seconds in the direction of the carousel when he’s stopped by the next person in line. It’s a pretty woman in a lavender and pink sundress, blonde hair done in a flowered braid, presumably Disneybounding to be Rapunzel. 
Rotation one, it seems that the woman wants to address that she and Jungkook got matching popcorn buckets. She’s blushing, fair skin pulling pink as she points to his bucket. 
Rotation two, Jungkook is showing something on his hand, holding it up to the air and into the sun. The woman tilts her head, unsure. What kind of conversation is this? 
Rotation three, the woman is squeezing Jungkook’s bicep, attempting to flirt him into a stupor. Classic. 
You smoothly unbuckle Haru from her seatbelt, pulling her down from the light blue dolphin and walking her towards the exit. Instead of going straight to Jungkook however, you and Haru walk up towards one of the available maps, planning your next ride. 
Jungkook and you have gone on dates with other people. According to Jungkook’s mom, it’s sparingly and apparently none of the dates have gone as far as to reach an introduction to Haru. You don’t understand why, 
As for you, you’re terribly hung up on Jungkook and Haru. You don’t know if anyone would understand the desire for you to stay by Haru’s side despite not being an official parent. The small, selfish part of you is also content with being single forever, as long as you have  Jungkook’s friendship by your side. 
While Haru occupies herself with the magical glitter touchscreen of the park map, you turn your head to find Jungkook stepping away from the girl and gesture wildly to you. 
“See?” you hear Jungkook cry exasperatedly, “I told you I have a wife and daughter!”  
A wife and daughter? You look down at Haru, blissfully unaware of her father’s conundrum. Jungkook practically engulfs you, putting his arm around you and pulling you flush against his waist. You look over his body to see the woman who tried so hard to seduce Jungkook, shoulders slumped in defeat. If only she knew. 
“Jungkook,” you deadpan, “you’re a grown-ass man and you’re running away from a pretty woman?”
“Only because she didn’t take the hint,” Jungkook scoffs, practically stuffing his hand into Haru’s open popcorn bucket. It’s much to Haru’s displeasure, and you stifle your giggle as she cries out in horror when he stuffs a handful in his mouth. “Ugh, ‘sides. She wasn’t that pretty, you’re prettier.”  
“I feel a little bad for her,” you pout slightly, trying to tamp down the mirth you feel dancing in your heart. 
“Oh c’mon, the only girls I’m prioritizing this week are you and Haru,” he shakes his head, “and my mom, if she ever decides to leave the spa.” 
“Mm, is that so?” boldly, you sneak a hand up where Jungkook’s arm falls over your shoulder. Your fingers tingle and burn as you lace yours with Jungkook’s, continuing his little ruse flawlessly. “Then go ahead and treat us to some ice cream too, daddy.” You smirk teasingly, pointing your nose up in the air. 
Jungkook narrows his eyes, and his mouth curls into a tricky little grin that has you sweating a bit. You’re tiptoeing, you know. Three years down the line and you’ve gotten a lot bolder with your flirtation attempts. After all, you have nothing to lose. It’s either he subtly ignores you, or? 
“Careful with what you say, honey,” Jungkook’s voice deepens, or maybe it’s the illusion that it’s deepened because of how close he is to your ear, “our daughter could be listening.” 
Your breath hitches when you feel Jungkook’s fingers curl tighter around yours, a rough grip yet soft touch. Biting your lip, you keep your eyes on Jungkook, unable to look away. Is the pretty woman still staring at you, or is he enjoying playing Husband and Wife with you? If Haru was more inquisitive, you’d imagine the both of you would be in for an earful. 
“Gimmie my popcorn!” Haru thankfully squeals, jumping in between you in favor of getting her lantern carrier that’s swinging around Jungkook’s side.
878 notes · View notes
jeonfiles · 3 years
Text
once more to see you | kth 01
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pairing: taehyung x reader ft. seokjin
genre: angst, fluff, unrequited love
synopsis: taehyung is the complete opposite of you, and you're so in love with him. he's not interested in you at all, but he's willing to pretend so he won't be known for breaking the sweetest girl in school's heart. he knows you'll end up hurt either way.
warnings: taehyung is an idiot, a lot of pining, y/n is annoyingly dependent on validation, y/n does a lot of silent prayers, y/n is a track star, childhood bsf seokjin (cute), mentions of deceased family member
music for this chap: she had the world , carry me out
a/n: taehyung will disappoint u in the beginning but hes cute i promise
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"I get why you like him Y/N," Sohee swallowed the rest of her sandwich before finishing her sentence, "He's so hot. People say he's interested in you too, y'know?"
Sohee visibly tried to get food out from the back of her mouth using her tongue, and it made you chuckle at the sight. "I don't think he does." You sighed, resting your chin in your palm.
You were both situated at the table in the inner corner of the cafeteria, with a full view of who walks in the door, and sometimes you swore you could see Sohee drool when attractive guys walked in that exact door.
"Hello, of course, he does! Even his friend Jimin told Kang Seulgi from Class 1, who told Go Euntaek in class 3, who eventually told his girlfriend Baek Ho-rang who ran to me to tell me the great news." Sohee gasped for air after rambling, and you rolled your eyes,
"Stories change when that many links contribute." You scoffed, sitting back in your chair and reaching for your juice box on the table, taking a huge slurp, which you knew would annoy Sohee.
"You don't believe me? Guess we gotta ask a link closer to the source then." Sohee stood up from her chair, and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Park Jimin, get your ass over here will ya?" She nearly shouted across the cafeteria, and now all looks were pointed at you two, and you felt the urge to just slip down the cracks of the floor tiles and hide there forever grow stronger for each nanosecond.
You sunk further down on your tacky, orange chair, but you could still see Jimin's black locks sway a little over the crowd as he walked over to the table you were sitting at.
"What's up sugar?" Jimin smirked at Sohee, and Sohee didn't even budge, and you had no idea how she did it. He was stupidly attractive and could make any girl drop her pants with a comment like that.
"Jimin my dearest, a little birdie told me that Taehyung likes my sweet Y/N, could you confirm?" She batted her long lashes and smiled prettily at Jimin.
He looked to the left, sucked his teeth, and said, "I can't, I'm sorry." You realized you had grown a little too hopeful, and your heart sunk quite a bit when he spoke.
"Does he think I'm pretty at least?" You spoke up, eyes shining when you looked up towards the standing Jimin, the harsh lights in the cafeteria reflecting in them.
"He hasn't mentioned you much, to be quite honest." He shrugged, walking back to his table, where Taehyung and the rest of his friends sat.
Your heart thumped when he met your eyes, and you looked away in panic. The rest of lunch was just Sohee apologizing and you avoiding eye contact with any of the students at the nearby tables.
Jimin mentioned you and Sohee's name several times, he was a loud speaker, and you were so scared of what he was saying you could probably die right then and there.
Saved by the bell, you picked up your stuff and got ready to start running to your classroom, praying you wouldn't meet any of Taehyung's friends, and especially not Taehyung as you ran Usain Bolt style.
You looked down while running, not thinking twice about leaving your best friend behind, you suddenly fell to the ground with a thud. This was surely not one of your glory days.
When you looked up, you wanted to cry. It was none other than Kim Taehyung, and he didn't look pleased. You gathered your things and muttered "Sorry." under your breath probably about 10 times, and he just watched, disappointingly.
"You're a klutz. Why were you running?" He spoke, and your knees turned into jelly when you tried to stand up, you nearly fell and dropped all your stuff again, but he caught you by the arm, straightening you up like it was nothing.
"Uh... Uhm... Err..." you mumbled, and he rolled his eyes, and not in a joking manner. "Fuck that, why are you going around telling people I like you?"
Your breath hitched, and he stared at you coldly. "I didn't! Gosh, my friend Sohee told me someone had told her that you liked me, and- uh... We asked Jimin, and-" He put his hand over your mouth, making you shut up.
"I don't want you two to go around making up baseless rumors about me, it's incredibly annoying for me to go around correcting people who assume shit just because your little friend speaks louder than a bunch of hyenas at a tea party." Taehyung nearly spat, and you took a step back.
You noticed that people were listening in, their stares burning holes in your back. He was livid, and you didn't understand why, you just smiled, praying to god that this would end soon.
"I just thought you liked me-" You began, and he interrupted you, "You thought I was gonna like someone like you? Get over yourself and enter the real world."
The hallway went silent, your lips trembled as hot tears raced down your face, and like the track star you were, you fled the scene and passed the finish line into the bathrooms.
You stayed till the school day ended, not knowing what was unraveling outside the four walls of the stall.
Sohee 💜: 01:12 pm
Y/N, where are you? i heard what happened :( i hate taehyung im gonna chop his sausage off
Sohee 💜: 01:38 pm
taehyung is fighting w doyoung because doyoung decided to defend you this is hilarious
but fr where are you
Sohee 💜: 01:57 pm
doyoung gave taehyung a black eye damn
doyo is on the verge of tears when taehyung said you liked him and not doyo
taehyung cant not have feelings for you like there must be smth deeper going on
Sohee 💜: 03:39 pm
class just ended i'll wait out back
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Sohee always knew when to leave you alone, so she did, partially. You usually shut off your phone when you're upset, but she still sends you texts to update you whenever you turn it back on.
This time, it was quite dramatic, and you rushed out of the icky stall and ran (again) to reach Sohee to get the full story, and as you expected, it was interesting.
"Basically, Doyoung punched Taehyung and Taehyung was a little too OP, so he failed to initiate a fight, so it just turned into Taehyung being an ass to Doyoung for defending you." She shrugged, adjusting the straps of her leather backpack as you walked home.
"Taehyung's rep is so tainted right now, I don't know how he's gonna fix this my dear Y/N, so I guess he got his karma. He's an idiot and I'm glad other people are starting to see."
You nodded yes, pushing out a fake chuckle, while silently you prayed that everything would soon be back to normal and that Taehyung would forgive you for the mess you caused.
Being in love with Taehyung for a year had taken a toll on you, and your best friend since freshman year had noticed too. You were different.
You used to be so independent and optimistic, but now you would strive for validation, and you had turned into one of the most insecure people Sohee had ever met.
Sohee tried to pull you away from him, but to her demise, it only got worse when you tried to meet other guys. She figured that the only way for you to disconnect from him was if you had your go with him, or if he treated you like a complete idiot.
You waved goodbye to Sohee as you entered your house, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself down on the couch. You wanted to scream, but you saw your brother's and another guy's shoes in your hallway, so you kept it inside.
After having watched an episode of Seinfeld, you could hear the floorboards creak, and your gaze found its way to the hallway, where your brother, Yoongi stood, peeking out from his door.
"Ah, Y/N, you're the one who's home?" He smiled brightly, eyes turning into small crescents, which made you awe at the sight.
"Yuppers." You said and sat back again, pressing play to start the next episode. "Who's your guest?" And as you uttered your last word, another head peeked out from the door, and you couldn't help but feel the happiness brew inside you.
It was Kim Seokjin in all his glory, and this time, he looked even hotter. It had been about two years since you last saw him because he moved to Germany to study medicine.
Seokjin had been your neighbor since you were born, and you pretty much grew up with two older brothers who always took care of you.
No one dared to mess with you, because Seokjin and Yoongi always got to them first. That way, you grew up without a care in the world, protected from all evil.
You had no idea when you fell in love with him. It was somewhere during puberty, where your interest in Brad Pitt and Kim Soohyun from Dream High had grown stronger.
You remember Seokjin was scouted for modeling, acting, and even idol groups all through your childhood. He did a few ads, photoshoots, a popular teenage drama called Double Trouble, and even managed to get his own Wikipedia page.
There was no doubt that Seokjin was an attractive man, and in the two years he had been gone, his face fat was completely gone, and he had defined cheekbones, a slimmer and tighter figure, and you thought he couldn't be any more perfect.
"None other than God himself," Seokjin said smugly, opening his arms to greet you with a hug, and you threw your blanket you were covered into the side as you bolted into Seokjin's arms, legs wrapped around his waist.
He slowly put you down so your feet touched the parquet, and you felt a kind of euphoria as he smiled at you again, the same smile he had flashed you as long as you could remember.
Everything about Seokjin had matured and changed, but his smile remained the same. "What are you doing back?" You sniffled, holding back the happy tears that were forming in your eyes.
"Hey, don't get me wrong, I love Germany, but it's a little bland. I miss ahjumnas complimenting me on the subway and the bomb ass food here in SK." Seokjin grinned as he wiped a tear that fell down your face.
Yoongi was leaning against the door frame, smiling at the grand reunion. You knew he liked seeing you two together, and you had a small suspicion about him shipping you guys.
"Please don't ever leave again." You gripped onto his shirt, digging your face down in his chest, and he said, "I swear to god if you're wearing makeup right now-"
You laughed as you pushed him away, placing your hands below your chin and batting your eyelashes dramatically, "I'm all-natural."
"Naturally pretty." Seokjin leaned forward and whispered in your ear, and your heart did a little somersault.
Seokjin's always been a charmer.
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You woke up in your room, pink sheets draped over your half-naked body as tons of messages poured in on your phone, vibrating so much it nearly fell off the edge of your nightstand.
You grab it while rubbing your eyes, and you're shocked to see the messages that had exploded on your lock screen.
Unknown: 08:39 am
Hey, it's Kim Taehyung.
Look, I'm sorry for the shit I said to you and I would love to make it up to you in some kind of way.
Maybe I could take you out?
I get it if you don't want to, but I heard you were interested in me so...
What kinda food do you like? Activities, hobbies?
I really wanna make this right :)
You: 08:43 am
oh hey! I'd love to, you kinda owe me one. if it's your treat, I suppose we could get some sushi and boba...
btw I don't like u like that
Contact made, saved as "taehyung <3" at 08:44 am
taehyung <3: 08:47 am
Okay. Meet me at Nori Table at 6 pm. Don't make me wait.
Your heart was palpitating, and when you pressed your phone up to your chest, you could feel your body heat up from your scalp to your toes.
Maybe Kim Taehyung had no interest in you right now, but he sure would after tonight. You were gonna make him love you, soon enough,
Running to the shower a few hours of Seinfeld later, you scrubbed with all your might with your newest strawberry scrub, did your makeup, curled your hair, and sat down on the couch, outfit draped over the armrest of the chair.
It was an hour till you were leaving, so for the time being you sat with hair rollers in your hair, dressed in pink sweats. Seokjin and Yoongi had been awake all night, you had heard them laugh and play Mario Cart all night, it reminded you of old times.
Old times where you went to bed crying because Yoongi and Seokjin's bedtime was later than yours at sleepovers. Thinking back, your parents made a pretty rational decision, but you resented them for it.
When Seokjin left for school in Germany, during your Sophomore year you cried again. You thought it was so unfair that you had to be two years younger, why couldn't you come with him?
You were painfully in love with him, and you had been probably since you were. A few months after he moved, your feelings faded. You were love-free, only to fall stupidly in love again with Taehyung just a year later.
You were forced to snap out of your train of thought because you heard the floorboards creak again. When you looked over at the dark hallway, you saw a tired, yet familiar face smile at you.
Seokjin looked quite disoriented, hair ruffled and eyes puffy, yet he looked like a Greek god. Sculpted to perfection, he smiled at you like he did yesterday and all the times before.
"Morning." He grunted out, his morning voice prominent. You chuckled when you looked at the time, feeling kind of bad for Seokjin who had slept away the majority of his day, which you knew he didn't like.
"It's 5 pm, cutie. Mom said you guys could order takeout, cause she's working late." You stood up, and Seokjin gave you a good look up and down, and then diverted his gaze to the lavender ruffle skirt and white long-sleeve blouse you had neatly hung over the armchair.
"What's the occasion?" He nodded over at the clothes and then your hair rollers and full-face makeup-covered face. He threw a few walnuts from the little bowl on the coffee table into his mouth.
"It's none of your business, but I have a date tonight," you said smugly, and a walnut flew out of Seokjin's mouth in shock.
"A date? Like a real one?" He frantically asked, and you nodded as you walked away with your outfit in hand.
You came back out minutes later, and Seokjin had to hold his mouth shut so it wouldn't drop to the floor. You had matured so well, a white blouse adorning your waist, and the lavender skirt hugged your curves nicely.
You had decorated your neck and ears with golden jewelry, and you had a pair of Air forces dangling from your left hand. You were beautiful, hair let free from the hair rollers, curls swaying as you did a twirl.
"It's alright, I guess." He pretended not to care, and your proud grin morphed into a frown pretty quickly, and he noticed.
He stood up and walked towards you, standing very close. His tall figure was hovering over you. Seokjin leaned forward towards your ear, not whispering this time,
"You're gorgeous." He pushed your curls behind your shoulder, adjusting your golden necklace as he returned to Yoongi's bedroom.
You were screwed.
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The time on your phone showed 6:06 pm. You recall him saying ‘don’t be late’. What a hypocrite. It had started to pour down, so you were squeezed up against the brick wall of the restaurant so the ledge above you would shield you from the rain.
You were shaking from the cold, legs exposed because of your skirt. Sighing deeply, you reached down into your purse to text Taehyung, but when you looked up, you saw him running over to you.
He was holding a bouquet of pink delphinium and peonies. You’d always been interested in flowers, and this small gesture made you all fuzzy inside.
“I apologize for my late arrival m’lady. The flower shop was about to close down for the day, and I had to beg the cashier to let me in, promising to buy a huge bouquet if she did.” He smiled as he stood in front of you.
“No worries sir, I haven’t been waiting for long.” You chuckled, as you accepted the bouquet. His eyes scanned every inch of your body, and he said, “You’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”
This was a side of Taehyung you had barely seen before, caring and warm. This was also the side of him that initially made you fall for him.
The memories of him reading stories for children at the hospital was heartwarming. Whenever you went to visit your brother, who has now passed, you would see him read stories for all the unlucky kids.
Your brother, who was only 7 years old talked about Taehyung like a superhero, and it seemed as if Taehyung’s stories were the highlight of his days at the hospital.
Daejung wasn’t a kid you would pity. In his last months in the hospital he never once cried. You believed that Taehyung was a big part of the reason.
That’s why you fell in love with him. He hadn’t been a superhero in the form of saving lives, but he definitely made a whole lot of sick kids happier.
How could you ever repay him?
Taehyung rested a hand on your shoulder and lead you inside the door, and there stood a beautiful tall woman, black hair to her waist, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips.
She was beautiful. You looked up to see Taehyung’s reaction, and he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at you. His eyes met yours, and you could’ve sword the whole world stopped.
“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and it kicked you right back into reality. It was the pretty woman speaking, an even prettier voice to match her.
“Do you have a reservation?” She questioned, smiling so genuinely from ear to ear. “Yes. It’s on Kim.” Taehyung spoke so confidently.
“Ah, for two. I’ll be your server tonight.” She waved for you to follow her, and before she turned around, you saw her name tag.
Bae Eunmi. A pretty name for a pretty person. Of course, she had to be pretty. Your confidence sunk even lower, and your insecurities grew.
“I’m not interested in her, by the way. I’ve talked to her before. She’s all beauty and no brains. Not for me.” Taehyung whispered into your ear, possibly to reassure you.
You sat down at the table and ordered a huge plate of different types of sushi, maki, nigiri, uramaki, and even sashimi.
This restaurant was fancy, nearly too fancy for your liking. It was huge and flashy, and it made you doubt your outfit choice completely.
The restaurant fell silent since there weren’t many guests here this early. The silence wasn’t awkward between you guys. It was just, too silent, and you decided to break it.
“Do you still write stories?” Taehyung’s face froze. How did you know about the stories he wrote? Had you been stalking him? Was this when everyone would find out how weak he truly is?
“How did you find out... About them?” He asked hesitantly, fidgeting with a small woven basket with bread placed on your table.
“When sun and moon met, moon felt bad. When the moon was alone at night, he cried, because he wanted to shine just like the sun.” You quote his story word by word, it was your favorite paragraph.
He looked at you with a confused look and his eyes told you that he wondered why you knew the story so well.
Before he could speak up, you said, “My brother's name was Daejung. He looked up to you and constantly told me about how he wanted to be like you when he grew up.” You placed your hands on top of his over the table.
Taehyung was speechless. He sat there, body completely frozen as he processed what you just said. The little boy he had mourned for many months was the same flesh and blood as you.
“Daejung told me how he wanted me to marry you because he thought no one else deserved me.” Letting go of his hands, he continued sitting completely still.
First, he felt disappointed in himself. Disappointed of the way he had treated you, how sad Daejung would be if he knew.
Second, he could see him in your traits. Your button nose matched his completely, and your eyes sparkled just the way his eyes did.
Third, he realized he had to take care of you. Fall in love with you, for Daejung. Taehyung had promised the little boy to take care of his friends and family when he has at his worst.
His expression completely changed. It softened, and his eyes looked at you like you were godsent. He believed you were too. It was fate.
join the “once more to see you” taglist
a/n: u guys know the angst isn't over lol u guys r never gonna see the light at the end of the tunnel ! this chapter was originally a bit longer but i have to test the waters and seeing how u guys like it !! pls reblog <3
470 notes · View notes
un2-verse · 3 years
Text
BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)
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Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?
Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader
genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol
Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!
wordcount: 2.2k
taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine
a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!
series masterlist
part one part two
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The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.
Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.
It was the only face behind the killings.
But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.
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“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”
“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”
You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.
You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.
“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”
You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.
“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”
“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.
A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”
Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.
You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.
“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”
Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.
You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.
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It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.
For the first time in forever, you looked alive.
Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.
“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”
Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.
You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”
Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”
The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.
You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.
Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.
He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.
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Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.
This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.
It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.
The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.
After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.
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Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.
They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.
A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.
A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.
Billy.
Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”
A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”
With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”
The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.
“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.
“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.
“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.
“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”
The subject's face dropped.
“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”
“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”
The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.
“What is this? What fucking game?”
“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”
“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”
A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”
“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”
He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.
A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”
Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”
Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.
Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.
He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.
That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?
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[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]
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jiminrings · 2 years
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Now that we’re on the topic of hb Jimin, I have a question for y!! Right after oc moved out of jimin’s apartment and they officially broke up, what was his and eunji’s relationship like? Was he like still fully in denial that he made a mistake and trying to proceed with a full on relationship with eunji?
Or did the act of oc leaving wake something up in his mind and he immediately realized that he regretted everything? I think it was in the first intermission when we see his thoughts i got the feeling that he was still kinda trying to justify the cheating so he doesn’t feel guilty, but he had been away at his parents house for a few (?) weeks. Was he in contact with eunji at the time or did he kinda just ghost her?
And last but not least if he did advance his relationship with Eunji (i keep trying to write her name and it keeps autocorrecting to Rubio I s2g I’m gonna leave it next time it happens omf) in the time after his break up with oc, did they ever hook up/take it farther than what they were doing before Jimin broke up with oc?
SORRY this is long, love u and thank you for always replying to us ♥️
Oh wait I thought of another thing I’ve been wondering about omg sorry!! Why did eunji seem so fixated on the oc?? Like it seemed like she had creeped her social media and was trying to find out more about her!! What was the reason 😩 she’s so annoying I can’t!!!
right after hbjm n oc broke up, jimin’s association with eunji became basically nonexistent!!!!
didn’t try to pursue a rs with eunji at all!!! he wasn’t in denial of his mistakes buuuuut he was a lil defensive w it especially with his family n yoongi :((
definitely woke up something in him n immediately regretted every single thing he’s ever done 😁😁 cut off all contact with eunji so he technically ghosted (while staying w his family) n clarified that everything’s over in the 2nd intermission (whose time and setting happened before part 2) !!!
RUBIOOOO omg that will b eunji’s new nickname
the answer is same as second bullet point!!! hb jm would probably never move on from oc i think
eunji’s veryyyy fixated on oc bc she’s narcissistic and generally just a very obsessed, please-praise-me, i-have-no-character-development character!!! in part 3 i gave her no character development at all bc i planned from the start that she’d be a flat character
no worries i love long asks <3 thank yewww love u thank u for being here <3
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bubmyg · 3 years
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there was no particular reason i wrote all this down other than reading the translations to my universe made me cry last week because i’m just Like this. this is a mini compilation of yoongi lyrics that i hold gently in my palm and close to my heart in a he’s my artist for life kind of way. these aren’t all my favorite yoongi lyrics, i certainly have more but not ones that fit this general vibe. 
this is like extremely disorganized, i kind of just wrote it like a journal (and i’ll probably copy it to my bullet journal at some point actually). interpretations are my own, music is cool in that we can all read and hear the same thing and get different things out of it (which is why yoongi has often said he doesn’t attach specific meaning to things, giving it up to the listener instead)
so yeah. here’s me being fond of yoongi in 4k for no reason other than. idk. i wanted to. all translations are from doyoubangtan and doolsetbangtan. 
song request - lee sora ft suga
“I’ll be with you, for your birth and your end; That you’d remember that I’m with you, wherever you are; I’ll be a comfort for your life at any time, and so; please, that you’d lean on me and take a rest, every once in awhile.”
to me, this perfectly encapsulates what creating music is for yoongi in a two-fold kind of way. not only does he want his music to be a source of comfort for those who listen to it (just as the art of music is for himself), he’s also consistent in his assurance that taking a rest is okay. not being okay is okay. simply existing for the time being is okay. it’s a gentle empathy that comes from the experienced heart of someone who’s not going to tell you that it is okay, but will tell you that it won’t always be like this. friendly little moon trying to get you to smile with him on sleepless nights.
so far away - agust d ft suran
dream, will eventually be in full bloom at the end of hardships
this was on my undergrad graduation cap. it’s one of my favorite lyrics of all time. if so far away is my heart song, this is my heart lyric. this is a common motif in yoongi’s lyrics; dormancy is only temporary, you will bloom at the end of the cold winter.
dream, hope it to be there with you at your creation and at the end of your life
creation to end is another common motif n his lyrics. in this specific context, i imagine it to most closely be analogous to holding dreams close to you your entire life. dreams are dreams no matter how they manifest, even if they’re simply something you long for until your “end”.
Hope it to be there with you at your creation and at the end of your life; It will be generous to you wherever you stand; It will eventually be in full bloom at the end of hardships; The beginnings will seem humble, so prosperous will the future be
the entirety of this song reads like a story and this last refrain reads like the conclusion (kind of). the slight wording change from the previous choruses means a lot in that regard, more definite and firm. you will be okay. maybe not now, maybe not next week. but you will be.
suga’s interlude - halsey ft suga
Though the dawn before sunrise is darkest; don’t forget the stars you longed for only rise in the darkness
just a really pretty but heart wrenching lyric in the context of the entire song. he’s also used this metaphor several times. i love me a good string of consistency with minor adaptations to fit the vibe. this song also made me cry the first time i read the translations lmao.
my universe - coldplay ft bts
Because the trial we face now is just for a moment anyway; All you have to do is to just keep shining bright like now; And we will follow you, embroidering this long night
this could mean so many things depending on how you wanted to contextualize it. of course the song is about love, so you could view it in that way. we’re in the midst of a global pandemic where we can’t see each other. or maybe it’s simply existence. continue to exist and one day your bright light will be followed even in the darkest of nights.
also the og title of telepathy being 잠시 (for a moment) is so...min yoongi you are so cool
people - agust d
Did someone say humans are the animals of wisdom?; The way I see it, humans are the animals of regret
Your ordinaries are my extraordinaries; Your extraordinaries are my ordinaries; Your ordinaries are my extraordinaries; Your extraordinaries are my ordinaries
super simple to understand which i think makes it more poignant. especially if you contextualize it with everything he’s said or written regarding the plight of fame and how he himself grapples with it as min yoongi.
28 - agust d ft niihwa
just this whole song. if song request encapsulates yoongi’s musical ethos, this captures a lot of his general musings.
paradise - bts
Just living like this, surviving like this, that’s my small dream; Dreaming dreams, grasping dreams, breathing breaths, it’s often too much
a more blunt take on the simply existing is a good enough dream. yoongi’s 2018 new years message was one of the things that made me go “yes. Him™” so paradise is very <3 for me
interlude: shadow - bts
Flying high scares me; I mean, nobody had told me; how lonely it is here –;how my leap could be my fall
another thing he uses frequently, even as recently as an interview regarding permission to dance. the contemplation of how a fall is far scarier than landing because getting back up is uncertain.
Yeah, I’m you and you’re me, do you finally get that now?; Yeah, you’re me and I’m you, do you finally get that now?
the entirety of this song is haunting particularly paired with the sampling and the music video as a visual but this part is just...the whole idea of competing internal voices throughout the narrative of the song or if you’d rather truly treat the lyrics like a piece of literature, you have quite the unreliable narrator, one that’s trying to grapple with his own sense of self.
140503 at dawn - agust d
Pretending that I’m not lonely, pretending that I’m not suffering; needlessly pretending that I’m okay, and pretending hard that I’m strong; I built a wall in front of me, “Don’t come inside”; I’m an island in this wide ocean, “Don’t abandon me”
the entirety of agust d just makes me ache but i mainly pulled this part because he uses the island metaphor consistently. here, it’s used like i said before; achingly.
this song also gets overlooked a lot in the larger context of agust d but anyway
eight - IU ft suga
Island, yeah this is an island; a small island that we made for each other; Yeah, mm, forever young, the word ‘forever’ is a sandcastle; A farewell is just like an emergency text warning of a disaster; A morning met together with yearning; As each of us pass this eternity, we’re sure to meet again on this island
can i be honest and say i forgot this song came out at the beginning of the pandemic. anyway, if you haven’t heard the various times that jieun has spoke about this song and it’s conveyance, i encourage you to. the music video also gives a beautiful visual.
i wrote a small analysis of this when it came out so i’ll just put it here 
burn it - agust d ft max
I hope you don’t forget that giving up decisively also counts as courage
of course this can absolutely be taken at a literal meaning especially considering he said a similar iteration of this to someone on kkul fm BUT i also like looking at it in context of the entire song because maybe this is him trying to convince himself too, especially considering the wording of the last chorus doesn’t change it so it implies in order to get past the fire u need to let it burn first? burn it = giving up on some aspect of pain?
i see why max didn’t shut up for eight months about making this song i wouldn’t either hello
outro: tear - bts
im including this one firstly because i love the song but secondly to say i knew the second u all were surprised by yoongi saying he wrote this as essentially a break up song for bts and they all cried while listening to it that y’all don’t actually read or interact w their lyrics fjdklafjsd
just bc it’s a rap song doesn’t mean it’s a diss or a flex. weirdos.
intro: never mind - bts
I hope you forget about all your mistakes and such; Never mind; It’s not easy, but engrave this in your heart; If you think you’re going to crash, accelerate more, you idiot; Never mind, never mind; Whatever thorny path it may be, go run; Never mind, never mind; There are a lot of things that you can’t control
the entire composition of nevermind is similar to first love and shadow to me where you can just hear the emotion in his voice while performing it
this is also another general idea that he mentions a few different times through different songs which as we’ve seen i am <3 for
intro: the most beautiful moment in life - bts
once again i don’t have a specific lyric to pull i just love this song so much and i feel like it isn’t talked about enough because first of all the use of the basketball throughout the instrumental, the incorporation of the origin of his stage name into an entire song regarding his general existence as a performer and coming into the beginnings of sizeable fame, and just his general way of essentially writing one giant ode to something he loves and analogizing it to something else he loves to talk through internal struggles.
aka im once again saying min yoongi you’re so cool
first love - bts
same line of awe from above this whole song is just a story, a poem, a journal entry, a beautiful confession, i don’t know. this is yoongi’s best bts solo u can argue with a wall about it also if you were able to see this live i hope u have a terrible week (im joking)
every fancam i’ve ever seen of this makes me cry. so. do with that what you will in regards to how i feel about this song.
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dylanxmin · 4 years
Text
nobody does it like you do∣ k.nj
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this work made for valentine’s day and there is a masterlist where a couple of writers came together to write for the sprit of the valentin’s day. please check the masterlist, and give lots of love to each work !  ♡ ♡
bangtan pastries ; valentine’s mlist
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you didn’t fall in love with kim namjoon at the first sight, or he didn’t look anything sweet in the metal cage, but out of the ring, he was the sweetest, kindest one you can meet. Day by day, you fell in love and after two years, he decided to be the cheesy lover. 
OR to cringe you in and out on the valentine days.
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pairing; fighter!namjoon x female!reader
genre; cheesy romance, smut, light angst(very very light dark atmosphere,oops:), established relationship, valentine au, pwp?,,
rating; m +18
warnings; mention of blood(as nj is a fighter:), mention of sex, kinda toxic but not toxic relationship(they just way too in love:), cage fighting, mention of yoonmin(and they have daddy issues:), mention of crossdressing, namjoon is totally an exhibitionist(but not gonna happen), a couple of curse words, Valentine's Day cliches(of course, duhh!), master - pet kink, bdsm motives, bondage, shibari(?), dom namjoon, sub reader, oral (f), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, begging, dirty talk, pain kink, humiliation kink, degradation, choking, biting, marking, hair pulling, rough sex, messy sex, unprotected sex(u know what not to do:), ig reader has a thing for namjoon’s hands but yeah,,,
word count; 11.4k 
a/n; heyyy, happy late valentine’s???,,, well, i have lots of complicated thoughts on this one ‘cuz my mind and my muse had a big fight on this fic. One of them wanted it to be very, very dark while the other decide it would be too much(you should guess which one wanted it to be dark and which didn’t)... so ion know if this come out as dark or light? maybe in between? hopefully? Plus, smut took me ages to write, as it clear, I can’t write smut now. Yeah, tea is out ! lol. a n y w a y s.... hope you will enjoy reading it? PLS mind the warnings guys, ion want you to feel uncomfortable,, soo, enjoy it xx  ♡
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             ‘‘Listen to your heart when he's calling for you
                 Listen to your heart, there's nothing else you can do’’
The question starts with a wrong turn at the top. Not ‘why?’. It should be ‘how?’. Would be more fitting, more understandable. 
How did you fall in love with him? 
Yes, you. How exactly did you fall in love with the man you called the love of your life?
Because he was a fine looking man? He was tall? Got a sense of fashion? He was hot, maybe? 
No. You fall in love because he has everything you want. Everything you need. And also more. Even more. 
It was the way the dark pupils lost behind the curl of his eyelids in a good laugh. Sugar skin dips down to force out the cute little holes, the dimples. Or the apricots, you called them mostly. 
Maybe you fell in love because you were jealous of the way he loved, cared for his plants and simply wanted to take their place in his heart. Or, he was so caring that he could still love watering his plants, talking to them while loving you crazy. Sending you to the moon before you can understand the lackness of your weights, the easiness of your heart, he would take you back. Land you gently as ever.  
Not knowing for sure, but you may also have fallen in love with him when he rented the second bike for you, so you could go to the mountains with him. Or when he had read the book you mention out of the context, without even paying attention that you couldn’t even remember when he said he read it in three days. 
Maybe it had happened because he gave you a soda when he took it for himself, or the one time he had chosen to stay with you rather than going out with his friend because you weren’t feeling well enough. Maybe-
When the killer hands for his opponent tangled above your skin so carefully that it felt like a feather, it may be the reason. The same hands that bloomed scarlet stains bake the most beautiful, heavenly pastries for you to lose in the taste, you may or may not fall in love. 
But-
You could say countless examples and it wouldn’t be enough as it didn’t happen in one night, or because of a thing. Just simply as ever, you, fell in love with the most dangerous - as well as the softest - man in Korea. 
The ruthless, mellow, the raptorial, thoughtful, destructive fighter one can ever see in a lifetime. 
Brightest man in the fighting industry. The idol of the young ones. 
The Chopper. 
Your lover. Everything you want. And more. 
Kim Namjoon. 
The darkest night and the brightest star at the same time. Every nightmare, every heavenly dream he was able to be at the same time but now, inside the metal cage, he chose to be the first one. To be his opponent’s nightmare as the constant strikes didn’t stop, continued to smash on the skin of the man who was looking almost at the same age as your lover, something was cracking. 
Stage surrounded by the crowd, acclaimings, a chain of the name of your lover’s attached to the lips of the audience, he was feeding by it. As it was obvious by the curl of his mouth, back muscles going lack and strains again with every syllable of his name. 
Opposite to the others, you were silent. Tongue-tied, mostly. 
Not because you are afraid of the crimson on his hand, or the light of something inhuman deep inside of his eyes. You were muted against the glory he held around himself. The way he owned everything and everyone in there, you as well. Sun-kissed skin glowing with victory sweats, and more, the bell ringed. 
Once, twice, and three times. 
Bell of the Chopper’s victory call. And everyone going crazy behind you, beside you, in front of you, you continued to watch your lover. Muted. Frozen. Swollen with pride. Couldn’t even take your phone to stick this moment into eternity, even though you want to have this moment in your pocket. Your lover’s arm on the air, fist tight enough to break a neck, smile of his proud beamed on his face. Daunting glares melt the moment they land on yours, melting into something you may call affection. 
Maybe a bit of bashfulness, as well. 
But then, the familiar sweet apricots come to light, and the ice that holds you still breaks into million pieces. And you smile back, eyes heavy with unshed tears. Chest fluttering as the effect of seeing his dimples never, ever fades away. Starting to clap one palm to the other, ease takes over. Relief gives your air back in your lungs after you realize there is nothing to be afraid of. He, your lover, the Chopper, Kim Namjoon won the fight and he is safe now. There is no harm he could get. 
So, that means you can turn your back, and leave the crowd behind to wait for him in the locker room for him to get done with all the things he has to. Such as taking photos, talking with his boss, and filling his pocket with money. Shortly, the thing you don’t want to be included, so you pushed the iron door to get inside the to-be-empty room but clearly it wasn’t and you stop at the entrance like a deer in the headlights. 
Obviously, you weren’t expecting two shirtless men to eat each other’s face, but the loud thug of the door broke their sessions while two pairs of eyes turned over you. Shallow breaths, pink glowing cheeks, you must say that they looked adorable. 
‘‘Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess?’’ biting your lips to prevent any sort of voice from coming out, the face eaters’ smiles burned bright, like the pink horizon on their cheeks. One of them waved at you from afar, and you returned the act.  
The one with mint neon hair sat on the bench, brushing his hair back before greeting you. ‘‘I assume Namjoon won as you are not crying or screaming your lungs out?’’ 
‘‘Maybe you can be a little lighter than that, hyung.’’ even though the other tried to hide away the bluntless of the older, you snorted. He didn’t say anything wrong, though. 
Waving a hand, you open the locker of Namjoon to get his things to leave here quicker. ‘‘It’s okay Jimin-ah. I know Yoongi enough not to be bothered by him, and he is kinda right. I did cry and scream a lot when Namjoon lost a fight, so..’’ your smile and shake of your shoulder gave the younger boy relief as he moved further to settle beside you. Eyes beaming bright, he was up to say something. 
Probably something he shouldn’t. 
‘‘You gonna beat his ass, don’t you?’’ to-be whisper words coming out of the orange haired boy right beside, the older’s scoff towered behind you two. ‘‘As he took you to his match on Valentine’s Day. You must be angry.’’ 
Placing the big bag on the bench, beside Yoongi, you shake your head with a smile stuck on your mouth. While placing the cloths and couple of wires in the bag, you began. ‘‘Well, this is not the best way to be in on such a day but I’m not mad. I would be if he hadn’t won the match, but I’m not right now. Plus, are you mad at him because he took you to his match?’’ 
Before answering, Jimin leaned and put a not so light kiss to his boyfriend’s lip. Or his kinda boyfriend’s lips? You didn’t know, they were kind of weird about the whole relationship thing they had. For the last two years of your life, they were in an on-again, off-again relationship and this mainly caused Yoongi's fear of coming out by his closet. The very oh so famous businessman father of course wouldn’t let his son go all around the city with a man who had the most beautiful face that his highly known friends could see around his son’s arms, and god forbid Jimin sometimes wears so mini shorts and skirts that could get the said man have ultimate heart attacks. Mr. Min’s fear was probably beyond what you could think, and that’s why Yoongi never was able to come out and act the way his heart wanted. His father holds so much power in his palms. And Jimin sometimes was okay with this, and sometimes it was the opposite. So that’s why you weren’t so sure if this was a relationship right now. It was something, something cute, funny, deadly and very, very destructive. But something. 
