#I miss when I only wrote fluff with barely any angst. I still don’t deal with it well

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Ao3 being down is always so tragic for me, I literally bounce back between two sites, and one is taken from me. Which means I have to work on my WIPs or read my library books (I finished reading the joy luck club today). I really should be trying to figure out something for duncney week but my muse is just not biting. Instead I’m about 3k into an extra chapter for something I wanted to remain a one shot (granted I set it up for more… I just have a hard time keeping fics to a one and done deal I guess)

[tendouluvr]

not telling them you’re pregnant - f!reader

- fluff, sliiiight angst maybe

- characters: suna, sakusa, semi

- warnings: pregnancy (i don’t go into detail of giving birth or anything), cravings, morning sickness aka throwing up, two mention of the act of sex in semi’s, some cursing

- wc: 1.4k, 888, 946

a/n: it’s f!reader cuz pregnancy but there’s no specific pronouns/gendered terms used

also idk how suna got so long, he was the last one i wrote for bc i couldnt think of anything lmao

[2. iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama]

SUNA

#! suna has been practicing late into the night the past few weeks

#! there’s a big game coming up and the entire team is feeling the pressure and adrenaline from the crunch time

#! you haven’t been feeling too good lately, a lot heavier and more tired than usual

#! thinking it was just stress from work and the missing presence of your boyfriend, you pushed through it and thought it would go away in the next few days

#! unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side and you started to get sudden needs to throw up

#! it didn’t take you long to realize why your physical and mental drive have been down lately

#! you’re pregnant

#! or you believe you are

#! you bought a few tests, some of different brands so you can have a variety, and headed home to confirm your suspicion

#! a few minutes later, staring back at you was multiple positive symbols and the bolded ‘PREGNANT’s

#! taking a few deep breaths, you decided to tell suna tonight once he comes home

#! you thought it was better to let him know as soon as possible

#! it wouldn’t hurt anyone plus the faster you rip the bandaid off, the easier it’ll be to deal with it

#! so you waited

#! and waited

#! until 11pm that night, when suna finally came through the front door

#! “tarō! how was practice? can we talk?” you hurriedly greeted him

#! he was taken aback, not expecting you to be right beside him and in his ear as soon as he came in

#! of course you weren’t, you made sure to put some space in between you and him

#! but suna was stressed and tired, so everything is intensified to him at the moment

#! “can you back up?” he mumbled, pushing his way from in front of you to walk to the kitchen

#! “oh, sorry. can we talk?” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he would say yes

#! you’re not blind, you can tell that suna was tired but you really didn’t wanna put this off

#! you were just gonna tell him, he gets surprised, you both talk it out, and then go to bed and continue figuring things out tomorrow morning

#! but before any of that can happen, suna bluntly told you, “no. i’m tired. i’m sure whatever it is isn’t a big deal. can it be tomorrow? i wanna sleep.”

#! you didn’t get to answer before he was already walking away to the bedroom

#! understanding where he was coming from, you mentally agreed to talk to him tomorrow. one day wouldn’t change anything and you’ve seen plenty of people not tell their partners until a few weeks in

#! he was right, it wasn’t a big deal (yet)

#! so you waited until tomorrow

#! and waited

#! and once again, he came home late

#! “hey! can we quickly talk, babe?”

#! “i’m tired. tomorrow, okay?”

#! “oh, okay. night, rin!”

#! “g’night.”

#! night came and there was still no talk

#! this continued on for about 2 weeks, you finally choosing to not care anymore and just let him find out whenever he finds out

#! technically, you could’ve just blurted out a simple, “i’m pregnant.” any point during your nightly five seconds conversations

#! but seeing that he really was tired, springing it onto him would either put him in a full body shock for three days or he just doesn’t fully process your words until three days after

#! a month has passed, your stomach was still barely showing like most women at their one month mark

#! you decided to book an appointment for a checkup, it’ll be while suna’s at practice

#! and that doctor appointment was the exact reason suna found out

#! he was at practice when komori entered the gym

#! he had a doctor’s appointment for his annual checkup, and that’s where he saw you

#! you didn’t see komori, busy reading the directory to find your way to the right office

#! but he saw you on the way out. seeing that you looked a bit busy, he chose not to greet you and just quickly walk to his car lmao why is this funny to me

#! entering the gym, he greeted everyone and apologized for his tardiness even though it was excused

#! walking up to suna, he tapped him on the shoulder and quietly told him, “i saw yn at the hospital earlier. it’s been awhile since we all got together huh, they looked a bit different.”

#! ok so komori, being the smart person he is, deducted that you were pregnant when he saw your finger pointing at the ob/gyn office

#! and he genuinely thought suna knew so his comment was suppose to be a small joke that was meant to tease suna and his sex life

#! suna, however, was confused

#! look different? did you get surgery?

#! “what do you mean?”

#! komori rolled his eyes and gave a sweet smile at suna, “congrats you two! when were you gonna tell the rest of us?”

#! suna: 👨‍🦲 huh

#! “are you guys not pregnant?” he blinked at suna’s frozen reaction

#! suna became unresponsive so komori just walked away mumbling to himself about being sure he read the sign right

#! a loud whistle blew and it shook suna out of his daze, everyone got ready to play a practice game of 3 vs 3 while suna ran over to the coach

#! “hey coach, um i think there’s an emergency at home. can i go? ok thanks.”

#! his coach just stares after him as he sprints off, you think? is there an emergency or not?

#! suna quickly drove home, he may or may not have speed a little, and entered the apartment

#! “yn? baby?” he called out only to be greeted back with silence

#! probably still at the hospital....what were you doing there? he thought to himself while rummaging around the house to find anything that could give him somewhat of an idea

#! he was digging around in the bedroom when you came home, his head so frenzied he didn’t hear the front door open

#! but you heard the ruckus from the bedroom and immediately went into fight or flight

#! panicking, you took out your phone to call suna while quietly opening the front door to make your way back out before the intruder catches you

#! the phone rang and rang until it was picked up. “suna?” you whisper-yelled into the speaker. you had a habit of calling him by his last name when you were freaking out. he noticed and was equally alarmed

#! “what’s wrong?” he whispered back just as panicked

#! “there’s someone in our apartment. can you come home?”

#! “huh? oh, are you home?” he cackles into the phone speaker making you move the phone away from your ear, “it’s me, sweets, c’mere.”

#! you warily walked on your tiptoes over to your bedroom, peeking your head in and what a surprise, it is suna

#! “jackass! why are you home?!”

#! “why didn’t you tell me?” he cut straight to the point

#! “huh?”

#! “you’re pregnant. when were you gonna tell me?” his voice sounding stern, but the quiet smile dancing on his face tells a different story

#! “i tried.”

#! “huh? what do you mean?”

#! “all those times i asked if we could talk. i was trying to tell you.”

#! his heart dropped, eyebrows furrowing, while he stared you down

#! suna became unresponsive once again, standing there trying to think back to the first time you asked him

#! two weeks ago

#! “i’m sorry,” he quietly whispers

#! “hm? i..it’s fine....i was a bit sad, but i’m over it. at least you know now,” you casually shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal

#! “no. i shouldn’t have pushed you aside like that. even if you weren’t pregnant, even if you had just wanted to tell me about some stupid video you saw that day, i shouldn’t have told you off. i’m sorry, i love you a lot and you deserve so much better.”

#! “tarō, shut up. i accept your apology and i forgive you, now make it up to me by giving me a back massage while i show you the ultrasound pictures!”

#! he kisses you before lifting you up bridal style making his way to the bed

SAKUSA

#! contrary to popular beliefs, sakusa is not an obsessive germaphobe who finds everything disgusting but you

#! he wouldn’t be playing volleyball if he was that afraid of germs,,,,,

#! yes, he cringes if random little kids grab onto him after games because 1) he’s drenched in sweat and that feeling is not fun

#! 2) he doesn’t even know themmm

#! and 3) he wanna go home

#! but sakusa loves you and if you happened to get pregnant, he would love your kid(s) just the same

#! however, he never told you this. he never really had a reason to voice this out loud

#! so when you actually did get pregnant, you were confused

#! the only interactions between sakusa and kids you’ve seen multiple times were the moments between him and his fans

#! you guys have been to family parties and his nieces, nephews, and cousins looooves him

#! maybe it’s the fact that he’s a tall looming giant and they just want to climb

#! but besides those moments, you don’t recall him ever telling you upfront that he wants children of his own

#! and the constant stress and pressure he always seem to be working around also doesn’t help reassure you in any way

#! being an athlete for a living means always watching your body, health, and looks for the cameras (but omi could care less about the last thing)

#! he also has to make sure whether or not he’s working well with his teammates, practice and improve on anything he’s having problems with, and deal with atsumu’s dramatic ass

#! you’re an overthinker and because of that, all of these reasons were just reasons for you to postpone the pregnancy news to your long term boyfriend

#! it wasn’t too hard anyway, considering practice runs late sometimes and he’s busy majority of the time doing other stuff

#! when you guys do have alone time together, you both are so focused on one another that you actually forget that you’re pregnant and you never told him

#! you’re about to hit the three months mark now — time goes by fast — and sakusa has noticed you and your body changing

#! at first he just thought you were going through a phase of cravings and a bit of bloating, so he didn’t mention it and just let you be

#! he never got to witness you getting morning sickness because he goes on early runs or he was just out doing morning errands so he wouldn’t have to deal with it later that day

#! so when he caught you in the kitchen cutting up a lemon, the last thing he was expecting you to do was bring the lemon directly up to your mouth

#! “uh, what are you doing?” his deep voice caught you off guard, effectively stopping the hand that was holding the lemon

#! you just stare at him, not wide-eyed, not surprised, just stare

#! “eating a lemon.”

#! “i can see that.... why exactly?”

#! “dunno, the baby i guess.” you casually shrugged it off before popping the lemon slice into your mouth

#! “ah-,” he opened his mouth to stop you from eating the lemon, your words not fully processing in his mind, but cut off midway and froze when he finally realized

#! hearing him pause like that made you suddenly remembered that you never told him you were pregnant

#! you slowly turned back to look at him, mouth still slowly chewing the lemon slices

#! a moment of silence later, he unfreezes and just starts stiffly walking towards you

#! he grabbed you by the shoulders, made you look him in the eyes, before whispering, “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “y-yes..”