‘‘He’ll watch mine after his so, it’s okay.’’ his giggle alarming yours, you both voiced out soft laughs to the air of the room. After a couple of words exchanging, the iron door opened without a crack or a force like it weighing nothing, and you know, who was behind it. And the idea flapped your stomach before even seeing his face. Even after two years, you still haven’t built up immunity to seeing him with bruises. 
Probably he had very few, but still. It played with your stomach. 
Though, it wasn’t easier being far away from him only to not see his bruises, marks that were left behind after the momentarily act of violence. The need was immediate after the ring bell. The need where you only want to hold him between your arms, protect him as much as you can from any kind of danger, and even though you weren’t built for that, he would let you to cover him for protection. Let you play your little game in your mind if that means you were happy. But the cruel pain would still affect you as seeing his skin blooming purples and reds never been an easy thing. Of course, only on him. 
Of course, the man that you had no idea about the name he had or the age he’s in, didn’t bother you. Not in the past, or the moments ago. It only fascinated you. A grand sample of the power Kim Namjoon has had in him. A staggering but not a bad reminder of your lover’s impact. 
‘‘Ready to see me, Moonlight?’’ the honey sound coming from deep in his throat, it’s enough to shake your breath. Torturing the skin above your bottom lip, you made the choice of turning your face to him, and the ache was rapid to crawl and sit heavy on your chest. 
He opened his arms to guard you from the acidic pain you will have all around your skin, you run right into the giant embrace. But, acid still manages to boil the poor skin. Whether in his embrace or not. It was just a tiny bit more comfortable way to burn in agony. Even though knowing the man who lost the fight was probably too damaged to get another strike, you just wanted to land a punch to his rival. 
Again, again, again, again, and yes, again-
‘‘Shh… you know I’m okay, right? I won. We won, Moonlight. Look at me.’’ swelled fingers lifting the chin, glossy eyes reflected from his. Every muscle working so hard not to cry, almost purple ish, slightly open wound on the corner of his lips didn’t help much. Cheekbone throbbing below the fingertips you covered on his face, you stand on your fingertips to smack a kiss. No word would be enough for you to soothe you both, more likely yourself. 
Or maybe, your voice would crack so hard that you wouldn’t be able to hold the persistent tears anymore and would cry out loud. Which you weren’t sure if that was a bad thing. 
‘‘Does… Does it hurt?’’ voice coming out raucously, you sniffed. Croons of his pupils curl so caringly as Namjoon’s heart is way too soft for your red buttoned nose. Too much for the image he holds. Smile creeping up with a morning sun swiftness, the warmness it spread is fast. Almost sweet as the first light of the first summer day, it heals you from inside a bit. Then, Namjoon shakes his head, leans a bit to capture you in a world lifting kiss like there is no one. Open-mouthed, saliva mixing under the sweet taste, your heart purrs as you receive the source of your addiction. His kiss, and the chubby lips were indeed addicting. 
Behind the fake coughs, you pull away as the last piece of air left your lungs. Space full of loud panting, staring continued. 
‘‘You see, I am great. Nothing hurts, unless you start to cry and leave me aching.’’ snort drawn out by you, Namjoon frowns as he is offended. You open your mouth to say something, but the older of the room forestalls. 
‘‘Okay, love birds. Shall we give you some privacy or can you lead this sticky sickness somewhere else?’’ Both of you focus on the man who speaks by turning your heads at him. He still stands half naked in the room, his body looks a bit red as he warmed his muscles before his fight. And they still hang broad and visible. 
But the reply won’t come from you or Namjoon-
‘‘Sickness? You were humping my leg minutes ago.’’ Jimin spats, vein throbbing ferociously on the side of his neck. 
‘‘That was different, they-’’ 
‘‘Different my ass!’’ orange hair sways from one way to the other, Jimin knits his brow. ‘‘You are only disgusted because they are in a committed relationship and your feckless ass can’t do that.’’ 
The mood change was so sudden that the smile on the corner of your lips faded so late. No one, especially Yoongi wasn’t waiting for this as his mouth parts, voiced breath drawn out. He just blinks and watches as Jimin throws a tee over his naked body, and furiously leaves the room by your side as murmuring a faint ‘sorry’. It has Yoongi stand stock-still for a couple of minutes before he goes after Jimin, running and yelling his name. 
As you said before, they were something. Something your mind couldn’t catch the mood swings. Happy for one minute, a total disaster the next. 
‘‘He’s gonna have his ass sore in the night.’’ against Namjoon’s bluntless, you punch his shoulder out of reflex. And he laughs. 
‘‘Okay, okay. Not saying anything.’’ his hand hangs on the air, a dark shade washes over his eyes as his smile turns wicked from sweet. And you know what just possessed him. Both because the familiar smirk, and being captured between him and the cold lockers. ‘‘Or, would you want your ass sore instead?’’ 
His light brown locks messed with the darker ones, forehead covered by a couple of them, he hovered over you. Breath hitching around the throat, him jamming you to the locked with his huge, muscled fighter body has you warm. A little bit too hot as you gulp loudly, nasty grin grows more. And you want it. Want him to smash you right on the cold metal and make you sore everywhere but someone could walk in. Just the same as you did to your friends. 
‘‘What’s wrong, Moonlight? Don’t you want to celebrate?’’ index finger on your cheek wondrously shakes you inside and out. Each draw of the slender skin has you gasping because that’s all you can over him. ‘‘Not so happy over our win?’’ 
A smile comes out in your breath, you shake your head while his leg finds a way between your legs. ‘‘Not- not because of that. Someone… someone might come-’’ 
‘‘And that would be a bad thing?’’ 
Lips parts, closes and parts again. Brush of his fat thigh on your skin feels too much, you blurt out a moan before you get your head together. The moment you saw him without any cover over his upper half on the cage, you wanted to have his way with you. The need was burning by the start of the night, every punch, every loud growl had been making it grow bigger and bigger and you were pulsing on the down below. If he had his way with you, you could even forget the fact that he had a fight on Valentine’s Day, but the side of your brain, the consciousness place was screaming otherwise. Not that you ever listened to it.  
Namjoon kissed again. 
It was only understandable of you to give in. As he is the Kim Namjoon, the one who knew so well about taking whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter if it’s a fight, a place he wanted to get in, or you. He will get whatever he wants, and whenever. The taste on his tongue dancing sweet and thick down yours, you’d gladly stand defenceless. What can one do? He wanted it, and he got it. 
Kiss longs enough to choke you both, though he looks way unfazed comparing you, it broke apart. ‘‘This- this is not how I imagined spending Valentine’s with you.’’ chest heaving, you put your hands on his broad chest in case he tries to lean in. Not that it’ll affect him much, but… 
Namjoon’s brow knits while the ghost of his smirk wanders wide around his mouth. ‘‘Exactly. We need to do it, it’s Valentine’s Day-’’ he exclaims but you cut him immediately. 
‘‘Not in an ugly basement of some cage fighting thing going on!’’ 
He rolls his eyes with curled lips. ‘‘Like it would be the first time.’’ and you punch him this time. Hard enough to hurt because he deserved it. He laughs, claiming it’s only a joke and lands another but quick kiss. ‘‘Let me get clean and we can get out of here, okay? I may or may not have some plans.’’ then he won’t speak for feeling like eternity to you. No matter how many times you ask or whine what his plans are, he continues to hum the same song. He showers, the same hum on his lips, he changes into clean clothes while it still lingers. 
It is true that waiting sucks. It even more when the man you love so much keeps you waiting. You play with your phone until he is done with whatever he is doing, give some breaks only to huff and puff occasionally as both missing and curiosity fills too much of you. You know it’s not much as you both don’t like to be so fancy over anything, and don’t have so much to spend too. But whatever it is, it’ll make you so happy and thrilled because spending time with him always has you ecstatic. You were ecstatic the first time you saw him and have been till today. 
All the previous protests you held against your friend’s request of going to a cage fighting night had died the moment your eyes landed on him. Opposite to what Jungkook thought about you being petrified because of fear of all the bone crashing sounds, blood and violence, you weren’t. 
It was epiphany.  
Coming to a realization of the evil indeed could look beautiful, mesmerizing. Shouldn’t have been surprised so much as the evil itself is an angel, fallen or not. And it looked glorious in the cage, hiding under the skin of pink haired - brown locks were once pink and had undercut. - man who was beating the shit out of his rival in the cage. If he had that face when he lurked in the blood of the first one’s, you wouldn’t blame them for getting kicked out of the gates of heaven. It’s only natural to obey him, fooled by him. 
Even that moment, you knew he was everything. You knew you had to be with him, somehow. You craved his sweat covered body, his sinful fingers, parted lips to close them sweetly. 
His rage, his laser eyes, his flames-
The lust came before love, but they got along well. Falling in love felt like falling from the sky, and you were glad that you could understand how he felt years ago. The obscurity of it was terrifying, yet the thrill still beamed high. 
You were intoxicated by him, soothed by the tasty nectar of his apple. You were in love with him. And you were more than ready to be dismissed. 
‘‘Daydreaming again?’’ the man in his not so tight black jeans, matching boots and nothing more is now standing an arm length away, remains of shower still alive as his muscles and tattoos gleaming with the water drops. Air hitching around your throat, his smile beamed while he was busy drying his hair by a towel. ‘‘Bet you were thinking about me and what my plans are.’’ 
‘‘Cocky aren’t we?’’ a throaty laugh was his answer at your eye roll, a kiss you barely felt licked against your temple before he disappeared again to get fully clothed. A little bit of lying wouldn’t hurt him, but the truth about you thinking him twenty-four-seven would damage your pride so it was okay. Namjoon would not mind it, anyway. 
                                                                                                       ⋅*⋆ ♥ ⋅*⋰*⋅ ♥ ⋅*⋆ ⋅
The ride back home was a bit tough both for you two. Maybe more for him but if he wanted he could easily ease down your endless questions, but fortunately for both he didn’t. He hummed every question with a completely blank face, and chose to drive you wild. 
‘‘This is our way back home. We are going home?’’ 
A hum.
‘‘Are we going to the pub in the corner of our street? What was it, Bailey’s?’’ 
Another hum. 
‘‘You are not gonna tell me aren't’ you? This sucks, waiting sucks, you suck!’’ 
And there is the fucking hum and the laugh. He laughed at you like you were the one who acts hilarious. For the whole ride - and it was nothing more than twenty minutes but it felt like it - he hummed and laughed. Most of the questions were welcomed by silence, and the others died around your throat before even voiced out as well as your enthusiasm. Knowing he was doing this on purpose didn’t stop you from falling right into his game. Rather, you stuck in the middle of it and the struggle for going out pulled you even more. 
As they said, once you’re in the spider web, you fucked up. 
Well, you didn’t know who said it but it was true as you couldn’t get out of the bog of question and unknown. A nature you could call it, your curse. Being the absolute form full of curiosity and undying grudge you hold when you wouldn’t be able to get what you want. Maybe a bit spoiled as the other always called you, it never bothered you. What’s wrong with being a bit spoiled as long as you have what you wanted and didn’t hurt anyone? Well, at least the damages were not bad.
‘‘Home sweet home, huh? Hop off now.’’ it was direct when he stopped the engine of the car. Though, not rude. Namjoon could never be rude, and you know it better than anyone. Maybe he is in the cage, but that’s only natural. Cage was for animals, and he was one inside of the worn out metal. 
And again, you were angry. ‘‘Why didn’t you tell me I guessed it right at the head of the ride. I could have suffered less, you know.’’ and you had all right to feel your blood raging inside your veins, jumping right and left. Slamming the ages old car’s door without having mercy on it, you act before him and hurried your steps into your apartment. One hand searching the bag for the now lost keys. Of course, you weren’t just angry because you were going to spend the night in your house, you loved being at home with him. You were half-serious, half-acting your rage as a revenge. 
‘‘Woah, now don’t take our anger out of my girl, huh. What do you say?’’ he was coming back at you, grin hide away. Namjoon always adored how you were the literal ball of anger. Looking from out, everyone could easily misperceive who was in the charge in this relationship, but when you were all alone with your demons lurking free, he was always too eager to bend the knee. 
Maybe he didn’t have to work hard to get you at first, as you were already too deep in him. Yet, he knew. He knew that he'd chase you until the end of the world and beyond only to be with you more. To be close to you. To be yours. 
He shamelessly eyed the shape of your hips while you were climbing the stairs, as it’d be dumb not to. Outraged echoes of your mud covered boots beaming all around the walls, he bite his lip hard. It was a shame not to just have you right here, right now, where everyone could easily see. Maybe another time-
Now, your reaction is more important for him, so he waits while you fight with your purse to find the key, opening the door of your shared apartment, and then stopping instantly. 
As the night only allows you to see so little thanks to the light that echoed by the street, your body leans on the other sense you had. The smell that you shouldn’t smell tangles around your nostrils, magically the taste finds a way to bloom above your tongue, watering all over your mouth and you turn your head at Namjoon who is not sharing the same confusion with you. Rather, he was smiling with brows lifted high. And it only lead you to think-
‘‘What did you do?’’ he laughed at you as waiting this reaction, pushing you inside to close the door behind you and him. 
When the lights on he whispers behind your ear, way too delighted. ‘‘What does it look like?’’ 
And then, they were the things that shouldn’t be in your living room. The not so big clothed table, having lots of ornate belongings that didn't belong to you. Black covering above the white table cloth, there were so many forks, spoons that you would never use. The combination of red roses and black candles made you sick on the stomach as you stood there, mouth hanging open, literal disgust in your feature. 
Turning your head once again, you faced the man who was biting his smile, hiding it behind a thin line. ‘‘What do you think?’’ he asks, although knowing the answer very well, Namjoon needs to hear it from your lips. The delight was shrouded under it. And before you can utter an answer, you give one look to the table, and then your lover’s expecting face. Words loading to your closed mouth, you pushed them to the air rather than swallowing down. 
‘‘It’s hideous, I loved it!’’ 
Running in the middle of the room to examine the table better, Namjoon follows from behind, a laughter on his throat. From up close, it looked even worse. The absolute cliche you never grew liking. But you loved it because it was also not fitting with the man who Namjoon was and it made all these things amusing. Yes, he was kind, caring and a romantic without acknowledging it but never like this. More likely, he would do things without any romantic motive in them and that's exactly the reason you fell in love with him. He never bought you roses, but you were growing so many plants that one can call it a garden. He never took you out to a fancy place for dinner or never, ever made a table like that but he did cook the best food you ever had in your life. 
As the room filled with the tasty smell of something, you were going to turn back to ask what was the cause of it but the broad weight capturing you between the fat arms, your question melted away. 
Small, semi-wet touch of kisses painting your neck, you grabbed the head of some chair. Lashes flutter shut, you lean a bit back and bare your neck for more. ‘‘It smells so good. What is it?’’ barely whispered words coming out of you, Namjoon kissed the crook in the back of your neck, creating a deep purple before popping the skin off and clearing his throat. 
‘‘It’s something you would love to eat, but before-’’ the sound of his pocket continued after his word died, fingertips occupying you by the play on your stomach, the barrier of your shirt already passed. Flutter of your lashes, you lean back and wait rather than asking him what he was up to, or when he gathered these cheesy atmospheres. Namjoon chose to not rush anything, taking his phone from his pocket, steadily, unrushed. As he had already prepared it, he only had to touch the play button and the music filled the room. 
‘‘Oh- NO!’’ the flip of your stomach was funny as the laugh popped out as a reflex. Familiar melody echoing through the ice blue walls, your body moves with the man behind you, simultaneously. Following his steps while taking little right and left, tiny touches of his lips continued as he giggled with you. 
She's a little pirate in my mind.
‘‘You gotta be kidding me, right?’’ things have you surprised as they were highly odd, not expected from the man who never does anything this obvious. And plus, this isn’t being romantic in your language, this was being cheesy for both of you and you have had no idea why he was doing these all of a sudden. 
Give her all the love she gives to me. Rather than replying to you, he go alongs with the song. 
‘‘Never felt this love from anyone’’ Namjoon nudges at the side of your neck with the tip of his nose before talking - not mimicking the song this time -. ‘‘Remember the song, yet? It’s from the time where we first gathered on the bar, you were there with your friend, staring deep into my soul?’’ 
A man can never dream these kind of things
Especially when she came and spread her wings
Whispered in my ear the things I'd like
Surely you remembered the day he was talking about, how could you forget it while you did wait for that moment to come for feeling like a lifetime after you first saw him inside the cage. All that sweaty caramel skin had glowed in your dreams, the image of his tightened muscles left you leaking for so many nights. Therefore, you obviously remembered the day when Jungkook stalked him to find his favorite place so you two could act like you were always hanging there - which it worked -. There was no use pretending you weren’t captivated by him, so you did stare at him too much. Until he had noticed you, asked for your number, and fucked you on your bed, wall, kitchen… Poor Jungkook for hearing all of them, though, you learned that he used them for his own pleasure, so you guessed it was a win - win situation. 
‘‘Well, you know I get what I want, so…’’ the laugh coming rough, almost reminding a growl on your neck, he turned you over so you can meet him in the eye. Now, back rubbing one of the chairs, his long bony fingers already wrapped above your cheeks, you did the exact thing from the day. Stare deep in him. 
Side of his lips curled high, he wets his lips. ‘‘Hope you will have the same courage later in the night.’’ the eyes of him digs in you cold and greedy, your gulp sounds loud. It has him laughing, not so loud ‘hah’ presents his pearly teeth. ‘‘Before you, we have other things to eat.’’ 
                                             ⋅*⋆ ♥ ⋅*⋰*⋅ ♥ ⋅*⋆ ⋅
As Namjoon told you the details that you were very oblivious to, you learned that he got Jungkook’s help to decorate your apartment, all the cheesy atmosphere related to your sweet valentine just because you grumble behind his back that he wasn’t romantic enough, - even though you couldn’t remember when - and obviously, he wanted to punish you by doing this. Well, he didn’t call this as punishment but for you, it was because the romantic words, the whole decoration was too sweet for the souls you two had. 
‘‘It’s good that Jungkook helped you out while we were at your fight, but you know that he won’t help you with the cleaning, right?’’ like a lightning just struck on him, the pastry fell on the plate. His puppy digits grow wide, you find it beyond cute. 
‘‘Then it’s good news that I have the most caring girlfriend by my side?’’ the shake of your head wears his smile off, as he betrayed. He will think better next time before covering the whole floor with rose petals, now. And you hide your giggle behind the delicious pastry that he baked by filling your mouth with it, as his whines loud. ‘‘After all of these, I guess it’s too much to wait for a thank you in return.’’ 
Nodding, you take another bite. ‘‘Cream cheese mixes with the apricots way better than I thought.’’ he watches your struggle to lick the remains of the cream, so he leans and cleans the corner of your lips with his thumb. Brain freezes for a couple of minutes as his tongue curls around the thumb, leaving nothing behind. ‘‘Why- erm- why the apricot danish, though?’’ 
He leans closer, elbows rest on the table as the voluptuous eyes lure in you, stomach makes a funny flip at the way his stare goes between your eyes and the now chewed lips. Voice low and rough, it���s enough to have you clenching your walls. 
‘‘I wanted you to experience how it feels to eat me, as I always do the eating out.’’ unnecessarily bold words has you gasping, crumbles of the pastry goes to the wrong pipe and you almost choke. 
Wine nearly dries off when you clash the glass to your mouth, drinking it to ease the coughing. Namjoon watches all of these very calm, grin sneaky on his mouth. The back of his head was busy with what he prepared for later that night, in your bedroom. 
While you were still dizzy with the image of tonight's fighting, the duality he was showing was whirling your head, tongue feels lull, eyes burning from behind. And you loved how he makes you weak in and out. A toy at the end of his words. You pressed your thighs together to reduce the ache, and it barely helped. All you can think of is now his sweat glistening muscled back, your nails adding sweet crimsons to the palette, tongues ferociously devouring each other, breaths loud enough for your neighbour to hear as he takes you down-
‘‘S-so, you are the desert itself?’’ 
As the images flashing behind your head having you too hot, you had to cut it with blurting out the first thing that related to the topic but away enough to get you cold, again. Though, your voice did come out weird, high and distracted. 
Amusement tangled on the line of your boyfriend, his smirk only adds gasoline to your fire. And you visibly could see the reflection of the sharp edged flames by his eyes. To your liking, he didn’t force more and nods while explaining.
‘‘Well, you always refer to my dimples as apricots and we can agree that my personality kind of bittersweet as the cheese cream and when you mix them-’’ he abruptly stops and opens his hands in front of his face, resembling a blooming flower. ‘‘Voila! A complete pastry that you can enjoy.’’ Suspicious enough, his features change. As innocent as he can, he looks at you with wide, shining orbs and the man who teases you, almost chokes you down with his words now nowhere to be seen. Like he was never there at first. And this was exactly what was fucking you up every time his duality slips. Like he wasn’t the one who was breaking bones as they were chips, washing the scarlet down from his flesh, mounting behind you like he was the animal. Would growl, bite the thin skin over your neck so severely that it would bloom purple and yellow for the whole week and maybe more- 
This time, to capture your slipped attention, Namjoon had to wave his hand inches away from your blushed face. You had to swallow down hard as the cock of his brow openly, showing that he knew exactly what your dirty mind was busy with. And the tongue poking his cheek from inside always enough to have you drooling, as the air is getting thick and bothering you have to drink another sip of wine. 
‘‘Clear as glass, your mind can’t stop thinking what I can and will do to you. So, I want to make it obvious that at least one of us tried to be kind today.’’ the index finger pointing himself, he smiled one more time before his eyes went deep black. Shaking you in and out. And your mind wandered around the thought of you getting under the table just so you could hump on his leg as long as he lets you. But the tone of his coming words warned you before you can lose on the thought. ‘‘Now, I want you to go in there, and wait for me. That’s something you can do?’’ 
Behind your fluttering eyelids, your eyes trailed where his finger pointed, the mutual bedroom, and back his face. As the tone and the words enough for you to understand who was sitting in front of you now wasn’t just Namjoon. 
He was the Chopper. 
Merciless, brutal, bruising. 
The Chopper and his killer hands, choker fingers, cutting teeth. 
Everything you wanted and more. Everything you can’t even dream of. 
‘‘Y-yes. Yes, I can do that, Master.’’ the name enjoys the man, he feels proud that you can go into submissiveness even before he says much. In the end, he did train you for that, and he did it well because now, you are on your feet, walking further to the room he pointed by tripping over your shoe just once. 
It’s another whiplash for you to go into your room and find a black hook, secured to your ceiling after you turn the lights on. It wasn’t there before, was it? You’d have known if you had something like that on your ceiling because weird as ever, you stare there too much. Whether when you were overthinking or just dazed upon. Shaking your thoughts away, you forced yourself to focus on the hook again. Because obviously, it wasn’t the best time to think what you were doing in your seperate time as you had a fucking hook over your head, and a Master inside. 
‘‘That’s right.’’ well, he wasn’t sitting on the table inside like you guessed as his breath is tickling behind your ear. ‘‘I will hang you there, in the middle of our room, all tied up, helpless, and then-’’ with the connection of his skin on your sides, not so high from your hips, you shut your eyes and leaned back. He grabs your skin hard enough to draw a whimper, before continuing. ‘‘Eat your pretty cunt until you cry, overwhelmed. Then, gonna fuck you again, again and again, for you to cry even more. How that sounds, pet?’’ 
The last part putting chills all over your skin, you tremble under his embrace. Voice so controlled, husky, dizzying that your knees ready to give up just from that. Years after, the impact of his words never faded. 
‘‘Sounds… s-sounds good, Master. Sounds so good.’’ even though knowing you shouldn’t, your hands at your side, burns with the need of holding him close so you can brush your ass over his crotch to get a friction. It feels so empty, and that can push you into a stage where it drives you mad. ‘‘Please-’’
‘‘As a pet, don’t you think you talk too much even though no one asks you anything?’’ 
It hits as sharp as a whip to the gut, with the shame of making your Master angry, you feel like crying. But you only nod and utter certain words. ‘‘Yes, Master. I’m sorry.’’ 
Then, everything starts and goes so smoothly. The acts are unrushed, familiar, thrilling in a way that your stomach feels like a cheerleader and doing some flips over and over again. It even causes another rush of dizziness to you more. You’ve got used to feeling his hands on you, on the skin, so elegant yet enough to break, but against his smooth touch, the rope now covering your body, restrains your arms on your back in a very aesthetic way, has your heart fluttering its wings.  
His silent grunt reaches your ears weakly when he finishes with the last knot, and now you are bare as ever, helpless, and in his mercy. 
Before he talks, his kiss on the neck is full of lusciousness. ‘‘Just one last step, and then you will be my dessert for tonight.’’ nothing higher than a whisper, his words have you gasping. Nowhere on your body left unaffected by the sinister’s great word play. Behind your back, Namjoon’s eyes are going deeper and darker, stars glowing with lust in them, and you don’t need to see them to know it. Witnessing and memorizing the reactions, the actions of his body came at the same time with the hasty need you had for him, and it goes for both of you. 
So, when he finally finishes with you tied and hanged, you know his tongue rolled over his sharky-white teeth. 
‘‘Does anything bother you, baby? Something too tight, or loose maybe?’’ 
Safety is the thing Namjoon values much, even though you love it when he loses control and attacks you like an animal in bloodlust, you still stop and check yourself. Floor is a ghost for your toes, barely there for you to hold on to, everything seems fine when you try to escape, writhing in the trap of him, purposely trying to hurt yourself by the ropes but nothing hurts. At least nothing hurts that much because you like it when things hurt. Especially the thing standing behind your back, hovering over you, touch of his lips wet and affectionate on the flushed skin.  
Finally, Namjoon gets his answer. ‘‘Nothing hurts, Master. Thank you.’’ 
And he laughs at that. Not too much but enough to draw a sound between his teeth. ‘‘Always so good, so grateful to his Master, aren’t you little pet?’’ a tiny slap on your bare asscheek and you answer him with a breathy yes, master. 
Namjoon’s fingers move slowly, like in an exploration. First on your shoulders, nail drawing red where it touches, a thin line of tiny bruises. It goes all the way down from your shoulders to your hips, plays around the rope where it slightly covers your breast, capturing them in their own triangle shaped ropes. When he stops to draw circles inches high between your legs, you jerk your hips and that causes you to lose your balance. 
‘‘We are so responsive today.’’ he chuckles but it dies with the bite of his nails on the same spot as he positions you back. ‘‘So out of manners, can’t even stay still for Master. You are being useless like this, and I don’t like to play with a pet that has an empty skull. But you already know it, don’t you?’’ 
His nails are still digging your skin, it brings tears to your eyes and you nod. ‘‘I-I know, I’m sorry.’’ 
‘‘Apologizing won’t work if you continue to act like a ill-behaved toy.’’ to underline his anger, he lands another slap on your ass but this time it burns. And it takes all your effort to not writhe under it. 
‘‘I won’t do it again-’’ 
Another hit encourages your first tear to roll over to leave a wet trail on your face. Skin burning, itching, but all you feel is ecstasy to have more. To him, you shouldn’t enjoy it when he tries to punish you for not behaving right, but you can’t help it. Every strike, every killing hit brings shameless joy in you and you just can’t get enough. 
His octopus tattooed hand grabs over the bruised skin. ‘‘Are you enjoying this? Did I corrupt you that much, Puppy?’’ he snickers, teeth biting the flesh of your neck and you let your head rest on his shoulder. A similar smile tugs on your mouth, another tear goes down. 
‘‘I love it when Master hurts me. It feels too good.’’ 
Sounds sick, but there is no use of hiding the truth. Licking over the bite he gave you, Namjoon replies with the remain of his smile appearing on his words. ‘‘Oh, I know that baby. I know how you look stunning in red. All smiley with tears.’’ 
You giggle as his fingers go lower, playing with the skin of your slit. Though, you stay still. No matter how much it tickles when your blood rushes over there, even when his finger finds your needy clit. Already throbbing in bliss, you stay still. Though, even when he says you shouldn’t move, he likes to make a trembling mess out of you. Maybe it’s wrong to feel, but your tears give him unbearable joy. If the cry was caused by him, though. Otherwise, he could fuck up if someone even cause your lip to tremble which he proved that, many times. 
With hands tied up behind, you have too little mobility. Plus, your toes barely touch the floor, so even when he starts to rub your clit, you can only thrash as a response. Moaning after every rude circle, the heat was building fast and heavy in your stomach. Soft kisses on your neck turn into wet ones, and include his teeth. Available other hand goes up to hang around your breasts, toying around the now hardened buds, pulling when you least expect, and earning another choked moan. 
His very clothed body against your naked one creates a big contrast, a visible sample to show who is in charge, but you can feel how ready he is behind his clothes, his groin hard and furious as he rubs it on your hips with controlled movements. And every rub remanding how empty you are, his fingers above your clit making it even worse as it builds the sweet coil inside, inches high from your stomach. 
Pushing your hips back, you pleaded, voice all broken. ‘‘Feels.. feels so empty. P-please fill me, Master.’’ 
His fingers at your entrance, plays with your mind to believe he would push them in. You gasp as he just pushes his thick digits inches, mocks you with a laugh as he takes them back right away. 
‘‘Asking so cute and docile, yet you will feel that a bit more.’’ 
And you whine loud, not in a rebellious way but much like in need. Which, that is what you are, a needy mess as you were dreaming of him from the start of this day, seeing him half naked, angry, in an act of violence, drenched in sweat. Today was a torture, and Namjoon contunied the ruthless game. Rubbing, pulling, twisting every tender spot, your nipples, clit, inside your thighs, over your stomach. Every inch of you tortured, played by him, and it was going to continue as you heard a rustle behind you. His hands stopping on your thighs, he sighs. 
‘‘Fuck, my pet looks so tasty, all wet and ready.’’ your walls dripping, Namjoon licks his lips as the sight has him hungry. The pink skin nearly drooling in front of his sight, he was beyond ready to eat you, drink everything you give.
Like a starved man, on his knees, he takes a lick from you. The taste whirling his head, he growls, holding you tighter in his palms while you try to chase his tongue. Sob so agonized as it leaves your lips. 
But when his tongue finally finds the throbbing core, in relief and heat you let your head fall back. Wanting to clench your palms but the robes won’t let it as he tied some of your fingers, too, only to leave you more desperate. So you whine even more when his tongue pokes your insides, not entering but enough to shake your legs, swirl your head and to lose your breath into the room. Humiliating as ever, every swirl of his tongue pulls another cry, another tear, and his name the only thing that spills from your lips. 
Mind blinded by one thing. And it’s just The Chopper. 
His hot tongue. 
Tickling hair. 
Bruising hold.
Bite over your skin, here and there had you whimper repedately. The rich ardor boiling high, ready to explode as he circles, and circles, and circles his tongue over your clit- 
His lips lock around the frantic nub- 
And it causes you to lose yourself in the consuming delight, coming on his face as he starts to suck your clit. Toes curling, thighs trembling as the sharp euphoria boils in your veins, blood pumping faster as your eyes go behind your head. 
But Namjoon won’t stop until he catches every drip, sucking the spent bud, pushes you to the edge of overstimulation and your cries won’t work, either. 
‘‘Please, please, Master please,’’ is all you can say without even knowing what you were begging for. 
Which this is all you losing control more and more, limbs going weak, head dibs into the thick, blurry stage where the only thing you want is Namjoon. The only thing you need, the only thing you feel covered by him and you fell into the substage where he has you in his palm. To use it on behalf of both you and himself. To bring joy in your submissive brain with his domineering talks, touches, attacks. You were coming down from your first high, but already lost on the sensation where everything just started. The Chopper’s tongue cleaning the remains of your climax off your inner thighs, he gets on his feet after leaving two specific bruises, red and purple, by sucking the flesh hard and deep. 
‘‘I made you come but you still beg for more? One high isn’t enough for a slut like you, hm?’’ next, his fingers shove into your hair, pulling by the roots rough. ‘‘Nothing enough unless you have my cock in you, you greedy bitch.’’ 
Words nothing but like slaps landing on your face, your breath hitches under your moan. It should feel wrong to get off on hearing these, but the words throbs where you need the most. 
Fist to the gut, but the pain that comes with it is a bliss. 
Vulgar, yet caring your needs like a feather on the skin. 
Shady, vehement, maybe even tainted but you can’t stop loving that it cuts your heart and brings wings out of the wounds. It may be bleeding, but bandages have flowers on them. 
On your toes, it has all your effort but you manage to push your ass high, right on his crotch to tease, touches nothing more than a wind on the hair, you still giggle as he grunts and pulls your head back. The angle wicked as your neck looks like it’s going to give up, you whimper low by the pain. 
Sick smile still tugged on your mouth. ‘‘Yes, yes that’s true. Your pet is all empty, needy. Need you to mark her like you would mark your territory, Master. Your pet needs your cum on her.’’ maybe it is because of the words you just said, or the pout on your lips, Namjoon growls like an animal, hands grabbing every available flesh, pulling, clawing as he wants to tore your skin off and reach your soul to corrupt it visibly like he didn’t break you already. 
Then he bites down the skin between your neck and shoulder, enough to draw blood. 
‘‘My territory?’’ he spits. He sounds outraged, and even though you said things enough to get him angry, the shade of joy is still in his tone so you know he also likes how you provocate him. ‘‘Well, after all a pet should be treated the way it deserves.’’ 
Humiliation burns hot red, you squirms at the words. A need of holding on to something is increasing in you as after coming down by your high never stopped being tiring. With him, it’s like you feel everything ten times harder, deeper, and undoubtedly better. However, it only causes you to want more, never having enough of the things he gives. And you had a whole night to consume one another. 
When he talks, you see his reflection on your dressing mirror by the corner of your eyes. His hand ready above his belt, lewdness lingers on his smirk. And he looks gorgeous, hovering behind you, huge and sturdy. If you weren’t held by these ropes, your knees would give up many minutes ago. 
‘‘As we are animals tonight, shall we continue our hunt?’’ shaking you from head to toe, he truly looks like a predator with the gaze of a wolf, ready to eat you whole, make a feast out of you. Remains of your ecstasy shines when the light hits his face. A very graphic proof that he is out for hunting. Already captured his prey, and now there is only one thing left to do. 
To devour. 
As he finally releases his dick, it hangs angry and gigantic. The head in a deep red, shows how much he needs to come, it’s already wet, nearly dripping. In awe, and hunger, you watch him kicking his pants aside, taking everything off and leaving himself naked as you. With that, more of his tattoos reach your eyes as they go up and down. Sizing him up like you never see him, truly naked, looking like a partly completed palette with his body covered with so many colors. So many figures, numbers, blacks, reds, blues… 
Having so many things, he creates his noble singularity. Becoming a very special piece of his own. 
A mouth watering sight. All those muscles, buffy chest, eyes that have a hold of your soul, you leak even more. Though, he stays there, enjoys the way you watch him hungrily, as he strokes himself with slow moves. Eyes crossing each other’s paths on the mirror and he cocks a brow before letting his head fall back as he continues to stroke himself. 
His dimples out but from biting his lower, thinned lip and the taste of the pastry he baked blooms at once, covering all over your tongue as you want to dive it in his dimples, cover them wet with sloppy kisses. The thirst distinguishes itself once again. Murky and strong that you have to clench your walls, emptiness drives you mad more as he just continues to pleasuring himself while you literally hang from your ceiling, dirtying all over your carpet with how much you leak desperately. 
As expected, one low keen whimper by him is all it takes for you to let everything aside and submit to his merciless game. Fluttering like a fish on a net, you beg without holding nothing, tears streaming hot and fast. 
‘‘Namjoon, Master, please-... just please can you please fuck me? Please I need this, I need you, please?’’ 
‘‘Oh, was I too intense, maybe?’’ even though he asks as he worries, he still has that goddamn smile while placing himself behind you. Brush of his red skin to your damp pussy has you choke on your breath immediately. The loss of the contact affected you more than you realised and now having him so close feels just like heaven. Or hell. You didn’t care as long as he was there with you, to hold you close, kiss you sloppy, and fuck you like he hates you. 
Nothing mattered as long as you had him. 
Lips over your earlobe, you drip more right on his shaft between your legs. Pulse drums right over the skin where he touches you, teases you, like it’s all your body is waiting for. 
‘‘As you wished, now I will fuck you, darling.’’ teeth licking the skin with a faint press, his fingers go down to adjust himself. He fixes his bulge between the pink lips, not entering but it’s enough for him to rub his dick with what you were leaking, wetting himself to ease the act. 
But after every slow grind, your insides clenches with anticipation, waiting for the damaging push and the frustration grows more and more as you wiggle in his hold. It’s not a surprise how delirious you are just from not having him inside, as the need always wins with its whole glory over every other sense you have. Leaving you completely brainless when things come to the point where you are so desperate to have him in you that you would go on your knees and beg your lungs out for it. Of course, the sex is good, but with Namjoon it’s never only because of it. It’s the way you feel complete, leaving the worries behind and letting yourself completely at his hands. It’s always much better when you have nothing to decide because Namjoon will do that for you, like you couldn’t handle it, like your mind was too useless that he has to deal with everything, and will bring unbelievably severe pleasure with that- 
A sudden pull of his arms tears you away from your thinking. Your back hits his chest, hands settling on your hips as he starts to move further. Filling you full with one move, steady and unrushed. It takes him a couple minutes to fill you wholly as the length meets with your clenching walls inches and inches deeper. 
With every inch, he stretches you more, moans spilling as a mantra by your lips mixed with thank’s and broken Namjoon’s. Eyes rolled back, your heart goes insane in it’s cage, as the feeling of being finally full is the best thing that happens to you, tears of happiness go down one by one. 
Every nerve goes into a very brief shock after meeting with him, muscles strains and eases for a couple of times before he stops fully deep in you. 
‘‘Fuck! You feel so good, so soft, baby.’’ Namjoon hisses, waits only to feel you clenching and unclenching around him. Gives you a minute for you to adjust his length, not wanting to hurt you more than you need. Yet, you barely have a limit for that shit. Like a parrot who doesn’t know what to say other than ‘more’, you always end up repeating it. 
Without spending more time, when he convinces himself that you are ready and on edge from waiting as you cry nonstop for him to move, have his way with you, he does. A long, impelling push steals the breath you had in your lungs, pulling a croaked moan as he doubles his move. Slow rhythm of his stomach meeting with the swell of your ass, the sound of your soaked pussy reacting every push with a desperate squelch, you shut your eyes. 
Nails digging in your skin, it won’t take long for him to fasten. Unrushed grindings turn into famished jams as he shoves himself deep. Burning breath right behind your neck, he sucks the skin until it blooms red from the torment of his teeth, licks the throbbing flesh but not with intention to soothe. 
‘‘Look at you in the mirror, pet.’’ behind his clenched teeth, he commands. ‘‘See how spent...you... look. Just like a dirty cockslut you are,’’ every word coming after a rough pound, they are also as remorseless as his movements. Not giving you a minute to actually look at your reflection, and as much as you see, drool dripping by your lips, makeup ruined by tears, body all red and tormented, you really do look spent. Feel also as your limbs are still lazy after the first orgasm you had. But the rude push only excites you more, delicious high builds once more as every nerve wracking slam gets you wetter. 
Then, his hands leave your hips. One of them finds your throat, the other goes over your mouth, fingers dipping inside without permission. ‘‘Suck.’’ is all he says, harsh and demanding. And you do. 
Tongue curling around the two thick digits as it was his dick instead. Lips sucks hard while you circling your starved muscles around them. More you suck it, lapping your tongue around it, you drool more. Wet patch goes all over your chest from your throat, passing his hand around it. His pace not coming down even for a bit, digits leave your mouth and find your swollen nipple. 
Damp wrap brings chill over your torso, he pinches the poor skin as harsh as his slams. You howl, wiggle in his hold but he stops you with one wild squeeze on your throat. Cutting your breath as he continues assaulting your walls. 
‘‘This is what you’ve been waiting for the whole night, right pet?’’ you try to look at his face but all you see is a blurry sight as the tears won’t let more from that. Though, you are still able to see the way he moves fast. Fast and brutal. The sound of skin hitting skin smacks on the walls, deafens you. ‘‘Hanging around my cock because that’s the only thing you are good at. Being fucked by me, until you stand boneless, brainless, hm?’’ 
You open your mouth to give him an answer but fingers tightening around the darkening skin, only a strangled grunt leaves the lips. 
‘‘Sorry, couldn’t hear it.’’ he says with a wicked smile, biting his bottom lip as he quickens his moves. Hand only loosens when your face turns purple and coughs follow one another. When he lets you breathe, you cough even more as the air burns acidic in your lungs. His fingers pinching, pulling the aching nipples, hand heavy around your throat has you on alert, slams getting more and more deep, angled hitting right on the soft pooled nerves. You found yourself on the edge of another maddening rhapsody. 
Thighs trembling furiously, you try to close your palms mindlessly, clenching your walls around him as he growls low. 
‘‘’M gonna c-cum… S-shit, I-’’ 
Throat trapped in his palm once again, his fingers finds your swollen clit, his impale focused on your sweet spot, he pinches your clit, ‘‘Then cum. Drip all over my cock, slut.’’ he says, pushing you from the edge of the luscious high. 
And you find yourself thrashing, tears filling your mouth, yes, yes, yes’s irritating your own ears as the seventh heaven welcomes you from it’s door. It takes long for you to come from your high as Namjoon continues his brutal actions. Cutting your breath, fucking you merciless, biting down every spot he finds available. Your nerves locked, mind foggy and body tender to any kind of interaction, with three deep, hurtful smack after Namjoon spills white. 
Grunts by his lungs, he fucks his cum into you. Until overstimulation feels too much for himself, he doesn’t mind how loud you cry for him to stop. Because now, everything is beyond feeling sensitive. Every poke of his dick just puts hundred needles on your skin, as you hiccup, saying it’s too much. 
Then with one light smack, he stops. Panthing behind, he stays inside of you, arms covering your body tight in an affectionate embrace. He kisses your neck, down your shoulders, over every mark he left by biting. And with every contact, your body reacts to it by shaking in his hold. Mouth lull, mind too dizzy to voice anything, he grabs your chin to turn your head. 
A soft smile is all you can see behind your tears as he leans to capture your lips in his, ‘‘Happy Valentine’s, my sweet Moonlight.’’ then he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. Tongues curl around one another, drool mixing, lips smacking repeatedly, you whimper as the sensation comes too much. 
After a rough fuck, your mind - and of course your body - finds this affection bizarre and reacts by melting under it. And it goes so long that his lips never leave yours while he sets you free from the hook, torso still tied by the rope but now you sit on his lap, losing yourself into a rousing kiss session. His fingers go up and down on your stomach, sometimes lingers around your nipples to hitch your breath. And it goes on like this until you two burn with need once again. Hard and ready for another all-consuming bliss as he helps you to ride him. 
Holds you by the waist, circles your hips on him as his head rests on the pillow. 
‘‘H-harder. Master please, I need m-more…’’ sobs won’t let you talk more, Namjoon smirks at that. Fingers grabbing you tighter, as he holds you high. 
‘‘Can’t even talk but still cries for more. Tch, always starving for Master’s cock.’’ 
Answering him by nodding, he won’t wait long to fuck you ruthless. Bouncing you on his cock, you mewl, mewl and mewl until he changes the positions to push himself deeper in you. Knees hitting your shoulder, he goes so deep that your eyes roll back until he stops his movements. Your cunt clenched around him to hold him inside, it has him coming thick and lot. Brushing his finger around your clit, rubbing and pulling the wasted bud, you come around him before he goes soft. Panting loud, desperate as everything feels too much, too strong, too surreal. 
So, when Namjoon finally lays beside you, hand patting your hair while he adjusts his breathing, you try to stop crying. 
‘‘Are you okay, baby girl?’’ he asks, a kiss to your temple. Freeing your face from your tears, you see the concern buried deep in his eyes. ‘‘Let me untie you, okay?’’ 
Nodding, you let him pull you on your ass. ‘‘I’m okay… It was just intense.’’ smile wandering on your lips, you continued. ‘‘And amazing. Don’t worry okay? I really do love when you go harsh on me. It was… fascinating.’’ 
Namjoon laughs at your face, all flushed and dreamy like you were still in the heat of your sex. Setting you free from the last knot, he kisses every mark that rope left behind, helps you to move your muscles, clench and unclench your palms to fasten your blood circulation. 
‘‘It’s like you want me to tie you like this all the time, love.’’ Namjoon cocks his brow high, as the smile still lingers on your mouth. 
‘‘Would you?’’ answer coming so fast and full of hope, he has to laugh at your eagerness. You, indeed, would love him to hang you from your ceiling all the time. As you said to him, it was intense, mind-blowing, and you did like it so much. 
Shaking his head, he laughs once again. ‘‘You need to eat some sugar, then we can talk about… this. Okay?’’ he points the hook, you nod at him with a pout on your lips, But he leans and kisses it, massaging your arms. Then he stops abruptly, eyes go wide. 
‘‘Shit. I forgot to water my plants.’’ he then jumps from the bed and rushes to the corner where he kept his plants. 
Rolling your eyes, you let yourself fall on to bed. ‘‘Of course you did.’’ you mumble, watching your boyfriend spraying water at his plants, humming to himself with a heart melting smile tugged on his face. Duality causes you to giggle on your own. There the man who made you choke on your spit moments ago, now with all the care he has, he waters his plants. All naked, and happy. 
Tiny jealousy in your heart, you close your eyes to listen to him humming a song that comes familiar but you are so tired that you can’t find the name. Stretching your arms with all the power you had, as Namjoon talks to his plants with a soft voice. 
‘‘I know it took so long…’’
‘‘Look how grown you are…’’
‘‘Oh, guess we need to change your place, huh?’’ 
You sigh deep, a tiny giddy sense blooms in your chest while your boyfriend’s voice licks behind your ears. A warm smile grows on your face, you think,
Happy Valentine’s, indeed. 
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jimlingss · 4 years
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Sugar and Coffee [3]
Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 3.5 OR Chapter 4
➜ Words: 3.5k
➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU
➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.
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Jungkook didn’t know this is how his night would turn out.   The cold night air bites at his skin, turning his cheeks rosy. His finger presses the button and there’s clinking and clanking before the aluminum can comes rolling at the bottom slot of the vending machine. He takes it from the slot and walks over to the wooden bench.   “Here.”   You’re sniffling, your entire body jolting as you do so. You take the cold grape soda with both hands, and hold it in your lap. He hopes you like it — he saw you drinking grape soda once back in high school.   Slowly, Jungkook takes a seat beside you. It’s terribly awkward for him, and he’s not sure what to do. The sounds of your sniffling shatters the silence of the night.   “You know….” He clears his throat. “People always break up with their first girlfriends or boyfriends.” Jungkook steals a glance at you. Tears are still slipping from your tear ducts, shedding down the apples of your cheeks. “And, uh, first loves don’t usually last. Even if it did, the divorce rate is pretty high, so, um, uh...yeah.”   Your sniveling is violent as if you’re trying hard to keep it at bay. He scratches the back of his neck, mind scrambling for ways to comfort you.   “You either get married or break up, so I guess he didn’t see you as the marriage type.” It’s the shittiest advice ever. Jungkook is at least self-aware enough to know just how bad his attempt at consoling you is, but it tumbles out of his mouth anyway with the half of the brain cell he has left. “You guys weren’t that great of a couple anyways—”   You burst out crying. Again.    This time the sobbing is louder, harder. Uncontrollable. It makes Jungkook look in all directions to make sure no one’s here lest they call the police and accuse him of harming you somehow.   “I...I love him!” you manage to say past your sobs, voice breaking in the process. It’s heart wrenching, though nothing but the truth. In this second, you’re so utterly vulnerable that it makes him entirely uncomfortable. “I l-love Jin. S-s...so m-much.”   You’re shaking with gut-wrenching sobs. Grief pours out in a flood and salt water creeps from your eyes. You whimper, “I thou—ght I was going to m-marry him, J-J-Jungkook.” The boy beside you doesn’t like the way you call his name, how you’re crying when you say it, how you’re blubbering. “Next month was supposed—….supposed to be our...two year anniversary.”   Jungkook has the urge to wipe off the flour stain on your forehead. But as he contemplates if he should or shouldn’t, he loses his opportunity. You tilt your chin to look at the sky, stain out of way as tears spring free down your cheeks.    You sniffle, “I really, r-really love him.”   Jungkook leans in.    He wraps his arms around your shoulders. He pulls you in close and hugs you tight. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but this is probably the least he can do. What his intuition tells him to do.    He feels you tremble against him until you stop. “W-what are you doing?”   “Umm…”   “Get off of me,” you spit at him half-heartedly and he lets go as if he’s burning you.   You’re back to sobbing again.   Jungkook is at a complete loss.   You were better as a bitch or at least easier to handle. It’s horrifying when you’re crying.
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The cake burns in the oven. Jungkook can see the smoke curling into the air. He can smell it as it singes off his nose hairs. And he takes it out with mitts, coughing and wheezing, throwing the charcoaled tray on the kitchen counter. He turns to the person responsible.   “Were you not watching it?!”   “Fuck you, Johnson.”   “Why didn’t you set a timer?!”   “Why didn’t you?!”   “Because I wasn’t the one who put it into the oven!” He shouts, “Are you an idiot?!”   You’re looking at him what that infamous frown — those lopsided lips, that knot between your brows that makes your anger tangible. He watches the way you open your mouth to retort...but the hesitation is visible. And in shock, he then watches the way your expression crumples.   His gut feeling tells him this isn’t right. He steps back. But then it happens.   You start to cry — Jungkook freezes, eyes as big as saucers.   Your head knocks forward, tears drip to the floor. You’re so small. He’s never seen you like this before. Jungkook’s never seen you so vulnerable before.   “H-Hey, Y/N. C’mon….”   His hands come out, but they don’t touch you. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to make it stop. He is powerless.   “I’m sorr—”   Jungkook’s entire body jolts. His eyes rip open into the night. He’s woken up in a pool of his own cold sweat. Oh god. Thank fucking christ it was only a nightmare — he’s still traumatized for life.   The boy sighs, running a hand over his face and through the damp strands of his hair. He twists and turns, trying to return back to sleep, but he’s unable to. Eventually, his hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand.   5:42 am. Jungkook: hey 5:42 am. Jungkook: u ok??? 5:58 am. Jungkook: so when should we meet up for napoleon again   Hours later, it says you’ve seen the message, but you never answer him. You leave him on read.
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It’s been a few days — how many, you’re not so sure.   You’ve been binging on ice cream and fudge brownies. The area near your mouth is stained with chocolate and crumbles of the treats. You haven’t showered in a while, or got up for that matter. It just feels better when you can pull the covers over your head and go through pictures of you and Seokjin on your phone.   Photographs of ice-cream dates, that time you went to an amusement park together, your high school graduation, the fairy lights you saw on Christmas, the beach during summer break, the movies during Spring break….   All of them. You look through all the pictures, from the blurry ones of him holding you close to the ones where you’re pouting as he leans down to plant a kiss on your cheek. You miss Jin so much it hurts and you always end up crying again when you play back the videos — sobbing underneath the lump on your mattress.   You’re glad you don’t have a roommate who can hear you crying day and night.   You remember the first time he asked you out, the first time he held your hand, the first time you kissed. It’s all fresh on the forefront of your mind, and you’re left wondering what you did wrong, where things took a turn and you didn’t even notice.   And you lay like that until you can’t cry anymore, until there’s no more pictures to see for the tenth time, until you reach the end of your years of text messages going back and forth. That’s when you see Jungkook’s text and you’re reminded that you can’t just lie around.   You need to get up, go to school. You paid a lot for it and you have midterms — you can’t leave him waiting.   Having no one to turn to, you dial his number.    It rings thrice before it picks up.   “Hello? Y/N?”   “Hey.” You can’t recognize your own voice. It’s thick and crackly, making you wince. “Sorry. I...called.”   “No, it’s okay. It’s okay, trust me. Um, are you, uh, alright?”   “I don’t know,” you answer honestly and peel back the covers just a bit. “I just wanted to let you know, I still remember the midterm, so…”   “Yeah, I know, t-take all the time you need.”   “Okay.” It goes silent. “That’s it. I should go now.”   “Right. I should probably go too. Take care of yourself.”   The call ends.   At least you still have a reason to get up.   //   Even if your mind is slowly preparing itself but your body isn’t, you have to eventually lug yourself up anyhow to get food when your supply of brownies and ice-cream runs out.   It’s a miracle how you can just go on autopilot — that you can walk to the dining hall while brain dead, that you can go forward when your bones and muscles are numb to movement.   You grab a tray and haphazardly scoop a ladle full of soup into your bowl. But when you turn away to find a seat, you come face to face with the worst of it, having forgotten this would happen.   You catch sight of Moonbyul and Sandeul at a table, but there’s no way you can approach them. They’re not your friends. Not anymore. All of your friends were Jin’s friends. He introduced you to them — and they know him better and longer than they know you. It is undoubtable that they would choose him.   You’ve lost everything.   You have no one.   Your hand tightens on the edge of the tray, looking for an empty table, searching for a spot where you can sit and quickly eat. Then you suddenly hear a call of your name—   “Y/N!”   Turning around, you discover Jungkook standing up from the cafeteria bench with his arm raised in the air. You approach hesitantly in five strides.   “Hey….”   All his friends are staring at you. One that you recognize as Jimin, another as Taehyung, one that has sharp features and striking looks and the other sleepy with cat-like eyes. “Ummm…”   “You can sit here.” Jungkook moves his friends’ trays out of the way, gesturing for them to scoot over. They look at him like they’ve gone crazy.   “T-Thanks…” You take him up on the offer, not wanting to reject him and make it more awkward.   They continue to gawk at you, and Jungkook has that sympathetic gaze of his. You know you look like a mess — you haven’t run a brush through your hair, the underneath of your eyes are red from rubbing, your nose is dripping, and your spoon trembles as you bring the soup up to your lips for a sip.    “Uh, this is Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok.”   “Nice to meet you,” you croak after clearing your throat.   “We’re in introductory cakes and decorating techniques together,” Taehyung chirps with a grin.   “Yeah, I know.” You try to smile and look over at Jimin. “And we’re in fine pastries together, right?”   Jimin nods, not uttering a single word. The awkwardness is tangible.   The man named Yoongi sucks up his soda noisily and then pops his lips off his straw. “Is your boyfriend not here toda—ow! What the fuck, dude.”   Jungkook’s doe eyes look back at his friend’s. “What.”   “Don’t play dumb, you just stepped on my damn foot—”   “Hey, is that all you’re eating?” Jungkook points his fork at your meager bowl of soup. Then he moves a bowl of fruit from his tray to yours. “Eat this. You like fruit, right? It’s good for you.”   You stare at it and pierce the strawberry to chew it in your cheek. Jungkook smiles when you move the honeydew off the bowl onto his plate. He eats it. “So when do you want to meet up again?”   “Tomorrow.”   “Okay, sounds good.”   Eventually, you finish your meal and mumble something about having to go to your locker. You bid them farewell and Jungkook waves with a brightened smile.   All five of them watch your backside becoming smaller. Then once you’ve disappeared, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung turn to Jungkook and wait for an explanation.   He looks back at them. “What?”   “Don’t ‘what’ us. The fuck was that.”   “Since when did you become buddies with Y/N?” Yoongi inquires, curious as well to the sudden change that almost gave him whiplash from sheer shock.   “Okay, first off, we’re not buddies. She’s just going through some shit, so I’m trying to be a decent human being.” They continue to eye him and Jungkook sighs, putting down his utensil. “Jin dumped her.”   “Oh shit.” Hoseok exchanges a look with Jimin.   Taehyung’s jaw is slack. “Damn, that makes a lot more sense.”   “Yeah, so don’t talk about him, dumbass,” Jungkook says pointedly to Yoongi.   “Hey, I didn’t know! Don’t put the blame on me.”   Hoseok asks, “When did it happen?”   “I don’t know, like a few days ago.” The dark-haired man leaves out the part where you were crying. They don’t really need to know that detail and he has no plans of making a spectacle out of you.   Taehyung leans in closer, too nosy for his own good. “Why?”   “How the hell would I know? Ask if you want to know that badly.”   “Nah, it’s no wonder though. She looks pretty bad.”   Jungkook muses the same and he can only hope you’re holding up well — if not for your own sake then for the sake of the midterm.   //   Another day comes and goes, a sunfall and sunrise, and you find yourself knocking at Jungkook’s door.   You didn’t know the weekend was so long. It feels long when you have no one to see, no one with you, nothing to do. Even after a full week has passed, you don’t feel better or close to it, but you know logically it’s better to get up and at least do something productive. You have some self awareness to know that rotting in your bed would be a pathetic way to die.   The door swings open.   The boy’s eyes are rounded. It occurs to you that you never realized just how brown his eyes are. “What are you doing here?”   “I...thought we could meet up early. I don’t really have anything to do, so…”   “How’d you know this is my room?” Jungkook peeks down the hall as if he could catch the person who exposed him like this, but there’s no one.   “I asked the front.”   “Oh.”   “Can I….”   “Sure.” Jungkook widens the door without thinking of the consequences and you step in.    It looks like a tornado took a turn here. His belongings are scattered and in disarray, clothing hanging off the back of his chair and dumped on the floor like there was a Black Friday sale.    Jungkook follows your line of sight and laughs stiffly. He picks up his briefs by your foot. “I’m usually not this messy, I swear. I’ve just been too busy to clean—”   The man pales and jumps on his bed when he notices what you’re staring at. He tries to cover up his IU posters with his hands and his body, but to no avail.    “These aren’t mine! They’re just up temporary cause, they were, um, gifts from my mom. I was a fan of her back in the day! But not anymore! Don’t make fun of me…”   The entirety of his wall above his bed is posters of IU from back in her debut days to her most recent comeback. He has a shelf of all her albums lined up in a row with her official lightstick too. They don’t seem dusty at all.   You take your eyes off of them, not uttering a single comment.   Jungkook realizes you’re not going to tease him and gets off his bed awkwardly. He continues to pick up after himself, throwing his used clothes in the laundry basket. His eyes flicker up to you.   “Wow, not even trying anymore, huh?” he jests, trying to lighten the mood. “Your outfit’s ugly.”   You look down, self-consciously tugging on the hem of your oversized sweater. It’s a taupe hoodie that goes to your knees. “It’s Seokjin’s.”   “O-oh. I, uh, mean you smell bad.” Jungkook laughs by himself and grabs his Febreze off his nightstand. He sprays the expanse of your body. It smells like fresh linen.   He stops after five seconds when it occurs to him you’re standing motionlessly — when it hits him that you’re not going to smack the head of his side like he expected you to.   Jungkook puts the Febreze back on the table and clears his throat. “I’ll be ready in two minutes.”   You’re freaking him the hell out. No matter how much Jungkook tries to banter with you or pick an argument, you remain quiet.   //   Even if you’ve gone mute, your baking abilities are luckily still intact.   Jungkook works quietly alongside you and helps you assemble the cake. After two strenuous hours, the product is put in front of the two of you. At first glance, the presentation is acceptable, but taste is another thing.   He cuts into the cake and eats. You wait patiently for his reaction. Jungkook’s brows wrinkle.   “Ugh, god.” He sets his fork down. “It’s so bitter.”   Your cakes are usually too sweet that it hurts his teeth — now it’s not sweet enough.   “Did you add any sugar?”   “You kept complaining I add too much,” you murmur dejectedly.   “Yeah, but you have to add some, Y/N. It’s not enough now. Here. Taste it. It’s disgusting.”   He gives you a tasting fork and you take a bite. After a thoughtful chew and swallow, you look at him impassively and shrug. “Tastes fine to me.”   “What?” Afraid he’s gone absolutely crazy, Jungkook takes another big bite. This time, his entire mouth dries and his tongue shrivels. It’s bad enough that he hisses, “It’s bitter.”   “I can’t taste it,” you mutter apologetically, eyes on the floor. “I think it’s because my nose is plugged.”   “How are you supposed to bake if you can’t taste?”    Jungkook sighs in frustration.   All your efforts for the past two hours have gone down the drain. You’ll have to start again, making it once more. But—    “What’s the point?” you ask him, shoulders slumped and your entire form drooping in on itself.    “What?”   “What’s the point?” you whisper to Jungkook. “We either do well or we fail, but it’s not like it’ll matter. We’ll still pass the class and we’ll move on. And we’ll graduate and work, and then die a few years from now. It’s not like this’ll significantly change our lives. What’s the point if we make it well or not. What’s the point of worrying about it.”   Jungkook is utterly mortified at your sudden despair. “Don’t you want to do well?”   You shrug.   He doesn’t know who this is — who you are — what you’ve become. This isn’t the Y/N that he knows.   “Can you stop moping?”   Silence.   “You’re not helping yourself by being miserable,” Jungkook says sharply. It pisses him off that you’re so pathetic, that all it took for you to become so small was a mere breakup. He can’t fathom that his rival has been reduced to this. “There’s worse things out there. It’s not like you’re dying.”   It remains quiet.    He doesn’t know what he has to do to squeeze some kind of living response from you.   “You’re alive and you’re still here. How much longer are you going to be like this? We have things to do!” Jungkook shouts, throwing his fork into the sink overflowing with dishes and bowls he has to wash as a result of your blunder. And it still seems like you don’t care. “I don’t get why you’re so sad. Jin isn’t even that great. He dumped you. So what? You move on! You get over it!”   You sniffle.    It snaps him back. Jungkook comes crashing down to reality. He watches the way you put your hands to your face and he realizes you’re crying again while nodding. God. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that, for him to sound like such an asshole.   “I’m...sorry,” you whimper, words muffled behind your hands. “I just...I’m t-trying.”   He sighs for the nth time. Guilt overwhelms him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”   Jungkook gently tugs on your strand of hair that falls in front of your face. His voice softens. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”   You nod, wiping your eyes away with your hand. “I just r-really want to go home and pull the covers over my head and pretend it never happened.”   “I know.” He really doesn’t.   Part of him still doesn’t understand. Jungkook can’t comprehend what was so great about Kim Seokjin that has you so devastated, but he tries his best to empathize. “But we can’t do that, can we? We just gotta...keep going. And it won’t be too hard cause it’s not like you have to do this on your own, right? Cause I’m here…..and you’re here, and all…”   He’s bumbling, tripping over his own tongue and cringing over his poor attempt at comforting you. But you look up at him with glossy eyes and he lets go of your hair.    With no one else to turn to and no one that you can confide in, you manage a small nod. You choose to believe him.
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kimnjss · 4 years
Text
doitagain!yoongi | a-z
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⤑  series: do it again
⤑ genre: smut, rapper!yoongi x model!reader, idol au
⤑ rating: explicit. // nd unedited.
⤑ warnings: smut talk... (mentions of) oral sex (f/m. receiving), penetrative sex, cumplay, masturbation, degradation kink, edging... c
⤑ A/N: im still a wh0r3 for do it again min yoongi and nope , i don’t want to do a thing about ittt , thank you very much xox .
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A = Aftercare (what's he like after sex):
Even if you try to act like you're not, Yoongi knows that you're very particular with how you're treated after sex. Especially considering, he was the least bit gentle when fucking you, it was like you needed that reminder that he didn't mean the degrading words you loved to hear him mumble during. It didn't take long for him to recognize that you enjoyed taking a bath right after and in realizing this, he was always hoping out of bed without out a word to draw you one.
B = Body Part (his favorite body part of his and also yours):
Let's be real, Yoongi is not one to beat around the bush when it comes to you. Although, he liked every part of you from the tips of your fingers to the soles of your feet... it was obvious that his favorite part would be your pussy. From the way you taste to the way it squeezed around him, he could spend hours playing with you and not get bored.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically...):
You didn't really like the taste of cum that much, would still swallow if he finished in your mouth but preferred not to... Yoongi, knowing this, would always opt to paint your breasts with his cum instead. He also really liked the way your tits glistened with his arousal after.
D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his):
No matter how indifferent he acted when you did it, Yoongi really... like really liked when you said 'I love you' during sex. He loved to hear it in general, but while he was buried inside of you, making you whine and squirm... and he hears the breathless words leave your lips, it drives him crazy.
E = Experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?):
Yoongi is definitely experienced, but only when it comes to you. He knows what you like and how to get you right to the edge. You've been together for so long, so he was able to take the time to get to know your body it was basically second nature at this point.
F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying...):
Your studio visits are at the top of Yoongi's list, especially because they always seemed to end with you on his lap while he worked. It was his favorite to have you bouncing on his cock, while he lazily played with your clit – trying his hardest to keep his focus on the tracks he's supposed to be mixing.
G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc.):
Yoongi is not serious, but wouldn't be as far as goofy. He's just comfortable around you and since you two have a few years under your belt – there is a sort of familiarity that comes with it, so the need to be serious or overly cautious takes the door.
H = Hair (how well-groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes? how does he like you?):
As long as you're not complaining he doesn't care. Can't be bothered to keep up with it and sometimes lets the hair grow out wildly. He always keeps it clean and will be quick to get it trimmed if you were to make the slightest comment about it. As for you, he had no preference. Would compliment your clean shave, because he knew you'd appreciate it but wouldn't care either way.
I = Intimacy (how is he in the moment, romantic aspect...):
No room for romance. Tied in with his difficulty to freely announce his love for you, Yoongi wasn't a real big fan of the mushy romance that most guys displayed for their girlfriends. He did, though, make up for it with sweet things (i.e, always running a bath for you after sex).
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):
Yoongi hates, absolutely hates, having to jerk off. Thinks its an unnecessary hassle that he'd rather just wait for you to do. The only time he'd be alright about it, if you were in the same room doing it too – with the promise of some one on one time right after.
K = Kink (one ore more of his kinks):
Biting. Spit. Face Sitting. Yoongi was always leaving bites on your neck, chest, collarbones, a nibble hear and there when he was eating you out. He liked the sound of your squeals at the feeling of his teeth sinking in and found the look of a love bite darkening your skin cute.
He likes it sloppy, when you're going down on him... when you're making out. When he's eating you out. It turns you on too, he can tell which has a lot to do with why he likes it so much. The way your eyes darken whenever he's getting ready to spit in your mouth has his cock twitching without a beat.
Just as much as Yoongi liked eating you out, he liked it more when you were sat on his face while he did it. A different feeling when you were grinding your heat down onto his tongue, his arms looped around his thighs. Plus, more often then not, you were falling forward to suck him off in the process.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do):
His studio. Most of his time was spent there anyway, and although, he was trying to get better at balancing his time and being more attentive with you... a lot of your dates were spent in the studio. Yoongi asked you many times if it bothered you and for the most part, you didn't seem upset about it. He never hesitated to take a break, though... taking you on the couch or in his studio chair...
M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going):
The sound of your voice. Now, Yoongi wasn't popping boners each time you opened your mouth to speak. But because you were hardly that vocal when it came to fucking, he was always noticing when you were more... expressive than normal. That automatically translates to him doing a good job, which egged him on well.
N = NO (something he wouldn't do, turn offs):
Threesomes. He is not into sharing you and won't even consider it for a second. Whether it was with a girl or a guy, it's a big NO.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):
Giving. Although, Yoongi didn't mind if you were to suck him off – he didn't really need it as much as he needed to be between your legs. More often than not, he was waking you up with his tongue or stopping work just to have a taste of you... that was enough for him.
P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.):
Fast and rough unless he's tired... but even still it's hardly ever sensual. You like the way he rag dolls you, so he's never hesitating to let himself loose and do just that.
Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often... etc.):
Quickies are definitely a necessity for the two of you. Because his schedule is so jam packed and you're getting so much more recognition with your modeling, the two of you don't really have that much time to just be any more. Which meant when you see each other is really the only time that you guys have to be together... that didn't leave much time for romance.
R = Risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks):
Yoongi doesn't really care for taking risks, when it came to your sex life. There would be times where you'd fool around a bit in public... but nothing too serious that it could be considered risky. At the same time, though, he's so whipped for you that if you were suggesting something like that – he couldn't see himself refusing. S = Stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last...):
Two or three rounds would be his limit, long breaks in between but all in the same night. He can last for a while, since most of the focus was on you while fucking. Yoongi liked to get you off a least twice before he even began worrying about himself. T = Toy (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?):
No toys. They're useless in his eyes. If you felt like you needed one, he'd just clear his schedule and do it himself.
U = Unfair (how much does he like to tease?):
Yoongi loves to tease you, but hardly in the bedroom. It's more so during the day when you were just out and about. He'd do little things that he knew would turn you on, or let his hands linger a bit too long, kiss you a little bit sloppier. Knowing that you'd be begging to go home so he can do all those things properly. V = Volume (how loud is he, what sounds does he make?):
Not so loud, but very vocal. Yoongi likes to tell you all the dirty things he has in store for you (always delivering), enjoying your reaction to the crude things he says to you. Praise is a big thing for him, because things often get intense between the two of you – he's always telling you how good you've been. W = Wild Card
In the event the two of you can't see each other for a long time. Either you're traveling for work or he is doing shows out of time... he would call you at night where you two would have FaceTime sex. Most times he'd just watch you get yourself off, but he'd be joining in if he was real turned on.
X = X-Ray (let's see what's going on in those pants, pictures or words):
Long and veiny. A little bit on the thicker side with balls a bit big. They're sensitive too, and he likes it a lot when you include during blowjobs.
Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?):
Very high. Everything you do is sexy to him and is down to fuck whenever you wanted. Even if he was exhausted, he'd still muster up all the energy he could to pull at least two rounds before he's falling asleep.
Z = Zzz... (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?):
Yoongi tends to fall asleep rather quickly after you've fucked. Especially if he joins you in the bath, he might fall asleep in the tub or the moment you're exiting and laying down together.
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ve1vetyoongi · 5 years
Text
Mic Drop | myg
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pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: smut, angst, fluff
au: rapper!yoongi, photographer!oc
summary: when underground rapper min yoongi uncovers the dirty secret behind his biggest rival, your brother and hip hop champion kim namjoon’s success, he is determined to take home this year’s mic drop contest trophy no matter who he hurts along the way. you’re behind the camera, content with capturing namjoon’s picture perfect persona from the sidelines but when his hard-faced enemy Gloss, makes you realise you could be more than just the point and shoot, you start to feel your loyalties shifting.
warnings: multiple smut scenes, dirty talk, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), lots of orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, cum play, cum eating, but also tender fucking lol, very brief mention of death.
word count: 29k (rip)
rating: definitely explicit
playlist: visit my playlist page and select “mic drop.” (all links to be added later)
a/n: ahhh you don’t understand how happy i am to finally put this out into the world!!! i started writing this fic back in july and after a few rewrites (more on this at the end of the post if anyone sticks around until then) she’s finally finished eee <3 also!!! this fic is brought to you courtesy of the love yourself collab! this project has been super fun to be a part of n i wanna say thank you to everyone involved who made it such a welcoming experience! you can check out the masterlist here (link will be added later f u tumblr) to read all the other amazing fics from the incredibly talented authors in this project (literally so talented??? it’s sickening???) (im so excited to finally read them all now im done w this monster lol). all the love as always <3
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Introducing Runch Randa!
The host is barely audible over the chants of your brother's name as the lights dim and the arena is sent into a haze of strobe lights.
The air is already heady with body heat and fragrant with sweat from the thousands of bodies smushed together in the pit and beyond that thousands more seated in the stands, phone lights twinkling in the darkened arena like stars. A girl in your peripheral clutches a sign with MARRY ME RUNCH RANDA scrawled in sharpie, torso clad in one of the cheap merch hoodies with your brother's face printed on the front, just like hundreds of others around her.
It's a full house. No one's surprised. The Mic Drop semi-final always creates a buzz of anticipation within the hip hop scene. But this year, with your brother Namjoon returning to compete for the trophy again, there isn't an empty seat in sight.
A buzz pulses through the crowd when the bass kicks in. It makes hearts beat faster, blood run hotter, a crescendo of screams crashing violently through room, the sheer volume enough to make the walls shake in time with the stamp of impatient feet.
It's infectious. Almost. If you hadn't been here a hundred times before, countless nights the same as this one that all started to blur into one somewhere along the line. Different crowds but the same energy, the same hum of anticipation that used to get your bones rattling, your skin hot with suspense. Now it's just routine. Now you feel nothing.
Besides, you're just here to do your job. The photographer. To take pictures, not to enjoy the show. Just like always.
Five seconds. You know Namjoon's set list like the back of your hand by now. Five seconds until he takes the stage and the crowd goes wild.
One, two, three, four...
Like clockwork, the stage lights up and there he is, face blown up in painful detail across every screen. Runch Randa. His stage name pulses through the room, a mantra, chanted until throats turn sore and mouths run dry.
Dark framed glasses cover his eyes but his stance is enough to tell you that he came here to win, his presence immediately filling the empty stage with an energy that makes it impossible to look anywhere else, even for a moment.
He is already damp with sweat, neck glistening beneath the white lights. Like routine you snap a few shots when he taunts the camera with a smirk, brushing a hand through his immaculately gelled hair teasingly, mouth turning up into a grin when the audience roars.
Runch Randa walks across the stage with the ease of someone who lives and breathes for moments like these. Grabs the microphone with two hands, shiny silver rings glinting on his fingers beneath the harsh strobe lights.
You can see his opponents in the front row, nothing but rookies, the intimidation etched into their features visible even from where you stand side stage as they swallow the bitter pill that they stand no chance against him.
Once upon a time you were the same as the wide eyed fans in the pit, filled with an admiration for your brother. He was everything you wanted to be; a whirlwind of fearless, brazen passion when he got up on stage. But things changed once Namjoon won Mic Drop, claiming the trophy at the tender age of seventeen. After that he started filling arenas. Then stadiums. And you were left behind in the ruins of his whirlwind, feeling the Namjoon you once knew slip further away as Runch Randa took center stage, viewing his perfect persona through the lens of your camera with the same sour resentment as the rookies.
Because when a familiar beat permeates the arena, you can't help but close your eyes and imagine the name the crowd screams is yours. That it's you out there instead of him. It's you pouring your heart into the lyrics that you find yourself whispering unconsciously in time with your brother.
Your lyrics.
The lyrics you wrote especially for this performance. The same lyrics that would be streamed by millions, top charts and win Namjoon another stupid trophy to add to his already elaborate collection.
The only reason Namjoon still kept you around was because he couldn't write them himself.
The track ends and the Mic Drop host crosses the stage with a grin. Namjoon's arm is thrust into the air triumphantly.
"And our first finalist is...Runch Randa!"
You snap a picture of your brother smiling victoriously.
"He's gonna win. I know it."
Namjoon's manager Jimin sidles up beside you, grin plastered to his face. It's nauseating.
"Does he ever lose?" You murmur
Runch Randa! Runch Randa! Runch Randa!
--
Mic Drop. The most highly anticipated event in the music industry for its ability to make hip hop artists stars; as well as its tendency to break them just as easily.
Fame. Money. Glory. Just a few of the reasons why rap rookies from across the globe are desperate to compete in the ruthless battle of blood, sweat and rap that is Mic Drop.
They all think they have what it takes. That they have that special something the judges are looking for. Unfortunately, most don't even make it past the auditions phase.
When your brother, Mic Drop legend Runch Randa, announced he would be ditching his celebrity status and stadium concerts to return to his underground roots and compete for the trophy again, it raised a series of questions
Why now? What did he have to prove?
Once the press got wind of the fact that your parent's, CEO'S of the most prestigious record label in the industry Big Hit Entertainment, had run into a spot of financial trouble, everyone assumed your brother's re-entry was a master plan to win the lavish cash prize afforded to competition winners. Sure, you couldn't deny that it was partly true --- Big Hit's stocks were plummeting and a lot was at stake.
Truthfully, though, you knew your brother well enough to see that Namjoon's motives were far more selfish; to put it simply, he was greedy. Fame was his drug. Once he got a taste he could never get enough.
Of course, a cheque signed and delivered by your father's hand shut any rumors down very quickly. Your parent's were good at silencing people if it meant protecting Namjoon's reputation.
Even you, their own daughter.
The name tag labelled OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHER was nothing but a cover up for the true reason you spent so much time at Big Hit -- writing each and every one of Namjoon's hit songs. A secret you were forced to keep as you watched your brother through a camera lens.
Which is how you find yourself as his strictly-invitation-only after party, an attempt at building momentum for the big final in just a few weeks time, with a camera in hand.
You're sat in the corner of the A-list club Jimin rented out for the event, swirling the deep red liquid in your glass with a bored disinterest as you watch your brother shake hands with company investors and big buck producers, most of which you'd never even heard of.
These things always seem to drag on, the clock ticking slower with each agonising second spent smiling courteously to uphold the supportive sister persona. Your feet are starting to hurt in your heels and all you want to do is hide away in the Big Hit studio and scribble down the lyrics floating aimlessly in your mind. That's the only good thing about these events -- they give you time to think, a rare relief in between your brother's busy schedules.
"Well, well. If it isn't my favorite lyricist."
A cheerful voice jolts you from your thoughts and when you blink up through the flashing lights you're met with a lazy grin belonging to Hoseok, one of the producers at Big Hit. He's an ex Mic Drop contestant himself, coming fourth and just missing out on the semi-finals three years ago. He never had the stomach for it anyway, he always says, but you never miss the rejection in his eyes.
Hoseok is also one of the only people who knows about your secret. He was hired to help you work on tracks for your brother once he made it big after all, and although he would never admit it you knew he probably had to sign a hefty NDA. Still, you were grateful to have him around — you couldn't deny you made something of a dream team together.
"Mind if I sit?" He gestures with his glass towards the empty space beside you, and you move your purse so he can squash in on the leather couch. "At least some of us are having fun, huh?" You follow his gaze to Namjoon on the dance floor, hands all over some vaguely recognizable celebrity's hips.
You grimace and swig back the remaining alcohol in your glass. "Too much fun, apparently."
Hoseok snorts, wringing his hands. "Y'know, we could get out of here if you're as bored as I am..." His words slur just slightly and you figure his confidence is a result of the amber liquor in his glass. The shy Hoseok  you know well returns quickly though as he averts his eyes when you raise a brow. "Not like that! I just thought maybe we could get a drink or something...if you want to?"
You shift awkwardly, having to shout over the booming club music for him to hear you. "I should really stay here. People might ask questions if the sister of the host just...disappears."
"Right!" Hoseok smiles sheepishly then slaps his own forehead. "Right. Forget I ever asked."
You shake your head fondly and turn back towards the dance floor just in time to see Namjoon whisper in the ear of the DJ, music cutting as he takes the mic and hops up onto the small stage to address the party.
Finally! A sign he was going to wrap up the evening for good!
He clears his throat and the huddle of mingling bodies below him fall into an expectant hush.
"Uh, so I'm not usually very good at these speech things --" He pauses and the crowd laughs. You tap your knee impatiently. "But I just wanted to say thank you. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your support. So, the next round of drinks are on me! I haven't won — yet — but its never too early to start celebrating, right?"
Namjoon raises his flute of champagne and the party-goers cheer just as a flurry of confetti drops from the ceiling. The music starts again and you're too busy picking the brightly colored paper out of your hair disgruntledly to notice the way the room suddenly quietens and the guests part down the middle like prey from a predator.
"Y/N. Look." Hoseok elbows you sharply and flies forward in his seat, whisky sloshing over the edge of his glass. "Shit! Is that--"
Is that really him? What is he doing here? He's back!