#! his eyes were wide, black pupils expanding as he stared you down, his lips slowly curving into a small smile

#! “you’re pregnant....,” he whispers, mainly to himself, hugging your head into his chest

#! “mhm, get off me i’m trying to eat,” you gently pushed him off but he wouldn’t budge

#! “omiiii please, if you get off i’ll give you a slice,” you tried bribing him. he couldn’t tell if you were being serious or just teasing

#! “no.”

#! “um ok, two slices?”

#! “no.”

#! “omi!”

#! he giggles before opening his arms to let you go

#! “why didn’t you tell me?”

#! you didn’t reply right away, making him start to overthink

#! did you not want the baby? or did you not want a kid with him? did you not want to be with him anymore? or was it not his?!

#! he childishly shakes his head side to side at the last question. he knew you wouldn’t do that

#! but you were still silent, making him nervously glance at you from the side

#! “sorry, piece of lemon stuck in my teeth. i just forgot to tell you,” the words easily flowing out of your mouth nonchalantly

#! sakusa’s fingers were literally about to start twitching from anxiousness beside you

#! a sigh of relief was heard from him and you turned to look at him

#! “you okay?”

#! he doesn’t answer, just gives you a smile and goes back to hugging you from behind

SEMI

#! you were currently sitting on the couch in your shared apartment waiting for semi to come home

#! he’s been on tour for a few months now, you both kept in touch by facetiming, texting, calling, and any other methods of virtual communication

#! you would tune into the live recording of all of his performances when you had time so you could watch him

#! a few weeks into tour, you suddenly felt different than usual but shook it off as nothing and probably just you missing your boyfriend

#! you believed that until one morning you were woken up by the sudden urge to throw up, dashing to the restroom as fast as your drowsy body can go

#! it was then that you realized you might be pregnant

#! the night before semi left, you both had sex to enjoy your last few hours together before he had to leave for a few months

#! with the new realization, you quickly dressed yourself to make a short trip to the store to pick up some tests

#! after half an hour of looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to wrap your head around this, you finally opened the first box

#! a few minutes later, all 5 tests were lined up on the bathroom counter showing positive

#! you stared at the tests, trying to make sure you weren’t reading it wrong

#! once you began to understand the responsibility of being pregnant a few hours later, you made a mental note to go out and buy some food for yourself the next day

#! you decided to sleep off the rest of that day

#! through all of the facetime calls with semi, you never once told him you were pregnant

#! you knew that if you told him he would freak out and either demand to go back home, or stay but all of his attention would be on you being pregnant alone at home for the rest of the tour

#! so here you are now, sitting with a 4 1/2 months baby bump waiting for your beloved to come home

#! it was around 6pm when the front door opened, sounds of shuffling bags and heavy steps could be heard from the musician

#! he cursed under his breath when he almost tripped over a duffle bag with some of his loungewear, calling out for you as he walks further into the apartment, “baby? i’m home!”

#! he was about to speak up again when he saw you asleep on the couch

#! bouncing his way over, he got onto his knees at the edge of the couch to observe your face. god i miss you, he thought to himself

#! he gently shakes you awake, you jolted in surprise not knowing you fell asleep in the first place

#! “hmm- what?,” soft murmurs falling from your lips as you adjusted your eyes at your surrounding

#! “eita!” he grinned at you, both of you pulling each other into a hug

#! “fuck, i miss you so much.” he whispered into your ears before placing his face into your neck

#! “i miss you more.” you tightened your grip around him making him move up on the couch to get more comfortable

#! you both moved around until he had you cradled in between him, your back against his chest

#! his hands going under your his shirt to caress you there when his movements stopped right on top of your stomach

#! it was silent as his warm hands rubbed your stomach in circles, the gears turning in his head

#! “are you- you feel- why’s your tum so round and hard?” he quizzically asked, still rubbing your stomach

#! “pregnant.” your voice a low whisper, he almost didn’t catch it

#! “what?”

#! “pregnant.” you repeated, a bit louder this time

#! “huh?”

#! “pregnant!” you sighed, moving his hand so you can get off of him

#! he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking away and turns you to look at him

#! “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “i just said that. yes.”

#! you knew you sounded blunt and a bit mean, it wasn’t his fault he doesn’t know at all, but your hormones have been making you crankier and it’s out of your control

#! “sorry. yes, i’m pregnant.”

#! his eyes continuously darts up and down from your eyes to your bump

#! “how long?”

#! “since you left.”

#! “was it the night before?” he was referring to your act of intimacy the night before he left

#! “yea.”

#! “wow. why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “because.”

#! “‘cuz what?”

#! “because i know you. you would either stop touring and come home, or stay but lose focus. i was just trying to not distract you because i know how important your career is to you. and because i thought that you’ll be having a six months break after this tour before your next comeback, i would tell you when you came home. i’m sorry if you’re ma-,”

#! “i’m not mad. oh don’t cry, babe, look at me.”he carefully cups your face, “it’s okay, it’s okay. i get why you kept it from me. and now that i have no schedule for the next six months, i can be there for you until the end of your pregnancy and the beginning of our baby’s life alright?”

#! you weakly nodded against his palms, and he brings you back down to lay your head on his chest as you both softly talk about the past months without each other

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger - The Finale

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst, not intended to be a historical au. 

Word Count: 28k

Warnings: depictions of violence, death, blood, choking, mentions of battle, heavy angst (happy endings only), LONGING, explicit language, mentions of grief, mentions of loss, mentions of insecurity, explicit smut: scratching, biting, lovebites, unprotected sex. 

A/N: welp :( This is the end for now folks. I can’t believe I finally finished a series on this freakin’ blog lol. I am so incredibly grateful for your patience. I truly hope you enjoy it and if you do, I would love to hear from you. Whilst this is the end of the series, I wouldn’t be surprised if I wrote drabbles for it in the future so, if there is anything you’d like to see more of, please let me know :D

A few thank you notes to my sisters from across the globe @yoonia​ and @randombtsprincessa​, the two of you are so important to me and, I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love you lots. 

To @kithtaehyung @missgeniality​ @noelleydances​ thank you for always hyping me up and, being willing to chat with silly ol me. You’re all amazing and I LOVE YOU ALOT.

To @gldnrecs LISTEN IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW, LAY. I am so thankful you and, your willingness to scream with me in my dms. I’m so honored to know you and, I hope you know that I am always here if you need anything. ALSO HAPPY COLLEGE GRADUATION YOU FREAKING GENIUS. Please consider this (and Hobi’s conclusion specifically) my graduation present. Love you. 

Love letter to Rachel: It’s very important for anyone who comes across this story to know that I would have NEVER EVER EVER be able to conjure up this universe without the help of my bestie @bulletproofbirdy​. My friend, you are a genius and, it has truly been such an honor designing this world with you. I am so grateful that I’ve been able to create something with someone as amazing as you but, ON TOP OF IT??? We became so close that we literally talk every single day. I don’t know what to say without being the mushiest person ever but, I just want to thank you for being you. Without your love, your support and your BIG BRAIN, I would have never finished this series. I hope it lives up to all of your expectations. I love you. 

The clouds hung in the air with a heaviness that was almost palpable. Storm season was looming over the horizon and, although you’re aware that the rain is more than overdue, you still feel a sense of doom clinging to your subconscious. This time of year, arrives like clockwork and your village is well-equipped to deal with all the rainfall, the thunder, the lightening...

But there was always a chance that the river would flood and thus there was always a chance for tragedy to strike; a chance for everything you’ve ever known to be swallowed whole. You know you can’t stop a flood. The water operates on its own axis, untethered by human convenience. It terrifies you yes but, you’re fascinated none the less.

With a deep sigh, you step away from the edge of the river. The soft bubbling of the water is intriguing you, eliciting a yearning within you to step inside just one last time. However, you know the bite of the water would be too much to handle on your bare feet and you really don’t want to catch a cold before the winter season has even started.

Turning around, the breath you are preparing to take gets lodged deep in the center of your throat. It’s Yoongi and he’s reaching out for you but the look of pain on his face alerts you that something is horribly wrong.

“Y/n...” He croaks, his eyes wide with fear as he reaches out to you and it’s then that you see the blood dripping from his fingers. Your eyes frantically travel down his figure before realizing the source of the blood.

A wound similar to that of a sword brandishes his lower stomach, staining his tunic and causing the bile in your stomach to swirl uncomfortably.

He’s hurt.

He’s hurt badly.

“Yoongi!” You cry to him, your heartbeat rising to a level that feels painful.

As you try to run to him however, he falls to his knees, the life sparking in his eyes one last time before he collapses.

The scream coming from your lips is unrecognizable but, thankfully it draws you upright in your bed, informing you that horrible scene you just witnessed, was only a dream.

You clutch your hand to your chest, breathing heavily, your eyes stinging as they well up with tears. Without thinking, you sob into the clasped hand over your lips, trying your best to calm down but the morbid images continue to assault your mind over and over.

The light streaming in through your window, informs you that the sun has risen. At least your nightmare had allowed you to sleep a full night before rudely interrupting. You swallow back another sob, forcing a deep breath through your nose while you remind yourself that Yoongi is ok.

But you can’t know that for sure, can you?

The small break in your logic is enough to make you rush out of bed and into your coat, not bothering to fix your appearance as you shove your feet into your shoes. Thankfully, your parents are still sleeping soundly in their beds when you bustle through the main room and towards the door.

You have to see for yourself; even a glimpse of him could loosen the grip that fear currently has on your mind. You take the back way to avoid the marketplace which already shows signs of coming to life. You would need to make it quick to avoid missing the morning crowd: that’s usually where most of your sale’s come from.

With everything in you, you hope that he’s already awake because if he isn’t, you’d just have to move on without the reassurance, which is what you should do anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to let it go.

Thankfully, Yoongi is awake and by the looks of it, he’s out with the new recruits, running drills in the grass right in front of their camp. You see Jungkook out there as well, assisting one of the men with his form as he brandishes a sword.

The sight floods your mind with images of your dream once again, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

He’s ok though, so regardless of the images, you feel content seeing him in good health. Logically, you know you need to go about your day and allow him to go about his but, as you move to turn back towards the village- he notices you.

At first, a smile passes over his lips almost involuntarily but, his keen observation skills notice something is array. You see him gesture to his men to continue before he starts making his way in your direction.

Embarrassment washes over you without any warning and you try and wave him off, reassuring him that everything is ok, but he ignores it and jogs over anyway.