You look up just in time to see the commotion as a figure in a black hoodie weaves effortlessly to the front of the room. You don't recognise him but something about his presence gives you chills.
Namjoon is too busy throwing back his drink to notice as the man climbs the stage, his skinny jeans and high tops sticking out like a sore thumb against the sea of dress shoes and cocktail dresses. He clearly wasn't invited.
By the time your brother senses the change in the air, it's too late.
You feel your face pale, choking when the figure finally turns and lets down his hood, revealing a head of blue hair and a venomous smirk.
"Gloss?"
Namjoon turns and his smile dissolves. He just stares stiffly at the person in front of him like he's seen a ghost. In a way you suppose he has -- the ghost of his past. After all, the last time anyone saw this face was five years ago at the Mic Drop final.
It is him! It's Gloss! Why is he back?
The night that changed all of your lives. When Namjoon claimed the Mic Drop trophy and Gloss, his opponent, lost everything.
It's been years since the last time you saw Gloss but you still recognize the distinctive confidence in his gait, the way his eyes flash with something dark as he looks your brother up and down with a breathy laugh.
Namjoon is frozen, breathing heavily.
Gloss' voice is husky when he finally speaks. It makes you shiver.
"Runch Randa. Long time no see, huh?"
A beat of unbearable silence.
"What are you doing here?"
Gloss's chuckle makes Namjoon snarl. You see the way his jaw tenses and his fists clench. He's too wound up; he'll snap if you don't do something and fast.
You get to your feet but Hoseok pulls you back down sternly by the elbow. "Don't." You protest but his grip is too tight so you just fidget helplessly instead.
Something settles in the atmosphere; a nervousness that makes you itch, makes your heart pump into overdrive as you watch them draw closer, eyes narrowed like boxers in a ring, waiting for the other to make a move. Hoseok covers his eyes.
"I wouldn't start celebrating just yet, Runch. The competition has only just begun."
The crowd gasps when your brother's clenched fist swings at his smug opponent. The rapper ducks but not quite in time and you can't remember which comes first — the crunch that crackles through the speakers when Namjoon's ring-clad knuckles collide with Gloss' face or the ear splitting thump of his mic dropping to the ground.
--
The party ends abruptly. Your head spins with confusion as you watch the guests leave in shock. Seeing Namjoon up on that stage opposite his biggest opponent again makes your stomach sick, like you were reliving the events of five years ago all over again.
Deep down you had always expected this moment to come. For Gloss to return looking for revenge or something. After all, Gloss didn't just loose Mic Drop to anyone -- he lost to Namjoon, his former best friend and music partner. Namjoon and Yoongi. They were supposed to win together. But for reasons still unknown, even to you, Yoongi was disqualified moments before the final commenced, plummeting your brother into the world of fame alone.
After that, Gloss all but disappeared, his pitiful downfall nothing but a hip hop legend to those who heard it. No record deals or sponsorships or stadium tours like your brother. A legend in his own right, but for all the wrong reasons. Mic Drop banned duos from competing thereafter.
Eventually you gather the courage to head into one of the back rooms where the rappers had been hauled by security guards in hi-vis jackets after their scuffle. You can hear Jimin babbling before you even reach the door.
"What were you thinking? Punching him? You better hope the press don't get ahold of this or else you're in big trouble—"
"Let me go!" Namjoon grunts to Jimin whose face is almost as red as his own. "I'm gonna end this once and for all."
"You'll do no such thing," Jimin tuts, pushing him firmly by the shoulder so he slumps into his seat with a roll of the eyes, other hand pressing his phone to his ear. "Do you even understand the amount of damage control I'm going to have to do to? — hold on, yes, this is Park Jimin speaking..."
The room smells of disinfectant and medical gauze and you spot Namjoon instantly, surrounded by an abundance of medics. His breathing is still ragged, the vein on his neck standing to prominence, knee bouncing as he impatiently waits for his ruby knuckles to be bandaged, too engaged to notice your arrival.
To your left you're surprised to find Yoongi. He's the epitome of composure despite the heavy tension in the air. He grabs a roll of bandage and begins to patch up his own fist, eyes lighting up with something you can't put your finger on when you slide into the room.
"Well, look who decided to turn up. If it isn't Namjoon's little sister. Long time no see, Y/N."
You freeze. It's been years since you heard him say your name. It makes you feel funny.
"Yoongi." You swallow. "What are you doing here?"
His shit eating grin makes your blood boil. "I take it you haven't heard yet, then."
You roll your eyes. You should be checking on Namjoon not humoring whatever stupid motives his opponent has. "Heard what, Yoongi?"
"I'm re-entering the competition, too."
You stagger backwards. Yoongi? Re-entering the competition? Mic Drop?
"But--you were disqualified--I don't understand?"
"I was disqualified. Disqualifications are only valid for five years, according to the rule book. Who knew?" He smirks when your eyes widen. "And I think you'll find that my sentence is up. I'm gonna win this time, once and for all."
"I don't think you know what you're doing, Yoongi—"
"There's more." He licks his lips. "I know your secret."
Your heart stops, mouth running dry. You throw a glance over your shoulder. Namjoon is still engaged, swatting away a medic's ice pack with a scowl, thankfully too busy to notice when you draw closer, voice a harsh whisper. "W-what secret?"
Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle, wincing just barely when he touches a damp cloth to the cut in his lip, a red splotch forming on the fabric. "You know exactly what secret I'm talking about, Y/N. Wouldn't it be ironic if someone slipped a tip off to the judges panel about Namjoon's ghost writer—"
"Shut the fuck up Min Yoongi or I'll break your nose for real this time!" Namjoon's voice bellows behind you, making you jolt. He charges at Yoongi, lip quivering like he might make his threat a reality. "Leave her out of this!"
Yoongi's nostrils flare. "Everyone knows she's a part of this, Namjoon, whether she likes it or not!"
All eyes look your way, as if expecting you to say something, but Yoongi's words fall cluelessly on you. You hadn't so much as thought about him in years. What did you have to do with this stupid ongoing feud with your brother that he refused to let go?
You glance between them, settling for sending a blank look at Yoongi and shuffling over to Namjoon instead. Your brother seems prideful at your show of allegiance. Yoongi scoffs.
"Namjoon?" Your mouth is dry with the shock of the situation and it comes out sounding funny, like you're wary of him. A gash above his eyebrow starts to dribble crimson. "Shit, you're hurt..."
"Get off me." Namjoon shakes his shoulder violently and you gingerly remove your hand, brows furrowed at his rejection. He directs his attention to Yoongi. "And you. You want a fight? It's on."
"Joon!—" He waves you off. It's pointless anyway. When he gets this rash there's no changing his mind.
"You want to end this thing once and for all? Then let's do this. You and me. At the final."
Yoongi raises a brow. "Deal. I'd shake your hand but you might try and knock me into next week again."
Namjoon doesn't laugh.
A hoard of security guards bust into the room and head straight for Yoongi. "Finally. What the fuck do I even pay these people for?"
"Get off me!"
You place a hand on Namjoon's shoulder and find that he's trembling. Rage? Nerves? Adrenaline? All three, probably, if the vacant blackness behind his eyes is anything to go by.
You're already trailing behind your brother when you hear Yoongi's voice carry down the hall. "I'll see you at the final! When I win. Secrets always find a way to come back and bite you in the ass, Runch. You should know that better than anyone!"
--
Namjoon begs you to come as his plus one to some scummy gig Gloss is rumored to be performing at tonight. To check out the competition, he says, but you recognise the way he nibbles his lip as he does.
Fear. He'll never admit it but Namjoon is scared he’s going to lose.
You agree to join him because you think it may put his mind at rest.
As Namjoon's manager, Jimin has all sorts of connections, mumbling thank you's into the head set sitting around his ears like a permanent accessory and scribbling down the address of some club down town.
The driver your parent's hired to escort Namjoon around as a paparazzi safety precaution drops the three of you a block away; the car's black tinted windows and shiny number plate would be out of place in such a scummy part of town. The plan would only work if you went unnoticed. Namjoon couldn't risk running into a Runch Randa fangirl tonight. It was technically against the Mic Drop rules to have any intel on your opponents, after all.
You don't like to tell Namjoon that his disguise won't do much for blending in. He dons a designer cap pulled down low over his face, long black coat drowning his figure and expensive leather boots crunching against broken glass and cigarette stumps as you near the club. It's too put together to seem natural, a dead give away that he doesn't belong here among the sea of ripped jeans and septum rings and tattoo sleeves around you. Even with a patterned bandana covering half of his face, the sculpted cheekbones and piercing eyes smudged effortlessly with black eyeliner poking over the top scream celebrity.
Luckily for you, the plain dress and knit cardigan hugging your body doesn't alert the suspicions of the bouncers cross armed at the entrance.
Namjoon wrinkles his nose and prods a half empty solo cup discarded outside with his toe, Jimin practically jittering with nerves and barely avoiding a stumbling drunk as you approach the men who stand at nearly double your size. Namjoon said it was best that you acted as spokesperson tonight — the only reason he even brought you along was because nobody would know your face and your position at Big Hit allowed you to pull some strings.
Your fingers shake as you produce a photography license from your bag, heart pounding as one of the menacing bouncers raises his eyebrow beneath the deep red hue emanating from a tacky neon sign posted above the door.
Luckily the breath you're holding is leaving you in a relieved thank you as he nods, moves to the side and gestures for your entourage to dip inside with the rest of the crowd. Namjoon charges ahead into the darkness and you follow him with an awkward smile to make up for his rude demeanour.
No turning back now...
Music hits like a deafening wave, blasting from the speakers at a volume that makes the walls shiver and your head throb. The club is alive with reckless anticipation, a sea of sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor in time with the pulsing beat. The energy swallows you whole, knuckles turning white as you cling to Jimin's sleeve, letting him elbow through the throng of indistinguishable faces that glitter beneath the tacky disco ball dangling haphazardly from the ceiling.
The crowd eventually spits you back out in a quieter corner of the club, Namjoon already making a beeline for the seedy bar. "There's a whiskey sour with my name on it and it's the only thing that'll get me through this shit." He murmurs as he crosses the room and occupies a bar stool beside a couple mid heavy make out session, pulling the hat closer around his face.
With a sigh, you turn back to Jimin who is eyeing up the strip pole and the exotic dancers nearby with wide eyes. "I still don't think this is a good idea."
The italian leather couch you slump into is suspiciously sticky beneath your bare thighs. "He needs to get the apprehension out of his system," you counter. "Once he sees that there's no competition he'll be able to take him down."
"I hope you're right." Jimin is wringing his hands, not knowing what to do with them now his headset is sat on the backseat of the car a block away. "I'd hate for this to knock his confidence."
"What?" You snort. "You think Gloss might actually beat him?"
Namjoon is the best rapper around, there's no debate. Nobody could beat him. Not even Gloss.
"No." His pursed lips say otherwise. You raise a brow. Jimin lowers his voice. "Maybe. Namjoon's rash. Gets ahead of himself. If he doesn't pull it together he'll play straight into Yoongi's hands..."
"Shows starting." Your open mouth snaps shut when the cushions dip beside you and Namjoon throws his arms over the back of the couch, swirling his half empty glass with an overconfident smirk.
Jimin averts his gaze. He knows he probably said too much. Sure, you're technically his colleague but you're also Namjoon's sister, the daughter of his boss. If Namjoon had overheard his position at Big Hit could have been called into question.
You would have to grill him more about Yoongi's motives later. Namjoon was right; the show really was starting.
Lights send the club into a dizzying purple haze, a new beat rumbling through the club that makes your skin prickle. It's almost drowned out by the electricity in the air, the frantic stamping of feet, the brazen chants of a single name over and over that fills you with a funny tingly feeling.
Gloss! Gloss! Gloss!
Something about it feels dirty.
The crowd is packed tightly together in the pit now. Even from where you sit, avoiding club goers eyes on the opposite side of the room, you find your attention glued to the stage. The set up is nothing like the one your brother occupies every night; just a wooden structure, painted black at one point but scuffed and scratched by the soles of shoes that boast the history of the place. The speakers are propped on broken crates, no big LED screens or back up dancers like your parents hire out for Namjoon.
Though none of that seems to matter when your gaze falls on the sole microphone stand placed centre stage beneath a blinding spotlight. It's the only familiar parallel between the two performers. It's a symbol of an artist, of the passion that comes with being up on that stage — any stage. It belongs to a performer.
You have to peer through a sea of frantic waving hands on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the combat boots taking the stage in time with the music rushing in your ears, mouth dry at the silver rings glinting under the harsh lights as fingers curl around the microphone.
"Yoongi." Namjoon grunts beside you, back stick straight and alert now. The traces of his previous smirk have been erased, a line appearing at the bridge of his nose. "There he is."
Yoongi throws his head back, breathes in the stuffy air that carries the shouts and whistles of the crowd like it's the sweetest oxygen money can buy.
The stench of beer burns your eyes but you're scared you'll miss a glimpse of his messy blue hair, or the eyes drunk on the fierce energy pulsing through the club to stop watching even if you tried.
When his voice permeates the room it's husky, burning through you like a shot of dry whisky. Namjoon stiffens, loosens the bandana around his face so he can see better.
Is that Runch Randa?
"Namjoon..." You hiss. "People are looking."
"Shut up." He grits, jaw tightening as Yoongi's lyrics cut through the tension like a serrated knife.
The way he moves across the stage like he owns it is exhilarating, makes the blood in your veins pump hot, limbs turning to lead as the crowd hangs off his every word.
He's good. Great, even. His lyrics give you goosebumps and you realise you haven't felt like this about a performance in a long time. Passionate. Yoongi is exhilarating to watch and it shakes you to the core.
It's then that it dawns on you. The reason Namjoon feels threatened is because there is a real chance that he might loose everything.
Gloss might take the trophy once and for all.
You only rip your eyes away from the stage when you feel Namjoon stand up beside you, his body disappearing into the crowd.
You get up too. "Leave him." You watch Jimin mouth. "He's just angry, he'll calm down—"
You don't care about Namjoon, not when the air is suddenly too thick, too heavy to breathe. Not when your hands sweat and you heave with a desire to run from reality and the suffocating smell of stale cigarette smoke that made your throat burn, like you can't get your body to breathe.
"Y/N? Where are you going?"
You swear you're floating, feet never seeming to quite touch the ground as you battle against the hazy dizziness that makes the room spin, ignoring Jimin's exasperated shouts of your name as you push through the gaps between bodies and pray your sense of direction is still intact enough to pull your outstretched arms towards the exit.
--
It's dark outside when you spill out of the exit, spluttering and heaving for air.
The brick is cool against your back when you slide down a nearby wall, hugging your knees.
A deep breath. In then out. Your chest loosens, lungs begin to feel full enough again.
Until a gravelly voice rings out into the night, clearer than the thump of unintelligible music from inside the club that makes your head pound.
"So it was you I saw back there. Good to know I'm not seeing things."
Even before you lift your face from between your knees you know who it belongs to. The single person you want to see least in the world at this very moment.
"Go away." You grumble but all that follows is a low chuckle as Yoongi slumps down next to you, ensuring to leave a safe distance between your crouched bodies.
It's funny. You had been preparing yourself to see him all night but now he's actually here in front of you, your mouth is dry.
He looks the same as he always did; dark eyes that burn hot as they scan your face, cocky smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. His brow looks wearier than you remember though, too weary for a man of twenty three. The only indication that time has passed since him and your brother were best friends.
"I assume Namjoon sent you here, then?"
The mention of your brother's name offers you the courage you need to look at him directly. His forehead still gleams with sweat in the dim moonlight, hair slicked back with a red bandana. There's a ring around his eye now, black and bruised. He must have taken off the black hoodie he donned on stage, left now in only a white vest which exposes his arms and to your dismay makes your blood run a little hotter.
"He's inside. I just came along because I had to." You mumble. "I'm not his spy, you know."
"Sure as shit seems like it." Yoongi spits with an amused chuckle, head lolling on his shoulders to face you. "He worried I might tell everyone about his little secret? Or was he trying to find his own leverage?"
A hot anger boils beneath your skin, rising all the way to your cheeks. Namjoon wouldn't do that would he? He didn't play that way. He didn't need to get an upper hand on Yoongi. He just wanted to see what he was up against.
"What's your problem, Yoongi?" The smirk on his mouth never falters, something glinting behind his eyes that tells you he wants to get a rise out of you. Even so, you can't help the way your voice raises, staggering to your feet. He chuckles darkly in response. "You get off on being an asshole or something?"
"You're too naive. What's so bad about telling the truth?" He closed the space between you until he's hovering above you, breath warm against your cheek. Your heart starts to race."What's so bad about taking back what is mine?"
Your breath hitches when his hand presses into the wall beside your head, effectively cornering you beneath his chest. "You could ruin his career."
Yoongi snorts. "What? Like he ruined mine?"
A few beats of silence. His eyes scan your face and it makes your stomach feel funny. You push at his chest, sucking in a shaky breath when he backs off a little and you realise part of you is weirdly disappointed that he did.
"Yoongi I don't know what happened between you and Namjoon—"
"No. You wouldn't know." He scorns, slinging his hands in his pockets, face darker now at the mention of his feud with your brother. "Because Namjoon loves secrets right? Namjoon likes to use people, Y/N. Just like he's using you now, to get to the top. And then he'll throw you away just like he did with me, sweetheart."
"Namjoon wouldn't do that." You bite your lip, the words leaving your tongue sounding a little less sure than you intend.
"Why? What makes you think you're any different?"
"He's my brother."
"I was his brother once too, remember?" He swallows, shaking his head in disbelief at your denial. "The only blood that matters to Namjoon is the blood shed to get him to the top."
You wrap your arms around your torso instinctively. Yoongi's words cut too deep. Maybe something inside of you thought Yoongi was right?
No. You came here to protect Namjoon yet here you were allowing his enemy to get inside your head.
"Fuck you, Min Yoongi." You spit, enjoying the way his eyes widen at the venom lacing your tone. "I made a mistake coming here."
Before you could brush past him and escape the heat  running through your blood stream which feels fuzzier than hatred should, a hand curls around your wrist.
"Shit. Looks like someone's on your trail."
A quick glance over your shoulder reveals none other than Jimin, face hidden by the visor of his black cap but recognisable none the less. He speaks a few words to the bouncer, probably asking if they saw you come out.
"Oh no."
The bouncer gestures in your direction. Jimin's eyes pause for a second as they skim across your form stood rigid with shock and your heart falls out of your ass when he starts in the direction of where you stand way too close to Yoongi unable to move a single muscle as you brace for discovery. To pay for your betrayal of your brother.
"You coming or what?" Yoongi snaps you back to reality with a tug on your arm, feet stumbling over each other as he drags you behind him further down the alley and around a nearly pitch black corner, too far away from the street lights to be basked in their orange glow.
"What the fuck, Yoongi?" You try to shrug out of his grasp, heart beating faster when you see the flat look on his face. "Let go of me!"
Yoongi comes to an abrupt halt. "Listen, I'm trying to save your ass here. You want to get caught? Go on then! Not my problem."
You nibble your lip, glancing one way at the dark alley and the other at Jimin pacing up and down the street with furrowed brows.
"Just trust me, Y/N."
Jimin's footsteps get closer and closer. It's now or never.
Tightening your jaw, you turn back to Yoongi and nod. The words feel foreign as they pass your lips. "I...trust you."
With that, Yoongi grabs your hand and breaks into a sprint
Turning the corner, the alley meets a dead end. The back of the club is just as run down as the front, littered with cracked beer bottles and cigarette stumps. The sign above the door labelled NO ENTRY doesn't offer any light and apparently Yoongi doesn't listen to directions because he fishes in his back pocket for a key, sliding the bolt and pushing on the bar to hold the door open with a small nod for you to go inside first.
With a deep breath, you do.
The door closes behind you with a jingle of chains, cutting off the slither of moonlight it provided and sending you into complete darkness. You hear Yoongi slide the bolt back across and then he fumbles for you in the darkness, your body pulled down next to his with a yelp so that you're out of direct view of the window which looks inside the room.
"I think they followed us." His voice is silk but there's an underlying insinuation. Be quiet.
Yoongi's eye level now, knees squeezed up against yours in the cramped space beneath the window ledge. Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, able to see the way he scans your face when he thinks you aren't looking. The way he grumbles and looks away when you catch him.
There's not time to dwell as you hear footsteps turn the corner, tracking all the way to the door where the bolt rattles, a sleeve wiping the window and pressing a cupped face to the glass.
"She's not here, man. You must have seen someone else."
It was Hoseok. You'd recognise his voice anywhere. Countless all nighters in the studio together does that to a person. Had Jimin called him all the way down here to look for you?
Jimin chimes in quickly. "I could have sworn it was her..."
The voices trail off as they retreat back down the alley, around to the front of the club.
A sigh escapes you, head falling against the wall in relief. When you open your eyes Yoongi is looking at you again. There's something pained in his expression, unspoken words visible in the way he bites his cheek to stop them from spilling out into the darkness.
His fingers are still wrapped around your arm, an electricity buzzing through your veins when you feel him lean in closer, pulling you towards him just barely.
His lips. Chapped and so close to yours. God. You think you want to kiss them. Just to know how it feels. You've never seen them up this close before. Not close enough to feel his hot breaths puffing against your forehead. Not close enough that if you just lifted your chin a little bit...
Yoongi lets out an embarrassed cough, jolting you out of your thoughts. "That was a close one, huh?" The spot where his hand resided feels cold when he rips it away.
Yoongi's face is wiped of any emotion again. He's not completely slick though as when he finally speaks again he sounds husky, the betrayal in his voice surprising even him.
"Are you okay?"
What were you supposed to say to that? I almost got caught with my brother's enemy and then thought about kissing said enemy. No, I don't think I am okay.
"Fine. Thanks."
Yoongi offers you a hand, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him before he leans across your body to flick on the lights.
The yellowish stream burns your eyes but allows you to take in the room around you. There's a keyboard in the corner, piles of sheet music strewn across the wooden desk beside it. A pair of speakers hooked up to a worn looking sound machine. A mic and a pair of headphones slung over the back of the mismatch wheely chair tucked beneath a desk.
A studio.
He must notice the way you look around with wide eyes, redness creeping up his neck as he busies himself by kicking some of the clutter on the floor behind the desk. "Wasn't expecting guests."
It definitely wasn't the high tech producing set up you were provided with back at Big Hit, no hifi system or fancy computer programmes. The furniture was mismatch, like someone had collected a bunch of spare puzzle pieces and shook them up in the box until they made a picture.
Somehow of the pieces still manage to seem somehow inherently Yoongi; the basketball tee with GLOSS on the back draped over his chair, even the empty water bottles overflowing in the trash can. The tiny framed picture of a younger looking Yoongi next to a woman you think you recognise but can't quite put your finger on.
"Genius lab?" You snort, nodding towards the sign hanging haphazardly above the monitor.
Yoongi shrugs. "What can I say? It's true."
"Confident." You muse.
You share a smile. It's strange. Familiar. The way his eyes crinkle and even the husk of the chuckle that follows reminding you of when things were good, back when you considered Yoongi to be a sort of friend. Before things got fucked up.
"You'll take it back when I win."
Old habits might not die hard but the rational part of your brain registers the implication of his words, even beneath his playful facade. The studio suddenly feels cold. Nostalgia dissipates. You remember why you're here.
"Why didn't you just let them find me?"
"You know as well as I do that Namjoon risks getting disqualified if Jimin causes a scene and gets himself caught snooping around here."
You huff an exasperated breath. For all Yoongi's talk of  having the upper hand he sure did seem reluctant to use it. "Isn't that what you want? What's stopping you? Want to drag it out or something?"
Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, crossing the room and ducking into a drawer in the far corner. He returns with two glasses and a murky bottle of something strong, already a quarter empty as he pours some out. He offers the second glass towards you but you wave it away.
"Suit yourself." He takes a swig of the dark liquid, squeezes his eyes shut. "Because I want to win fair and square."
You shake your head. "All of this. Just for a stupid trophy?"
He eyes you over the rim of his glass, swirling the liquid with an overconfidence that makes you grit your teeth in annoyance. "So Namjoon knows how it feels to lose something he loves." He looks you up and down then, coughing and turning his head when you notice it. "Yeah. I guess it's for the trophy."
Yoongi is despicable, you think. Is he really so fame hungry that he will destroy anyone standing in his way to get it? Even Namjoon? Sure, your brother has his faults but if there is one thing you know it's that he loves being on that stage. What happened between them that makes Yoongi think he deserves it more?
"So its a revenge thing, then. And what if you lose, huh?" The way your voice raises makes you wince. Yoongi slams his glass down and flashes you an are you serious face.
"Y/N don't you see? I have nothing to lose. Namjoon already took everything. My life, my family, my fame. Everything. You know how it feels to have it all dangled in front of your face? And then get it ripped away like it was never yours to begin with?"
Yes. You'd never tell him that, of course. But you did know. You had to watch Namjoon perform your songs every night through a camera lens. Snapping shots of him in his element and wishing those picture perfect moments were yours. What did Yoongi know?
"I see him on the big screen, on stages I dreamed of. Crowds screaming his name. It was supposed to be me, Y/N. Meanwhile I'm sat here," Yoongi gestures to the shabby studio you find yourself in, liquid sloshing over the edge of his glass. "In clothes I printed myself, making music in a shitty club for free because nobody will even listen to my shit."
He's panting by the end of his spiel, knuckles pressed to his eyes as he tries to regain his composure before he lets too many of his weaknesses show. Something resonates inside you, softening the anger towards him with what you recognize as sympathy.
"Then why do you still do it? Make music?"
"Because it's the only thing that never left me alone."
You sigh. While you're collecting your thoughts something catches your eye — a Polaroid picture, tacked onto the plasterboard behind his computer. It's of a smiling Yoongi and much to your surprise, a smiling Namjoon, arms wrapped around each other like nothing could ever break them apart. You briefly wonder why he kept it, if he hated Namjoon so much.
You turn to him again.
"Don't make me regret saying this but you're good, Yoongi. Like really good. Your performance earlier it was...amazing. I mean that."
Yoongi's stern eyes soften with surprise. He almost seems pained, like the simple compliment means more to him than you expected.
"So, you don't have to do this. Big Hit has connections, I could get in touch with a couple record labels--"
He stiffens again. "What? Are you my manager now? As if any record label would take a chance on the biggest Mic Drop loser in history, Y/N, don't talk shit."
You trail off. It's true and you know it.
He swallows hard. "You know what I think? I think you're here because you know that I might actually win this thing. As much as Namjoon knows how to play dirty he doesn't have the talent. He never did! That's why he's using you to write his material." His laugh makes you shiver. "How can he even call himself an artist? It's pathetic."
That's all it takes for your patience to snap. Is the way your blood boils with a sudden and insatiable rage because of the way he bad mouthed your brother? Surely you didn't actually believe him? No, everything he said was a lie -- it had to be.
Your hand curls into a fist, anger spilling over as you charge at him full force. Yoongi barley flinches, his fingers deftly curling around your wrist before it can meet his jaw and pulling you into him at the waist so he can slot his bottom lip between yours.
"Fuck yo— hmf?"
Your eyes widen as you register his slightly chapped lips moving against your own, remnants of the amber liquid he poured down his throat earlier sour on your tongue, a surprised gasp leaving you when Yoongi flips your bodies and slams your back roughly against the wall, settling himself between your legs.
"Gonna finish what Namjoon started, sweetheart?" When he pulls back you're panting, eyes trained to his parted lips with wonder.
He kissed you. Yoongi kissed you. For real.
His warm breath still mingles with yours as you try to choke a response, anything. Yoongi's eyes have a dark glint to them and god you should hate him for winding you up like this but being this close to him just feels too good.
Then, before you can think better of it, you grab his collar with your free hand and smash your lips together in a tangle of teeth and tongue that makes your entire body burn with relief.
The groan he lets out against your mouth tells you he wants this too. "Fuck, couldn't help myself." He pants. "You're driving me crazy."
You feel a dampness throb between your legs when his hands tangle in your hair, lips never leaving yours as he pulls you across the room and drops into his chair.
A whimper is pulled from your lips when his palms cup the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, though it's not in protest, dizzy with desire when he pulls you into his lap and bucks his hips so that his half hard cock brushes against your clothed heat.
"See what you do to me?" He pulls back to smirk at your swollen lips, a much needed breath entering your lungs, filling you with another bout of restless desire as Yoongi's eyes scan your face hungrily. It feels too good even though it should be so wrong.
"W-we shouldn't." Your mouth is dry, words coming out a little unsure which gives away just how much you want to keep going. "What if--"
A particularly harsh thrust of his hips makes you moan softly, head falling into the crook of Yoongi's neck. He growls when he catches sight of the growing wet patch on the front of his jeans, testament of his effect on you as much as you hated to admit it.
"What if Namjoon finds out?" His hand shoots between your legs, pads of his fingers tracing your clothed core, the coarse lace of your panties adding a delicious layer of friction against your folds. The delicate touch sets your body alight, skin burning to let go and submit to the feeling despite the voice in the back of your mind screaming no!
"What if Namjoon finds out that I make you this wet?" Your panties are sticking to your heat by now so it would have been futile to deny it. He smiles smugly when your legs shake and you throw an arm around his neck to keep your balance.
"S-shut up." It's meek and it only makes him laugh darkly, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer to nibble on the lobe of your ear.
If you didn't know any better you would think he was unaffected by this. Your chest heaves with desire and your hands itch with a yearning to touch him but Yoongi appears the epitome of composure, maintaining sinful eye contact as he pulls your panties to the side. The only give away is the way his cock twitches against your leg with each jerk of his hips, a funny sense of pride erupting in your chest knowing that he wants you too.
Open mouthed kisses drag down your jaw, lingering at your neck. His teeth nibble at the sensitive skin, tongue laving out to soothe the sting and it feels too good to worry about the bruises his sinful lips leave behind as a reminder of your weakness Namjoon could never know of.
"Look so pretty marked up, sweetheart." The pet name makes your clit throb, head throwing back as his mouth attacks the sensitive spot on your neck like he knew it was there all along. It's almost concerning how quickly he has you falling apart in his lap. How easily he turned you into a shuddering mess, barely able to form coherent sentences in between breathy gasps at the sensation of him making you his for all to see. "Show everyone that you're mine, hm?"
When Yoongi removes his hand from your core you slap a hand over your mouth to stop a whine of protest from escaping. Yoongi's eyes narrow, palming his bulge through his trousers as he watches you writhe in his lap with amusement, every twist of your hips falling short and providing no relief for your pulsing clit, already missing the feeling of his hand cupping your mound and considering how it would feel skin on skin—
Oh god. What am I doing?
You let out a groan, but not the good kind.
"What?" Yoongi seems to read your mind, snapping you back to reality when he pulls your panties to the side. He circles your entrance teasingly and you can't help the way you whimper. "Don't act like you don't want to sink down on my cock, Y/N. You could ride me right here and nobody would ever know."
"H-how can I trust you?" It would ruin Namjoon if he found out. He was already stressed, already growing distant from you. This had to stop before it went too far. Before there was no going back.
"Because I can make you feel like this." A lithe finger slides into your heat, easy because of how you drip over his hand. "Think about how much better my cock would stretch you out, hm?"
Each drag of his finger against your velvety walls has you squeezing your eyes shut. The sensation is overwhelming, and when he adds a second digit  you feel your repose crumble. Lust seems to crash over you like a wave, clouding your thought with a hazy desire to just give in and let Yoongi take you, uncaring about the repercussions now as you push down to meet his thrusts so he hits deeper than before.
"Fine." Your words are slurred, too busy chasing the feeling between your legs to see the way it makes Yoongi's eyes light up. "J-just hurry up and fuck me Yoongi."
"Well well," Yoongi settles back against the wall, looking between your bodies to watch the way his fingers disappear into your soaking cunt with an expression almost primal, his own breathing ragged now as he tries to resist turning you over and fucking you into tomorrow then and there. "Never thought I'd actually get to hear my name on your lips like this. Say it again."
A sharp flick of his wrist has you falling against his chest, pulsing around him. "Yoongi!"
"That's right," He licks his lips, free hand unzipping his jeans to relieve the pressure on his length. "Me. Yoongi." The way he mimicks your breathless tone makes a hot blush rise in your cheeks, aware of just how fucked out you must seem right now but too horny to care. "Been waiting for this. Ah shit!"
You take it upon yourself to hurry along the process by reaching into the waistband of his boxers to wrap a hand around the shaft of his cock. It pulses at your touch, the pace of Yoongi's fingers in your cunt stuttering as he flies forward, knuckles on the hand gripping your thigh turning white as he tries to regain some control while you stroke him firmly.
"Fuck your hands. Sinful. Knew they would be. God you're going to kill me if you keep this up, I swear." The worlds tumble from his mouth in one heaving breath as you twist your palm around his sticky head, enjoying the way his thighs twitch with a want to buck into your fist and his nose flares with the effort it takes to resist.
His cock feels girthy in your palm, hot and heavy as you help him shimmy his jeans around his thighs. When his cock slaps back against his stomach, impossibly hard and leaking with anticipation you feel your mouth water.
"Like what you see?" He almost taunts.
You bite your lip. "I don't think you're gonna fit."
It must have brushed his ego because the tip seemed to flush an even deeper shade of red. "Wanna sit on it and find out?"
A nod is all it takes for Yoongi to slide your panties to the side, slapping your hands away to grip the base of his cock and line it up with your entrance.
You both groan in unison when he pushes into your heat, the stretch burning with every inch, fingers clutching the fabric of his tank top at the sensation of finally being full.
"Fuuuck." You see his tongue snake out to wet his bottom lip when his hips finally join flush to yours, hair sticking to his already damp forehead as he allowed you to adjust. "So fucking tight for me, princess."
His cock throbs impossibly deep inside you when you unconsciously clench around it, feeling your face flush as you whimper for him to get on with it and fuck you already.
"Shh, patience." His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, setting it free with a pop. "Move."
At his command you do, bracing yourself on his shoulders. You raise up, feeling every ridge of his length until just the tip remains inside your heat. Then you are slamming back down and flushing at the groan which tumbles from his chest.
"Such a slut, taking my cock so well." His palms feel hot on your hips, dragging you up and down through the motion that has you panting.
Yoongi looks utterly amazed at the visual of you sinking down onto his length, unable to stop the satisfied grin settling into his features when you cry out after a particularly deep thrust. "Imagine if Namjoon could see you now. Falling apart on my cock?"
"Can we — hnng — not talk about my brother when you're in my fucking guts?"
"Why?" A whine leaves you when he slips out of your cunt, grabs you by the ass, and hoists you to your feet, roughly bending you over the desk until your cheek presses against the cold surface. Yoongi tugs your hands behind your back, cock already sinking back into your heat before you can protest at the emptiness. "Worried he'll think you're a slut for taking my cock when I'm the one whose going to fucking end him?"
"Yes!" You cry, unable to hold back now as you feel his cock hit deeper than before with every ram inside you that fills the room with the slapping sound of his pistoning hips, brushing your sweet spot each time and making the coil in your stomach tighten.
God, this is so wrong and you know it. You know it shouldn't feel so good when Yoongi's hands tangle in your hair, pulling you so that your back arches flush against his sweaty chest. Know how many people would be hurt if they knew how much you love it, how you push back into his thrusts, eager for more.
"Shit, you're squeezing so tight." His voice sounds strained now, thrusts turning sloppy as you feel him shudder. "Close, shit. Where can I—"
"Inside me. Want you to f-fill me."
"Holy sh— always wanted to hear you say that. Okay, fuck."
A few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling inside you, the feeling of his release coating your walls enough to have you falling over the edge unexpectedly too, vision turning black as you cum with a cry.
The only sound that fills the silence is your heavy breaths mingling with his as your arms give out. You're silently grateful, as much as you hated to admit it, for the strong arm around your torso that holds you to him when your legs turn to jelly.
Yoongi slips out of you, admiring the way his cum leaks down your trembling thighs. The emptiness makes you keen, clenching around nothing.
"Made such a mess of you, kitten."
The sound of his zipper makes your heart sink, stiffening as he tucks his spent cock back into his pants. For a second you think he's going to leave you like this, shame caressing your cheeks as you envision how fucked out you must look.
But then, Yoongi's palms are back on your thighs as he kicks the chair from under his desk and pushes you roughly onto the cushion. "Think you can go again for me, princess?"
"Wha--?" His swollen lips make you loose your words, the way his tongue tantalizingly caresses your bottom lip drawing a choked whine from your throat instead.
"Fuck, always thought you'd make such pretty noises." It's mumbled gruffly under his breath, like he's confirming it with himself rather than addressing you. He pulls back to stare at you spread out for him, lidded eyes widening at the visual of your skirt pooled around your waist, legs kept open by the rough grip around your thigh that exposes your swollen slit. The way your arousal drips down your inner thighs along with his own release has him swallowing thickly. "Like being filled with my cum, huh? Such a slut."
Yoongi traces his fingers up your inner thighs, thumb applying a gentle pressure to your clit, legs struggling to fall shut around his hand to escape the over stimulation. "P-please Yoongi, I can't."
"You will." It's growled against your neck, hot breath making you shudder. "I know you can take it."
A knee slips between your thighs, holding them open so his fingers can deftly continue their brutal attack on your sensitive folds. Each drag of his knuckle up your slit makes you whimper, the way the pads of his fingers rub firm circles into your clit making it pulse. The feeling is more intense than before, borderline agonizing as a warmth builds in the pit of your stomach again.
Eventually the pain starts to dissipate, turns into something closer to pleasure when you feel a single digit slip into your heat, the slide made easy by the fact that his cock had already stretched you out and his release lubed you up nicely. Each pump makes a lewd squelching noise that has you biting your lip to stop from groaning unabashedly, Yoongi's gaze fixed to the sight of his knuckles disappearing inside you.
When you buck up into his touch again, desperately circling your hips to try and grind your clit against the heel of his hand, Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle. The muscles in your cunt tighten, skin damp with sweat as you fuck yourself on his hand in search of a second high that burns ever closer.
"Look at you, all needy again from just one finger. All fucked out again even after I stretched you out."
With that Yoongi removes his hand from your heat all together, leaving you gasping and clenching around nothing as your release falls farther away, unable to resist the groan of frustration that passes your lips.
"Don't stop!" Your head lolls back against the chair, thighs trembling with desperation to feel his touch again. "I was so close--"
"Suck." Yoongi raises his fingers to your lips. You notice the way they gleam, sticky and white in the studio lighting. The pads of his fingers smear the wetness across your swollen lips as he pushes for entry which you gave to him eagerly, humming around the digits. "Be a good girl, hm?"
He all but groans when your eyes flutter open and lock with his, tongue swirling around his fingers teasingly, enjoying the taste of your own arousal mixed with the saltiness of his cum, almost in sensory overload at the thought of how much better his cock would feel in your throat.
"That's it." A knuckle drags down your cheek possessively, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good girl."
A sticky trail of spit follows Yoongi's fingers when they leave your mouth with a lewd pop, your breaths coming out shaky and desperate as you watch his eyes zone in on your aching core.
The sight of him dropping to his knees is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, whimpering when his hot breath grazes over your throbbing clit. "Wanna taste you for myself."
And with that his tongue runs a rough stripe up your slit, eyes falling shut as he hums against your folds contentedly.
"Fuck Yoongi!" Your eyes roll back as he laps a few teasing licks across your bud, body turning to putty when his hands roughly pull you down the chair so that he can attach his mouth to your mound fully.
A guttural moan rises from his chest when you grind your core against his face, knuckles turning white as you clutch he chair like it's the only thing keeping you grounded, stopping you from floating away and losing yourself to the feeling of Yoongi's tongue teasing your already wrecked hole. An impatience rises in your stomach every time his nose grazes your clit, pushing your hips more forcefully to chase the relief it brings.