“Good morning-” He murmurs, his hands reaching out for yours. As he laces his fingers between your own, he tilts his head, “Are you ok?”

Instinctively, you nod but when you open your mouth to say something, nothing comes out.

Glancing up towards his face, your eyes pass over the area your mind brandished with blood and, without thinking, you throw your arms around him.

Yoongi is a little taken aback but he reciprocates nonetheless, his arms encircling you and pressing you against his chest. You feel a sigh of relief leave your lips as you cling to his robe, breathing in the subtle scent of him.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

The whisper of your voice sends an aching into his chest and although you don’t disclose exactly what happened, Yoongi trusts that you had a valid reason for checking on his well-being.

With a soft smile, he presses a kiss to your temple, “I feel a little more than ok now...” He confirms before pulling back to look into your eyes, “May I do my own wellness check?”

There is a playfulness to his tone that softens the hard exterior of your residual panic and you bite your bottom lip when you nod.

His expression grows pensive as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts your face from left to right, his own head following the motions whilst he narrows his eyes,

“Hm, nothing out of the ordinary here...” He grins, his blonde hair rustling slightly with the pace of the wind, eyes alight with fondness, “Still beautiful- still curious, still driving me insane because, I don’t know what’s going through her head...”

A small bit of laughter leaves your lips as you slide your hand up his forearm before settling gently on his wrist. With your fingertips, you press lightly against the bone beneath his skin, relishing in any tangible part of him you can touch, “I had a nightmare about you.”

He purses his lips together, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, “Did I turn into a tiger and try to eat you? My men have told me they had this dream quite a lot during training...”

Yoongi attempts to keep his tone playful but he looks slightly deflated now as he waits for your response.

With a small smile, you shake your head tightly. You take his hand away from your chin, lacing your fingers together, ensuring that the grip you have on him is tight.

“No. You were-”A sigh leaves your lips whilst you shake your head, “You were hurt.” You spare him the details, “I woke up and just started running over here to make sure you were ok...it’s a bit silly now that I’m thinking of it.”

Yoongi can’t help but smile at you, his heart flourishing with the promise new romance often makes. He is saddened that you were worried on his account but, he would be lying if he said that this wasn’t endearing.

Ok- so perhaps it was extremely endearing.

“And if I wasn’t ok?” He wraps his arms around you, “Would you have come to my rescue?”

The smirk on his lips makes him all the more handsome and the feeling of his hands on the small of your back, makes your mind fuzzier than you’d care to admit.

“I would have-” Your voice grows higher with determination which causes Yoongi to chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, “Why are you laughing???? Do you doubt my ability to hold my own on the battlefield?”

Yoongi’s laughter is choppy and warm, it soothes every sore spot of anxiety in your head in almost medicinal way.

You wish you could hear the sound more.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, still chuckling a bit, “In fact, I think you’d make a fine solider, ma'am. It’s just-” He glances down at your feet, “I don’t usually recommend wearing house slippers on the battlefield.”

The rolling of your eyes, brings Yoongi’s laughter back into the conversation.

“I would have managed just fine, thank you. You underestimate how powerful house slippers can be when brandished by the right person.”

He raises his brows, “Is that right? You wouldn’t need a sword then? Just your slippers?”

“Mhm.” You grumble with certainty, your fingers finding the ends of the hair hanging down from his pony tail, “My slippers and my wit are more powerful than any weapons you have here.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound low and slow in the base of his throat, “Now that sounds a bit more realistic- that mouth of yours would certainly be enough to guarantee your victory.”

As he’s replying, you’re gently tracing your fingertips up the length of his spine, admiring the strength clearly present in the muscles of his back.

“Hm-” You muse, stealing a look directly into his eyes, “I do hope to show you what my mouth is capable of someday-” Fluttering your lids innocently, you try to stop the smirk from taking over your mouth but, when Yoongi’s grip tightens on you, it takes over anyway.

Drawing a deep breath through his nose, you see his Adam’s apple bob in the center of his throat as his jaw fills up with tension. An audible swallow comes from him as his gaze slowly shifts from playful to perturbed.

“I find it ironic that you’ve chosen to threaten my wellbeing…whilst in the middle of a wellness check …”

You hum with a sense of false innocence, “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.”

“You’re dangerous” He murmurs, and you don’t miss the lust that coats his voice, “and unarmed...” A chuckle leaves his lips then as he presses his hands further into your skin, “and in your house slippers. I think you might be the biggest threat I’ve ever encountered.”

This makes you giggle now, dropping the salacious tone from your voice but, as you lean up to press a kiss to his lips- a voice brings your motions to a halt.

“General Tiger! Are you going to join your men for training this morning or were you planning on teaching them the art of seduction?”

It’s Jin and he’s stood outside their tent with his arms crossed. It’s then that you notice the lack of movement in his camp. Most of the recruits were sort of standing around awkwardly, many of them sneaking a glance at the two of you.

They look rather shocked at Jin’s choice of words, expecting Yoongi’s wrath but instead he merely smirks and leans in so his lips are at your ear before whispering, “We’ll talk about this later...”

His slightly menacing tone sends excitement rushing into your chest as you reluctantly pull away from him.

You salute him, “Yes sir.”

Yoongi forces a breath out of his nostrils, shaking his head at you, “You’re going to kill me one day.” He mutters to himself as he practically saunters back to his camp.

Yoongi is still smirking as he returns amidst his group of men, which Jin promptly comments on.

“Even after a decade with you, you still surprise me.” He notes, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.

“Third line, run those last two again! I need you sharper than that!” Yoongi calls out to his men, replacing his commanding expression with one full of nonchalance, “What are you referring to?”

Jin merely nods to the place the two of you had just been canoodling in, “I wasn’t sure that I’d ever see the day you took a partner- let alone the day that you’d publicly display affection for one. I wouldn’t necessarily think to question it but-”

Yoongi smirks, his eyes on the men in front of him but his focus clearly elsewhere, “And yet here you are...”

Jin rolls his eyes, “You can’t possibly blame me. I mean, you have a reputation that spans across the entirety of this land- does it concern you that they might mark you as vulnerable? From what I’ve gathered around the plaza, many of these villagers have already began to view you more casually.”

Yoongi’s smirk never fades as he calls out another command to the recruits, “If an enemy brands me as vulnerable- that is an error on their end, not on mine. In fact, I imagine it would bode quite well for me in the end. In regard to the villagers viewing me in a certain light- I can’t say I mind. Being feared was never something I asked for- you know this well. I would hope that more of the people I’ve served find me approachable.”

Jin doesn’t look convinced, knowing Yoongi far too well to believe that this was the end of his explanation, “There is more to it than that, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have other motives for being so open about her.”

Yoongi tilts his head in thought, still not bothering to look at him, “I just don’t think it hurts to send a message, to anyone who might be observing us.”

Jin scoffs at his vagueness, attempting eye contact, “What message might that be?”

Finally, Yoongi turns towards him, the ghost of his previous smirk on his mouth, “That she is both protected and accounted for.”

With that, Yoongi draws his sword and heads back amongst the large crowd of men who, having finished their drills, were now eagerly awaiting his instruction.

Jin finds himself smirking as well now, undeniably intrigued by his general’s newfound attitude.

Your day in the marketplace moves slowly but, you find yourself largely unphased. With a mind full of budding romance and unresolved passion, it’s difficult to focus on the mundanity of everyday life.

“So- “ Jane begins, with a curious gaze as the two of you begin packing up your wares for the day, “I’ve seen you over at the military camp quite a lot these past few weeks...”

Unable to resist, you roll your eyes at her observation whilst lining your bags with your belongings, “I’ve been making bread for the battalion.”

You’ve learned over the years of working with Jane that keeping your responses to a minimum is a good idea, particularly when she decides to fish for information.

She has an impressive habit of picking your words apart in search of anything potentially scandalous.

“Oh? So I suppose canoodling with their leader is just a part of your services then?”

With wide eyes, your head whips in her direction, “What do you mean?”

Jane chuckles, smoothing her hands over the many fly aways atop her head, “The man clearly moves as though a burden has been lifted from him and, given the way he looks at you every time he visits our plaza- I have no choice but to assume that you were the one to do so.”

Most of the time, you’d shy away from her attempts to gossip but, you’re in a bit of a mood after your earlier encounter with Yoongi so, you decide to give her something to work with. “I am a healer Jane, if I can lift the burden of stress from my patrons- I won’t shy away from the opportunity.”

It’s her turn to widen her eyes now as she chokes back the small gasp coming from her throat, “Are you- are you saying it’s true then? You’ve laid with the Tiger?”

In an almost child-like manner, you giggle to yourself, glancing over at her briefly, “Is it still considered lying with him if I were pressed up against a tree?”

Jane’s face shines like a summer tomato, fit to burst, as she hustles closer to you, “My girl!” She whispers, “What has gotten into you?”

Brushing off leftover debris from your cart, you turn towards her, “Well according to your theory-” You wager, “I suppose it was the Tiger,” You smirk, “Wasn’t it?”

Jane smacks your arm now, causing your laughter to increase in volume, “Y/N! I am shocked by you-” She begins before her features seem to morph back into her previous curiosity, “and slightly impressed...I thought I was the only whore around here.”

“Jane!” You swat her arm now, shaking your head at her and trying your best not to laugh, “Aren’t you married?”

She shrugs, a smirk now present on her lips, “I am but-” She eyes her husband, who is obliviously untangling his fishing line across the plaza, “Morris and I are well-acquainted...” She allows the word to drop from her mouth like maple syrup, “with other members of the village.”

Did she just-

“Whatever satisfies your heart and mind, Jane. I’m glad you and Morris are active community members...” You wave her off, giggling once again and desperately hoping she won’t divulge any further details, “I’ll see you tomorrow...stay out of trouble.”

“Don’t give me advice you know I won’t take Y/N...” She chuckles loudly before calling her husband, “Oh Morris! Don’t forgot we have plans with the minister and his wife this evening!”

Morris’s eyes widen, seeming to understand the hidden implication behind her words as he puts his index finger to his lips in an effort to silence her.

With that disturbing piece of information, you rush out of the plaza before you learn anything else that has the capability of scaring you for life.

Before heading to Rachel’s with her steamed buns, you decide to stop at the library to check out the new arrivals from the Queen’s province. Every month or so, they send new copies of the latest publishing from the capital and, given how coveted they are- you always try to make it to the library on the day of delivery.