"So eager." You knew he'd have a smirk on his face if his lips weren't already occupied, wrapping around your clit and sucking with just the right amount of pressure to have your fingers tangling in the blue locks that spill loose from his bandanna now, holding him to your core so that you can rock against his tongue easier.
"Close sweetheart?" The way your chest heaves and little gasps spill past your lips as you chase your high must give away the effect he is having on you. You nod breathlessly and to your surprise Yoongi places a chaste kiss to your folds before pulling back all together, leaving you writhing and desperate for him to make cum for the second time. "Did I give you permission?"
Your heart beats furiously as your release slips away once again. Yoongi only stares at you intently. His lips glisten with a mixture of both of your releases and the thought alone makes your core ache. A loose shake of your head makes his eyes darken, licking some of the dampness from around his lips. "Gotta use your words, baby. Did I say you could cum?"
Dizzy with arousal, your words sound slurred and alien to your own ears. "N-no."
"Good. Now ask nicely."
"Please." It comes out whinier than you anticipate but Yoongi's hands twitch against the flesh of your thighs, giving away the fact that he likes it despite the way his mouth presses into a tight and unforgiving line. "Can I cum? Please?"
A deep laugh leaves his bitten lips. "I don't think you deserve it." His head dips back down between your legs, sloppy kisses pressed to each of your thighs as he edges ever closer to your dripping core. "I want you to count, okay?"
"O-oh, okay." He attacks your clit again, tongue swirling where his teeth graze across the pulsing bud. You're so sensitive that you're sure just the light brushes of his lips will send you over the edge if he keeps going.
"G-gonna cum if you--"
"Don't." The authority in his voice makes you gasp. "Didn't I say to count? One."
"Fuck!" Hot tears streak your cheeks when he pulls back so just his hot breath ghosts across your glistening folds. "I..I was so close!"
"Hey, hey." His hand reaches up to stroke your cheek, a strangely gentle action in comparison to the bruising grip on your thigh. "You're doing so good. Trust me, okay? Wanna make you feel good."
For the second time that night you nod, putting all your trust into him for reasons you are too fucked out to dwell on there and then.
When his tongue snakes out to tease your clenching hole again it draws an agonizing cry from you, the coil already tightening in your belly. You shut your eyes.
"Don't" The hand on your chin tightens, forces you to look down at where his face is buried between your legs, authority lacing his words again. "Keep your eyes on me."
As soon as you lock eyes he gets to work again, humming out a "good girl" before you're losing yourself again to his tongue and he has to plant your feet down roughly to stop your hips from bucking too much.
Before you know it your clit's throbbing again and you're about to fall over the edge but before you can even let Yoongi know he's pulling back with a pant, practically gasping for air but still flashing you a shit eating grin. "Didn't think I was going to let you, did you sweetheart?"
"Two." You manage to breathe. "Two!"
By now you're sick of the teasing, a hand coming between your own legs to finish yourself off, ready to come undone whether Yoongi likes it or not. Before you can get your way, Yoongi's swatting your hand away. "Desperate slut. Wanna cum that bad huh?"
"Please!" You practically whimper.
That seems to do it for him, his eyes glazing over with what you recognise as lust. As if the last of his self control just snapped. Anticipation makes your blood run hot.
"Then make it to three and we'll see if I'm feeling nice."
"Shit!" Yoongi's tongue plunges into your heat with a new found eagerness, thrusting in and out like a man deprived. You manage to maintain eye contact this time, falling apart at the way he groans in appreciation when he tastes himself, fucking your hole with his tongue mercilessly like he wants to get every last drop of his cum.
His thumb finds your clit and the coil in your lower belly tightens too rapidly for you to comprehend, tugging on his hair as you cry out. "Yoongi!"
"Cum for me."
His permission is all it takes to have you falling over the edge into a shattering orgasm that makes your vision turn black, mind wiped of any hesitation and guilt and replaced with a single word, over and over again: Yoongi.
When you finally take a gasping breath, he's there, rubbing encouraging circles into your hips and leaving kisses across your stomach that makes something in your chest warm, heart beating a little faster and not just from your orgasm.
"So fuckin' pretty when you cum." You're sure that's what he murmurs against your damp skin. "Can't believe I had to wait this long."
You furrow your brow. Yoongi sits back against his heels, wiping your arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you a lazy but satisfied smile, looking awfully pleased with himself. Like this was his biggest dream come true.
It dawned on you that it probably was in someways -- what better way to get back at an old friend than by fucking his sister?
You suddenly feel like an idiot for letting him charm you, guilt washing through you, flying forward when your chest aches with regret.
Yoongi notices how you pale. "Are you okay? If that was too much then I'm really sorry--"
"Too much?" You suddenly feel exposed beneath his gaze, shuffling around to pull your skirt around your thighs, eyes roaming the room hurriedly for your panties so you can get out of here and quick. "This is all too much, Yoongi."
"What?" He puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you as you brush past him but the way you jolt at the touch makes him rip it away like he touched a live wire.
"I...shouldn't have come here. This was a mistake."
Namjoon's face was embedded in your mind. The way his eyes would crumple with betrayal if he found out you came here at all -- let alone let Yoongi take you so intimately. And you hadn't even tried to stop yourself from falling into him, gave in to your emotions too easily and allowed Yoongi to use you as a swipe at your own brother.
"Why? Didn't seem so upset when you were coming on my tongue." The scoff in Yoongi's voice makes you freeze.
"I can't stop you from hurting Namjoon," Your lip quivers and you have to press your nails into your palms to stop the tears spilling over. "But do you really have to hurt me, too?"
"Y/N, wait--"
Your hands shake as you grab your bag and head for the door. "Shit happened between you and my brother, I get it. But we were friends once, Yoongi. Doesn't that mean anything to you? We can't see each other again."
Your tears are warm in contrast to the cold evening air as you take off into a run, needing to get as far away from Yoongi and the evidence of your own betrayal as possible.
By the time you stumble back into the Big Hit company building, the studio is empty. To your surprise, words seem to flow out of you easier than they ever had before, a heart shaped stain appearing on the formerly empty page of your notebook.
--
Sleepless nights were becoming your norm. You had barely slept a wink since that night, not when every thought was plagued with guilt, the same name running circles around your mind, the same dark eyes and swollen lips and messy hair tauntingly appearing in your mind whenever your head hit the pillow.
Yoongi.
That night with Yoongi felt something like a dream, a hazy memory, the only evidence of it being real the fact that every time you closed your eyes you could feel the way Yoongi's hands burned your skin, how his lips moved perfectly in sync with your own.
As much as you knew it was a mistake, something that should have never happened, you couldn't help the way your heart throbbed every time you replayed it over and over in your mind, repeatedly, until you felt like you were going insane with guilt. It was eating you alive. But sometimes you would remember the way you felt when he was pressed up against you and every ounce of regret felt worth it.
You hated yourself for it, and you knew your brother would hate you to, if he ever found out.
He could never find out.
So, you take to avoiding Namjoon altogether. It wasn't that hard really, you knew his schedule well enough to be a step ahead of him at all times, and it wasn't as if he was enthusiastic about your company to begin with.
Of course sometimes your paths have to cross, but you still can't look Namjoon in the eyes when you slip into one of the Big Hit practice rooms where you know you'll inevitably find him.
The music hits before you even open the door. Namjoon is dressed in casual clothes, cap pulled down low over his face as he raps into a mic, the way his voice husks a tell tale sign that this was not the first time he'd gone over the same verse.
He seems stiffer than usual, all elbows and knees as he scrutinises his own form in the wall to floor mirror. You've seen him perform this choreography flawlessly hundreds of times so your brow furrows with confusion each time his feet miss a beat or his knees literally buckle under the pressure.
On the far side of the room sits a row of men and women in formal suits. Investors, brought in to bet on the contestant most likely to win. They watch Namjoon with intent eyes, some shaking their heads in disapproval, others whispering insults below their breaths.
Is that really Runch Randa? Pfft, he'll never win with footwork like that.
Jimin stands close by, hopping from one foot to the other and wincing with every mistake Namjoon makes. He's been making desperate phone calls for the last week, pleading with any investor he could get ahold of to take a chance on Namjoon which was hard to come by after the royal media fuck up the other day at the after party.
This was Namjoon's only chance at a do over — he needed their money if he wanted to win this thing. The judges were expecting a show from him. Smoke machines and good lighting are expensive, after all.
Namjoon, however, only seems interested in the reactions of your parents sat in the back row, expressions grave. He's chastising himself, self loathing evident in his eyes every time he stutters over a lyric. He knows how hard they worked to establish Big Hit and the disappointment in their eyes as it slowly slips through Namjoon's fingers like sand makes even you feel jittery with nerves.
For a brief moment you're grateful that you are practically invisible in this room, no eyes even glancing your way as you join them. You're glad that Namjoon takes the brunt of the pressure. You never were the strong sibling after all.
The music cuts, Namjoon coming to a stand still. He crumples at the knees, forehead pressed against the polished linoleum floor as he tries to catch his breath.
Jimin slumps into a chair, head in hands. That tells you all you need to know.
Investors leave the room, some sending apologetic looks towards Jimin with a shrug. Others deposit their cheque books back into their briefcases, taking pity on the pleading smiles and firm handshakes from your parents when they apologise for Namjoon's lacking performance. One even pats Namjoon on the back, following the small crowd as they leave the room. "Take a break, buddy."
Nearly everyone has filtered out before Namjoon gets to his feet shakily, slumping down into a seat beside you. You don't acknowledge him, afraid of what you might let slip if you do, fiddling with your camera as a distraction.
It's him who breaks the silence.
"How's the song coming along?" He seems disinterested, clicking his knuckles with no real intention of listening to your response.
"Fine." Another lie. It wasn't coming along at all, really, but now is probably not the best time to tell him when his nerves are already heightened by his failure to gain any crucial investments.
His eye is still slightly swollen from the fist fight a few days ago, a permanent line forming at the bridge of his nose that wasn't there before. You almost didn't recognise him. He stares at his own broken reflection in the steamed practice room mirrors vacantly, like he doesn't  even recognise himself.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass. Namjoon's heavy breathing slows to a regular pace.
"I know you went to see him."
It echos menacingly through the room and you stiffen, clutching the floor beneath you for support. Namjoon's hard eyes still don't look your way but you see him analysing your reaction in the mirror. The way your mouth gapes speechlessly tells him everything he needs to know.
"Not even gonna try and deny it?" His head shakes in disbelief.
You throb with guilt. "H-how did you find out?"
"I have people everywhere keeping an eye on him, Y/N. You're lucky the paparazzi didn't catch you, because it sure as shit looked shady. My own sister," He scoffs around the word, as if it tastes bad in his mouth. "Siding with him?"
You place a hand on his forearm, surprised to find him shaking beneath your touch. "I'm not siding with him, Namjoon."
"Then what are you doing?" He roars, ripping his arm away.
What was I doing? You don't even know yourself.
It takes everything inside you to keep the expression on your face neutral, to wipe away the regret and the sadness and the fear that makes your voice wobble.
"We just talked." You had to avert your gaze, scared that somehow your disingenuous eyes would give away what really happened with Yoongi — a little more than talking to say the least.
"About what?"
"The secret, okay? I wanted to protect you—"
"Protect me?" Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. "How is meddling in business that doesn't even concern you protecting me, Y/N?"
"Have you forgotten that what you're — we're — doing is against Mic Drop rules? That you could be disqualified or...worse! Get your trophy revoked?"
"Pfft. Yoongi won't say anything.."
"What makes you so sure?"
"It's me he wants to hurt. I know him, Y/N. He'd never forgive himself if you—" He eyes you carefully. "If anyone else got dragged into this. It's between me and him, that's it."
Your head is spinning. You remember a time when things weren't this way, back when Yoongi and Namjoon were friends. Partners. What happened between them that made them so hell bent on destroying one another?
"There are things about Yoongi that you will never understand, Y/N. Things he did that can never be forgiven."
It briefly crosses your mind that if Namjoon could cut Yoongi, his best friend, out of his life, just how easy it would be for him to do the same to you if he found out just how unforgivable your betrayal was. A funny feeling pools in your stomach, a distance settling between you and Namjoon as, to your dismay, you realise just how much you have in common with your brother's enemy.
"But what about you, huh? Why should he forgive you? You took everything from him! I'm not surprised he's back to kick your ass. If you ask me it's him who should be holding a grudge—"
Namjoon's hands clamp onto your shoulders and you recoil from the contact. You're breathing hard, the tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill over any second.
"Listen to me. He's trying to get in your head. You need to stay away from him Y/N. He's bad news."
"Tell me why! Help me understand!"
Namjoon's face is grave. "Some secrets are best kept that way. It'll only make it worse if I tell you."
Before you can protest he's striding across the room and hitting the play button on the boom box in the corner, music blasting from the speakers again.
"Joon—"
"Just stick to taking pictures and stop getting involved in business that doesn't concern you."
Then his body is twisting across the room in time to the music with an intensity he didn't possess before. Like a machine on autopilot.
You shove your camera into your bag and let the door slam shut behind you.
--
"We were a mistake."
The cursor flashing on the empty document on your computer screen feels like it's taunting you.
"Please don't tell my brother what we did."
You've been like this for the last week. Holed up in one of the tiny studios at the Big Hit company building, head swimming with beats and melodies and lyrics that just won't seem to fit together. Not when your mind is preoccupied with a more pressing issue.
"Are you thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you?"
Yoongi.
God, how are you supposed to write this song for Namjoon when all you can think about is his enemy?
You don't know why you're still so hung up on Yoongi. It's not as if what happened between you meant anything. It was just a spur of the moment mistake. You were both tense and needed someone to help blow off some steam. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Right?
You'll never admit that deep down, a part of you wants to see him again. To check that he's real and that you didn't imagine the whole thing. To see if he is going as crazy as you feel.
That's when the answer hits you. The only way to make this right is to end things once and for all. Tie up all your loose ends and tell Yoongi that you and him were a one time thing. Make sure you were on the same page.
Then maybe you'll be able to concentrate on helping Namjoon beat his ass.
A sudden confidence grips you, standing up abruptly from your desk, alerting the attention of Hoseok who up until now has been quietly engrossed in the track he's producing.
"Where are you going?" He asks.
There's an address burning at the forefront of your mind. You have the route committed to memory. How long it'll take to get there. How long it'll take to get back before anyone else at Big Hit notices your absence.
The only place you knew where you might find Yoongi.
"I won't be gone long. Cover for me if anyone sees I'm gone, 'kay?"
Hoseok eyes you curiously and pulls his headphones to sit around his neck. "O-okay but don't you think you should take an umbrella? It's raining and you might catch a cold — oh."
You don't hear him, the door already slamming behind you.
--
In hindsight, Hoseok was probably right. You're soaked before you even get half way to Yoongi's studio.
Not that you care. Not when there are so many things you want to say to Yoongi. So many questions only he knows the answer to.
Not when you're about to see him again and you're giddy and nervous and scared of the way your heart feels like it's about to bust out of your chest.
You don't really know why you're doing this. For Namjoon's sake? To ease your own guilty conscience? Both?
You shake your head before your confidence can deflate and focus on putting two feet in front of the other instead, trying to take your mind of your destination by focusing on your surroundings. You always liked this part of town, with it's bustling roads and street vendors and buskers. Here it's easy to forget, to just close your eyes and let the buzz of cars and the melody from a nearby street guitarist and the torrent of ice cold rain whisk you away, like life is operating at double the speed but you're too caught up in your own thoughts to care.
So caught up in your own thoughts that you don't spot the guy handing out flyers on the side of the street until your face is colliding with his shoulder.
"Shit, I'm so sorry!"
The guy lets out a groan as you helplessly watch his flyers flutter to the ground like autumn leaves, disintegrating on the rain dampened street.
"Does nobody look where they're going any more? My boss is going to kill me..."
The guy gets to his knees and starts grabbing as many flyers as he can by the handful.
"I'm so sorry, at least let me help?"
You hear him sigh deeply but he doesn't stop you when you drop down beside him.
You stamp on a flyer before it can be whisked away by the breeze. It's ruined. The rain makes the ink bleed into a black blotch in the center of the sodden paper, but if you squint you can just make out the barely legible print.
Live Classical Piano - 7:30 - 9:30 Every Wednesday At The Coffee House!
A throat clears, shaking you back to reality, and a nimble hand thrusts towards you, palm up, waiting for you to deposit the pile of flyers you collected.
"Just gonna stand there all day, sweetheart? Some of us have a job to do."
Shame heats your cheeks. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'll pay for these —"
Its then, as you let your hood fall down, that the boy stiffens. You look up slowly, meeting a widened pair of piercing grey eyes for the first time. The very same eyes you haven't been able to get out of your head all week.
"Wait...Yoongi?"
It's him. He's here? A coincidence surely but it sure as shit doesn't feel like one.
Just seeing him knocks the breath out of your lungs.
Yoongi blinks a few times, eyes wide with disbelief. Then he's ripping the flyers from your slackened grip and grabbing you by the wrist, dragging you behind him to the side of the street where you're just out of view from passerby's.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He deadpans.
You take in the way his mint hair clings damply to his forehead, shirt darker in places where droplets of rain soak into the fabric. He's wearing one of those traditional pianist outfits with the funny tuxedo jacket and a little black bow tie strung around his neck that looks like it came from a bad Beethoven Halloween costume. It catches you off guard. No wonder you didn't recognise him before. Not exactly hip hop.
"What are you doing here?"
Yoongi glances over his shoulder warily. "Look, you can't tell anyone you saw me here okay? Did Namjoon send you?"
"What? No--?"
"Just leave, Y/N. Before someone sees you here and tells your precious brother that you've been hanging around with scum like me." He spits, drops your arm and starts in the direction he came from.
"Yoongi, wait!" You blurt, throwing your hands up in frustration. He freezes."Can we...can we just talk?"
Yoongi nearly does a double take. He's usually full of jibes but this catches him off guard. "Talk?"
He backtracks, though you notice the way he keeps a safe distance between you. It feels silly considering how much...closer you were just a few days ago. You wonder, as his eyes look you up and down, if he's thinking about it too. If you crossed his mind as much as he crossed yours.
"Listen, I don't have time for this, I need to go get some more of these flyers..."
Your heart drops, embarrassed for even entertaining the idea that he would want to see you again.
"Please?"
He hesitates. You're sure he's going to blow you off again but then his eyes fill with something scarily close to concern. "Shit, you're shivering."
Your hair hangs in heavy tendrils around your face, droplets of cold rain caressing your cheeks. Your knees knock, arms wrapped around the damp hoodie clinging to your torso to retain some warmth.
Yoongi shrugs off his jacket, despite the way his own teeth chatter. "You're going to catch your death dressed like that."
You stand there dumbly as he holds it out to you. He kicks a stone with the toe of his sneaker awkwardly when you finally wrap it around your shoulders.
"I thought you didn't want to see me again." It's almost accusing but you're sure you hear a trace of a pout in his voice.
"I...I didn't want to." Yoongi looks up. "But I think we should talk about you know...us."
Yoongi bites his lip, like he's having an inner debate. Like he's about to do something he knows he shouldn't.
"Fine. Let's talk. I, uh, guess I have some things I need to say to you too." He scratches the back of his neck. "But not here. Could I—would it be weird if we got coffee or something?"
Definitely weird. That's what you should say. But you don't.
"Okay."
You don't miss the way Yoongi's cheeks turn a little red.
--
The coffee shop Yoongi takes you to is a quaint little place, definitely not the sort of establishment you expected rough-around-the-edges Min Yoongi to frequent with its exposed brick walls and mint green espresso mugs with smiley faces on the side that give it a somewhat cosy appeal.
"I work here," He explains when he sees your eyes roaming. "Needed some extra cash."
You nod. Makes sense. The smell of pumpkin bread and coffee beans is still a welcome relief from the bitter chill outside.
The guy at the counter nods in greeting when Yoongi approaches, already grinding up coffee like he knows his regular order. Yoongi flashes him a tight smile. You figure they know each other, not that Yoongi seems the type to mingle within barista social circles but then again he is full of surprises today.
They share a few hushed whispers, staring not so subtly in the direction of where you sit hunched in one of the corner booths, but you just ignore it by watching a rain drop crawl down the window with rapt attention.
Words barely pass between you and Yoongi until you're both seated, him with a coffee you learn he takes black and you with a much too sugary frappe which you take to stirring with your straw nervously, chin in palm.
It's Yoongi who finally breaks the silence.
"What are you thinking?" He looks at you expectantly over the rim of his mug. For some reason it makes you nervous.
Guilt niggles at your repose. The cafe is alive with indistinguishable chatter, a coffee machine whirring loudly nearby. In reality, you merely blend in to the hubbub. But as you watch Yoongi fiddle with the rings on his fingers in anticipation of your response it's like a hush has fallen and all eyes are on you. Judging, like they know how wrong it is for you to be here.
He's been the only thing on your mind all week but now you're here in front of him it's like your mind is blank.
"Did you tell anyone?"
Yoongi blinks. "Namjoon's secret? I said I wasn't going to say anything—"
"No. Our secret. Us..." It feels foreign, referring to Yoongi and yourself as a unit. You hate to admit it makes your heart beat a little faster. "Namjoon knows."
Yoongi's coffee cup clatters to the table and words rise like bile in your throat, everything you've been bottling up inside tumbling out before you can stop it.
"Namjoon knows! He found out about us somehow and now everything has gone to shit and...I shouldn't even be telling you this! God I'm an idiot! I just don't know what to do—"
Your wailing is interrupted suddenly by a warm hand covering your own. Yoongi's hand. The touch is gentle, comforting, something about the squeeze of reassurance it provides calming your hyperventilating. It feels right.
Why does it feel right?
Yoongi must misinterpret the puzzled look you flash him as a warning he's crossing a boundary because he retracts his arm jerkily, a flush creeping up his neck.
He glosses over the weird moment hastily.
"Slow down, go back. He knows?" There's a lilt of surprise to his voice. Either he's a really good actor or he is just as panicked as you by this news. "And you think I told him?"
"Well, not exactly. He knows some of it — not everything! — he thinks that I just spoke to you after the show...I assumed you would have filled in the blanks by now."
Yoongi laughs breathily. Relieved. It flummoxes you. Shouldn't he be satisfied that his plan to get under Namjoon's skin was a success?
"Y/N, there were hundreds of people at the gig, anyone could have seen us. Jimin and Hoseok probably told him. You act like I tried to seduce you just to get revenge, or something." He gulps back the last of his coffee and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before his expression suddenly turns serious. "You don't think that right?"
"Isn't that exactly what you did?"
Say no.
Yoongi opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He doesn't deny it.
Something in your chest twists with disappointment. It scares you shitless and you know you have to end this — whatever this is — before there's no turning back.
"Look, it — we — were a stupid mistake okay? I need to know that you're not going to use this against him. It would kill him."
"Mistake?" Yoongi's face drops. "Didn't I say you could trust me?"
It sounds somewhat pained, like he wasn't expecting you to think so lowly of him. His eyes soften with a certain gentleness now and you almost feel bad for thinking they could ever look at you with sinister intentions.
"Do you regret it? What we did?"
You hesitate. You want to say no so badly. But that's not why you came here.
Pull yourself together!
"Yes."
He raises an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"
"Do you regret it?"
"No." His eyes glint. You can't breathe. "Which is exactly why I'll never say a word. I don't play that way. Fair and square remember?"
You're speechless. All you can get out is a measly oh as you stare at the coffee in your cup and process.
"What did Namjoon say anyway?"
Your fingers find the patterns carved into the surface of the wooden table top, feeling the grooves as a distraction from the embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He told me not to come back and find you."
A wry smile creeps across his face. "But you did?"
Even Yoongi is accusing you now? God, you played right into his hands. He's probably enjoying this. That you broke Namjoon's trust again, all for him.
The worst part is that you can hardly bring yourself to care. Sitting with Yoongi still feels deliciously indulgent — seeing his face again, feeling the heat of his body where your knees brush under the table finally satisfying a craving that had been growing inside you since that night in his studio.
"He doesn't control me."
He just nods. "I get that." His fingers tap in time with the sickeningly happy radio tune that plays overhead, eager to change the subject, like he's aware that he already said too much. "How is Namjoon anyway? You written him a song yet?"
Not allowed. If any information gets leaked about Namjoon's Mic Drop stage the first person he'd blame was you. You had to keep your lips tightly sealed.
You shrink back into your seat. "You know I can't tell you that."
"Okay, then." Yoongi throws his arms over the back of his chair, a cheekiness in his voice, like he's testing the waters to see how you'll react. "Ask me something instead. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Shoot."
That's allowed, right? Where's the harm. If it doesn't involve Namjoon then it can't hurt him...
"Okay..." You purse your lips, eyes travelling around the dimly lit coffee shop. "Why do you work...here?"
Yoongi nods to the stack of damp flyers beside him. Live classical piano. "I play piano here sometimes." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. It's kinda cute. "Needed some spare cash and this was the only place that could take me at such short notice."
"You play piano?"
He nods and you follow his gaze to the grand piano stood unoccupied in the corner. You imagine how Yoongi would look bent over the keys. How his fingers would move across the instrument with concentrated precision. How the tune would mingle with the warmth of the coffee shop on a cold evening.
"I didn't know you like classical music?"
"I don't. Not really." He cocks his head, finding the right words. "Namjoon has investors right? People who just throw money at him?" You nod, somehow ashamed. "Teaching me to play piano was my mom's investment in me. She always said it might come in handy some day."
You nod. "And do you have to wear that stupid costume every time?"
"This?" A snort leaves you when he shoots you a look, a shy smile finding the curve of his lips. "Don't mean to brag but it's a huge hit with the older ladies."
You can't help but laugh when he smugly tugs at the bow tie around his neck, unable to miss how his eyes light up. You share a smile that makes you feel light headed.
"I'd have to see it to believe it."
"Well, you know where to find me if you're ever bored and need a good laugh on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Friday evening." He shifts in his seat. "Or you could just come back to my place, y'know if you wanted to —" You frown, the easiness that had settled between you dissipating as you both sense the inappropriateness of his suggestion. "I know I shouldn't ask, it's just I have a piano and—"
For some reason the rational part of your brain taps out and your heart says fuck it.
"I'd love to."
--
"So, where do you live?" You ask when you finish your drink and nervously copy Yoongi who is already getting to his feet.
"Oh about that...I live in the apartment upstairs actually." He chuckles sheepishly."Cheap rent, you know?"
It takes you by surprise but you don't press.
"Oh. Right."
Yoongi extends a hand towards you. The thud in your chest gets faster when you slide your palm into his and he pulls you behind him to the foot the stairway you had disregarded upon entry, the distressed baby blue door at the top labelled RESIDENTS ONLY seeming strangely inviting.
Yoongi gestures for you to go first and you've barely ascended three steps before a voice rings out behind you, making you freeze like a child caught in a mischievous act.
"Use protection you two! And close the door so that Odengie's innocence isn't compromised this time!"
The barista from before rounds the corner, a tray of empty mugs in his left hand and a cloth for wiping down tables in the other.
You suppress a laugh. "Odengie?"
"His goddamn sugar glider—" He says it more to himself rather than in response to your query, flashing the tousled haired boy an exasperated look. "Really, bro?"
The other man either doesn't notice or doesn't care. "What? He's too young to learn how baby sugar gliders are made." His eyes suddenly flit to you and, as if remembering his manners, he deposits the cloth onto a nearby table and reaches a damp hand through the staircase to shake yours with a friendly smile. "I'm Jin, by the way."
You take it cautiously, wiping your now wet hand on the back of your jeans. "Nice to meet you?"
"Come on," Yoongi is flushed red as he pushes you up the rest of the stairs with a pressure at the small of your back. "We'll be back down in a minute, chill okay?"
Yoongi shoulders his way into the apartment, pulling you across the threshold alongside him, but not before you catch a glimpse of Jin's teasing grin poking around the staircase, words reaching your ears before Yoongi could slam the door shut in time.
"Oh, so it's a quickie? Have fun!"
A laugh escapes your lips, Yoongi pressing his back to the door with a sigh of relief. "Sorry about him. He's my roommate. Kind of came with the apartment, you know?"
You glance around at the small maisonette that unfolds before you curiously. It feels more like a dorm room, a mismatch pile of shoes piled at the entry way, a pair of beanbags substituting a couch surrounding a small gaming set up littered with empty pizza boxes you presume belong to Seokjin.
"Ah. He's part of the furniture then."
The other corner of the room is littered with an assortment of vinyls strewn out beside a pair of speakers and a record player, the needle still hovering over the grooves of an album by an artist you don't recognise. Yoongi's touch to the decor, you suppose.
"Guess you could say that. He's not so bad once you get over the uh...small rodents."
You trail behind Yoongi into what you assume is his bedroom, if the frameless mattress which lay on the floor in the corner beneath the window with sheets unmade and strewn across the floor messily was anything to go by.
He flicks on the set of fairy lights tacked to the wall, a surprisingly homely touch that makes you think Yoongi isn't as cold as you believe him to be.
Yoongi approaches a clothes rack stuffed with a variety of stage outfits. "Here." He pulls an oversized hoodie from one of the hangers, throwing it at you from across the room. "You're clothes are still wet. Wouldn't want to catch a cold. You can wear this until they dry."
"O-Okay." You stand there dumbly. He isn't expecting you to strip right in front of him, is he?
He seems to sense your hesitance, turning around so his back is to you with wide eyes. He plays it off by grabbing a selection of clothing for himself, shuffling past you with eyes trained to the ground. "I'll use the bathroom. Tell me when you're done."
You are soaked through to your underwear but you leave them on since Yoongi probably didn't have a spare pair of panties laying around you could borrow. The fabric of his hoodie is soft and warm when it slips over your otherwise bare skin and you breath in the woody scent that seems to embrace your entire body, ignoring the way it makes your head dizzy, and roll up the large sleeves to free your hands before calling to him that you are done.
When he re-enters the room, pulling a grey beanie over his head haphazardly to match the much more Yoongi appropriate outfit of a simple white tee and sweats, his breath hitches at your bare legs peeking out from the bottom of the garment. His lingering stare makes you hug your torso self consciously, eyes never leaving you even as he grabs the pile of sodden clothing you discarded earlier and lays them neatly over the radiator to dry.
You practically hear the way he swallows awkwardly when his eyes lock with yours, caught in the act. He's quick to lighten the mood.
"Well...here she is."
You turn as he moves across the room to the piano occupying the opposite wall, wood stained dark but bleached slightly in places by the stream of sunlight which washes its surface from the opposite window. The stool beneath it scrapes against the scuffed floor boards when Yoongi makes enough space to seat himself on top of the blue velour cushion.
"I know it's not much — nothing like you're used to I mean, but it makes music just the same."
He must take the way you hang back near the door frame as a sign of your distaste which couldn't have been further from reality; it's simply to allow you to study the way Yoongi sits with his back perfectly straight, fingers lingering over the keys like he knows the piano as well as an old friend. And, though you'll never admit it, the way your heart thumps at the thought of being in Yoongi's most private space.
"Where did you get it?"
"It was my mother's." The breath you suck in is slightly too harsh. "Like I said earlier, she liked to play, before she..."
Died. The word never passes between his lips but it sits heavy in the air like a weight.
Yoongi's eyes avert yours so you don't press any further, instead focusing your attention to the pattern of scratches embedded into the piano's lid, unable to help the way your fingers trace the coffee cup rings littering the surface like rugged halos. "It's beautiful."
The side panel is littered with lines, carved deeply into the wood with a penknife; a makeshift height chart like the one you had on the back of your bedroom door as a kid. Your drop to your knees to squint at the nearly illegible words scrawled next to the markings that ascend almsot to the top of the instrument.
Yoongi aged 3...Yoongi aged 4...Yoongi aged 5...
All the way until Yoongi aged 7 where they stop completely.
You frown but he lets out a soft laugh, somewhat pained. "That's when she got sick. I grew up quickly after that."
Straightening up, you swallow thickly, unsure what to say, so you just settle for changing the subject instead.
"So, what can you play?"
Yoongi fiddles with the open sheet music book on the piano stand. His fingers tremble slightly as he turns the worn pages before finally settling on a sheet that is lightly crumpled and ripped around the edges and coffee stained and ferociously dog eared at the corners. Tell tale signs that he had played this piece before, over and over again.
His favourite, you perceive.
Sure, he had literally fucked you into next week already but your hands get clammy at the knowledge that Yoongi feels comfortable enough to share such an intimate tidbit about himself with you. Music means a lot to him after all. Anyone can see that.
You catch a glimpse of the piece over his shoulder.
Romeo and Juliet - Love Theme.
Yoongi notices how you raise a brow at his choice.
"I know I said I don't like classical music but this arrangement is different. You know the story right?"
High school had given you enough general knowledge about Romeo and Juliet for you to nod in confirmation.
"It's like you can feel the passion they have for each other in every note, you know? Like nothing could ever come between them."
His words are so earnest they make your heart ache. You hadn't put him down as the hopeless romantic type.
"I mean not really. They still die in the end." You counter. He frowns.
"But only because of their fucked up families. It's their feud that comes between them in the end. This piece comes before all the shitty parts. If you play it over and over again it's like they never stop loving one another."
His hands fold in his lap and he sucks in a bashful breath, nose scrunching with embarrassment at his dramatic outburst. "It's stupid. I know. Forget I said it."
"No, no I understand completely. Maybe if they weren't so busy fighting they could have listened to their hearts. Right?"
"Right." He scoots across the piano stool, patting the empty space beside him with an encouraging look. "Sit."
Like a magnet you find yourself drawn to his side, shivering when his shoulder brushes yours. His arms hover over the piano, poised and relaxed, concentration etched into the hard lines of his face.
"Ready?"
You can only nod. And then he starts to play.
Yoongi's fingertips eagerly caress the keys of his piano, eyes lifting from the sheet music to gauge your reaction while his hands carry the melody on autopilot, the pretty silver rings he dons glinting with every movement. His neck is bent slightly, allowing his head to bob and sway along with the rise and fall of the rhythm, eyes screwing shut as the composition reaches its most pivotal sequence.
He's practically raking the keys now, pure passion and violent emotion splashing every inch of the room. You shut your own eyes, hands clutching the bottom of the stool until your knuckles whiten, like you might float away with the beautiful tune if you don't ground yourself.
When he said you could feel passion with every note he wasn't wrong. You could feel his passion clear as day.
Slowly, he comes back down from his high, wrists coming to a standstill. All he can do is take in heaving, ragged breaths, body slumped down, spent with the sheer effort expelled in his performance. Oxygen is lodged in your own lungs as you take in how how his bangs stick to the beads of sweat prevalent on his forehead
You recover before he does, unconsciously fumbling around in your tote bag, hands curling around the Polaroid camera you bring everywhere just in case a photo opportunity arises.
They never usually do. Until now.
"Stay like that." The viewfinder raises to your eye and you snap a shot of him with precision, the soft click that emanates through the room making Yoongi's eyes snap open.
The picture dispenses from the camera, black square fading out to reveal a hazy image as you shake it back and forth. Yoongi, face relaxed, lashes pressed softly to the tops of his cheeks with a lazy smile.
It's the Yoongi you remember. Your Yoongi.
He smirks when you slide it into the back pocket of your jeans, cheeks glowing with a contentedness you hadn't seen for a long time. "You always did like taking pictures of me."
"Shut up."
When your hand tentatively closes over his where it still rests on the piano, it's his turn to shoot you a curious look. With a shaky breath you flip his palm, slotting your fingers together perfectly, and lean across the piano to press your lips against his.
His mouth is softer than you remember, not attacking with the rich taste of lust but rather caressing your lips gently, sweetly. Taking your time to commit each tickle of breath against your nose, each slide of his bottom lip between yours, to memory. Everything other than the dizzying sensation of his tongue tracing your bottom lip disappears. All your worries, reluctances, regrets,  just dissolving like the setting sun.
Everything feels safe here with him. Everything feels right.
It barely lasts a minute, not much more than a delicate brush really, but when he pulls back you are already breathless, immediately starved of the satisfaction that came from finally feeling him against you again, tasting the spearmint mixed with something so inherently Yoongi you didn't quite realise how much you were craving.
Yoongi sighs blissfully. You need more.
Your hands tangle in the front of his T-shirt but before you can pepper his mouth with a series of further eager kisses, his free hand plants on your shoulder and pushes you back carefully.
"About what you said the other night." His eyes are wide with concern, trained to your lips, resisting the urge to capture them again with all his self control. It made your heart flip. "I don't want to hurt you Y/N. We don't have to do this—"
"I want to. So bad." His thumb caresses your knuckles. "I trust you."
In that moment, it's true. You trust him more than you've ever trusted anything in the world.
"But Namjoon..."
His words fade out when you lean in for another reassuring peck. Namjoon's name falling from Yoongi's lips doesn't make your skin crawl like it usually did. In fact you feel nothing at the mention of your brother.
"To hell with Namjoon. I'm a big girl. I know what I want."
Yoongi grins, hand coming to cup your cheek tentatively, eyes crinkling with what you could only describe as liberation. "And what's that?"
Your eyes narrow in on his parted mouth again.
"You."
His eyes darken and then his hands are tangling in your hair and pulling your chest flush to his in a kiss that is far rougher than before. No more beating around the bush. Just passion as you crawl into his lap and kiss him like it's the first time — or perhaps, more accurately, the last time. Like the world will end if you part for a single breath.
Fingers find the hem of his shirt and you're pulling it up his torso greedily, heart beating a little faster when you feel his warm skin beneath your fingertips. His chest is softer than you expect, a perfect contrast to the strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you back to his lips.
It's not long before you feel his pants fill out underneath you. The feeling is all too familiar, reminding you of how it felt to be above him like this in his studio. That night feels like a life time away as his hands grab your hips and press you roughly down onto his crotch.
You both groan out at the feeling, something intense, something primal, heating up between your legs as you circle his clothed length, want and need blending into one as your core dampens with every twist of your hips.
Yoongi breaks away from your lips with a gasp when your fingers reach between your body and find the sensitive head of his cock, a wet patch forming on his sweats. His eyes are shut, head thrown back against the piano top as he bites into his thumb to stop little moans tumbling from his swollen lips.
He shoots upright when you slide down his torso, hardwood cold against your bare knees, fingers fumbling with the strings of his pants. When you finally get them open and slip your hand beneath the waistband, Yoongi all but groans at the feel of your cool palm grabbing his hot cock skin on skin.
You shimmy his sweats around his thighs, mouth practically watering as you eye up his pulsing length, unable to resist stroking it firmly with your fist. A hand covers yours.
"Wait!" A strangled noise of agony rips from his chest when your grip loosens, desperate to buck up into your touch but managing to stay firmly planted to the stool in favour of gaining your consent. "Are you sure?"
You scoff teasingly. "Would I be on my knees if I wasn't?"
His laugh is breathy, half a moan as you pick up your pace again. "Just nervous — ah!" A soft kitten lick to the reddened tip of his cock has him flying forward, knuckles white as they grip your shoulder.
"Min Yoongi gets nervous?" The precum that coats your tongue is salty, makes you itch to take him into your mouth fully.
"Shut up." His breathing is ragged, hands hovering over your hair. "Didn't think this would happen again. Needs to be perfect — holy fuck Y/N."
You give no warning before you sink down on his length, his hands finally tangling in your hair and tugging lightly when your nose presses to his pubic bone, groaning around him when you feel the head of his cock pulsing in the back of your throat.
"So warm, shit."
You come up for air, lips wrapping around his head and enjoying the way his thighs trembled when your tongue runs teasingly along the underside of his cock. His hand pushes at the back of your head, forcing his length further down your throat than you're expecting until you gag around his girth.
"Shit, sorry."
The groan that follows doesn't sound very apologetic though. The visual of your drool coating his painfully hard length mixed with the sensation of your warm mouth engulfing him whole nearly has him blowing his load then and there, utterly fucked out and oblivious to the string of groans leaving his lips when you finally come up for air. Tears streak your cheeks and Yoongi wipes them away with his knuckle tenderly.
"God, look at you." He's breathless, amazed. "C'mere."
A hand cups your elbow, pulling you to your feet so he can connect your lips again, humming when he tastes himself on your tongue. His hands are all over you now as he wraps you in his arms and stumbles backwards your back is pressed to the mattress in the corner. It dips in the middle when he crawls over you, tucking away strands of hair that fan around your face like a halo before his mouth is on you again like he can't quite help himself.
A series of open mouthed kisses caress your jaw, then your neck, all the way down your chest. Yoongi's eyes flick up to watch your face, lips parted with want as his hands fiddled with the hem of his own much too big hoodie swaddling your body.
"Can I?"
Your hand threads into his hair encouragingly. "Please."
A gasp passes his lips when he finally pulls the fabric over your head, eyes following his curious calloused hands as they explore the expanse of skin exposed to him now you're left in just your bra and panties.
"So beautiful." He traces his fingers down your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach. The light and delicate touches have you shivering, writhing for more. Almost as desperate to feel him everywhere as he is to worship every inch of you.
His touch stops at the hem of your panties. You're already working on the clasp of your bra, a violent nod the only permission he needs to drag the fabric agonisingly slow down your legs, unhooking them from your ankles carefully.
When he looks back up you are completely bare, laid out beneath the stream of half-sun-half-moon bathing the room.
Yoongi pounces, lips wrapping around one of your nipples greedily, tongue swirling around the hardened bud until you're gasping his name over and over.
"Can't believe you're letting me see you like this."
Hands wrap around your thighs, legs falling open, the way he licks his lips as he takes in your glistening heat not going unnoticed.
Yoongi's head shakes in disbelief, mumbling words which sound an awful lot like so pretty and fucking gorgeous as his head dips and he continues his trail of earlier kisses, tongue laving over your inner thighs and edging ever closer to your aching core.
"W-wait." Yoongi freezes and comes up to meet your face. His breath is hot against your cheek, eyes scanning your face for hesitation.
"What is it? Are you okay?" He's frantic, swallowing nervously as his palms cup your face. "Want to take care of you this time. What is it? Tell me."
"I'm fine. More than fine." You brush your noses together. It makes him smile. "Just want to feel you, that's all. Now."
Yoongi lets out a dramatic sigh, voice high and whiny. "But I've been dreaming about how you taste for days, Y/N. Literally. Dreaming about it."
You don't mention how you've been replaying the visual of his lips wrapped around your clit and edging you over and over again since it happened, just stroke his cheek in mutual understanding.
"Too bad. You'll just have to wait until next time." His features light up at the promise of a next time. Another moment like this, just you and him.
His face falls into the crook of your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin teasingly as a hand trails between your legs. When the pads of his fingers circle your entrance you whimper, clit throbbing with want when his hand pulls away nearly as quick as it came.
The want only intensifies when he brings two of his arousal coated digits to his mouth with closed eyes, guttural moan vibrating your flush chests when he savours the taste of your arousal coating his fingers.
"Next time." He hums and you are sure you nearly came untouched.
"Need you. Now."
He wastes no time taking his achingly hard cock into his fist, placing a supportive hand on your hip as he lines himself up with your entrance. You whine when he drags the tip up and down your slit, giving some brief but much needed stimulation to your clit.
Before he can push inside though you place a hand on his chest to stop him. He doesn't have time to dote on you again though because without further ado you're whipping off the beanie that still sits snugly around his head, throwing it across the room with a smirk.
His eyes glint fondly. "Whoops."
The room has grown darker by now, only lit by the gentle sparkle of the fairy lights and Yoongi has to feel around in the sheets to find your hand. In the same moment he tangles your fingers together beside your face, he pushes inside with a gasp.
Unlike the first time in his studio, Yoongi is in no rush. He wants to savour it. He fills you slowly, so that you can feel every ridge of his length dragging against your velvety walls. When he finally bottoms out and your hips press flush together, you squeeze his hand. Tight. It's this small action that tells him everything he needs to know. Explains the funny feeling in your chest without ever saying the words.
Your legs wrap around his back automatically when his hips begin to rock, angling your body so that he hits so deep with every thrust it steals the breath straight from your lips. Arousal drips from your heat down onto the bed sheets, making each slide deliciously smooth.
"Yoongi I.." It almost slips from your lips. The deepest, darkest secret that you haven't quite admitted to yourself yet.
Yoongi just ups his pace, exchanging words for actions to show you he feels the same. Fucking you a little harder, a little deeper. More sincerely. It compensates for the words neither of you know how to say.
"I know." You feel so full, so warm when he places his forearms at either side of your head to press you into the mattress. "I know."
All the yearning inside you disappears. All that matters is you and Yoongi now, nails scratching up his back, his forehead pressing to yours so that your moans mingle together until you can't tell whose was whose any more.
With a fucked out moan against your lips he's spilling inside you, sending you over the edge with him, hissing as you clench tightly around his cock.
All thoughts are wiped from your mind. Apart from the sensation of his cheek pressed to your chest, hot breath against your collar bone. How you can't believe you lived in a world without Yoongi in it. How you never want to go without him again. How you don't think you can deny how Yoongi makes you feel anymore even if you tried.
The stars behind your eyes fade, and when you come back down, Yoongi is hovering over your body, lips parted and eyes blown out, mesmerised. He's sweaty and smiling and you can feel the way his heart beats in time with yours.
"You okay?"
"Never better." His smile stretches into a grin when your words slur together. "—'m so happy."
A soft, chaste kiss is pressed to your forehead and before you know it Yoongi is tangling your legs together and wrapping the sheets around your bodies, entwined as one.
Me too. You knew that's what he meant. You'd dwell on it another time. For now your eyes are falling shut, satisfied as you inhale Yoongi's scent on the sheets...
Before a blissful slumber could take you away, you're interrupted by a series of knocks against the bedroom door. Both you and Yoongi shoot upright, exchanging a puzzled glance.
"I thought you said it was gonna be a quickie. Come on man, I need to use the bathroom!"
Yoongi groans into the pillow.
"That's it. I'm getting a new roommate."
--
As the weeks go by you start spending less and less time at the Big Hit office, turning up late to your shifts or clocking out before they were up. The perks of being employed by your parents is that they can't fire you in good conscience, you suppose.
Instead you increasingly find yourself at Yoongi's apartment, writing lyrics at the piano when he was around (sometimes even when he wasn't) or down in the coffee shop, helping yourself to hot chocolate refills on your work breaks. Jin joked that you'd need to start paying rent soon.
Just like how you were able to pick apart each of the boys' influence on the apartment the first time you went there, your own presence was becoming ever apparent.
In the way you spilled sugar on the counter when making tea and always forgot to clean it up, much to Jin's dismay. How some of your own hoodies and pyjama pants had begun to smell like Yoongi's washing powder, ending up folded neatly in his laundry basket and stowed away on his clothing rack like they belonged there. The way his piano top was littered with open notebooks filled with your messy scrawl and pens with the caps lost and half empty mugs stained around the rim with your chapstick.
Yoongi seemed wary at first, cautious to let you get too comfortable around him, dropping you home late at night once the lights in your house switched out and you knew it was safe to go inside.
But eventually he started to crave the little things that reminded him of you, unable to stop the smiles which crept onto his face as he loaded the dishwasher with the mugs and carried you to bed when you fell asleep at the piano stool.
Your bed. That's what you'd taken to calling it now.
Yoongi hated to admit that he was weak. When he got up on stage he was Gloss, hard faced and brazen and ruthless. But here with you, the facade he tried to uphold seemed to crumble into nothing. And the worst part was that he loved it.
Even when he was performing at the club or practicing for the competition, his thoughts always ended up wandering back to you. There were times when your schedules clashed or it was too risky to see each other or times you were simply too exhausted once you got home, falling into bed as soon as you crossed the threshold. But the knowledge that you were always there waiting for each other became the only safe place he knew and that was enough.
Of course you still had to oversee Namjoon's Mic Drop stage, it was your job after all, but that never seemed to come up when you were together. Just watching movies on his laptop or laughing at ungodly hours while you filled each other in on anecdotes that happened in the time you were apart, retreating beneath the sheets when Jin banged on the wall because it was four in the morning so would you please shut the fuck up.
For the first time in a long time you felt happy. Like you belonged somewhere that was all your own. No more answering to Namjoon or your parents. Just your own heart. And it always seemed to lead you back here to Yoongi, straight into his arms.
And as much as you hated yourself for it, you could feel your resentment for Namjoon growing. You'd be damned if you let him take this away from you, like he'd taken everything else.
Eventually, you stopped crawling through your bedroom window like a goddamn teenager and your parents stopped questioning why you never came home anymore. The cracks between you became a chasm. And right now, Yoongi was the band aid holding you together.
--
When Yoongi returns home later than usual, he's not even surprised when he ascends the stairs and find you and Jin laid out on the bean bags, already tipsy on red wine and giggling at his disgruntled expression.
That is until you take in the weary lines that had etched their way into his forehead, how his eyes look sunken and puffy. How his hands tremble against your waist when you pull him into your arms, body swaying back and forth lightly in your grasp like he could topple over any second.
You know what overworked looks like — after all, you had tended to Namjoon plenty of times when he refused to stop at his limits, barraging through them instead, a habit Yoongi also seemed to possess.
Ordered to stay on bed rest, Yoongi slumps face down into his pillow, letting out a long groan of relief when the mattress cushions his aching limbs.
You're already tucking him in, half way to the door to prepare him a hot cup of honey and lemon to soothe the husk in his throat from rapping too aggressively when his arms loop around your waist and pull you down to snuggle into the crook of your neck contentedly.
"Yoongi, let me go." It's futile, his grip is firm and he is already kicking the sheets over your body and pressing his cheek to the left side of your chest where you're sure he can hear how your heart races, a pout evident in your voice. "I want to take care of you."
"Mmf you are.." Words already slurring with the beginnings of sleep, he smiles groggily when you fall slack in his grasp and press your cheek to the top of his head in defeat. "Stroke my hair please?"
As soon as your fingers tangle in his blue locks he lets out a sigh of relief, like he'd been waiting to feel the touch all day.
Watching his face relax as he drifts off, you bask in the warmth of fulfilment singing your very nerve ending and silently wish that you can stay like this forever.
Just you and Yoongi against the world.
At some point your own eyes fall shut.
--
You're awoken by the sounds of muffled sobs.
The dark room momentarily disorientates you, heart quickening as you realise you're not in your own bed. Eventually your eyes adjust to the blackness, taking in the piano stood sturdily in the corner, breathing in the scent lingering on the pillow beneath your cheek and you're washed with a wave of comfort.
"Yoongi?" You croak.
The sheets are ripped from your body as Yoongi's form shoots upright. His bare back is damp with sweat, visible in the moonlight creeping through the slanted blinds, mattress rocking slightly with every sob that wracks his frame.
"Go back to sleep." His voice is gruff , but forcibly so and you hear the tremor lurking below the surface.
You sit up beside him. His face is buried in his palms. The sight makes your heart ache.
"Are you okay?" You're still new to this. Sure you're tangled up in his sheets most nights but you're still learning the ropes, unsure how best to comfort him. You settle for gently patting his shoulder, wincing at how cold and distant the action feels.
"I said go back to sleep." When his face emerges from between his hands you see the tell tale tracks of tears streaking his cheeks. Even when he wipes his face with the back of his palm there's a steady stream of them dripping down his chin.
"Is that what you really want?"
Yoongi presses his mouth together in a tight line, eyes black and empty as he tilts his head back and takes a shaky breath. That's when he crumbles. "Please stay."
"Oh, Yoongi." It's barely a whisper, afraid that if you speak too loud he'll shatter into a million pieces. He's like a scared kid, knees hugged to his chest as he wipes the hot tears from his eyes with a hard rub of his knuckles.
Yoongi stiffens when you fumble under the sheets to find his hand. You think he might pull away as you link your fingers with his but to your surprise he pulls your interlocked palms into his lap and squeezes so hard you feel the circulation in your fingers cutting off. The way he chokes back another sob stops you from complaining though, already cupping his cheek and tilting his face towards yours with your free hand.
"Why are you doing this?" His eyes squeeze shut, fresh tears sliding down his face and doing nothing to hide the slight tinge of red beneath them that tell you he's embarrassed to be seen like this. Vulnerable, so unlike the hard faced Yoongi you had come to know.
"Because I want to." You squeeze his hand and feel him squeeze back weakly. "You can tell me anything, you know."
Pressing his forehead to yours, Yoongi leans down and captures your lips between his own. I know, it says.
This is different to the way he usually kisses you. There's no hunger, no hands on your neck and your thighs that set you alight with desire. Just a sense of yearning, like he wants to be closer to you, the plump flesh of his lips slotting between yours like a perfect puzzle piece, slightly salty from his tears. It makes you ache all over, like you're somehow connected and sharing his pain.
He pulls away, sharp exhales tickling your face as he scans your eyes for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you're going to leave him here alone. This is side of Yoongi that you have never seen before. He always said he isn't good with words and you know better than anyone that he hated admitting that he needed someone. This was is his way saying he needs you.
And in that moment you feel a piece of your heart flutter into his hands.
"Nightmares." He mumbles, swallowing thickly and tipping his head back against the headboard, expression pained "Just nightmares."
"Want to talk about it?" You sit back next to him, and when he rolls his neck to face you. He looks unreadable again. Eyes void. You half think he's going to push you away, turn over and fall back asleep and leave you to stare at the ceiling alone with the silence.
But he doesn't. Instead he lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head at himself as he pulls you into his arms, stroking your cheek fondly when your head comes to rest on his chest, burying his nose in your hair.
"Why can't I say no to you?"
"Guess I have that affect on people."
He snorts lightly, the first proper reaction he'd given you and you're pleased at his amusement. Pleased you were able to comfort him somewhat.
Unspoken words cloak a heavy silence for what feels like hours, just tracing mindless patterns on his arm and listening to the way his heart slows to a normal pace beneath your cheek, grip around your torso never faltering. When his breaths dwindle to soft puffs against your temple you think he's already drifted off.
Until, "Do you remember when I convinced Namjoon to sign up for Mic Drop the first time. The day after my mom died?" His voice is gravelly, both with sleep and a sign of his withheld tears.
"Of course I do." You swivel in his arms to blink up at him curiously. Sure you remembered. After the funeral, your parents had taken Yoongi in — a repayment they called it. For helping Namjoon achieve his dreams. Of course, that was before you realised just how much Yoongi would help.
Yoongi became a part of the family for a short while. An extra seat at family dinners. Another pair of shoes by the front door. Another bed in Namjoon's room.
"Back then, I was too trusting. I thought that they wanted to help me...I thought that they saw me as their son." He spits the word with the bitterness of a man who was stripped of the title of 'son' before he knew what it really meant.
You think back to how Namjoon and Yoongi used to be. Joined at the hip, everyone used to say. Brothers.
"I think they did—"
"No." He stiffens. You bite your lip. "Namjoon never cared about me. He just saw me as a way to get to the top. And it worked."
You feel a pang in your chest.
"I'm sorry, he's your brother. I shouldn't be talking about this with you."
Yoongi almost turns away but you stop him by pressing your lips to his briefly. Telling him its okay. You understand.
"The nightmares." You say with an eagerness to change to subject before you could dwell on it too hard. Before you could admit to yourself that Yoongi was right. "You didn't say what they were about?"
"I'm getting there." He lets out a strained chuckle and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The action makes you shiver.
"The last time I saw my mother she said that she wasn't scared to die. She was just scared that she'd miss seeing me on the stage. She was the only one who believed in me." The next words come out choked. "She said that if she couldn't be there to see it then I needed to make as many goddamn people watch me lift that trophy as I could."
Mic Drop was never about the fame for Yoongi after all. It always ran deeper than that; a need not a want. A vulnerable promise left unfulfilled.
The realisation makes you blanch. All this time, all these years, you hadn't been able to see the real greed right in front of your eyes; your own brother.
The image of Yoongi, crumpled and broken on that fateful day all those years ago makes its way to the forefront of your mind.
The same anger flashes across his face now. "Namjoon took that from me. I don't care about the fans or the money or the trophy — none of that shit! He took my dream Y/N. Do you understand how that feels?"
You find yourself nodding, slowly at first and then with vigour as the dam inside you breaks and your own tears flood. "I do. I understand."
And you do. You understand why Yoongi is so determined to win Mic Drop. You understand why he hates Namjoon as much as he does. You understand how it feels to always fall second best to Namjoon, to be outcasted.
"I keep forgetting her face. I can't hear her voice in my head anymore." Yoongi's crying again now, heavy sobs no longer able to be contained. "But in the dreams she's so clear. The disappointment in her eyes, its so clear, Y/N." His words are interrupted by hiccups that leave him gasping.
"I'm sorry." You whisper once he calms. It's all you know how to say.
"Not your fault." He flashes you a watery smile, wiping away the tear on your cheek with his knuckle. It makes your heart flutter, even despite the guilt weighing on your shoulders.
You feel useless. It wasn't your fault directly but you couldn't help but feel like you wronged Yoongi. All of this happened right in front of your eyes but you were too blinded by Namjoon's broken promises to see it. All this time you had let Namjoon make you think Yoongi was the enemy.
"I'm here now." Hands plant on either side of his face, eyes meeting his. "I believe in you."
He doesn't need to say anything. The way he kisses you speaks louder than words.
All you can do now is hold him, tangling your legs with his and pulling the covers over your intertwined bodies, stroke his cheek with your thumb and pepper kisses to his strained forehead which relaxes beneath your affections.
"I'll make this right." You whisper into his hair after his eyes flutter closed and the sun starts peeking through the window, watching dust particles floating in a stream of light in the room's golden glow through lidded eyes. "I promise."
--
"I like this." Jimin nods enthusiastically along to the track playing through the headphones Namjoon placed over his ears. "Sounds like a hit to me."
Namjoon's face contorts into a scowl. He disagrees, obviously, if the disgusted shake of his head is any indication.
Mic Drop is just a few days away and Namjoon had decided to scrap his entire stage after Jimin scored a couple big last minute investors who suggested he do something new, something exciting. Something that pushed Runch Randa's limits.
It was a bold move, this close to the big day. But Namjoon was cocky, said that he had enough experience in the industry to win in his sleep. Practice was a waste of time anyway.
"Next one." He waves his hand, barely even glancing in your direction as you press a button that cuts off the track and makes another one start playing.
The bass is louder in this one and it makes Jimin startle backwards, the headphone jack slipping loose so the music plays through the speakers instead.
"Hoseok and I still need to put the finishing touches on this one but it's pretty catchy—"
Namjoon cuts you off with a sharp no, it was too upbeat for his Mic Drop performance. Said he needed something with grit, something that would make the judges feel something.
"Let me see that." He gestures for you to get up, slumping down into the chair you occupied and slotting himself beneath the studio desk to scroll through the open folder on the computer screen.
He skims through countless tracks, demoed and ready to be recorded at Namjoon's disposal — you were something of a writing machine, always scribbling down lyrics on receipts from the store or on the back of your hand and paired with Hoseok you were a dream team; he always seemed to find a beat that fit perfectly. Unfortunately Namjoon's straight face gives away his disinterest in any of them.
"None of these will work." Namjoon throws the keyboard down with a force that makes you wince, jaw tightening as he presses his knuckles to his eyes in frustration. "I'm going to fucking lose."
You are about to tell him to write the fucking track himself like everyone else if none of yours were good enough for him but Jimin flashes you a glance. Don't make things worse.
You settle instead for a hand on his shoulder. He tenses at your touch. It had been a while since you'd been in the same room for longer than ten minutes and when you take in the gauntness of his cheekbones you briefly wonder if he's been eating properly. He always did forget when you weren't around to remind him.
You suck in a breath to give you strength. "There must be one that you like."
His lips purse and he disgruntledly goes back to scrolling again, clicking on a couple titles that draw his interest. You and Jimin let out simultaneous sighs of relief.
"What's this?" Namjoon's eyes narrow as he presses play on a track that sends you flying forward, heart in your mouth and colour leaving your face as a song plays that you swore to never show to anyone.
Yoongi's song. The one you wrote after that night in his studio. Probably the best song you had ever written.
"That's not — I was supposed to delete that one." The heat in your cheeks as you push him aside roughly to wrestle with the pause button has you hiding behind your hair, as if he would somehow know this wasn't just an ordinary song. That it was a song about his enemy, for god's sake.
Namjoon's slaps you away from the computer, head bobbing to the beat and you fall back into your seat in defeat, fingers crossed behind your back that he would hate it as much as the others.
"I love it."
Oh no.
"This is the one!"
Shit shit shit!
"A-are you sure?" You're rambling now, words slipping out way too fast and Jimin seems puzzled at your lack of elation at Namjoon's decisiveness. "I'm sure I could write something much better if you just give me some more time—"
Namjoon's arms pull you into a tight embrace before you can finish, your nose ending up smushed against his chest as he practically vibrates with excitement. Your body goes stiff, hands dangling at your sides awkwardly. Considering Namjoon's coldness towards you as of late his sudden display of affection takes you by surprise. Mostly because despite your physical closeness it only makes you feel even more distant from your brother.
A sigh of relief escapes when he finally sets you free, only to be replaced with pure horror as you watch him stick a USB drive into the computer and load up the song before sliding it in his back pocket with a grin while you have no choice but to stand there helplessly.
"I'm totally gonna win!" His change in attitude is abrupt but seems to soothe Jimin who nods enthusiastically. You feel sick. "I can't wait to see the look on Yoongi's face when he hears this shit."
The smirk on his face washes you with dread. If only he knew.
Yoongi was right. Secrets always find a way to come and bite you in the ass.
--
Every rap of your knuckles against the run down studio door seems to echo ominously through the alley like an omen.
"Y/N?"
As soon as the bolt wrangles across and the wooden panel flies open to reveal a disgruntled Yoongi, a warmth seems to thaw through the icy evening chill that, along with your nerves, is making your knees knock together.
His chest is warm against your cheek when he pulls you into his arms, the smell of cologne and black coffee consuming your senses. It's enough to make your tense limbs fall slack, curling into his firm frame instinctively. Finally. You can breathe again.
"Hey." He mumbles sweetly against your temple, a trace of a smile in his voice like he was happy to see you. You silently wonder if he'll still be so happy once he hears what you have to say.
The studio is basked in darkness, the contours of his face barely visible in the blue glow emanating from his desktop monitor. There's a dent in the cushion of the adjacent chair, Yoongi's hair sticking up at the back where the pair of headphones slung around his neck had sat moments ago.
"I can go if you were working, wouldn't want to interrupt." As the words are leaving your lips you cross your fingers, selfishly hopeful that he would send you away and you could avoid the conversation that was about to follow. Blame it all on circumstance, leave saying that you at least tried.
But that would be keeping a secret. It would make you just as bad as the rest. And the thought of him finding out from someone else was enough to make your palms sweat and enough to keep your feet planted against the carpet determinedly.
Yoongi's hands find you like he can't bare to keep them away, dragging you across the threshold without hesitation. "S'fine. Work better with you here anyway." He smiles and you try to return it but your lips are pressed into a permanent line, like they're scared the daunting words you have to say will come spilling out before you were ready -- if you ever would be ready. As you slump into a chair and watch him wheel another one around to face you with his arms slung lazily over the back, you realise there is no going back.
Considering the countdown to Mic Drop was nearing its end, less than twenty four hours to go before Yoongi would be stood opposite Namjoon on stage in front of thousands, he looked the epitome of relaxation, unlike the nerves in your chest making you jitter.
"Jin's on his way with takeout, I would've asked him to get more if I knew you were coming but I'm sure we can share— babe, are you alright?"
Babe. The endearment had started slipping from his lips frequently recently. At first he tried to cover it up with nervous laughter but now he was brazen, enjoying the way the word tasted on his tongue. It would be so easy to force a smile, to push "the right thing" to the back of your mind and let the selfish part of your heart accept his affections, even knowing you're about to hurt him.
But the clock ticking away on the wall sounds deafening with every beat of silence that follows, twisting the rings on your fingers until you could no longer distinguish the sound from the sinister thrum of your heart.
You can't hold it in any more.
"I need to tell you something." It comes out a hoarse whisper, nearly unintelligible beneath the stream of hip hop from the hifi system in the corner.
"What is it?" Yoongi's concerned eyes never leave you as he reaches over to switch it off, the room now draped in a shroud of quiet. The reality of the situation seeps into every dark corner and right into your bones.
"It's about us. Kind of."
Yoongi rolls closer, stopping your teeth from nibbling your cuticles by slotting his fingers between yours like a perfect puzzle piece. It seems to ground you, like you're filled with helium and he's the weight stopping your feet from floating off the ground. For a second you think everything will be okay. Nothing, not even this betrayal, could come between what you had.
"Did Namjoon find out?" Even in the dim light you see the panic stricken raise of his brows. When your head shakes in a violent negative they smooth back down, relieved, as if nothing you could say next would be worse than that. No matter how hard you try to meet his eyes you can't.
His hand squeezes gently then. You muster up the courage to squeeze back. Perhaps it would soften the blow that was about to follow.
"His song. The one I wrote for Mic Drop...it's about you. I thought you should know. Before you hear it for yourself."
Nothing but an immeasurable silence followed. "Oh."
Yoongi is unreadable, almost as if he didn't hear the words hanging like heavy storm clouds over your heads. You expected him to be angry, to shout -- even cry, maybe. Not knowing how he was feeling was even worse than any scenario you had imagined. Made you feel like you were back to square one and he was shutting you out of the window into his soul you'd worked so hard to wriggle through.
For a second you think the sudden cold against your palm is a result of the numbness coursing through your veins like you were dunked in ice water, but then you see his hand retreat to his lap, eyes wide and staring at it in disbelief like he'd been scalded.
"I...I don't understand." He sounds choked, face contorting with pain. Like it does when he wakes thrashing in the night with a bad dream. Unlike those times though, he doesn't levitate towards you for comfort, just stares at you vacantly like he's far, far away despite being physically close enough for your knees to brush.
"It was written after the first time we...y'know...here--" You glance around, convinced your mind is playing tricks when you see a vision of you in Yoongi's lap across the room, lips attached like nothing else in the world mattered. It feels far away and out of reach when the real Yoongi gets to his feet, creating a distance between you that is foreign, his form staggering across the room so that you could see the way his back tensed beneath his t-shirt when he grips the edge of his desk for support, processing.
"I don't understand."
"I was emotional. It just happened--"
"No. What I don't understand is why you're letting him perform it?" Fists send a stack of sheet music flying to the ground. His lip trembles, face red, with anger or affliction, you can't tell which.
"Yoongi--" You reach for him, fingertips barely grazing his arm before he's smacking you away with a violent shake of his head. He'd never resisted you before. Not even in the beginning.
"You expect me to just sit back and listen to Namjoon of all people rapping the lyrics my girlfr-- that you wrote dissing me? This has to be a fucking joke."
"It's not that kind of track!" You hug your body pitifully. It's the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling apart as his mouth spits a venom that makes your heart shatter. His eyes fill with one thing. Betrayal. "I'm sorry. I just...I can't keep choosing between you anymore, Yoongi. He's my brother."
"And what am I, huh?"
Every second that passes, every stutter or attempt at explanation that leaves your mouth makes Yoongi crumple. You see it in the way his adam's apple bobs, how his shoulders slacken.
For some reason you can't open up. Tell him he means more to you than anyone ever had. That you thought your heart might really break and bleed out on the carpet if he didn't feel the same way.
Instead you settle for, "Why are you so mad? It's my job! I had no choice."
Without warning he's rushing at you, trembling palms capturing your face and pressing his forehead to yours. His breaths shake, chest heaving as he battles internally with the words flying from his lips like a ghostly breath across yours.
"Because I fucking love you, Y/N! Can't you see it? I fucking love you and your bastard of a brother always finds a way to ruin things between us!"
His admission stuns you, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over in a silent stream down your cheeks.
He loves you. He loves you.
"Yoongi--" Words just won't come. Nothing feels right.
Because you love him too. It had taken you this long to admit it to yourself but it was clear now. Every breath, every beat of your heart, every fucking song you would ever write was for him. It scared you before but now, stood here in front of him, you know it's true.
Something hopeless niggles at the back of your head, stops you from spilling everything to him. If he loves you, how can he expect you to choose?
If words couldn't make him see the truth then you'd just have to show him the only way you knew how. Straight from your heart.
You're crying as you dig around in the bottom of your bag to retrieve a USB, pressing it into his curled fist firmly and begging him with your eyes to understand. "Just listen to the song. Please. It'll explain everything. I promise."
You begin to back up and his hand shoots out to stop you, pulling you roughly into his chest which only makes you cry harder, tears creating a wet patch on his T-shirt.
"Please don't leave me. Not again." It's a fragile whisper.
It's all too much.
"I can't choose any longer, Yoongi. This has to end."
With one last look at his crumpled face you flee from his studio with eyes just as watery as the first time you'd walked down this very alley. Except this time it takes all of your strength to resist running back into his arms.
Yoongi can only stand there and watch you go, the USB hot against his hand.
This has to end. The words make his chest burn and he hates it. Hates feeling weak. You always make him feel so fucking weak.
If he can't have you then he had no choice but to do everything in his power to make sure he got the next best thing.
Suddenly it all seemed clear. Yoongi knew what he had to do.
--
The arena is almost desolate when you creep inside.
Just a sea of empty seats stretching out from both sides of you where you sit in one of the stands, nibbling the skin around your thumb and watching Namjoon pace the stage below.
It's gone midnight by now. Most of the crew went home hours ago. Not Namjoon though. He stayed to practice some more. Said he couldn't get the choreography quite right.
You tried going home but you couldn't get the fight out of your head. Everything reminded you of Yoongi and your thoughts started to wander. Did he hate you? Was he listening to the song right now? Why hasn't he called? Why is your own bed not as comfy as the one you shared with Yoongi?
It all got too much eventually. Something told you that you weren't welcome at the apartment so you ended up heading towards the only other place you knew, surprised to find your brother had the same idea.
A single spotlight illuminates the stage as Namjoon twists his body in time with the one, two, three, four he unconsciously mumbles under his breath, face contorted with a stark concentration that flits to impatience when his foot slips and he misses the beat. Again. It just about sends him over the edge.
"I can't do this anymore!" A microphone squeals and hits the ground with a thump. It reverberates through the arena, your hands flying to your ears as you watch Namjoon let loose all his anger on an innocent amp stand before collapsing into a heap at the edge of the stage. "Fuck this shit!"
You're flying down the stairs to his aid before he can do any serious damage to the stage equipment — or worse, to himself.
Namjoon scoffs when he hears the stage creak under your feet. "Nice of you to show up."
It stings. You snap.
"What happened to you, Namjoon?" You look at his sunken cheekbones, his curled fists, the blackness behind his eyes. "I don't even recognise you anymore."
He just sniffs and says nothing. The distance between you feels bigger than ever.
"Can I tell you a secret?"
A secret? Since when did Namjoon abide by a policy of honesty?
He takes your shocked silence as a yes.
"I'm calling first thing and dropping out of the competition."
Your world stutters to a standstill, breath knocked out of your lungs.
Dropping out?
"Shit Joon...if this is about Yoongi—"
He waves you off.  "No. This is about me."
You can't breathe. This can't be real. "I don't understand..."
"I've made up my mind. I can't do this any more. I used to love being up here you know?"
You follow his gaze, out over the empty arena. The last time you were here every seat was filled. You were down there, part of the crowd, packed into the cramped space with barely enough room to breathe.
Imagining how it must feel to be up here comes easy. If you close your eyes you can hear the screams, feel the body heat. Smell the sweat and the anticipation. See thousand faces looking up in awe. At you. It makes your blood run hot.
You much prefer being up here, you decide.
Namjoon brings you back down. "Now it just feels like a chore. I look out and all I see is disappointed faces. I can't pretend for them anymore."
"People travel miles to see you Joon! No one is disappointed."
"Not the fans. They love me. Well, Runch Randa, at least." He cracks a half smile. "It's me whose disappointed. In Kim Namjoon."
You always thought your brother was sure of himself. He's cocky, confident and above all fearless. It's his biggest strength (and his most irritating quality sometimes) but it's what you always admired most about him.
Clearly you didn't know your brother as well as you thought you did.
You bite your lip. "Why?"
He turns to face you, leaning back into his arms while he searches for the right words and, little to your knowledge, gathers the courage to confide in you.
"Because I re-entered Mic Drop for all the wrong reasons. I just wanted to prove myself, you know? Win for real this time, not just by default." He swallows. "But then I saw Yoongi perform. And to be honest? I saw you. I saw how much you care about the music. How you come alive when you're writing lyrics or when you're in the studio." His smile is woeful. "Im supposed to feel like that. But I don't. I never did. It's like I'm always asleep, y'know?"
You did know. Every time you lifted a camera. Every time you pressed the shutter and snapped another shot of Namjoon on stage you felt your soul grow exhausted.
It makes the distance between you and Namjoon close a little. For once you understand each other and you don't have to hide how you feel any more.
"I can't stop thinking that it's your name the fans should be screaming. Not mine. They deserve better than me."
"But you're the best performer I know!" You rush. It always seemed like he wanted to keep you out of the spotlight at all costs. "Why now?"
He lets out a deep sigh. "I'm a selfish person, Y/N. I thought I was protecting you from... all this." He gestures around him. "The late nights and the paparazzi and the criticism and a fucking manager on your back all the time." His eye roll makes you snort, sharing a brief smile at the image of hardworking Jimin mumbling into his headset like a man posessed.
He's quickly serious again though. "Fame comes with a price. But I realize now that the price is worth it if your hearts in the right place and...what I'm trying to say, Y/N, is that mine never was."
You let your chin fall into your palm. Huh. "So that's the big secret?"
"Actually...there's something else." He shifts nervously. "I know about you and Yoongi."
You freeze, scrambling to your knees with wide eyes. "Wait, Joon, let me explain—"
"Let me finish!" Namjoon brushes you off with a breathless laugh, nodding to himself, as if finally coming to a solid conclusion about coming clean when his eyes meet yours. "He's in love with you."
This time it feels like the whole world goes into overdrive. You forget how to breathe.
"What...how...huh?"
It's Namjoon's palm squeezing your knee reassuringly that brings you back down.
"He always was. Even back before things got messed up." A deep breath. Something was coming, you could tell by the way his eye twitched nervously. "That's why me and Yoongi fought. That's why I...I lied and said that I wrote the song the night of the Mic Drop final...accused him of plagiarism—" Your mouth gapes. "I know! I know. Don't look at me like that. I can see the irony."
It all makes sense now. She's a part of this, Namjoon, whether you like it or not.
The reason Namjoon sacrificed his best friend wasn't for fame but for your sake?
You want to fly at your brother, scream at him for keeping this from you for so long. For turning you against Yoongi. For keeping you from the only person to make you feel safe. Feel Happy.
But his eyes are void of anything other than regret and you can tell his betrayal had been playing on his mind all these years.
"Point is, I didn't want you to get hurt." He shuffles awkwardly, not knowing what to do with your silence. "That's not an excuse, I know. Do you hate me?"
"No." Your voice sounds small. His chest heaves with relief. "I just wish you had been honest with me before. Saved us a ton of trouble."
"I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was a shitty brother in the end anyway."
It's strange. Even after all the fights and the resentment and the goddamn secrets, you don't think Namjoon is a shitty brother. Sure, his actions and intentions were shitty there was no denying it. But now it's like the puzzle pieces finally click into place and the full photograph comes into view, crystal clear.
All this time, he just wanted to protect you, when you should have been protecting him. He was hurting too, you just never knew it.
"It's not too late, Joon. Just be happy for me okay? I think..." If Namjoon plucked up the courage to tell you his secrets then it was only fair that you did too. "I love him too."
A pinkish tinge caresses your face when you finally admit it, both out loud and to yourself.
You love Yoongi. And now all the cards are on the table there's nothing holding you back from it.
Now you just need to tell Yoongi.
"I know. You think I don't know who that song is about?" The grin that spreads across Namjoon's features is sincere."And I am. Happy for you, I mean."
Now the truth is out in the open it feels like your wounds are already beginning to heal. You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. It was time to forgive.
A thought suddenly strikes you. "So what are you gonna do now?
Namjoon fumbles in the back pocket of his jeans, thrusting something towards you. A polaroid picture. The same photo you'd seen at Yoongi's studio.
He kept it, too?
"This kid." His finger jabs at the innocent face of a younger Namjoon, arm wrapped around the shoulders of his best friend. "I didn't get enough time to live as him before I became Runch Randa. I think it's time to just live as Namjoon for a while."
"But what about Big Hit? It'll fall apart and mom and dad will kill you—"
"No it won't. They have you. I already talked to them, in fact. There's a stage with your name on it right here." He pats the ground. "If you want it, that is."
You blink, stunned. You? "I...I don't know if I can."
"I believe in you." Namjoon says. "And I'll be cheering you on from the front row."
You'd have to think about it long and hard but you can't help the grin that appears on your face. Things were going to be okay.
An urge rises in your chest to tell Yoongi this news. To see the way his face would light up as you started the journey to following your own dreams, like he always said you should.
You and Yoongi were going to be okay.
"Hey! Maybe I should try photography now I have some free time." Namjoon tugs at the camera strap around your neck, lifting his eye to the viewfinder and laughing when you cover the lens with your hands. "Damn I'm kinda good!"
You bump his shoulder teasingly, the belly laughter that spills into the arena feeling like the most natural thing in the world.
You're only interrupted by approaching footsteps. Jimin bursts into the arena.
"Namjoon," he pants. "I have some bad news."
--
It's compulsory for all competitors to attend the crowning ceremony. Even those who get disqualified.
RUNCH RANDA BLACKLISTED FROM COMPETING IN FUTURE HIP HOP COMPETITIONS AFTER PLAGIARISM SCANDAL SURFACES.
Just one of the devastating headlines that hit the media after the judges panel received an anonymous tip in the form of a USB stick that exposed Namjoon once and for all. The same USB that you pressed into Yoongi's hands just hours before Namjoon's disqualification.
RAPPER GLOSS TO SNATCH MIC DROP TROPHY IN SHOCKING REVENGE FOR HIS BRUTAL DEFEAT.
Namjoon reads it aloud in the back of the car. He laughs at the end but it does nothing to lighten the mood.
The windows are tinted but you can still see the hoards of fans lining the streets, eyes steeped in betrayal.
You should hear the way they boo as your brother drives past. You should hear the way they chant his name instead.
Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!
But you don't. You don't hear anything. You don't feel anything. All you can think of is the same three words, throbbing in your chest over and over again.
I love you.
Did he mean them at all?
"Y/N? Did you hear me?"
"Hm?" You look up. Namjoon's staring at you with concern.
"Your phone's ringing again."
It's no surprise when you pull out your phone and see a contact picture of yourself and Yoongi gracing the screen. He's been calling all morning. It takes every strength inside you to tap the red decline button.
"Aren't you gonna talk to him?"
Another call lights up the screen.
"Not like this."
With trembling fingers you shut your phone off all together.
--
Paparazzi cameras flash brazenly as you step out of the black company car, following Namjoon with your hood pulled tightly round your face. A hoard of body guards usher you through a back door to the arena. The main entrance is reserved for notable guests only, you learn.
While Namjoon's presence usually makes the room buzz with an electric energy, there's no excitement when he enters now. An awkward hush falls like a shroud as he elbows his way past pitiful stares. It's like someone died. In a way it's true; there's no trace of Runch Randa in Namjoon's hunched stance. Here, the dead still walks for everyone to see.
Jimin's waiting by the stage door. No words are exchanged as he slips passes into your hands. Namjoon's has a big red strike through the word TALENT, "guest" scribbled all too generously below it to match your own.