You’re able to snag a title on growing herbs in the wintertime before spotting someone you’ve been quite eager to see: Rachel.

You find her perusing the history section, completely unaware of her presence even as you slink up beside her, “Oh hi there- fancy meeting you here; how was meeting your new student?”

Jumping slightly at the unexpected interruption, she pivots towards you before her eyes narrow with accusation, “Oh NO you don’t!” She chides, though her red cheeks suggest something else, “I cannot believe you used my love of teaching to stage a romantic COUP in my own schoolroom!” She rants, eyes wild with disbelief.

Ignoring her completely, you lean against the shelf- admiring the scent of the parchment before repeating your question, “Uh huh yeah-” You dismiss, “How did it go?”

“It went...” She clears her throat, mindlessly running her fingers over the spines resting on the shelves, “very well- it went very well.”

Looking at her expectantly, you raise your brows, “Can you define ‘well’ for the courts please?”

Rachel’s eyes seem to light up all over again as they drift into her story, “I never thought a man like that could be interested in such a quiet life like mine...we hardly know each other but, there is such kindness and passion in his eyes...it feels like I’ve known him for years.”

Seeing your best friend so enamored warms your heart; if anyone deserved happiness in this world, it would be her.

She goes on to tell you everything that happened between the two of them, recounting the nervous glances, flushed cheeks and a romantic confession from Bambi with the biceps himself.

At her conclusion, you’re unable to help the excited squeal that leaves your lips as you wrap your arms around her flushed frame, “I’m so happy for you!!!” Your scream comes out as an excited whisper, not wanting to feel the wrath of the librarian before you recall her earlier comment, “I think your quiet life and impeccable charm is what drew him in, in the first place...” You nudge her playfully, “You should have seen him talking about you- even I was swooning.”

She glows brighter, her figure emanating a bright carnation as she smoothly changes the subject; Rachel will only take the spotlight for so long, “Speaking of swooning, how is that ferocious general for yours, eh?”

Suddenly, you become very interested with a book on the shelf beside you, “Hm? What general? I don’t know a general Rachel, I’m just a silly little medicine woman.”

Her eyes widen as she smacks you playfully, “APOTHECARY!” She corrects and, the two of you giggle like schoolchildren as the librarian shoots daggers in your direction, “Don’t play coy with me- I spilled my guts about Jungkook. Fair is fair.”

Resigned, you let out a sigh and try to contain all of your emotions towards the subject, “Fiiiiine. The general simply explained that...” you look around to make sure no one is listening before lowering your voice, “that the reason we haven’t, hmmm what’s the word-” You pause once more, looking rather pensive, “defiled one another yet, is because he wants to wait until he has no more distractions. Which basically means we must wait until retirement, which of course also means- I am likely to go insane.”

Rachel snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth in an effort to conceal with laughter, “Wow he is serious about his intimacy.” She comments as she places a hand on your shoulder, “It’s been nice knowing you. I will tell the world your story.”

Slumping against her, you groan, feeling the full weight of your impatience, “If you’re wondering whether or not he still kisses me passionately beneath the moonlight despite the fact that he wants to wait- the answer is a resounding yes.” You explain, matter of factly, “it’s like he is wishing for the destruction of my sanity...”

Rachel links arms and giggles once again, “Look at us hm? Being pined for by heroes like in the poems that line these shelves...” She nods to them, “Who have thought?”

“I am slightly regretting all of my daydreams involving a knight in shining armor- who would have thought there would be so much yearning?”

She merely laughs again, shaking her head at you, “Have you two discussed his retirement?”

You nod, “His entire battalion is retiring this year. He said it should be around the wintertime, all of them have been in service for 10 years, including Jungkook.”

“That’s incredible: ten years of such a hard life. I couldn’t imagine. Do you know what they will do?”

“That means Jungkook joined the queen’s army before he was of age,” You observe, furrowing your brow, “I imagine they will retire with their chosen partners. Yoongi said that, that was his plan at least-” Your voice turns slightly coy at the end, “I don’t imagine they will have to work for the rest of their lives. My parents always talk about how well taken care of decorated soldiers are.”

Rachel’s face falls, “I’m just imagining Jungkook choosing this life at such a young age...the things those men have seen and, the rough life they have in service to the two queens...” She shakes her head, “I hope they all find peace and happiness, no matter what they choose.”

You nod, resting your head on her shoulder, “I think they have made their choices already- it all depends on if their partners reciprocate their advances.”

Rachel nudges you when she hears your teasing tone, “Quiet down you, we’re in the library...”

After much more giggling and, gushing over the men that have stolen your hearts, the two of you part ways.

Rachel has an evening to prepare for after all...

She rushes home after her time at the library. The books she gathered for her lesson on Monday are carefully placed on her bookshelf and, the ingredients for tonight’s meal are sprawled out on her countertop.

As she begins the long process of preparing for her night with Jungkook, she allows her mind to wander to a place she seldom visits: the past.

Like most people, she finds indulging in this subject to be quite the slippery slope. Today, she finds herself remembering a time where finding love seemed like nothing more than an elaborate fantasy. Rachel is a brilliant woman yes, but she has mistakenly branded herself as invisible for most of her life.

Now, she is faced with the reality that not only does someone see her but, they are enamored with her.

It’s slightly terrifying.

Another quiet breath is pulled through her nose then as she smooths her hands over her dress once more.

Glancing back towards the home she’s shared with herself over the years, a small smile comes over her face as she realizes that she might need to get used to the idea of sharing.

But then again, it will be nice to have someone around during the winter...

Especially when that someone has biceps like Jungkook.

Rachel waves at a group of students who scream her name excitedly from across the street whilst desperately hoping that they don’t try to follow her to her destination.

With another deep breath, she begins heading out of the market plaza and into the deep emerald of the clearing just before the camp. Normally around this time, she would be heading there with Y/N to deliver bread but, tonight she takes a sharp left into forest.

She had given Jungkook instructions on how to get there and he had then insisted on getting there before her to set things up. Rachel realized at that moment that her ability to refuse him was at a minimum, especially when he flashed those beautiful eyes her way.

Curse him and his ethereal beauty.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, she navigates through the maze of trees as the sound of running water slowly makes its way into her ears. A smile comes across her lips then, as she realizes she’s getting close.

The sun is beginning to take the minimal warmth of the day with it as it begins its descent towards the horizon and, she feels slightly regretful that she chose to meet with him around sunset.

Sometimes you have to sacrifice body heat for the ambience.

As she nears one of the many pools that come off of the main river, she finally sees Jungkook waiting for her. Slowly but surely, she can make out his appearance for the evening and as she does, her heart swoons.

He’s standing somewhat awkwardly at the edge of a large tan woolen blanket, dressed in a red tunic and red cloth pants, with his onyx locks freshly washed and curling in various directions atop his head. She sees him swallow at the sight of her, the tiniest of smiles etching onto his lips.

“Good evening.” He bows slightly, gesturing to her, “You look- um, you look very nice.”

She returns his smile, fingers clutching the basket of food a bit tighter, “Good evening. I could say the same to you, red looks really great on you.”

His stance seems to light up at her compliment, the tiny smile growing, “That’s what my hyungs said, I wasn’t sure if it was too much but, if you like it then-” He nods, cringing at how nervous he feels, “-then that’s good.”

Rachel bites her lip, noticing his nerves immediately, “I love it,” She assures him before raising the basket up, “I brought dumplings. I wasn’t sure what kind you liked so I brought a few different ones.”

At the mention of food, the tension within his figure seems to dissipate.

“I can’t wait to try them,” He grins now as he gestures to the blanket, “You can sit wherever you’d like, I can take those from you-” He shakes his head then, regretting his choice of words, “No wait... here-” He is gentle as he takes the basket from her before turning around to set it carefully on the blanket. He then reaches out with his palm extended, “I’ll help you down...”

Her heart bursts.

It seems she isn't the only one flooded with nervous excitement.

“Thank you-” She insures to heighten the gratitude within her tone, wanting to soothe his anxiety in any way she can, despite feeling so much of her own.

He plops next to her in a less graceful manner then he would have hoped as he looks regretfully toward his canteen, “We don’t have an extra canteen in the camp. They were all given away to the new recruits. I would have brought you your own but, I washed mine for you and filled it up. I can drink from the river over there.”

“Oh goodness no, you don’t have to do that-” She shakes your head, pulling out her canteen from the basket, “I figured you would have had your own; I should have brought you one just in case though-”

“No really, it’s ok! I can just use mine.” Once again, he cringes, “I guess it’s a bit strange that I would have thought you’d want to drink from mine...I don’t know what I was thinking.”

At the rather innocent pout on his lips, he looks up at her- feeling slightly hopeless.

A bit of silence lingers in the air for a moment before Rachel giggles and at the sound, Jungkook’s lips twitch.

“It’s not a good sign that you’re already laughing-” He laments, the smiling that was threatening his mouth fully taking over, “Even though I quite like hearing it...”

Rachel places a cautious hand over Jungkook’s knuckles, relishing in the warmth of his skin, “I promise you it is-“ She disagrees, “It’s important that I’m around people I can laugh with- even if its at our own expense sometimes…”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth turns up in a half smile, “That might work out in my favor then- my hyungs say I appear one way but, behave another…I guess that’s why I feel so nervous now…”

He looks up at her quite innocently through his long eyelashes as Rachel furrows her brow, “What do you mean?”

Jungkook’s fingers are now aimlessly toying with the bit of loose thread and, with her heightened sense of empathy, Rachel can sense that he is burdened in some way.

“I am slightly afraid that you will be disappointed when you get to know me…” He admits.

This shocks Rachel as she cannot imagine how someone as beautiful as Jungkook could lack confidence in any capacity. But still, she feels the urge to understand him.

“Well, I don’t want to discount your worries Mr. Jeon but, “ She tilts her head slightly, a hint of sternness in her gaze, “I sincerely doubt your ability to disappoint me.”

Jungkook’s cheeks begin to burn all over again; there is something about the way her lips look curving around the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ that he stores away for a later time.

“Aren’t I already different than what you expected?” He chuckles, and the sound is boyish and full of airiness but, it still holds a bit of tension.

He was right.

He was much different than she had anticipated but that isn’t saying much, considering the fact that her first impression of him came after he took down a group of raiders.

“Different doesn’t always mean disappointment…” She assures him candidly, “In fact, I am quite relieved that you aren’t what I expected.”

He is intrigued, “Most of the people I meet are afraid of me but, I can’t say I blame them; My hyungs and I come with a reputation. Were you afraid of us when we came here?”

Jungkook wants to know what she thinks, even if he might be uncomfortable with her answer.

Rachel eyes the dumplings collecting the cool air around them and, doesn’t even notice the fact that they have yet to start eating. Both of them are too overcome with anticipation to pay attention to much else aside from each other.

It felt instinctual to begin things this way.

“Yes.” She replies honestly, catching the way his face falls and regretting it instantly, “But that wasn’t your doing. I have come to understand that you and the rest of your battalion are merely victims of village gossip. Besides, the fear I felt quickly disappeared once I saw you.”

Jungkook’s face lightens once again as he extends his hand towards hers. Rachel feels a shiver rush eagerly up her spine as he slips his fingers between her own, “You aren’t afraid of me now?”

Anyone else may have found it odd that Jungkook needed this type of reassurance so early in the evening but, he simply couldn’t relax until he knew that he wasn’t perceived as a threat. He is so used to putting on a tough persona and, even more used to people fearing him. He has grown quite tired of always needing to disarm himself.

Tightening her grip on his hand, she allows a playful smirk to etch across her lips, “I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you in the middle of the forest if I was afraid of you. That would be quite foolish don’t you think?”

Jungkook’s teeth are brilliant as he grins, a breathless bit of laughter leaving his mouth, “Not unless you were some sort of thrill seeker…”

Sensing the bit of suggestion in his voice, she takes her chance and utters, “Those aren’t exactly the type of thrills I’m seeking…”

Jungkook feels his mouth dry up at her words but, before he has time to process any of it, she raises the basket once more, “These are getting cold.”

And ever the gentleman, he doesn’t comment on it but just as he did with the image of her lips, he stores her comment away.

For later.

The two of them begin eating and, Rachel watches on fondly as he shoves more than half of the dumplings in his mouth. She can tell he is doing his best to appear civilized but, Y/N did mention that they don’t eat proper meals very often so, his manners weren’t exactly in tip-top shape.

Rachel didn’t mind. In fact, she took great pleasure in watching him stuff himself. His cheeks puffed up adorably to accommodate the volume of dough he was shoving in them but, despite him wanting to eat the entire batch, he kept insisting on feeding her bites of food every 30 seconds or so.

During dinner, they talked about all sorts of things:

Rachel’s childhood, her work as an educator, her favorite seasons…

Jungkook wanted to learn it all.

He was fascinated by her entire existence.

However, after a certain amount of time, Rachel begins to notice how he continuously shifts the conversation back towards her. He doesn’t look uncomfortable when she asks him questions but, he keeps answering them as quickly as possible.

Finally, Rachel decides this theme has gone on long enough before she finally asks the one question that’s been on her mind all night.

“What led to you joining Yoongi’s battalion so early?”

Jungkook swallows the instant lump in his throat, “Uh well…it wasn’t hyung’s battalion yet when I first joined. We both went in together. He took over when he was about…” He thinks for second, “20 I think? So I would have been about 17. But we were both running in missions long before that.”

Rachel almost comments on the fact that he didn’t answer her question but, he beats her to it and, continues.

“Yoongi-hyung and I are brothers but, not by blood.” He begins, “His family took me in when I was 7.”

She can sense that he is about to tell her something quite serious so, she hesitates to ask any further questions; he would clarify if he was comfortable enough to do so.

“Hyung and I are from the same village. Our families had been neighbors for three generations until-“ He averts his eyes, preparing to tell the story that started it all, “we were attacked. Our village was destroyed by a raider clan. The first incident wasn’t so bad but, they came back and-“ Jungkook swallows the emotions that have balled up in his throat, “they decided that they weren’t after our valuables any longer; they were after blood.”

Rachel’s whole body is tense with the weight of his story, her mouth seemingly frozen in its slightly parted position as she tightens her grip on his hand.

“I still can’t comprehend it.” He breathes, shaking his head, “It wasn’t even like they were trying to recruit us or take us as laborers; they just wanted to create chaos.”

She can see the way his eyes are growing glossy and the way his breath seems to shorten and with her whole being, she expects to wipe his tears but, they never come.

“Our families tried to flee the village together but-“ He clears his throat, “my parents and I were shot by the enemy’s arrows. I remember seeing them go down in front of me and, then there was this horrible pain in my side. I tried to stay with them but, Yoongi-hyung wouldn’t let me. He just threw me over his shoulder and ran. I still don’t know how he did it; he must have ran with me for hours before we made it to the next secure village.”

Still captivated by his story, Rachel runs his thumb over the backs of his knuckles to ensure that he knows she’s right there with him.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers and, he offers a sad smile in return, squeezing her hand.

“Hyung told me many years later that the shots my parents received were fatal. There was no chance of rescue. But, for so long I believed I had abandoned them there. From then on, the only family I knew was Yoongi-hyung and, the parents he decided to share with me; He shared everything with me actually: his food, his clothes, his bed, his patience,” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “When the military council came for him, I panicked; we had been inseparable for so long. I couldn’t stand to see my hyung going off to war alone so,” At last the heavy emotions begin to lift from his face as a slight smirk comes over his lips, “I may have snuck out in the middle of the night and, followed him out…”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “You could have been killed!” She smacks his arm playfully which causes him to break out in a fit of laughter, “How on Earth did you manage that??? I’ve always heard they were so meticulous!”

Jungkook shrugs, somewhat smugly, “I fit in quite well. I was already taller than hyung at this age and, he and I had been training together since we were young.”

“What did he say when  realized you had come along??? I’m surprised he didn’t send you home himself.”

He is chuckling again, his eyes lighting up fondly at the memory, “Oh he nearly killed me himself actually…he found me hiding out in a barn on the military camp and, it was truly the only time I’ve ever seen him that afraid. But once he was done lecturing me, we both decided it was safer for me to stay. Hyung was worried that I’d be punished if he turned me in to his general so, I passed as a volunteer. The rest is history…”

Rachel grins, overcome with fondness, “History indeed, especially the part when you became the youngest recruit to ever join the royal army.”

The faintest blush crosses his cheeks, “Well technically, the records will never reflect that, most people in our land believe hyung and I are the same age. I personally find this hard to understand as he clearly has so many more wrinkles than I do but-“ He shrugs again, “I suppose it works out.”

She smirks, “I suppose it does. I don’t know where the royal army would be without it’s Terror Cub…”

Jungkook groans, his face turned up in disgust, “I will haunt the historian who writes that name down in the books. Could they not have come up with something more menacing? Terror Cub? It sounds like a character in a children’s book…”

He is pouting profusely now and, Rachel decides that his adorable expression is far deadlier than any weapon he could wield.

She was simply powerless against it.

“I promise not to go blathering to any of our historians about it. If anyone asks, I will tell them you were the fiercest solider in all of the land.”

Jungkook’s heart swells with pride as he subconsciously puffs out his chest, “While you’re there please tell them of our involvement as well. I hope to be remembered for the pursuits of my heart rather than just my skills on the battlefield…”

Rachel’s lips twitch, “What exactly shall I tell them?”

His demeanor shifts slightly and, it's as if the sparkle in his eyes turns to lightening, “I think you should tell them that-” The distance between their lips seems to lessen almost subconsciously as Jungkook licks over his bottom lip, “our connection was medicinal, that it was almost as if we had been holding our breath until we finally found one another.”

Despite Jungkook’s words raising every hair upon Rachel’s skin, he seems to grow immediately nervous by his candid statement.

“That’s really excessive isn’t it? My hyungs always tell me that I should think before I-“

But he isn’t able to finish his sentence…

Rachel has closed the distance between them and, is pressing her lips against his own. Jungkook’s body stalls at the feeling and, he assumes the whole world stalls along with him.

For in this moment, there is nothing else but her lips.

Jungkook’s hands are unstable as they reach her cheeks and, he grimaces because he knows his palms are damp with the evidence of his nerves.

But Rachel doesn’t notice.

She can only sigh hopelessly into his mouth as the two of them deepen their kiss.

============================

The river welcomes you with open arms this evening. The chill of the oncoming fall season is no match for the thick woolen coat your mother made for you last year. Tonight, you are overcome with peace as you stroll along the embankment. You’ve always felt so much happiness around the river but ever since meeting Yoongi, the meaning of this piece of land has shifted and intensified.

He is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He’s wise and controlled but, he carries a type of wildness that is uniquely his own. The great and powerful Tiger: he is so much more than just a rumor.  Even though you claimed to make your own judgements about things, you still expected Yoongi to be some sort of brut; an egotistic warrior at best or a bloody thirsty monster at worst.

But you had been wrong.

Yoongi was a man of great skill yes, quick like lightening and deadly like his feline persona but, his heart contained so much depth and so much warmth, that you found yourself drowning in it. The two of you hadn’t known each other long but, the emotions are already so strong. Your future with him is all you find yourself daydreaming about and, you can only hope that he is able to keep all of the promises he made to you.  

The anxiety surrounding his departure strikes again, right in the middle of your heart.

You have half a mind to join his ranks or even stowaway amongst the new recruits…

Surely he wouldn’t notice if you wore a disguise, right?

The twigs snapping on the forest floor behind you remove you from your ridiculous plan as a smile immediately graces your face.

“You’re late.” You call, not bothering to turn around, “Did the recruits keep you tied up again?”

There is a bit of silence before a voice answers your question.

“I didn’t realize you were expecting me- although it doesn’t surprise me that Yoongi’s plaything would have a heightened sense of awareness…” The voice is unfamiliar and, it causes your blood to run cold, “…given that she’s canoodling with a monster.”

It all happens so quickly.

Just as you’re about to turn towards the voice, a burly arm is wrapping around your neck. Gasping for air, your hands immediately fly up to claw at your attacker’s forearm.

Panic is rushing through you, your feet kicking around as he attempts to drag you backwards into the trees.

“You really shouldn’t be out in the dark by yourself, pretty.” He snarls into your ear, his breath reeking of alcohol, “There are a lot of maniacs out here…”

You can feel yourself losing consciousness as he tightens his grip on your neck. Your fingernails are desperately digging into his skin, trying to cause him any discomfort that you can.

“I want to see the look on his face-“ Your assailant cackles, “I want to see his reaction to your cold body laying in the place where you first kissed…He thinks he’s strong but-“

You hear him gasp for breath as an unknown force seemingly knocks it out of him. When he releases his grip on your neck, you frantically suck in the air around you, wincing as you fall to your knees.