It's nearing show time. They're just waiting for you to take your seats, Jimin says, though you barely hear him. You're too busy imagining what you would do if you bumped into him right now, heart pounding whenever you catch a glimpse of blue or hear a laugh you're convinced you recognise.
Deep down you know exactly where you have to go to find him. To find Yoongi.
"I'll join you in a second, okay?"
Namjoon looks nervous, the first time you've ever seen him with such a severe case of the jitters. His smile is empty when you rub his forearm reassuringly. "Don't be too long. If I'm gonna do this I want you by my side."
You manage a smile. "Always."
With that, Namjoon takes a deep breath and pushes out into the life of the arena and you find your feet numbly carrying you down back corridors you know by heart until you reach his dressing room.
Your heart is blind, you think. Even now the shattered fragments ache for him, beat a little faster knowing he's just behind this door.
Why can't you go back to hating him, just like you did before? Deep down you know it's because you never really hated Yoongi. You don't think you ever could.
Forgiving him, though? Some wounds never heal, no matter how badly you want them to.
You pause outside the door. The stupid gold star that used to be there has been scraped off, replaced with a new name tag. Gloss. You put your ear to the wood. Nothing.
A deep breath and you find the handle. Should you burst in and give him a piece of your mind? Knock and enter politely? You can't help but scoff. Shouldn't he be the one coming to find you?
He calls your name before you can do either.
"Y/N?"
Fuck. Is hearing his voice supposed to hurt this bad?
You don't know what you're expecting when you turn around. Something different about him perhaps. A sign that he isn't the person you had grown to know. Grown to love.
But there he is. All messy blue hair and bitten lips and eyes a little red around the edges. Your Yoongi.
Your arms curl around your body like a band aid, holding you together. You can't crumble. Not now.
He looks stony but his eyes flicker with tender remorse when he sees the tears staining your cheeks.
His hands reach for you instinctively. The same hands that make love to his piano in the shitty apartment above the coffee shop. The same hands that could make you fall apart with even a delicate touch. You want to run into them so bad it hurts. But now they're stained red with betrayal and he chokes when you recoil.
Seconds feel like hours as you just stand there taking each other in like it's been years. It's only been a day or two. Maybe three? You can't remember. They all rolled into one meaningless blur of angry tears and insomnia.
You had a whole speech prepared for the moment you finally faced him again. But there are no words that feel right. You just need to know. If he meant every touch and every inside joke and those three words that make your heart soar despite how badly you want to hate him. And there's only one way to find out.
"Why did you do it?"
Your voice sounds timid and scared, like you feel. He winces.
"Y/N, let me explain—"
"Explain what?" Your voice raises shakily."How you lied to me? How you used me?"
He rushes towards you and it takes all of your strength to draw back, especially when his eyes look so frantic, so desperate. Like he's having one of his nightmares. It tugs at your heart because this time the nightmare is real and you're living in it.
"It's not like that—"
"Did you ever even want me? What about all that fair and square bullshit you told me huh?"
"Of course I wanted you Y/N...want you." His eyes fill with pain. "This wasn't meant to happen. I know how this looks but I just panicked!"
You rush at him, fists curled like that day in his studio except this time he doesn't stop you when you start hitting his chest, vision blurry.
"He was going to pull out! Namjoon was going to let you win! So that I could -- we could be happy!"
"What I...I don't understand?" His mouth gapes, processing. "But you didn't..." He swallows, like remembering is painful. "When I confessed, you didn't say it back. I thought we were over! I thought I had nothing to lose, Y/N. He had already won..."
You remember your words. I can't do this anymore. A misunderstanding that would never have happened if he just—
"Did you even listen to the song?"
His face drops at the mention of the song. "No." He looks like he might cry. "I was angry! I...I acted impulsively. I never got the chance..."
You bared your soul in that song in ways you never thought you could. He wasn't supposed to find out how you felt about him this way. Not here, when you're falling apart and there's nothing you can do to stop it. But it all comes tumbling out before you can change your mind.
"I wrote that song because I love you, Yoongi!"
Silence. He has to grip the wall to steady himself.
"Y-you love me?"
"I love you." The words feel indulgent on your tongue and even now as they hang heavy in the air and you're overcome with an indescribable combination of grief and longing, you mean them with every bone in your body.
You rush at him. You can't help it. Can't resist how your head falls into his chest and how you cry harder when you breathe in his scent one last time, sobs muffled by his hoodie. But he hears them, you know he does, because his hands are trembling when they pull you closer like you're fragile enough to break.
"I love you. So fucking much it hurts, Yoongi."
You're weak. You're so so weak.
You don't know why you do it but you grab his face with both hands and then you're kissing him. Showing him how much you need him, how much you mean your words. His hand cups your jaw like always and his lips press back with a tender desperation and you believe him. You believe that he loves you. Whole and true. Because in that moment, with his lips on yours, everything is okay. He's your Yoongi and you're his Y/N and he loves you.
But then you pull back and he's crying too and everything's broken and your heart goes numb.
"I'm sorry. God, Y/N I'm so sorry. If I could take it back I promise I would."
You muster up all the strength you can. You know what you have to do.
"I'm giving you a choice, Yoongi. You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over. For real."
He tries to kiss you again, grabbing at you frantically when you turn your cheek.
"Y/N, don't do this. We love each other. That's all that matters right?" He musters up the closest thing to a smile he can manage, like he's convincing himself more than he is you. "You don't have to—"
"No." You pull away from grip. It feels cold and wrong. "I have to do this. If you love me like you say you'll...you'll understand."
You turn but he grabs your wrist, pins you in place.
"I can't lose you to him again, Y/N. I...I already lost you once and I don't think I..."
The hard faced Min Yoongi you once knew is gone. All that's left is the vulnerable man in front of you who holds your heart in your hands with a grip so tight it scares you.
"He can't win...please."
You suck in a final breath.
"Please what? Don't make you choose between me and that stupid fucking trophy? You did this to yourself, Yoongi." You turn and this time he lets you. "The only person pushing me away is you."
"Y/N please, wait!"
You don't dare turn to look at him as you walk away. Not even when he pleads or you hear him fall to his knees, a strangled sob echoing down the hall. You're scared you might run back to him if you do.
You don't let yourself break down until you turn the corner. Yoongi doesn't follow.
--
"I'm okay." You assure Namjoon as you take a seat beside him inside the arena. It's a lie, of course. No amount of cold water splashed on your face in the bathroom could prepare you for this moment.
You're just in time. The ceremony is already starting. The host is taking the stage and the lights are dimming but you're too numb to care.
You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over.
Your decision is final. There's no going back. You've cried all your tears. You've said all that needed to be said. All you're left with now is a sickly feeling in your stomach as you look down at the trophy sat in a display case center stage.
We love each other. A slither of hope tugs at your heart strings. You barely manage to suppress it.
"Sorry! Excuse me!" The empty seat to your left sinks under the weight of Hoseok as he clumsily stumbles into the arena, late as always.
He offers you a smile which turns to a frown when you only stare past him vacantly, straining your neck to keep an eye on the stage.
A hand covers yours. You freeze at the contact, only relaxing when you peer through the darkness to find Hoseok staring at you gently. His voice is a whisper. "Whatever happens I'm here for you, okay?"
A wave of emotion crashes through you and you think you might cry again. You can't make your lips sound out a response but Hoseok understands and you feel a little stronger when you turn your attention back to the ceremony knowing you have someone by your side.
"As you all know there have been some...complications with this year's finalists." The host coughs and fiddles with his tie awkwardly. "But we are glad to announce that we do in fact have a winner here with us today!"
The crowd chants Yoongi's name again. Namjoon stiffens. Your free hand grabs his and he squeezes it tight.
"So without further ado, I would like to welcome this year's winner, Gloss!"
The crowd goes wild but the sound is drowned out by a ringing in your ears. It's like you're underwater, holding your breath as you wait and wait for him to take the stage and all the oxygen to slip away.
One...two...three...
You get to ten seconds, then twenty seconds and then thirty and by the time you get to forty you feel yourself break the surface, take a heaving breath.
You're floating. He chose you.
He loves you! Yoongi loves you! He—
No.
You're seeing things. You must be. That can't be Yoongi's face lighting up every screen in the room. That can't be him crossing the stage and taking the trophy from the hands of the host with a smug grin. That can't be Yoongi holding it up in the air like a martyr.
That can't be your Yoongi. This is a stranger.
You crash back to reality when Namjoon wraps his arms around your waist and you realise your sobbing. Sobbing so hard it hurts your chest and your lungs burn with misuse and you're sure the tears will never stop.
"It's okay! Shh."
Nothing is okay. Nothing.
Yoongi's face is still blown up on the big screens in painful detail. The smile on his face falters when he looks out into the crowd and spots you instantly. Sees you crumple.
There are two things Min Yoongi ever loved in this world.
His music and you.
The trophy feels cold in his hands. The crowd gasps as he rushes to the edge of the stage and calls out to you.
"Y/N wait! I'm sorry—"
You hear his voice through the speakers but it's too late. You're already running.
Yoongi's mic drops to the ground.
--
Yoongi's nightmares are back. Except this time they're different.
When he closes his eyes you're there. Smiling and laughing like you used to. His heart warms and he reaches for you...
And then he realises it's not you. Just a picture, blown up on the big screen as you cross the stage at the front of the room he's suddenly aware he's in.
He glances around at the indistinguishable people around him, all smiling and clapping ferociously. Why isn't he happy?
The bottle in his hand is half empty. He's realises he's screaming. So hard his throat burns and his lungs beg for air but you don't even look his way. He screams your name, over and over again. Nobody seems to hear him.
Namjoon's there too. Bouncing a baby on his knee, maybe one or two years old if he has to guess.
"That'll be you one day," He whispers, but its deafening to Yoongi. "Only the very best for my niece." The baby giggles up at him, stubby fingers wrapped around his thumb.
She has your eyes. The very same eyes Yoongi would look into like they held everything in the world. The very same eyes Yoongi saw fill with pain on the last day he saw you before things got messed up.
She has Hoseok's nose. And his mouth, too, small and heart shaped. The resemblance is uncanny as Hoseok appears beside Namjoon, takes the baby girl into his arms and places a sweet kiss on her forehead.
Then there you are. The same old Y/N. The same smile that makes your eyes crinkle and the same laughter than makes his heart melt. The same girl who used to love him.
Though it's clear that that much is no longer true. Not when you lean up to kiss Hoseok on the cheek, Namjoon drawing you into a hug when you present the trophy in your hands to them with an elated laugh.
A family.
It feels like he's been punched in the stomach.
Yoongi always thought winning Mic Drop would mean he had everything. Fame. Money. Glory.
He didn't need family. He always got by on his own.
It took holding the whole world in the palm of his hand to realise none of it meant anything if he didn't have you by his side.
You were his everything. But he was too stupid to see it and he let you slip away.
It's too late now.
A hand appears on his shoulder. It's cold, grip bruising. The voice that comes next gives him chills every single time.
"So was it worth it?" Namjoon asks.
Yoongi tries to answer but his vision is blurred with hot tears now and he's on his hands and knees and he's screaming.
And when he wakes up at ass o clock, sweaty and gasping for air, he still finds himself reaching for your warmth beside him.
But all his fingers find are cold sheets and bitterness.
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extended a/n: okay so if you have reached this far then you are a TROOPER. a trooper who i love and appreciate endlessly for reading 30k of my waffle lmao im so sorry <3 ksksksk so this fic has been in my head for the longest time and in my drafts for almost five months so im super attached to it and putting this out is like the scariest ever?? i really put my heart into this piece, like y’all don’t understand how many times it’s cropped up in my dreams and I’ve woken up like MUST WRITE. it’s far from perfect but i tried my best!! i can’t tell you how many scenes had to be rewritten until i was happy enough with them bc this fic is literally my baby in every sense of the word and i wanted to get it right :( although that just made the ending even more SOUL DESTROYING to write for me ugh i had the ending set in my mind before i even started writing but there were moments where i jus wanted yoongi and oc to be happy ever after :( but alas, I feel like this ending was far more realistic for them and i couldn’t go against my gut sigh. there may be a few drabbles planned in the future tho to make up for the angst :) Anyway!!! I’ll stop rambling. Thank you for reading this far, if anyone has. TROOPER. love you <3
updated 12/01/19: drabble #1 | drabble #2 | drabble #3 
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Text
Onsra- Chapter 27: Inner Demons
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banner created by: @envity ♥️
Pairing: vampire!jungkook x female reader (also vamp!tae x ga-in oc & vamp!jimin x yuri oc)
Genre: romance, angst, horror, drama
Warnings for this chapter: panic attack, strong language, koo is being bullied by that stupid voice again ;-;
Word count: 7.7k
Onsra- ML, Previous Next
I loved this one at first, now idk :/ hope u enjoy it tho :’)
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You’re staring into Taehyung’s deep brown eyes, your own wider than ever. His irises are so dark they’re almost black.
“What is it?” Tae repeats his words, he’s so confused he doesn’t know what to think. “Why are you guys staring at me?” He asks desperately. You try to find the words to explain but Jungkook cuts you off sharply before you can.
“Open your mouth.” He says abruptly, taking all three of you by surprise. Taehyung looks at Jungkook like he’s insane. “Why would I do that? What the heck is the matter with you guys? Ga-In?” He looks at her, desperation and anxiety in his eyes. Ga-In has tears in her own and she tries to explain when Jungkook once again snaps.
“Open your damn mouth, Tae.” 
The older boy looks at him indignantly, then opens his mouth hesitantly. You and Ga-In gasp and Jungkook’s eyes narrow.
“What is it??” Tae is almost shouting now, his frustration hitting a breaking point.
“You’re a human again.”
Tae steps back when Jungkook utters those words. The shock on his face is clear, and he stumbles for a second. “W-what the hell are you talking about?” He whispers breathlessly, his eyes darting around the three of you watching him.
“Your eyes are brown, Tae. They aren’t red anymore.” You speak up quietly, tying to help him understand. Jungkook nods and joins in. “You don’t have fangs anymore either. Look at your hands, your color is coming back.”
Taehyung brings his shaking hands in front of his face, his eyes widen and start to water as he stares at them. “W-why- why am I like this?” He splutters, then Ga-In wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly. Tae responds immediately by encircling her in his own hold, he stuffs his face into her hair and lets out a little sob.
“I d-don’t understand.” He cries when Ga-In pulls away. “It’s okay Tae, we’re gonna figure this out. Let’s go to Jin.” Ga-In gets his attention by putting her hand on his cheek and making him look at her, then she grasps his hand and starts leading the confused boy back to the house.
You stare after them in complete and utter shock, the flowers hanging limply and forgotten in your hands. You turn to Jungkook and see him scowling as he stares at the ground.  
“What happened to him?”
He doesn’t answer, just keeps focusing on a random rock on the forest floor. You walk closer to him and touch his shoulder, making him flinch.
“Kook? Are you okay?” You ask softly.
Jungkook brushes your hand off and his scowl deepens. “I don’t know what the fuck happened.” He moves past you and starts heading to the house. “And don’t call me that.”
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You’re afraid to follow Jungkook inside at first, knowing he’s in one of his moods again. But you want to know what Seokjin is going to say about Taehyung, so you walk in and find Tae sitting on the couch, bouncing his legs anxiously. No one else is in the room.
Just then, Ga-In rushes in with the eldest and hurries over to Tae. She sits down next to him and lets him grab her hand tightly and hold it to his chest.
Jin stops abruptly when he sees the pretty blonde boy with his big dark eyes sitting on the couch. His eyes bulge out of his head and he splutters in confusion. “W-w-what happened? What’s going on?”
Taehyung shrugs tearfully, then looks at Ga-In. She seems to understand what he wants from her and she turns to Jin. “Taehyung and I were out having a picnic. When we were finished, we were coming back and saw Jungkook and Y/n. We went to say hi and that’s when we realized something was different.”
“And he was a vampire when you were eating the picnic?” Jin asks slowly. Ga-In nods her head frantically. “Tae said he wasn’t feeling well, so we decided to head back. I didn’t even notice until Jungkook and Y/n noticed.”
Seokjin kneels in front of where Tae is sitting on the couch and puts his hands on the younger boy’s knees to get his attention. “Tae?” The blonde nods, and he continues. “What were you feeling? Did anything happen before you were feeling sick?” Taehyung swallows thickly and keeps his tight grip on Ga-In’s hand. “I- I don’t know. My chest felt kind of tight and it was hard to breathe. It felt kind of like I had run a long time without stopping, my bones were aching and stuff…I feel fine now, though.” You can hear the tears in his voice and your heart aches for him. He must be so confused, like you all are.
Seokjin nods and smiles, “Have you seen yourself?” Tae shakes his head. “Only my hands, I saw that I wasn’t as pale.” He whispers. The eldest holds out his hand to Tae and helps him stand up, “I don’t know what happened, but you’re going to be okay. For some reason, you’re not like the rest of us.” There’s a huge grin on his face as he tells Tae to go and look in the mirror and they can talk more later.
Taehyung pulls Ga-In out of the living room to go with him and you watch them pass by. Seokjin comes over to you, a slight frown on his face. You look at him questioningly and whisper, “What’s wrong? I thought this would be a good thing.”
“Oh no, it is!” Seokjin reassures you. “I’ve just never heard of someone turning back into themselves after being bitten. It just doesn’t happen.” He bites his lip as he thinks. “I feel like there’s something those two aren’t telling us.” You frown at that, knowing Ga-In would never lie to you.
“I don’t know…Why wouldn’t they tell us?” You ask slowly.
Jin shakes his head and shrugs. “I don’t know, but what’s important is that Tae is okay. I guess they’ll let us know when they want to.” You can see tears in his eyes as he glances down the hallway where Taehyung and Ga-In are talking excitedly in the bathroom.
“I’m glad it’s Tae.” He whispers so quietly you barely hear him.
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The entire house is in an uproar over what happened with Taehyung. Hoseok and Jimin declare that a party needs to be had and Seokjin readily agrees. Tae shyly lets everyone hug him and cry happy tears for him as he grips Ga-In’s hand the whole time. You shed a few tears of your own when you get a turn to hug Tae.
He squeezes you tightly and chuckles at your blubbering.
No one knows what happened, but nobody really cares seeing as Taehyung is a human again, and that’s something they had long since dreamt for. The only one you haven’t seen recently is Jungkook. While everyone is laughing and talking in the living room while Seokjin and Yoongi make dinner, you sneak upstairs to see if you can find him. You knock on his door, but there’s no response. Just to be sure, you peek your head in and see it’s empty. You frown and walk to your room, just in case he decided to hide somewhere else. When you walk in, it’s empty. But something on the dresser catches your eye. You walk over and see a tiny little vase, covered with dust and a little crack down the side of it. The little hairline fracture is so thin that no water is spilling out of it.
Stuffed inside of the little vase are all the flowers that Jungkook was holding for you. They look almost comical because of how many are shoved in. You feel a smile tug at the corner of your mouth and a little tear in your heart at his kind gesture. You wish you knew where he was so you could thank him and make sure he’s okay.
You make your way back downstairs and head to the kitchen. Jin notices you lingering in the archway leading to the kitchen and smiles at you. “Hey, Y/n. Can I help you?” He asks kindly and you shyly make your way over to him. Yoongi is quietly cutting vegetables while the oldest is cooking meat in a pan. “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Jungkook recently.” You say as casually as you can.
Jin sets his tongs down and looks thoughtful for a moment before answering. “I saw him before Ga-In grabbed me to see Tae. He was asking me if I had a vase.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I have no idea why he wanted a vase, but he was delighted when I found him one. Anyway, I haven’t seen him since then.” Jin takes the tongs and flips the meat again. “Did you need to talk to him?”
You shake your head and sigh. “Not really, thanks Jin.” He smiles at you and you send Yoongi a quick smile before heading out to the living room again. Jimin is playing a card game with Taehyung and Namjoon while Yuri, Ga-In and Hoseok talk on the couch.
“Ga-In?” She looks up when you call her, then she immediately smiles brightly. “Yeah?” You walk over and talk quietly, “Can I speak to you?” She nods and stands up to follow you upstairs.
When you shut the bedroom door, you turn and sit on the bed with Ga-In. “Did something happen, at the picnic I mean?” Ga-In’s cheeks immediately flush pink and you squint at her. “Something did happen! I knew it.”
Your best friend ducks her head and puts her hands over her face. “Y/n, I was going to tell you. I just wanted to do it when we were alone.”
You scoot back on the bed and sit crisscross as you face her. “Well, we’re alone now.”
She peeks at you from between her fingers, seeing you watch her closely. Then she mumbles something that you can’t hear. “What? Ga-In, speak up girl!” She puts her hands down and sighs, her face a tomato red.
“I kissed him, ok??”
Your eyes bug out and you clap a hand over your mouth. “You…kissed him? You kissed him?” Not that there was anything wrong with that, you were just so shocked that she made the move first. Ga-In has never kissed anyone in her life, and she’s definitely not one to make a first move.
Wait a minute.
“Your first kiss!” You squeal and Ga-In covers your mouth quickly, “Shh!! Yes, yes I know.” Her cheeks are so flushed she looks almost feverish. “Mmfhs.”
“What?”
You point at her hand covering your mouth and she realizes what you mean, moving her hand so you can speak. “I knew you liked him, I just didn’t expect-“ Then something clicks in your head and you look at her. “Ga-In…do you love Tae?”
She turns and shoves her face into the mattress, curling her long legs up and forming into a little ball of embarrassment. Then she nods, still hiding her face. “I was too embarrassed to tell you. But he just understands me, and I understand him.” She mumbles into the covers. “He’s so pure and has the biggest heart. Everyone always called me weird for the way I see the world and he never did. We could talk about things and I never felt judged. The more time I spent with him, the more I fell for him.”
You watch her tearfully, extremely happy for her and not knowing how to say it.
“He was shocked today when I told him I liked him, like really liked him. He said it first but wasn’t expecting anything back. I kissed him and-“
She sits up before she can finish, her hair in her face as she tries to brush it away. Her brows are furrowed like she’s thinking really hard, then her eyes widen. “I kissed him and a minute later he told me his chest was hurting.” Your breath catches in your throat and you see the wheels turning in her head.
“Oh my gosh!” She jumps off the bed and runs for the door, you following hot on her heels as she runs down the stairs two at a time. Ga-In flies into the living room and crashes right into Taehyung who was coming out to find you two. He laughs and holds her waist gently, “Wow there, what’s going on?”
“Tae, I think I know what happened.” She says breathlessly. Tae watches her face closely, his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” Ga-In pulls him away to talk privately in another room, so you turn to go into the living room, knowing she’ll explain everything to you later. That’s when you see Jungkook standing there in the hall by the front door. Your heart leaps to your throat and you grasp your chest.
“You need to stop scaring me like that. Hey, are you okay?” You notice he looks a bit sickly, but he just nods. “I’m okay. I’m fine.” Then he turns to go upstairs.
“Wait, Jungkook.” He turns back at your words.
“You should talk to Tae.”
“Why?”
Why? What the hell does he mean why?
“Um…because he’s had quite the eventful day? I’m sure he’d like to see you.”
“No thanks.” He turns to go up the stairs and you sigh.
“Hey.”
Jungkook stops again at the tone in your voice. You walk over and catch his gaze, “Will you take a walk with me?” He hesitates for only a moment, then he gives you a stiff nod.
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“Thank you for the vase for my flowers, Jungkook.” You walk beside him slowly as you two make a wide lap around the house. He mumbles something but you don't catch it. The sky is starting to darken, and a few twinkling stars are out. "What's wrong with you?" You ask. Jungkook gently kicks a little stone and shrugs, but you’re not having it. You stop in your place, making him halt and face you.
“Knock it off. I know something is going on. How can you claim to be friends with me when you don’t tell me anything? That isn’t what friends do, you know.” You huff, watching him sigh and clench his fists, unclenching them before he makes eye contact with you.
“I’m just having a rough day.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, Y/n! Because I am? Because everyone does? Am I not allowed to just be upset? I’m a fucking human bei-“
He cuts himself off, eyes darting to the ground as the new silence surrounds you after he realizes his mistake. You frown and fight the urge to hug him. He just sighs and puts his hand over his eyes.
“I’m just not feeling my best right now.” He whispers.
“Ok, I’m sorry.” You say softly, then you ask. “Do you want to be alone? Because if you do, it’s all right. I’ll leave you alone.” He hesitates, then nods. You sigh internally and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a quick hug. Jungkook flinches at your action, then he tries to make himself relax. He’s about to hug you back, but you pull away a second later.
“Talk later?” You ask hopefully and he nods, trying to give you a smile.
He watches you make your way back into the house, his chest tightening painfully.
She’s really something, huh?
Jungkook just sighs and stares at the door after you close it. His mind is too tired to deal with this right now.
Too bad she’s the only one feeling anything.
“What do you know?” Jungkook snaps angrily, giving in to the taunts.
I know you’re pathetic.
“Fuck off.”
Think about it, boy. Why would Taehyung turn back and not you?
“I don’t care.” Jungkook’s voice wavers.
It’s because you’re too far gone.
“You don’t know everything,”
Oh, but this…I do know.
“Why are you messing with me?” Jungkook kicks another rock, watching it roll away a few feet.
Because it’s fun.
“Just go away.”
You know it doesn’t work that way.
You know why, right?
“Shut up.”
No.
You’re a monster, and you know it.
“Nope.”
Y/n knows it.
“Don’t say her name.” Jungkook growls, trying to keep his cool. But he knows nothing he says or does will make it shut up.
Monster.
“Stop.”
You think she could ever love something like you?
You drink blood, boy.
You’re disgusting.
Jungkook sighs and wills the tears to go away. He doesn’t want to cry, not now.
Oh, is the little boy crying now?
Maybe you do have feelings!
“Why? Why can’t you leave me alone?” Jungkook sniffles and wipes his nose angrily.
You know why.
“No.”
Because I’m you.
You can’t escape yourself.
“You’re not. Go away.”
Oh yeah? Make me then.
See?
You can’t.
Jungkook plops onto the ground and pulls his knees up to his chest. He wraps his arms around his legs and hugs himself tightly. “Please stop.” He sighs shakily, already feeling new tears streaming down his face.
You’re a nobody.
“Please.”
She secretly hates you.
After everything you’ve done to her?
Jungkook gasps in a breath, trying to choke back the tears. He wipes his eyes frantically, then clutches his legs again.
You’re a burden to them all.
“No, I’m not.”
They know you’re a lost cause.
Don’t you realize how different you are from them?
“Just stop!” Jungkook screams, plugging his ears and rocking back and forth. “Please stop!” His cries get louder. His whole chest is tight, and he can’t get a breath in.
Monster.
“I’m not a monster.” He whimpers brokenly.
Oh, come on now.
You killed innocent animals and drank their blood.
Jungkook chokes on his tears and continues to rock back and forth on the ground where he sits.
You drank the blood of a man.
“He hurt Y/n.” Jungkook whispers tearfully.
Do you think she cares enough to condone you drinking his blood like a monster?
“Not a monster.” More tears stream down.
Yes, you are.
“No. No no no.” Jungkook just keeps repeating it out loud, attempting to drown out the voice.
Just accept it.
Accept it and I’ll leave you alone.
Jungkook keeps rocking, squeezing his eyes shut tight and mumbling nonsense to himself.
You’re evil.
Disgusting.
And you’ll always be alone.
The young vampire curls into himself and lies on the ground, his knees still tucked into his side, he lets the tears tickle his nose as they slide down the bridge of it. His broken sobs can’t be heard by anyone but himself. Because he’s all alone. And he always will be.
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You beat everyone in yet another round of Go Fish, laughing your head off when they all stare at you in disbelief. “I guess I’m just the queen of this game.” You say smugly, earning another playful glare from Yoongi.
Hoseok starts reshuffling the cards again for another game when the front door opens. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs and excuse yourself from the next round. Making your way out of the living room, you see Jungkook climbing the stairs slowly.
“Hey, Jungkook.”
You follow him up the stairs, but he keeps walking without answering you as he goes down the hall. “Y/n, I don’t really want to talk right now.” He says once he reaches his room and stops in front of it.
“I don’t believe you.” You respond quietly, watching his face.
Jungkook tries to keep a neutral expression, but you looking at him with so much understanding and kindness makes him break. A single tear slips out and trails down his cheek and you watch with mounting sadness. “Jungkook, please just let me try to understand.” He sighs and looks at you uncertainly. You continue softly, “If you don’t give me a chance, I can’t help you.”
Jungkook opens his door and walks in, but he doesn’t close it. You take that as a sign to follow him, so you walk in behind him. He sits on the floor by his bed and leans his back against it. You shut the door behind you before walking over and sitting on the floor beside him.
Silence fills the room, but you decide not to break it. He’ll talk when he’s ready, you think hopefully as you curl your legs up to hug them against you.
“I’m sorry.” He speaks up after a little while. You turn your head and see him staring at the closed door, his eyes a bit vacant. “Jungkook, you already apologized, and I already forgave you. Please stop beating yourself up.”
He shakes his head and sniffles, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket as he continuously stares straight ahead. “Why are you being so nice to me?” He asks after another minute of silence. You turn your head back and join him in staring at the door.
“Because I don’t believe you’re really bad.” You say softly. “I think you want me to believe you are. I think you want people to hate you, I just don’t know why.”
You hear a little sniffle come from Jungkook again and you shift to face him. He pulls his knees up to his chest and stuffs his face into them. His shoulders shake as he takes shaky breaths and tries to stop crying.
He doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t understand it. There are so many feelings swirling around inside of him that he has long since forgotten. The person he used to be is like a figment of his imagination, all blurry and distant in the deepest part of his untouched memories. He never realized that he was pushing everyone away. He was trying to make people hate him. He just didn’t know it until you said it.
Now it feels like a part of the person he’s become and is so used to, is being chipped away at. And he doesn’t know how he feels about that. The whole time, being angry and hateful towards everyone and everything felt natural, and comfortable, and predictable. It was always something he felt he could control when everything else was taken from him. Now you’ve broken through that façade and confused him even further.
“I’m so- I don't get it.” He chokes out, his voice a bit muffled from stuffing it into the space between his knees and arms.
You feel tears prick at your eyes from the vulnerable sound of his voice, and you scoot closer to him. You reach out a tentative hand and pat his back gently, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay to be confused. I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now, and I’m sorry.” You keep your voice low as you pat him on the back. “If you want, I can try to help you understand some things? If you want to just talk about whatever you’re feeling.”
Jungkook lifts his head up and wipes his tears. “You could have done this with any of the others. They were all so much kinder to you, and still are. I don’t understand why you don’t hate me. I never did anything to deserve your friendship.”
You sigh and lay your head on his shoulder, feeling him tense for a second before relaxing again. “Why are you so mean to yourself?” You whisper softly and he looks at you. You look up at him and realize how close your faces are, your noses no more than three inches apart.
“Because I don’t deserve anything more than that.” He speaks lowly and with such raw emotion that you can feel the hurt and anger tangible in the air between you.
“Stop it.” You keep looking into his eyes, noticing them shining with new tears.
“I can’t.” He says slowly, defeat clear in his voice. His eyes move back and forth between yours, searching your gaze and trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind.
“Then let me help you. I want to help you see what I see.” You try to keep your voice clear, but the tears creeping up on you make it hard not to choke.
She’s lying.
“Fuck.” Jungkook whispers softly and closes his eyes, trying not to panic at the horrible timing.
“Tell him to shut up.”
Jungkook’s eyes pop open and he looks at you quizzically. “Who?” His voice breaks. You search his face and then reach your hand up. You unfold his right hand that’s clutching his knee and hold it gently, lacing your fingers between his. Your faces are still only a few inches apart.
“The voice in your head.”
Jungkook’s gaze is locked on your hand that’s gripping his, a million overwhelming feelings fighting for his attention. “How did you-“ He furrows his brows at you, confusion clouding his mind. He has no idea how you know about the voice. Maybe you heard it too?
She doesn’t hear me, stupid.
She’s trying to make you trust her.
“Whatever he’s telling you, it isn’t true.”
She’s smart. She knows how to play you.
“But, how did you know?” Jungkook asks again. You shrug and move back a little before answering him. “I’ve heard you say random things to yourself when we talk. Sometimes even when you aren’t talking to anyone. You always sound frustrated and anxious when it happens.”
She thinks you’re crazy.
“I- I’m not crazy…” Jungkook mumbles and looks down. You frown and squeeze his hand a little, “I don’t think you’re crazy, Jungkook.”
He looks back at you and you think you see a little shimmer of hope glistening in his eyes. Then it fades away a moment later.
I wonder who’s playing who now?
Karma, hm?
“I’m going to prove it to you.” You speak up suddenly and he glances at you uncertainly. “Prove what to me?” He asks hesitantly.
“That I care about you and I’m not lying. You watch me, I’ll show you Jeon Jungkook.”
He chuckles a little and wipes his eyes with the hand you’re not holding. “How did you know my last name?” You giggle and sit back, still holding his hand. “I’m just magical like that, ya know.” You say smugly and he laughs louder this time. “Seokjin hyung told you, didn’t he?”
“He did.” You grin and Jungkook feels another pull in his chest at the sight.
How sweet. What a waste of blood. Shame, it would be so delicious.
Jungkook doesn’t pay any heed to the taunting, he just cleans his face up of the tears and smiles brightly at you. This is the happiest you’ve ever seen him. You fight the sudden urge to kiss him on the cheek. Instead, you give his hand another little squeeze and rest your head against the side of his bed.
“So, what do you like to do for fun?” You ask and he sighs. “I don’t really know.” You look back at him doubtfully, “There has to be something you enjoy. Anything, anything at all.” You insist.
“Well...” Jungkook hesitates, then he sees you nod encouragingly, and he continues. “Well, I kind of remember things I used to enjoy, but I haven’t done them in a long time.”
“Name one.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it, though.” He says quietly, and you can hear the sadness in his voice. So, you automatically switch gears. “Ok, that’s fine. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Say a random word.” You rest your head back again and wait for him to say something. It’s quiet for a minute before Jungkook awkwardly speaks up again. “I’m not good at this.”
You laugh quietly and nod, your eyes closed as you think of something. “That’s alright. Let’s see now…umm, animal. What’s your favorite animal?”
Silence follows, then Jungkook mumbles, “I don’t know…”
You can’t help but start chuckling again. Your giggles get louder and soon Jungkook joins in. In a few minutes, you’re rolling around on the ground and laughing your head off about literally nothing while Jungkook stays leaned against the bed, laughing with you. When you finally sit up and wipe away the mirthful tears on your face, you see Jungkook giggling and notice his sharp canines. At first, they scared you, now you find them cute.
Jungkook seems to notice where you’re looking and snaps his mouth shut. “Hey, no!” You protest and get up on your knees to shuffle towards him. “Don’t close your mouth.” You pout and he glares at you playfully before sticking his tongue out.
You grab his cheeks and squish them, making his lips pooch out. You laugh and he starts giggling too, then he reaches up and takes your hands from his face, holding them in his larger ones. You’ve gotten used to how cold his skin is by now. Jungkook smiles at you and your heart does a little flip in your chest. You shake your head and try to free your hands to squish his cheeks again, but he keeps a grip on them.
“Let me goo~” You whine and stand up, trying to yank your hands free from his grasp. Jungkook just stands up along with you and giggles at the way you move around and try to break free. “Calm down, noodle arms.” He says and you glare at him playfully.
“You’re a big old bully, let me go.” You try to spin out of his grip but end up tripping on his foot and stumbling. You fall onto his bed and Jungkook, who still has your wrists, falls on top of you. He made sure to catch himself, so he didn’t crush you, but you immediately notice the close proximity. Jungkook gulps and stares at you, his nose mere centimeters from your own.
You see him glance down at your lips and your heart starts pounding out of your chest. You can feel his breath fanning your face, your own coming out in panicked little puffs of air.
Just then a knock on the door makes you both jump; Jungkook flings himself backwards and off of you and you quickly move to a sitting position on the edge of his bed.
“W-who…W-who is it?” Jungkook stutters and you try not to laugh at the expression on his face. It’s somewhere between panic and annoyance.
“Your favorite oldest brother ever, that’s who.”
Jungkook sighs and moves to open the door to a grinning Seokjin.
“Well hello there, Kook. What are you two up to?” You can hear the playful smirk in his voice even though you can’t see him past Jungkook. You roll your eyes and see Jungkook’s shoulders sag, “Hyung.” He almost whines and you cover your mouth to stifle your laughter.
You get up and peek out from behind the vampire, seeing Jin winking at Jungkook before his focus turns to you. “Hey, Y/n. Is Jungkook misbehaving?” He asks, teasing the younger vampire that sighs in annoyance.
“He certainly is. Good thing you came to save me.” You pipe up and slip under Jungkook’s arm that’s propped on the door. You slide out of the room and Jungkook’s face falls. “You better scold him, Jin.” You say before turning and winking at Jungkook from behind the eldest.
“Yah, if you don’t stop messing with Y/n, I’ll have your hide boy.” Jin shakes his finger in Jungkook’s face and laughs at the expression he receives in return. Jungkook’s lips form a thin line and he scowls, “We were just talking hyung.”
Seokjin smacks Jungkook’s shoulder playfully and laughs his signature windshield wiper laugh. “We heard you idiots laughing from downstairs, don’t think you can have all the fun without me. That isn’t why I came up though.” He turns back to you. “Y/n, I wanted to talk with you.”
                   ~                                      ~                                  ~                                      
“Taehyung said they might know why he turned back.” Jin says as he sits on the couch in the living room. You take a seat next to him and nod. “Ga-In had an idea, but she hasn’t clarified anything with me yet. Do you know where they are?” You ask curiously and Jin nods, “Yeah, they’re up in Tae’s room. This whole thing is really confusing.” He mutters, lost in thought.
You nod in agreement. How can he turn back into a human just because Ga-In kissed him? This isn’t some fairytale…
Then again, if someone had asked you if you believed in vampires a few months ago, you would’ve laughed it off. And now look where you are. But the whole thing still seems odd and very confusing.
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you knew about what they were saying.” Jin says after a minute of silence. “Thank you Jin, I appreciate it.” He nods, then he seems to remember something and turns to you again. “How’s Jungkook doing? He seemed like he was having a good time with you.” You smile, then it disappears when you start to worry again.
“He keeps switching. One minute he’ll talk to me, and the next he’ll act like I don’t even exist. I don’t know what to think.” You say slowly, making Jin nod, “Let’s just keep an eye on him and make sure he’s doing all right. I’m worried about the human blood he drank. I can’t imagine why he didn’t turn, but I’m really grateful.” Jin gets that lost look in his eyes again and you sigh sadly.
“I wish he would talk to me.” Jin mumbles and you pat his shoulder comfortingly. You don’t know how he deals with it, honestly. Losing his youngest brother and watching him become less like his old self, starting to hate his brothers more and more each day. It would take a toll on anyone.
“I feel like he might be getting somewhere. Just give him some time, I’m sure he’ll come around.” You try to comfort him, but you don’t think your words will help much at this point. After another few minutes of silence, Jin announces he’s going to bed. You stay on the couch a while longer, listening to the rain outside that started falling a few minutes ago.
A sound coming from the hall makes you flinch and look up, seeing Taehyung smiling at you as he quietly walks into the living room.
“Hey, Y/n.”
“Hey.” You smile at him as he comes to sit next to you. It’s such an odd sight to see him without his pale skin and red eyes, and his little fangs appearing when he speaks. He just looks so…normal. And happy. It makes your heart warm to see him smiling so brightly since earlier.
“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, aware that the others are heading to bed.
“I feel amazing. I was terrified earlier, but I feel so much better now.” You can hear the smile in his voice and you grin at him. “I’m so happy for you, Tae.”
“Thank you.” His boxy smile appears again and he looks down shyly. “It feels kind of weird, though. I need to get used to everything again.” You nod in understanding, then something comes into your mind and you turn to ask him.