In your attempt to distance yourself you scramble up against the nearest tree and, just as you’re about to scream for help, you realize that you’re not alone.

A golden dagger sticks out of your attacker’s shoulder as he attempts to get away from the one who threw it: Yoongi.

“Stay right there.” He calls to you gently, his eyes devoid of any emotion.

You are still reeling from nearly being choked to death but, you listen to his command, nonetheless. The man on the floor is dressed in the colors of the royal army and, you gather that he belongs to Yoongi’s battalion- or at least he pretended to.

Yoongi catches him by the hair as he drags him up to his knees. The man is spluttering from the pain, his brows drawn in tightly as he struggles against Yoongi’s grip.

“Do you remember the lesson from this morning, rat?” He ventures, his voice casual and icy cold.

“Y-yes sir…”

Yoongi rips his hair back again so the tip of his nose is facing the sky, “What was it?”

“Ah!” He groans, his hands balling up at his sides, “N-necessities, sir.”

“Necessities- very good.” Yoongi would sound like he was praising him if it weren’t for the heartless smirk painted across his lips. “Now, would you say your head was a necessity?”

As Yoongi asks his question, he unsheathes his sword with his free hand and presses the blade to the man’s throat.

“Yes!” The man practically yelps, his body freezing beneath Yoongi’s grip, “Yes, sir! Very necessary, sir!”

You can’t help but watch in complete shock. There is a part of you that knows Yoongi would never kill someone in front of you but, the way the light has drained from his eyes is forcing you to doubt yourself.

“Oh is it now? What about your throat?”

Yoongi’s expression barely shifts but, you can literally feel the fury emanating off of his figure as he presses the blade further into his skin. Ruby red blood barely peeks out of the man’s skin as he whimpers.

“Yes-“ He chokes out, “It’s necessary! Please! They told me to kill her, I’m just the middleman! If you spare me, I promise I will tell you everything just-“

Yoongi stalls his movements, his eyes flashing towards you for a moment before yanking his head back again, “Who is they?”

Through another pained groan, the man spits out his answer, “The Meddleways sir.”

Although unfamiliar to you, the name seems to affect Yoongi greatly. However, he quickly composes himself and pulls the man upwards by his hair, “Stand up.”

Wincing, the man rushes to his feet, his hands lingering out in front of him with uncertainty.

With his lips curled beneath his fury, Yoongi offers one last eerily calm sentiment in the man's ear, “You are very lucky that I am in the presence of a lady. Had I come across you on my own-” He stops himself, taking a deep breath in through his nose. He shuts his eyes for a moment, collecting the storm inside of him before continuing, “I will put you with your leader after my men are done questioning you. From there, you will make the journey to your trial and, whilst you are on your way- please be sure to thank whatever god you believe in that I am not the one tasked with your punishment.”

Yoongi’s voice is nearly unrecognizable. It’s like a glacier, cold and enormous but, slow moving. It seems to inch into the man’s subconscious as he cowers beneath him.

“Do you understand?” Yoongi confirms to which the man nods immediately, “Good.”

With that final word, he rips the dagger out of the man's shoulder. His yelp is cut short by the handle of said dagger as Yoongi whacks it against the side of his head. The man falls to the ground unceremoniously, his body going limp for the time being.

The events that have transpired, leave you frozen against the bark of your favorite willow tree. Yoongi seems to know something you don’t and, you can’t fight your instinct to ask questions.

“Do you know him?”

Your voice seems to pull Yoongi away from his urges and back to reality. In an instant, he is rushing over to you, his cold gaze defrosting slightly as he assesses your wellbeing.

“Did he touch you?” He mutters, his fingers on the end of your chin, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, he was choking me but-”

Yoongi glowers, his nostrils flaring slightly, “Did he touch you?”

The way he emphasizes the word ‘touch’ gives you the hint that Yoongi is referring to whether or not he violated you.

“No...” You whisper, allowing your fingers to brush against his cheek, “He was only on me for a moment before you found us.”

Yoongi deflates under your touch but, to say that he relaxed would be an overstatement. In fact, it's safe to say that he has never been more tense in his entire life.

“Are you hurt?” His voice breaks at the end as he swallows back his emotions. Before you’re able to answer, Yoongi’s eyes light up with quiet rage all over again, “Your neck- it's going to bruise-”

“Hey-” You coax his gaze up to yours, “I’m safe. You saved me and, I’m safe.”

Your words unfortunately do nothing for him but, he doesn’t want to center this interaction around his fear. Instead, he simply nods and places a tense kiss to the center of your forehead before nodding to the limp figure behind him.

“I need to take him back to the compound, Namjoon and Jimin will get out any information he has. In the meantime, I need you to stay away from here. In fact, don’t go anywhere alone after sunset- not until I can assess the-”

“Let me come with you. I want to know what’s going on-”

Yoongi shakes his head, “No. It’s too dangerous to have you on the compound right now. My entire battalion may be compromised.”

“But Yoongi-”

His eyes grow cold again, “This is not a discussion. A civilian has no place in these matters.”

With his words, he drops his grip on you but just before he steps back, you are shooting a glare his direction.

“Civilian? Is that what you call me now, Min Yoongi?”

Using his full name would be considered disrespectful if the two of you didn’t know each other the way you do but, it still feels foreign coming out of your mouth.

Yoongi technically has authority over you and your entire village. If he wanted to, he could order you to do anything he wishes. Yoongi never exercises his power this way but, he is so overcome with fear that he wants to do anything to protect you. “You know that isn’t what I was implying. Don’t twist my words.”

“Then please feel free to untwist them for me. That term comes with a loaded meaning, and you know it...”

The tension clings in the air between you like moss to a tree. It’s uncomfortable and more importantly, unfamiliar. Yoongi stares you down, his hardened gaze wavering as the seconds pass. His eyes trace each feature of your face with desperation, seeking to memorize your current expression and, not because he is particularly fond of it but, merely because it belongs to you.

Yoongi’s future is not guaranteed and, therefore- neither is his life with you.

So he must memorize it all.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” He concedes, his features softening, “I just need some time to sort through my men. I won’t deny your request for information but, I have to gather it first. I am asking you to stay away until then and, its only because I fear for your safety- not because I don’t regard you as my equal.”

His words gnaw at your guard until it disappears and, suddenly you wish to be in his arms. You know both of your reactions came from a place of fear as its woefully unlike the two of you to misunderstand one another.

“I’m scared.” You whisper, “I don’t want to leave your side.”

Yoongi’s heart breaks at the worry written on your beautiful face and, he loathes the unconscious man beside him even more for making you feel this way.

“Come here,” He reaches a hand out towards you and, as soon as you take it, he is pulling you against him. He places a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger for a moment. When he feels your fingers curl into fists around the fabric of his tunic, his eyes squeeze shut.

He is terrified.

“I won’t let anything happen to you ever again, do you understand?” He murmurs, his voice unstable, “I will protect you with my life and, gladly lay it down for your own.”

All you do is nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck, “But you’re going to leave me...”

And for this Yoongi has no response.

Because he will protect you yes, but he will never lie to you.

He is going to leave you and, it will be much sooner than he had planned; there is no use in training the recruits now- as far as he is concerned, they have all gone bad.

“Only my body will leave you.” He answers with another kiss to your head, “The rest of me is bound to you forever.”

----------------------------------------------------

It’s been nearly a day since you’ve seen Yoongi.

After he tied your attacker to a tree, he walked you back home and, fetched the rest of the men for reinforcements.

You have yet to see the man since Yoongi disarmed him but, more importantly, you hadn’t seen any of the battalion.

It was as if they had disappeared overnight.

The only indication of their presence was their horses roaming around the compound. The rest of the men were seemingly confined to their tents, a tactic likely used by the leaders to ensure they kept track of everyone whilst they interrogated the wayward recruit.

But still, it was unnerving.

It gave you another glimpse at what your world would look like very soon. Your life had changed so drastically since Yoongi’s arrival and, you simply weren’t ready to move throughout your day without the promise of meeting him by the river.

But you had to be ready.

You had to be ready a lot sooner than you anticipated.

The day had moved like slugs along the riverbank after the summer heat has dried up parts of its shoreline. Despite the nerves brewing within you and the ache of anticipation all over your body, the clocktower stared back at you defiantly, refusing to move.

Yoongi promised you he would come to your house as soon as he had the information he needed but, you weren’t planning on waiting for him any longer.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since you were attacked and, without answers, you slowly felt yourself going insane with impatience. Once your wares were packed up and taken home, you strode with determination to the makeshift compound.

Still appearing to be deserted, you don’t have any clues as to which tent to start with first. You opt for the one that the seven men usually stay in and as you approach it, you desperately wish you were here delivering bread.

The illusion of simplicity had been shattered. You were being courted by the leader of the Royal Army and because of this, nothing was never simple to begin with.

You felt foolish for believing otherwise.

Before you’re able to ring the bell outside of the tent, you are met with Yoongi rushing from the opening, still dressed in the same clothes he wore the night prior. Dark rings of exhaustion are positioned around the sockets of his eyes and, his lips look as though they haven’t had a sip of water all day.

He is beautiful but, he looks like hell.

“I had a feeling I wouldn’t need to come looking over you-” He smiles but, it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he offers his arm and jerks his chin towards the trees, “Walk with me?”

This can’t be good.

You nod, interlocking your arm with his and, taking a moment to relish the warmth that still ebbs and flows from him. Even with the gnawing monster of the unknown staring daggers at you in the distance, you feel safe with him.

“Did he keep his promise?” You ask him as the two of you step into the forest. The light shining through the trees is painted the same color as the sunset on the mountains and, if this were a normal meeting between the two of you, you would have admired it. However, the only thing you can focus on is what Yoongi has yet to tell you.

“He did,” He nods.

The promise, of course, refers to the attacker vowing to tell Yoongi anything he wanted to know if he decided to spare his life.

“And?” You cock your head, trying to catch his gaze that seems to be fixated upon the dirt beneath your feet.

If only you knew that he was actually staring at the way your dress billows in the wind, the way the shadows from the leaves bounce off the soft skin of your ankles...

He must memorize it all.

“I have to leave...” He finally says, looking up at you, “...tonight.”

The news is reasonable but, it feels like a cruel joke. You have half a mind to deny him, to lash out and, scold him for toying with you in such a way.

But Yoongi would never lie to you.

Ever.

“Tonight.” You whisper, swallowing the bitter flavor of the word. And almost involuntarily, your hands are curling gently around his forearms in protest, “Why tonight?”

Yoongi can quite literally taste the pain in your voice and, it sickens him; it sickens him because, there is nothing he can do about it.

He leaves his arms in place for you to touch however you want, thoroughly shocked that the desire still manages to coil in his stomach even in the face of such sadness.

“The man who gave me this scar on my face was the leader of a cruel wayward group known as the Meddleways. Years ago, after Namjoon successfully lead them to our army, the leader and I fought to the death. Xansa, was his name. It was the closest I had ever come to losing my life.” Yoongi almost smiles as he feels your grip on him tighten but, he opts for gently caressing beneath your elbows instead, “This group, they had plans to attack the Queen’s capital and assassinate the people who lived there. After the death of their leader however, many of them came to our side- claiming that they were held against their will. There were a small number who escaped and, I foolishly assumed they would dissolve.”

You look up at the scar he speaks of, gazing at the angry strip of marred flesh running down the center of his right eye. In complete silence, you reach up and trace your index finger along the shape of it, letting out a shaky sigh at the thought of someone causing him pain.

“They haven’t.” You conclude whilst Yoongi closes his eyes beneath your touch, “Have they?”

He simply shakes his head as his hands secure themselves round your waist. His eyes stay shut even when you move your hand from his scar to cup his cheek. The skin there is splotchy from the evening breeze and, surprisingly soft. You almost think to question it but, Yoongi is already answering your silent observation.

“Your salve.” He chuckles as his beautiful eyes finally open, “It would be swept up by the people of the capital in no time; it’s a miracle in a tin.”

Allowing just a moment of reprieve, your mind drifts to the not-so-distant future, “Shall I make a career there then? I imagine if you’re retiring, I will be the one providing for us.”

A bit of ego flashes through Yoongi’s eyes, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, “My villa is nowhere near the capital. And as for providing for us, I am pleased to inform you that I have enough gold from my military service to last us several lifetimes.”

Good, you think, one lifetime together wouldn’t be enough anyhow.

“Am I to be a housewife then?” You arch your brow, throwing an unimpressed but playful glance his way.

Yoongi smirks, “You are to be whatever you wish. It’s just worth noting that I have the means to take care of us both. Although, I will admit that whilst my retirement will hardly be noticed as there is already someone taking my place, if you chose to retire now that- that would have some dire consequences.”

His compliment, however silly, makes you giggle as you roll your eyes, “Your logic is insanely flawed my dear general however, I will accept your flattery nonetheless.”

Your laughter soothes the rawness in Yoongi’s heart, even if it’s just for a moment. He follows suit, unable to help the small bout of laughter that leaves his lips. But before long, you two seem to settle back into the solemnity of the moment and, you’re asking:

“There after you...aren’t they?”

Yoongi is nodding, his brows drawn tightly together whilst he murmurs, “They are coming for me now. My battalion and I must reconvene and cut them off before they attack here. Xansa is dead but, according to the man who attacked you, there is a new leader, Xansa’s brother. Their objective remains the same: they wish to destroy the peace the Queen’s have built and, exploit the land and it’s people for power.”

To know that not only is Yoongi tasked with defending the lands from violence, but also that he is being targeted specifically, frightens you beyond belief.

“Why can’t you stay hidden? My family will hide you; you could blend in here until they are defeated, I know it isn’t ideal but-” You sound panicked now and, it breaks Yoongi’s heart that he must deny you any reprieve.

“Darling,” He cups your face, his own bottomless gaze searching yours, “There is only one place in the world where I can truly hide. And someday,” A calloused thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, “I will take you there and, we will live out the rest of our lives. But as of now, anywhere I go- weak minded men will follow, desperate to prove their idea of strength. My head is a trophy to all men who are poisoned by their masculinity.”

“Your head is not a trophy,” You protest but your voice barely reaches above a whisper, weakened by your own despair. For the last time it seems, you brush your fingers against his skin- electrocuted by the sensation, “and you are so much more than the rumors that follow you. So much more...”

Yoongi has to summon all the strength within him to keep his emotions at bay, not wanting to break down in front of you. Instead, he silently brings your lips to his and, presses the softest kiss to your mouth.

He pours everything he wish he had time to say into it, his breathing picking up slightly as you return the passion with everything you have.

The two of you know you have to break it off, especially as you hear the compound finally come to life beside you; they were preparing to leave.

With foreheads pressed together, you are the first one who speaks with bated breath, “Promise you’ll come back to me...”

His hands are on either side of your face now as he centers your focus on his eyes. You had yet to see such silent determination within them since you met and for the moment, it convinces you that his word is golden.

“I will crawl back to you if I have to.”

When you part, you gather that most of Yoongi’s men have already left. It appears that only the main unit and, a group of thirty or so remain in the compound.

“Hyung!” Hoseok calls from the front of the tent, his normally bright expression full of contempt, “It’s time.”

You detest how well their readiness to leave coincides with the end of your conversation but, it almost feels easier this way. Being unable to anticipate the exact point of Yoongi’s departure has allowed you to be suspended in ignorant bliss.

The pain isn’t as drawn out.

Yoongi returns his statement with a tight nod before, turning his attention back to you for the last time.

With all the power in him, he musters up a type of promise one can only convey with their eyes and says, “I’ll meet you back at the river...” He swallows around all of the words he wishes to utter but, with a delicate brush to your cheek, he leaves you with only two, “...my love.”

And suddenly, the world between you is massive once again.

Suddenly, he is a thousand miles from you even though he only moves a few yards away.

You feel frozen in place almost, your cheek burning with the remains of his touch as you try to catch the breath his words stole from you.

Is this really it?

The last guaranteed moments of your incredible connection with a man you could only dream about- is this truly how they end?

You’re standing there longer than you realize because, the next thing you know, you hear the whinny of the last horses and, the sharp commands of Jin’s voice.

Spinning around, you aren’t thinking clearly as you sprint towards the group of men beginning to ride away into the forest.

“General Min!”

You are surprised at how well your voice carries over the noise and, out of the group pops Yoongi riding on the back of a black stallion.

With his gold sword attached to his hip and, his capable hands controlling the reigns, Yoongi brings the movements of his horse to a stop.

“Don’t be late.” You call to him, fresh tears spilling silently from your eyes. But despite the tears, you are smiling- offering some semblance of hope to the two of you.

He chuckles, bowing his head towards you, eyes outlined in red, “Yes ma’am.”

Then he is gone.

And with him goes all of your steam for the time being.

It’s as though the energy has been pulled away from you, leaving you sullen and exhausted regardless of how much rest you’re able to get.

The weeks without Yoongi begin with nightmares. The one you had just before he left seems to haunt your subconscious day in and day out. It’s as if your brain were torturing you with worst case scenarios, preparing you for a world without him.

Without Yoongi.

The night the battalion left, you rushed over to Rachels and, upon her opening her door, you simply collapsed into her arms.

With your head on her shoulder, the two of you cried together. You hated the fact that she understood the pain you were in but, you were happy to have someone relate to.

She understood.

To live such an ordinary life one day, only to fall for a mysterious stranger the next…

And then to have that stranger seem so familiar, to connect so deeply with someone you haven’t known for very long and, then having to say goodbye…

It was a very specific type of pain and, your best friend knew exactly what the sting felt like.

Nearly a month of this passes before you receive something that has your monotone soul seeing color once again: a letter from Yoongi.

A young man, who identifies himself as a royal messenger, shows up at your door with a tightly wrapped piece of parchment that contains enough hope to keep you going for the foreseeable future. This young messenger explains that he was commissioned by the “the Royal General” to deliver two letters to this village every month until his return.

Two letters meaning, one to you and of course, one to the beloved schoolteacher next door.

The thought of Rachel getting to hear from Jungkook makes your heart sing.

Trying to contain the tears in your eyes, you thank the messenger profusely before practically tripping over your own feet as you rush back to your bedroom. You waste no time in removing the protective fabric from the letter, your shaky hands nearly ripping the corner of the parchment.

Y/N,

I know we didn’t discuss writing to one another but, I couldn’t handle not contacting you in some way. Thankfully, I’m privileged enough to have access to the royal messengers and, they have promised me they would deliver my letters until I return. Are you staying healthy? I know how cold it must be getting where you live. Please reassure me that you’re staying warm so, I can stop obsessing over it.

Our men have been successful so far. We’ve encountered many obstacles but, we have the strategies to hold our own. Most of my days have been spent working on a pathway out of this mess but, we have been unable to find the new leaders of the Meddleways. The Queens are aware and have sent reinforcements but, we still have a long way to go.

Not to worry, I still plan on keeping my promises to you. It’s the only thing that keeps me alert most of the day as I haven’t been able to sleep as much as I’d like to. Our time at the river spoiled me, I didn’t realize how much energy I was getting from your lips. Sleep depravity meant nothing when I was with you.

Yours,

Yoongi.

By the time you finish the letter, a teardrop is regretfully staining the center of the page. Frantically, you wipe it from the parchment before it’s able to blur the ink placed there by your lover. The indents from his lettering are the only piece of him you have so, you press your fingers to the page in an effort to feel closer to him.

Over and over, you read the words he wrote, overcome with gratitude that he would go to such lengths to have this message delivered to you. By the time you’ve read it for the tenth time, your mother is calling you from the other room, signaling supper is ready.

You have no interest in eating at this moment but, you know that family dinners aren’t something you’ll be able to enjoy once Yoongi returns. So, you decide to file your thoughts away for later and join your parents in the main room.

The meal your mother prepared takes a lot of time and effort so, you insist on cleaning up after the three of you finish eating and, send your parents to bed early. They work so hard and, deserve all of the rest in the world.

After cleaning up the kitchen, you eagerly return to your room to draft your response to Yoongi.

General Min,

I am pleased to report that I have not one but, two woolen blankets at my disposal. You can put your obsessions regarding my warmth to rest for the time being. Other than missing you, my health has kept up just fine since you left. The village is preparing for a rainy season as we do every year but, I’m actually quite excited for the storms.