“So, after your chest started hurting and it felt like you couldn’t breathe, your heartbeat came back? Just a little while after Ga-In kissed you?” At first his cheeks redden at your words, and he ducks his head. Then you see him lift it, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Wait, what?”
You look at him as he turns to you again, “Wait, did you say my heartbeat?” You nod slowly, confused as to why he doesn’t understand your question.
“I’m sorry, I’m confused.” He thinks hard for a minute then looks at you again, his deep brown eyes squinted in thought. “I never lost my heartbeat to begin with, Y/n.” He says slowly, trying to make you understand.
What?
Your blood runs cold at this and you stare at him in shock, “W-what do you mean? After you were bitten, you guys-…you lost your heartbeats, didn’t you?” Tae can sense the anxiety behind your words as he shakes his head.
“No, we didn’t. I don’t know where you got that idea.” Tae seems genuinely bewildered. “I mean, I know we turned into vampires. But when a human turns, they don’t lose their heartbeat, because they aren’t dead. Real vampires have no heartbeat because they aren’t exactly living to begin with.”
Your breath quickens the longer he talks and Tae notices how fidgety you’re becoming. He reaches out a hand to touch your shoulder and bring you back. “Y/n, are you feeling all right? What’s going on?”
“I- I don’t know. I- I think I’m going to puke.” You say breathlessly, holding your stomach as it turns and twists horribly.
Taehyung helps you off the couch and leads you to the bathroom where you crouch by the toilet and take deep breaths. “Would you like me to get Jin? He can get some medicine for you if you’re sick.” Tae is standing above you, biting his lip in worry.
“N-no I’m okay. I think I’m just tired.” You say quietly, trying your hardest not to retch at the new realization you’ve come to. You sit with your head in your hands for a few minutes, trying to calm down and process everything in a rational manner. Taehyung sits on the floor beside you, silently comforting you with his presence.
You finally open your eyes and nod at him, “I’m okay now, thank you Tae.” He helps you stand and walks closely behind as you make your way up the stairs. “Are you sure you’re all right, Y/n?” He asks quietly when you reach your room.
You nod and whisper a quick goodnight to him as you open the door and go to the big bed. Yuri and Ga-In are already fast asleep as you crawl in between them and close your eyes. Plugging your ears and willing yourself to go to sleep, even though you know it’ll only result in more nightmares if you end up drifting off.
     ~                                      ~                                         ~                                                                             
“Jeon Jungkook! Get your butt up, what are still doing in bed?”
Jungkook flinches and peels his eyes open tiredly. He finds you at his door with your hands on your hips and a scowl on your face. He groans and puts his hands over his eyes.
“Why are you in here?”
“You scared me. I thought you had left forever.”
Jungkook lifts his hands and squints at you again, confusion painting his pretty features. “What the hell are you talking about, Y/n?”
You pout and cross your arms. “You weren’t waiting on the porch for me after breakfast and you weren’t anywhere outside. I didn’t even think to check your room. Why are you still in bed?”
Jungkook drops his head back on his pillow and sighs. “I just wanted to sleep in is all. What’s the big deal, anyway?”
You walk over and yank his covers off, startling him and making him flinch. You realize he’s still in the t-shirt and jeans he wore yesterday. “What the hell?” He groans and sits up, still squinting in your direction. You lay the covers at the foot of his bed and gesture for him to get up.
“Come on, I’m taking you out today.” You say matter-of-factly and open the blinds to let some light in.
Jungkook looks at you in surprise, then he hisses and gestures towards the window. “Don’t open ‘em. Close them please.” You frown at that but close them again anyway. “Sorry. Well, come on! Get up. I’ll meet you on the porch.”
“You’re one lucky son of a gun, you know.” Jungkook mutters as he ruffles his bed head and moves his legs off the side of his bed.
“Why is that?” You ask nonchalantly as you make your way back to his door to leave.
Jungkook smirks at you and you feel goosebumps break out on your arms, hating the effect he still has on you. He stands up and saunters over to you, reaching his arm around you and opening the door to let you out. Then he whispers, “Because I usually don’t sleep with all my clothes on.”
Your face bursts into flames at the realization of how lucky you actually are that he fell asleep in his clothes last night. The thought of what would have happened had that not been the case makes you want to curl into a ball and die.  You can’t look him in the eyes as you stutter. “S-sorry, I- uh-…m-meet me outside when you’re ready!”
Then you run out of the room and down the hall towards the stairs, hearing Jungkook’s low chuckle as he watches you scurry away.
You’re talking with Jin on the couch when Jungkook walks down the stairs, all ready to go wherever you’re taking him. You smile at him, already having forgotten the humiliating scene from a little while ago.
“You ready to go?” You ask cheerily and see Jungkook nod shyly before looking at the ground. “Where are we going?” He asks quietly.
“I’m taking you kids to the store.” Seokjin says from behind you before you can answer. He jingles the keys in his hand and grins as Jungkook just makes a confused face.
“What?”
“Jin is taking us food shopping.” You smile brightly. “He said we need some stuff and there’s a place he always goes. We’ll have to make it quick though, since things aren’t very safe these days.”
Jungkook frowns, disappointment seeping into his mind that he won’t get to spend time alone with you. “That doesn’t sound very exciting.” He mutters as you nudge him in the side. “Oh, cheer up, that isn’t all we’re doing.” You scold his attitude as you three make your way to the little blue van.
“Who wants the front?” Jin asks, unlocking the doors and hopping into the driver’s seat. You two stand there quietly and Jin looks back out at you. “Well don’t everyone jump at once.” He says sarcastically.
“Ah, you can have the front Kook. I’ll sit in the middle.” You climb into the middle section and start buckling. You look up in surprise when he slides in next to you and buckles up silently. Seokjin shrugs and winks at you through the rearview mirror before starting the car.
You and Jin make pleasant conversation on the ride through the woods, but Jungkook stays quiet no matter how many times you try to include him. Eventually you and the eldest are all tired out from talking and everyone falls into a comfortable silence. Jin had told you it would be a long drive, so you settle down and watch out the window. The blur of trees gets dizzying pretty quickly, so you start looking at the clouds in the sky through the branches.
Jungkook sits perfectly still, watching you look out the window. He tries to memorize the lines of your face and the curve of your nose and chin. The shape of your lips as you mumble song lyrics to yourself quietly. He looks down and sees your hand resting in your lap. Then he has a very strong sudden urge to reach over and take your hand in his. His hand twitches, dying to just touch yours and feel how soft and warm it is compared to his.
When you abruptly turn and look at him to say something, he jumps out of his skin, whipping his head to face the front and willing himself not to panic that you caught him staring.
Cute.
You think as you look at him blinking frantically as he stares at the back of Jin’s head.
A two-hour drive later, you’re shocked to see actual buildings and cars. It feels strange and unsafe almost, being here after so long. Jin pulls into a parking spot in a crowded lot of a grocery store. You see people walking here and there, minding their own business and going about their days. Seokjin turns around in his seat and tosses a hoodie back to you. Him and Jungkook are already wearing them.
“If anyone at all recognizes you, it won’t be good.” Jin says as you pull it over your head and push your arms through. You put the hood up and take the face mask that Jin hands you.
“Don’t act weird, just be normal. It’s pretty easy to blend in if you act like you know what you’re doing.”
You nod and see Jungkook put some sunglasses on, keeping his hood off. He still looks a bit too pale but you’re sure no one is going to question him, seeing as he could just be a fair-skinned person.
The three of you make your way inside and Jin tells you he’ll meet you at the checkout in an hour. You and Jungkook stand there cluelessly, not knowing where to go. You glance at him and chuckle, causing him to look at you and tilt his head. “What’s so funny?” He asks and you laugh again. “It’s not very natural to have sunglasses on inside.” You whisper teasingly and he rolls his eyes, but you don’t see it.
“Oh, my bad. Let me just take them off and go stare at someone till they notice my fucking gorgeous ass eyes.” He says sarcastically, making you laugh and cover his mouth. “Don’t be stupid, Kook. Keep your voice down.” You glare at him playfully and uncover his mouth. “That doesn’t even make sense, why would you just walk over and stare at some stranger?” You giggle and follow him as he takes off in a random direction.
You two wander around aimlessly before heading to the toy section after you take the lead. Jungkook groans when you run over to a stand of little stuffed animals. “Oh, look!” You squeal and grab a teddy bear, laughing and showing it to him. Jungkook smothers the smile creeping up on him and shakes his head, “The toys? Really, Y/n?”
You glare at him and set the bear down, “Well, you didn’t have any better ideas to pass the time, Jungkook.”
“Jungkook?”
A sharp whisper hisses right after you from somewhere close by, and you jump. Jungkook’s hands immediately move to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him, his head whipping around in all directions to locate the voice.
_____________________________________
a/n: I honestly love parts of this one and hate parts of this one so idek anymore...;-;
tag list: @jjungkook99 @ditttiii​ @fekitza​ @xxxanimangxxx​ @howbizarre​ @rubinora @lettersforjoon @krystle1990​ @karissassirak​ @mygukandonly​ @elliegrace1999tvd​ @nikikookie​ @adelina1299​ 
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sapphireglyphs · 4 years
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[ bangtan short fic series ] jjk (feat. myg)
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» Yᴏᴜʀ Vᴏɪᴄᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ  sᴏʟᴏ ᴍᴜsɪᴄɪᴀɴ!ᴀᴜ (ғᴇᴀᴛ. ᴍʏɢ)   
Gᴇɴʀᴇ/Tᴀɢs: sʟɪᴄᴇ-ᴏғ-ʟɪғᴇ, ᴛɪɴʏ ʙɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ᴍɪɴ ʏᴏᴏɴɢɪ ɪs ᴀ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ ʜᴏsᴛ, ɴᴏ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢs, ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠᴇs ᴀ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴄᴋ/ɪʟʟ ʏ/ɴ sᴏ ɪғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ... ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ sᴋɪᴘ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ?, ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ ɪs ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʜᴀʀᴍʟᴇss, ʏᴏᴏɴᴋᴏᴏᴋ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ ғᴛᴡ
Rᴀᴛɪɴɢ: ᴘɢ
Wᴏʀᴅ Cᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~1.5K
Sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Jᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ ɢᴇᴛs ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʜɪs ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ Mɪɴ Yᴏᴏɴɢɪ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ʜɪs ɴᴇᴡ ᴀʟʙᴜᴍ ᴏɴ ʜɪs ᴡɪᴅᴇʟʏ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ sʜᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛs ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ғᴀɴ.
Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's Nᴏᴛᴇ: ᴏʜᴍʏɢᴏsʜ, ᴏᴋᴀʏ, sᴏ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ғ��ʀᴀʏ ɪɴᴛᴏ Bᴀɴɢᴛᴀɴ ғᴀɴғɪᴄ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Iᴛ ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛʟʏ ᴡᴀs sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛɪɴʏ 500 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴘɪʀᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɪɴ ғʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴡ. Tʜɪs ɪs sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜɴᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ; I'ᴍ ʜᴏᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ɢᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ. Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴜʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀs ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ ᴏғ "Sᴛɪʟʟ Wɪᴛʜ Yᴏᴜ" I ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ғʀᴏᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ! Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ғɪᴄʟᴇᴛ ᴏғ ᴍɪɴᴇ... I'ᴍ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ sʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ! Eɴᴊᴏʏ 💜 
“We’re back on in 2 minutes.” 
Jungkook shifted in his seat with a toothy grin. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a ‘producer’...” the singer-songwriter trailed off bashfully. 
“But that’s what this album was: self-produced. Your first, in fact.” Yoongi countered.
The young artist didn’t deny the fact, knowing that his old friend had already slipped back into his radio host persona, even before the one minute standby was called. It seemed that, at least for the time being, Yoongi didn’t press the issue but simply followed up with, “What’s something you’ve been working on that’s been giving you trouble lately?”
Jungkook tilted his head slightly as he thought. His overgrown bangs fringed across his bottom eyelashes, giving him a rebellious devil-may-care aura, which would have made Yoongi roll his eyes if the younger man was actually anything like that in person. The radio host knew that under that edgy haircut and emo hipster attire, Jungkook was still that soft, shy kid from Busan with big round eyes and an even bigger heart. 
He was glad to see his friend was still the same guy in all the ways that mattered. 
“There is this one particular track that I have a vague concept and melody for but-” Jungkook’s response was cut off by one of the producers calling the 30 second standby.
Yoongi, still relaxed as ever, pressed for him to continue, “But-?” 
“Oh, uhm, but the lyrics are still eluding me.” Jungkook finally murmured, fidgeting with his bracelet absentmindedly. 
The host nodded sympathetically as he pushed a few buttons on the console in front of him before turning his head slightly to the window where the staff members were monitoring the phone lines and the clock as the show returned from its commercial break. “Welcome back to the show, everybody. I’m your host, DJ Suga with the sweet voice from Honey FM 06.13. My guest is the one and only Jeon Jungkook here to promote his brand new, self produced EP “Mixtape 1”. His single “My Time” was released earlier today and it seems as though the response is already overwhelmingly positive. Producer Jungkook?” Yoongi pauses for dramatic effect before quickly continuing, “Would you like to take some calls from your fans? I can see the switchboard lighting up like fireworks. What do you say, huh? Shall we take some calls?” 
Jungkook simply chuckled at Yoongi’s subtle ‘producer’ jab, ducking his head in embarrassment. "Yeah, let's get it." 
“We have Minnie on the line. Hi, Minnie, you’re on the air with DJ Suga and Jeon Jungkook.” Yoongi said.
“Oh my gosh! Hi DJ Suga! Hi Jungkook!” a cheerful voice filtered in through the headsets, “I’m in love with “My Time”. The lyrics seem so sad even if the song sounds so upbeat. What inspired you to write a song like this?”
Jungkook replied, “Thank you so much for liking the song. It’s a very personal piece to me and it means a lot to hear that fans are reacting so positively to the track.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “When I had set out to create this song, I had wanted to be as honest and authentic as possible with the lyrics while still staying true to my original vision for the song which was basically a bittersweet look at the last few years of my life and what it means to me as a young musician. I believe instead of seeing the lyrics as something sad, I see it as simply living life. Life has ups and downs, there are sacrifices but even greater rewards. A give and take, if you will.”
“Poignant.” Yoongi responded, “Thank you for calling in Minnie. Next caller we have is Ken. Ken you’re on the air with DJ Suga and Jungkook.”
“Hi guys. I just wanted to say that I really love both of your albums, Jungkook. “Euphoria” is on repeat daily for me.” a warm, tenor voice insisted on the other end. “When will we be able to hear you live in concert again?”
Jungkook gave a grateful smile and bowed unconsciously, almost hitting his head on the microphone in front of him. “Thank you so much for your support. I’m hoping to go on tour very soon, so please look out for tour dates on the official website. Until then, please enjoy ‘Mixtape 1’.” 
Yoongi efficiently thanked Ken for calling in and pulled up the next call in the queue, “Hi Y/N, you’re on the air with DJ Suga and Jungkook.”
There was silence on the other end. 
Unfazed, Yoongi tried again, “Y/N? You’re on the air.”
The unnerving silence permeated the air and just as Yoongi was going to move on to the next caller, a soft voice pierced through the quiet, “Hello? I-is it really you, Jungkook?”
Jungkook scooted forward into his chair. “Yes, hello.”
“I wanted to let you know that I truly love listening to you sing. Your voice is so beautiful and full of emotion. You truly have a gift...” There was a pregnant pause before the fragile voice rasped, “But I’m not sure how much longer I can stay to listen to you.”
Both host and guest were taken aback by the peculiar response but Jungkook recovered quickly and said, “Why do you say that? It isn't that late. Are you getting tired already?”
“I’m always tired nowadays.” The silence was heavy. When the voice returned, it seemed strained, as though simply speaking was becoming too difficult a task to bear. “Your songs used to be a source of such strength for me… but I’ve come to accept that it isn't going to be enough anymore. You see… I'm not doing too well.”
As the weight of the words sat palpable in the studio, Yoongi could see the panic in Jungkook’s eyes as he began to piece together what the caller was implying. Before he could jump in to save his friend though, the young musician simply asked, “How can I help?”
The voice returned this time with a quiet strength that masked the slight quiver of desperation, “Would it be too much if I could hear you sing for me… one last time?”  
Jungkook looked up at Yoongi, his mind racing with a million thoughts. His eyes flickered to the radio host’s black guitar that hung on the wall behind his booth. Standing to his feet with resolve, Jungkook strode over to the guitar and carefully pulled it down from it’s hooks. He turned to Yoongi. “Hyung? Would you mind?” 
Yoongi didn’t even blink. “Go for it, Jungkookie.”
Nodding his thanks, Jungkook made his way back to his seat and spoke softly into the microphone, “Y/N, please forgive me if this song is a bit on the rougher side as it’s still a work in progress.”
“I understand.” 
Upon hearing a reply from the other end of the line, Jungkook closed his eyes in relief. He didn’t realize he had waited for that response with bated breath. 
He began strumming a few cords before tweaking the guitar just a bit. “Now here’s the deal: I’ll be happy to sing this for you but you got to promise me that you’ll listen well to the very end, okay?” 
“I will.” 
Jungkook closed his eyes. Giving himself over to the music, his calloused fingers found its rhythm and began to strum a simple cord before taking a deep breath and allowing the song to take shape...
That faint voice of yours that grazed me Please call my name one more time I’m standing still under the frozen light, but I will walk towards you, step by step Still with you
Yoongi sat back, too stunned to actually respond to anything that had actually transpired over the course of the next few minutes as Jungkook began to croon over the gentle strum of his guitar, an acoustic ballad of longing and loneliness. Despite the lyrics holding such sadness in its tone, the song ends hopeful of a day where the vocalist could meet again with the person they had longed for. Yoongi imagines the final studio version of the song would sound nice with a piano in the mix, brushed drums for a percussion piece and maybe even some tinkling synths for character. Either way, he’s pretty sure he had just witnessed the creation of another major hit for the younger musician.    
The moon looks lonely Like it's crying in the bright night sky Even though I always know the morning will come I want to stay in your sky like a star
As the song wound down, the studio erupted into cheers, from the staff and Yoongi alike. Jungkook bowed politely before he spoke into the microphone, “So, Y/N, what did you think?”
There was no reply from the other end of the line. Yoongi looked towards the booth where the producers sat behind the glass window and took their nods as a sign that the line was still open. 
“Y/N?” Jungkook repeated. “Don’t leave me hanging now. We had a deal. Are you still there?” 
There was a beat of agonizing silence before a sniffle could be heard from the other end of the line. “Yes, Jungkook... I’m still here.”
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worldwidemochiguy · 5 years
Note
Can you write BTS yandere reactions if you try to hurt them or even kill them to escape? Love your blog x 💜
ahaha thanks and here you go!! bc there’s seven of them and i wanted to do unique ones for each i kind of don’t stick exactly to the prompt, but i try to include at least one element of it in each thing, anyways i hope you like it 💞💞
Namjoon
“Really, Y/n?” Namjoon doesn’t even look up from the file he’s leafing through at his desk, despite the gun you’re pointing at his head. His tone is — as always — nonchalant, as if he’s almost disappointed in you for daring to challenge him. You feel regret curling its fingers into the back of your head, but you try to stay strong despite your trembling hands.
“Let me go.” You say, with a much weaker tone than you intended. He looks up this time, an eyebrow flicks upwards condescendingly.
“I have no intention of letting you go, Y/n. Does that mean you’re going to shoot me?” You whimper quietly, your finger loosening on the trigger guard. “I really thought you were more intelligent than that, but I guess you will have to be taught another lesson.”
Another lesson. Your mind flashes back to days spent alone, locked in a room so dark you couldn’t tell if it was night or day. Nothing around you, completely untethered and suffocated at the same time. No. Your muscles tense up and, without meaning to, you pull the trigger.
“No!” You scream, even as your finger tightens on the gun.
But the trigger has already been pulled. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see the bullet exit the chamber, not wanting to the man who’s tormented you splattered against the wall.
You hear a quiet chuckle, and the gun is gently tugged out of your loose grip.
“Silly baby, did you really think I was going to leave a loaded gun where you could find it? No, this was a test, and you’ve failed, Y/n. It doesn’t matter, though, I’ll just have to give you another lesson.”
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Jin
“Jagiya,” Jin’s hurt voice caused you to whip around immediately, without realising the half-full vial was still in your tight grip. “W-What are you pouring in the pot?”
When you had volunteered to make dinner that night for the both of you, Jin had been ecstatic, content that you had finally settled into your place as his loving, doting wife. Little did he know that you had hatched a plan to poison him and run away. You had never been a particularly violent person, but you were desperate to escape. You had realised by now that Jin was never going to willingly let you go.
“U-Uh,” You stuttered, glancing down at the vial in your hand, “…it’s seasoning.” His expression instantly showed his disbelief and he stalked over to you, yanking the poison out of your grip and crowding you against the kitchen counter with his intimidating broad frame.
“Jagiya, when I trust you with these things I expect you to be worthy of that trust, not betray me like some common slut!”
The sting of the slap is the first thing that registers before the side of your face goes numb. He hits you again, making your head jerk to the other side. Hot tears track down your inflamed cheeks, exacerbating the stinging. Jin grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look up and into his manic, crazed eyes.
“Listen to me very carefully, Jagiya. If you betray me like this again, you will be the one who ends up dying. But it will not be by a quick and painless poison, no, it will be long and agonising. Is that what you want, huh?”
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Yoongi
You slam him against the wall, hard enough to make the pictures rattle.
“Talk to me!” You scream, and your voice breaks on the last syllable, no longer able to choke down the sobs. But Yoongi just stares at you, silent as he had been ever since he discovered your plan to escape.
You had booked the plane tickets, you were so close to freedom you could practically taste it. But, on the morning of your getaway, you woke up in a completely different location. Yoongi had moved the two of you to a secluded safehouse while you slept. When you ran out of the door, he hadn’t stopped you, and soon you realised why.
The warehouse was literally in the middle of nowhere. You ran around for miles, screaming for help until your throat was hoarse. There was no one there to hear you. Eventually, night fell and you stumbled back to the only shelter for miles around, to Yoongi. For a while you were terrified you couldn’t find it, and it was hours before you were back and safe, for a loose definition of the word.
Yoongi has given you what you wanted. You wanted to get out of that house Yoongi had imprisoned you in, and now you were far away from it. You desired freedom, and now you could roam for miles, untethered. You wished to never speak to Yoongi again, and since the morning of your relocation he had not breathed a word to you, despite how much you begged him to.
He was, as far as you knew, the only living soul in the vicinity, and having him not even acknowledge you, especially after having his devoted attention for so long, was tearing you apart. And you had started to resort to any means possible to get him to talk.
“Yoongi!” You yell, wrapping your hands around his throat and squeezing as tightly as you can. He doesn’t react beyond his face redening, and you can feel his pulse weaken beneath your fingertips. You could just kill him, right here, right now. There’s no one around to see it. And after all he’s done to you…
You let him go and he slumps against the wall, panting slightly. You raise a hand to brush away your tears, damp on your cheeks, but it’s useless. They’ll be replaced by fresh tracks soon enough.
“Please,” you beg, staring at his blank face, “Please just talk to me.”
His eyes meet yours for the first time in this new hellhole, and you realise what he wants.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Just- please,” You bury your sobs in your hands, body shaking with the force of it. A pair of warm arms encircle you, helping your body to still and relax.
“It’s okay, baby, I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you, and you don’t have to worry anymore about your freedom, because I’ve taken us to a place where other people won’t even be able to touch us anymore. Do you feel better now, angel?”
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Hoseok
“Y/n!” Hoseok bellows, and you feel that familiar helpless panic surge within you.
A man had approached you at your table when the two of you were at a restaurant while Hoseok was in the bathroom. You had immediately turned him down, telling him you were taken, and the man left disappointed. However, Hoseok saw the exchange and was convinced you were somehow cheating on him with that man. And now he was mad.
“Get back here!” He screams as you dart into the sitting room. You know running will only make it worse for yourself, but you can’t stop from trying to escape from him when he gets like this.
“Y/n! Stop this right now!” His enraged voice rattles through the walls and a second later, he bursts through the door. He sees you on the far side of the room, quivering in terror, and runs at you with his fist raised.
By pure instinct, you dodge his punch. Gaining awareness just in time to watch, horrified, as his knuckles crunch into the plaster. You think you can hear them break, and a second later, Hoseok has his hand clutched to his chest with a wail of agony.
“Oh no~” You whimper, immediately drawing close to him and reaching out to cradle his injured hand in your own. He hisses in pain and you look up to gauge his expression. It is full of discomfort, washing away all of his previous fury.
When you first started dating, it had been difficult to adjust to his constant mood swings, from loving boyfriend to violently jealous to depressed and insecure. Now, you were used to it enough to realise that you had to cherish moments like these when his anger had dissipated.
You lead him upstairs to the bathroom, whispering apologies whenever he made a noise of discomfort or pain. Soon, you have him sat on the edge of the bath as you dab a cotton bud of antiseptic onto his wounds. Three of the knuckles are broken, and all of them badly bruised. Your guilt is a heavy weight on your shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” You say quietly as he hisses when you apply the badages.
“For what?” He snorts, despite the pain in his voice, “For talking to that guy, for causing me to get injured, or for wrapping my wounds too tightly?”
“I-I promise you, Hobi, I didn’t want to talk to him. He approached me but I immediately said I was taken, just like you told me to say. But I am sorry for the other things, Hobi. I’m really sorry.”
He sighs, then runs his uninjured hand through your hair, petting your head softly.
“I only do these things because I love you, Y/n. You’re the one that does this to me, and you make me suffer all the time. Are you going to be good now? And stop making me do all these crazy things for you, huh?”
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Jimin
“Aww, baby, you’re so sweet!”
You pause, incredibly confused. When you told your possessive, ridiculously clingy boyfriend that you were leaving him, and had booked plane tickets to leave the country in order to avoid him, you hadn’t expected him to delightedly clap his hands together and coo.
“Jimin… d-did you hear what I just said?”
“Yes, of course I did, Princess! Oh, you’re so cute. I can’t believe you got us plane tickets to France to visit Disneyland Paris!”
“Uh, what?” Your brow furrows, “Jimin, that’s not- I got plane tickets for myself so that I could leave the country. Because of you. And these tickets aren’t even to Fran-“”
“Baby,” Jimin interupts, and you can see the danger on the edge of his loving expression. “I know you’re joking, but don’t upset me now. And getting fake tickets just to prank me is going a bit far.” He reaches out and deftly snatches your plane ticket out of your hand, before you can even react.
“I mean, who knows? You might even confuse these with the real tickets for our trip, so I’ll just-” He rips up the ticket. “-get rid of them for you.” He giggles. “You’re welcome, babe.”
You watch in shock as your freedom flutters in fragmented pieces to the floor. Months of waiting, saving up, planning, all wasted.
“Well?” Jimin prods, and you look back up at him. “Aren’t you gonna say thank you?”
You just stand there stock still for a moment, before all of that longing, and pain, and anger washes over you and, without even processing it, you’re slapping Jimin as hard as you physically can.
He gasps, and then runs out of the room before you can react. You pause for a second before running after him. You find him in the kitchen, stooped over the sink. When he hears your footsteps, he turns around and you see his lip is cut, blood streaming over his chin and down his neck.
You gasp, and running over to him and taking his face in your hands, all thoughts of escaping replaced with bitter guilt. You are so distracted with him that you don’t notice the discarded knife resting behind Jimin’s hand, fresh drops of blood gleaming on the side of the blade.
“Ah, you hurt me really bad, Princess. I can’t believe my perfect angel would do something like this to me. You’re sorry, right? Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you love me, and I’ll feel better. Just tell me you love me and I won’t punish you, please?”
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Taehyung
It has always been extremes with Taehyung. Either he was the most artistic, dorkiest, sweetest boyfriend in the world, or he could be violent, possessive to a ridiculous degree, and controlling over every aspect of your life.
You found yourself growing more frustrated each time he asks you about who your friends are, what they’re saying to you, when you’re talking to them. He doesn’t trust you, and whenever you confront him about it, he tells you that it’s because he loves you too much to lose you.
But that doesn’t make sense. You can’t have love without trust.
“Who is he?” Taehyung screams, and it’s midnight and you’ve had this conversation more times than you can count and you’re just so tired.
Your mom’s been calling, she hasn’t heard from you in a while thanks to Taehyung cutting you off from everyone you knew, including your family.
“It was my mom, asshole! I showed you the contact on my phone! It was my mom!” You spit back at him and he chuckles in fake amusement and you know you’re hurtling headfirst into dangerous territory but you just can’t stop yourself.
“Yeah? Well I don’t fucking believe you! Why won’t you let me call the number back, hmm? What are you trying to hide?”
“I just don’t want you calling my mom because you’re a creep and I don’t want you talking to her!”
He shoves you against the wall and your head swings back painfully. Before you can even register the pain, Taehyung’s lips are on yours, licking into your mouth harshly and biting so hard you taste blood.
It’s more of a fight for dominance than a kiss, and you’re determined not to lose this time.
You twist around and shove him against the wall, hard enough that his head makes a twin indent to yours, and you hope it gains him the same dizzying quality that’s leaking into your vision, so that you’re on more of an even playing field.
He smiles down at you lazily and you feel disgusted with yourself. What’s wrong with you? Deliberately exacerbating fights with your boyfriend just to chase the high of being fought over, the bittersweet pleasure of darkening bruises and words so painful they scream their way out. He smiles at you because you’re just like him, you enjoy the pain, and feel helplessly drawn to it. Maybe that’s why you just can’t leave him.
“Fuck, baby girl can give as good as she gets, is that it? You like a little bit of pain, huh? Well don’t worry baby, I’ll give it to you. Trust me.”
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Jungkook
A snort is not the reaction you were hoping for, but it’s what you happens when you take a deep breath and point a dagger at Jungkook. The jewelled handle feels cold and heavy in your palm. It’s the dagger Jungkook keeps beneath his pillow each night in case of intruders, and judging my his little amused glance at it, he recognises his own weapon.
“So, what’s the plan, baby?” Jungkook asks you, remarkably calm for someone with a knife pointed at his chest. “You’re gonna stab me?” Absurdly, you nod when he asks you this. He laughs, then nods himself.
“Ok then, you’re just gonna commit a little murder then. Are you sure you’re capable of that?”
“…uh huh.” You reply dumbly. His eyes twinkle with mirth, and he continues his line of questioning.
“Alright then, you’ll murder me. I guess you’re not gonna clean up the body, considering you’re working alone?” He pauses for a response, and when he receives none he smiles to himself and keeps going.
“After that, where are you gonna go? What are you gonna do? After all, it’s not like you know anyone in this area.”
“That’s not true!” You pipe up, “My uncle Minyoung! He’s helping me leave.”
“Oh, your Uncle Minyoung.” Jungkook gasps in realisation and you nod again. “You mean this Uncle Minyoung?” Jungkook takes a Polaroid out of his pocket and hands it to you. You attempt to take it with your right hand, remember you’re holding a dagger, and take the photo with the other hand instead.
The photo shows a broken corpse, its head detached and pointed towards the camera. Jungkook is posing next to it, winking at you. Right next to him is your Uncle Minyoung’s severed head.
“Oh.” You say, and drop the photo. It flutters gently to the floor.
“Oh,” Jungkook echoes, “Well, what’re you going to do now? Your uncle had all the travel information, right?”
“Right.” You repeat distantly.
“So… how are you going to escape?”
“…I guess I can’t.” You realise, and the corners of his mouth curl into a smug smile.
During your conversation, Jungkook has moved closer and now stands directly in front of you, so close that the dagger is pressed against his chest. You watch as the pointed tip distorts the expensive fibres of his shirt. You wonder how much give they have before it tears.
Jungkook takes the dagger from you delicately, and then sweeps you up in his arms.
“Little baby, trying to escape from me? When will you realise that you will never be able to? You’re just so dumb! You’re lucky I’m here to look after you, or you really wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You’re so lucky to have me around.”
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blu-joons · 5 years
Text
DATING BTS HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴ Min Yoongi
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A ⇴ AFFECTION
He likes to make people think he’s not affectionate, but when the two of you were alone, he loved to cuddle you and hold you close. Around others, he tends to keep his affections silent, but when you’re alone, he gets very cuddly.
B ⇴ BEFORE DATING
Being such a mysterious character, Yoongi often left you questioning his feelings. From the moment he met you he knew he liked you, you made him laugh when he tried to be angry, and always brought the child out in him. Seeing such a difference in him, the boys knew he liked you too, pushing him to confess to you about how he felt before you became the one that got away.
C ⇴ CONFESSION
When it came to confessing, Yoongi was incredibly nervous. Several attempts had been made to tell you, but he never quite managed to bring himself to tell you. One night, the two of you were left alone in the studio, and as the courage finally built up in him, he told you how he felt, as you could hear the nerves in his voice as he spoke. Luckily for him, you told him that you liked him too, as the smile on his face grew, and his nerves disappeared.
D ⇴ DATES
Simplicity was Yoongi’s method for dates, he loved to keep things low key and intimate. Extravagant dates were rare, but that was what made them more special. Most of your dates involved going out for food or staying indoors and watching a movie. He liked to keep you safe in the dorm, whilst still making you feel loved and special. When it came to big dates, he’d make a day of it, he would pick you up, and take you out into the city, doing whatever you wanted to do, bringing you back to his place at night for plenty of cuddles and takeout, the perfect ending to what was always the perfect day for you both.
E ⇴ EXPERIENCE
He’d had a few brief girlfriends before he met you, but you were his first proper relationship, the first one he actually felt himself falling for properly. Life was hectic, and often people ran away from him when it got too much, but not you. He knew that living his life and being so open about having a girlfriend meant a lot of people expected the two of you to fail. But Yoongi wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t let the others win, he wanted to make things work more than anything, you were the one that he wanted to help him to prove the world wrong with.
F ⇴ FIGHTING
The two of you weren’t good at arguing, one, or both of you would get scared or nervous, and things tended to break down. Sure, you squabbled, Yoongi was good at little arguments, but when things got too big, he’d get frightened. If there was one thing he never wanted to do, it was raising his voice towards you. When things got intense, he’d take a step back and take himself to his studio for a short while, and once he felt like things had cooled off, he’d come back, and the two of you would talk things through. He could never sleep on an argument, but if time was what it needed, he would be happy to give it to it.
G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY
You were incredibly nervous to meet his family, as he never really talked about them. The first meeting was a terrifying experience, they were quiet, like Yoongi, but as soon as they felt comfortable, it was clear for you to see just where Yoongi’s wit and good humour came from, they were all incredible people, just like Yoongi.
H ⇴ HOME
After a year of dating, he couldn’t wait to make the decision to move out, and in with you. The boys could get on his nerves at times, as much as he loved them. Being with you and having some time away from them was what he needed, and as he knew your relationship was ready to be taken to the next step, he knew he would be there to take it.
I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”
It took you by complete surprise when he was the first one to say, “I love you.” The two of you were laid in bed, he thought you were asleep as he wrapped his arms around you. You were peaceful, and looked so cute, making him smile as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering those three words. You pretended not to hear it, but the following morning, teased him for some time before saying it back.
J ⇴ JEALOUSY
Usually he didn’t get jealous, but if he was in a particularly needy mood, he’d certainly make it clear he wanted your attention on you. You’d know, because he would get affectionate in public, which he never did. When you could feel his hand on your body, you knew that he wanted you to be with him, and not anyone else. Most of the time his jealousy would be towards the boys when they tried to wind him up by getting too close to you, as he silently seethed at the other end of the room, keeping a very close eye on you, and them.
K ⇴ KIDS
You were reluctant to bring up the topic of starting a family, as you weren’t entirely sure where Yoongi stood. When he bought it up for the first time and told you that he wanted to have kids with you, you were surprised, but happy. It hadn’t been something he’d thought of before, but with you, he couldn’t help but look to the future and think about what it might include, especially the thought of being able to have a family with you.
L ⇴ LAUGHTER
Sometimes he was a hard nut to crack, but when you got him laughing, it was impossible to get him to stop. He could make you laugh too, either with a funny comment, or little noises that you made were enough to get you giggling. Together, you’d laughed your ways out of some tricky situations, you loved to make him laugh when he was getting stressed, forgetting about his worries, even just for a moment. Every day, he’d make you laugh, just by being him. Half the time he didn’t even realise he was doing it, but you definitely did.
M ⇴ MISSING
He’d try and pretend that he never missed you, but deep down he did. Around the boys he’d pretend he was fine, but when he got back to his hotel, he’d be checking his phone straight away, and if you hadn’t text, he’d ring you to see why. He constantly worried about you, and you could tell. He’d pretend he was fine, pretend that he didn’t really care, but you knew when he spoke and asked constant questions that he was worrying, and that he was desperate to make sure you were doing alright. Everything about being away from you sucked, but he tried to put the smile on his face the best he could when he was away.
N ⇴ NICKNAMES
He wasn’t big on pet names, so usually liked when you called him, ‘Yoongs,’ whilst for you, he tended to stick to the traditional ones, ‘jagi,’ or, ‘love,’ were his two personal favourites to address you by.
O ⇴ OBSESSION
Yoongi was obsessed with your face, he loved to kiss it and touch it. He was known to hide your makeup when he wanted you to look natural and play with your hair when he was sleepy.
P ⇴ PDA
Like was said, Yoongi wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA, he tended to keep his affection for behind clothes, but if he was jealous, he wouldn’t oppose PDA. He liked to talk about you in interviews and V Lives, but he’d still be aware of people watching, and so tended to wait until you were home to give you a cuddle.
Q ⇴ QUESTIONS
From your first date, Yoongi loved to ask questions about you, he wanted to get to know as much about you as possible. Over time, his questions tended to search more for advice rather than information about you.
R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS
He’d never tell you this, but Yoongi loved to brag to everyone about the two of you, especially your sex life. He loved to brag to all the boys, at times he’d nearly been caught out when you’d been around, but luckily kept things quiet. Being in a relationship was something he was incredibly smug about, and he wasn’t afraid to remind the boys every day exactly what he went home to every night.
S ⇴ SEX
It normally is dominant on Yoongi’s part, but he still likes to make it intimate and romantic. If life is busy, he isn’t afraid of a quickie wherever it is you might be. He likes to wrap his arms around you, and lead you, taking care of you and appreciating every part of your body, reminding you just why he loved you. Afterwards, he’d always cuddle you for a while and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. Sex was often the time he was most open and emotional.
T ⇴ TEXTS
Every day he would text you, it could be something incredibly random, but the buzz he got when he saw a text from you on his phone always made it worth it. If you hadn’t text, he’d always be onto you making sure you were doing well.
U ⇴ UNIVERSE
You were his absolute world, you brought him out of his shell and gave him a lot more confidence. It was only when the two of you were apart, did he realise just how important you were and how much he needed you in his life, always.
V ⇴ VACATION
Going on holiday wasn’t one of Yoongi’s favourite things to do, but for you, he’d make an exception. He liked to travel and explore with you, usually quite close to home, but also liked having the time at home. It didn’t mind where in the world he was, as long as he was with you, he always felt like he really was home.
W ⇴ WHINING
If things didn’t go his way, he wasn’t afraid to whine to get your attention or what he wanted, making squeaky noises that he knew would get on your nerves.
X ⇴ XXXXX
Little kisses were your favourites from Yoongi, pecks that took you by surprise always made you smile. After long days he’d shower you in kisses, and give you cuddles to try and make himself feel better. When he wanted something from you, his hands would wrap around you, cuddles were everything to him, so he’d keep you close, deepening the kiss to make sure that you stayed close to him so that he could kiss your lips.
Y ⇴ YOU
You were his everything, the one thing he needed more than anything else.
Z ⇴ ZZZ
He didn’t need you to sleep, but it certainly helped having you there. He was incredibly cuddly when he was sleepy, he loved to lay in until late in the morning, snuggle under the duvet and rest, keeping you cuddled into his side.
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Masterlist
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