It’s good to know the Queens are supporting your mission as I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to track down such a volatile group. Nevertheless, my faith in your abilities is still strong. If anyone were able to apprehend them, it would be you. In regard to your sleep deprivation, I can only offer you my energy from afar. I visit the river every night since you’ve been gone and, I find myself leaning against our tree, wishing that it was you who was pressing me into it.

Continue to think of my lips, General. They will be all over you before you know it.

I cannot wait to hear from you again,

Y/N  

A smirk is on your lips as you seal your letter with melted wax, hoping that your wayward tongue motivates him to keep going. The promise of finally being able to consummate your passion for one another burns brightly within you and, you can only hope he will feel the same.  

The messenger had explained to you that he would return for your letter in the morning as he had other deliveries in the area. That night, you slept particularly well and, for once you were able to dream of something peaceful.

As promised, the man returns to your home the next morning to collect your letter and with a tip of his hat, he assures you that he will return the same time next month.

And he certainly does but, it seemingly comes at the cost of said month dragging on endlessly. However, when the messenger shows up at your home, you are quick to forget the last four weeks and, instead just focus on the small piece of Yoongi waiting for you. Before the boy continues on, a nagging question enters your mind and, you are stopping him before he reaches Rachel’s house.

“Excuse me, I hate to pry but, have you been in contact with the general at all?”

He offers a small smile as he shakes his head, “No, ma’am. The general leaves his letters at one of my many posts throughout this land. I met with him only once but, he specifically instructed me not to come looking for him if he didn’t leave anything for me to deliver; he said it was too dangerous.”

This frightens you as it comes ripened with the devastating possibility of Yoongi being incapacitated in some way. Of course it isn’t the man’s intention to worry you and rather than unloading all your anxieties onto him, you merely smile back and thank him for his time.

Before he knocks on Rachel’s door, you also learn his name and, silently scold yourself for not thinking to do so sooner.

He tells you his name is Hyunjin and, expresses his gratitude for your business before leaving you alone to read your letter.

Y/N,

I am trying to find the words to properly convey how many times I re-read your letter and, all of the ways I managed to use it, without sounding crude, but then I remembered that my Y/N doesn’t really care much for decency does she? So I shall be candid for once…

It’s very late when I’m writing my response and, I am overwhelmed with my desire for you. It’s quite sickening actually. I feel lightheaded when I think of us alone together.

Never in my entire life have I wanted someone so badly.

I wish I could see you somehow. Jungkook draws pictures of Rachel on every surface he can but, I don’t possess the artistic abilities he does. My attempts to draw you would be insulting. Although, I wouldn’t commission anyone to illustrate you either; They would mess it up somehow.

How has your month been? Are you still baking bread as often now that my greedy battalion is away?

Yours,

Yoongi

You are immediately transported back to your schoolyard days as you squeal into your bedsheets at his confessions. Yoongi truly had a way of saying everything you needed to hear in only a few words. More notably, he had a way of speaking so passionately; it took your breath away.

Feeling full of unbridled optimism, you pull out a fresh piece of parchment and your ink to begin drafting your response to him. 

General Min,

I can’t help but wish you had been a bit cruder. Next time, feel free to include all of the way you used my words; it would comfort me to know that I am tending to your needs from so far away.

It seems as though you and I share the same illness. I can’t help but, think of you in the same light every evening when I’m trying to sleep. I only wish I was able to dream of you the same way, I’m certain I would wake up feeling much more rested.

Are there any updates on your progress? It’s been three months and, yet I feel as though it’s been twice as long. Are you feeling alright? Are you able to find adequate shelter?

I’m sorry for the interrogation but, I can’t help myself when I begin worrying about you.

Tell Jungkook that Rachel draws him as well. Every time I visit her at home, she is shoving one of her pictures into dress pocket. She thinks I don’t notice but, I most certainly do.

What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t know when she was in love?

In regards to the bread, I am baking slightly less than I was before but, I still find myself adding in extra ingredients for you all every now and then.

I’ve gone on long enough but, I still have so much more to say.

Just know, I miss you terribly.

Love,

Y/N

Hyunjin returns again the following morning and, graciously accepts your letter before heading on his way. When you hand him the parchment full of late night confessions, you truly think nothing of it.

Despite the longing you felt for Yoongi, you had grown used to looking forward to his letters. In a way, it was almost as if he were much closer than he actually was. The letters made you feel like he were writing to you from the capital while he was away on business rather than out in the middle of the battlefield.

But that didn’t change the reality.

Yoongi was out in the battlefield and, things were growing far more complicated than he was letting on.

“Hyung, we can’t keep evading their fire. They are going to catch up to us eventually.”

Yoongi has been trying to write his response to you for over an hour and, every time he sits down to do so- he is interrupted.

This time, the interruption comes from Hoseok who stumbles into the tent, sore from yesterday’s battle.

“Yes they will,” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and when they do, we will lead them to the outskirts of the capital where the Queen’s have established reinforcements.”

“Aren’t you worried they will strike before then? We have already lost-“

Yoongi interrupts him now, trying his best to control the frustration and pain in his tone, “I am aware. I write down every single one of their names. That does not change my plan. We will not engage unless we absolutely have to. I don’t want to see another village go down beneath our fire.”  

Hoseok is dissatisfied with his answer but, he knows better than to question Yoongi when he is like this.

“What is our plan for tomorrow, hyung? Are we moving to a new area?” Jimin asks quietly, his tired eyes barely lingering open as he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. His head is positioned in Jimin’s lap whilst his injured body tries to recuperate; everyone was losing their steam. “I don’t know if Taehyung should be travelling right now. He might have to ride on the back of my horse if we must move on…”

Yoongi’s chest tightens as he sees the state of his men.

The most prestigious army is now littered with bruises and open wounds. There isn’t a single muscle in their bodies that doesn’t feel strained or damaged in some way and, he doesn’t even remember the last time they had a proper meal.

Clutching his quill in his fist, he nods solemnly at Jimin’s comment, “You are probably right. I will walk the perimeter with the rest of our men tonight before bed and if all is clear, he can camp out an extra day whilst he heals.”

Jimin offers a small smile in return that only just reaches his eyes, “Thank you, hyung.”

He nods tightly, adjusting the grip on his quill before continuing to write; he has so much he wants to tell you. He wants to cry out to you in his letter but, he doesn’t want to worry you. Instead, he’d rather pretend like everything is alright, like the two of you are merely star-crossed lovers sneaking around after dark and, writing in code to communicate with one another without being caught.

He wants to pretend like he is anyone else but most of all, he wishes to pretend to be the man he promised you he would be.

But, he won’t lie to you.

He can’t.

Y/N,

This might be the last time you hear from me for a while. Things are growing extremely difficult for my men and I. We must now focus all of our efforts on making it to the outskirts of the capital safely so, that we have the reinforcements we need.

My entire body aches for you, Y/N. There is no comfort for me aside from your letters.

And as much as it pains me to say it, I am beginning to fear that I might not make it home to you. I have yet to express this to my men because, I don’t want to worry them. I just don’t know what our future holds anymore.

We have sustained so many losses.

I don’t want to worry you either but, I am only doing so because, I need you to know something. My need for you to understand this overcomes my need to make you comfortable.

I love

BANG.

With a flash of fire, the tent Yoongi resides in is quickly overwhelmed with chaos.

And as he hears the desperate calls of his men, he knows he has no choice but to abandon his words to you and, fight.

Or else he and his men are doomed.

---------------------------------------

There wasn’t a particular day Hyunjin arrived but, you did expect him to come some time during the middle of the month. However, the middle of the month comes and goes without a word from him and, while you find this to be quite odd, you chose to think nothing of it.

Yoongi was in the middle of a lengthy mission, it was a miracle you had been able to hear from him as much as you did.

However, when the second month passes without word from him- you begin to feel the tidal wave of panic swelling inside of you.

You feel idiotic for getting sucked into the romance of letter writing. It had convinced you, only for a moment, that there was nothing at stake.

But this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Everything was on the line.

How could you lessen your vigilance?

Yoongi could very well be in a grave danger somewhere and, you would never know.

Does he have arrangements for such a thing?

Did he consider this?

Of course he did, you think, as you begin to choke back your tears.

He has seen more carnage than you could ever imagine; he most certainly thought of informing you of his passing.

So maybe this is a sign to be hopeful.

Maybe this means that he is merely stuck somewhere or far too busy to send letters.

With an almost delusional sense of certainty, you furiously wipe your hand across your face and, try to gather yourself.

Today was a busier day at the market so, you desperately hoped things would move quickly.

For once, you are lucky enough to have your wish granted.

The next month however, isn’t so merciful.

Every day is the same. You wake up, try to muster up a smile, pack your wares and sell in the plaza. You bring Rachel her snacks and, the two of you eat in silence before it becomes too much and, you both end up crying.

She hasn’t heard from Jungkook either.

It’s been three months and, you have heard nothing about the whereabouts of the men you intended to be with for the rest of your lives. It’s as if the world is turned upside down and, you spend the majority of your time thinking the worst.

The next morning however, you are granted the briefest moment of respite when Hyunjin knocks at your door. You barely manage to pull on your coat when you yank open the door and, beam at his presence.

“Thank goodness, I was so worried-“ You are cheering for only a second until you catch a glimpse of his expression.

“Good morning ma’am. I’m sorry to have disturbed you but, I felt it was my duty to give you an update on the General…”

Your blood is cold and still within your veins and, the sickening feeling of grief begins crawling its way through your senses.

“We haven’t heard from his battalion for months now. The Queens have sent out a league of experts to find them but, we have yet to-“ He swallows back his nerves as he sees the look on your face, “-we have yet to be successful.”

The tears are unstoppable as they quickly flood the sockets of your eyes. Your hand feels clammy whilst it grips your door frame, your whole body growing numb with each word he utters.

“This doesn’t mean the worst, ma’am. The Tiger’s army is well known for disappearing like this, it’s part of their strategy. I just didn’t want you to be left wondering why I didn’t return. When I went to the postal location, nothing was waiting for me.”

With a shaky and unrecognizable voice, you ask, “Not from Jungkook either?”

He frowns, looking at you with pity, “Nothing, ma’am. There are normally hundreds of letters for me to deliver and, I didn’t find a single one.”

Regardless of his attempt to comfort you, you knew exactly what this meant: something was horribly wrong.

You couldn’t even manage to think of the word but, all of your terrifying nightmares containing Yoongi begin to flood your subconscious. It's all you can think about now.

“I promise to update you as soon as I hear from them, ma’am.” Hyunjin feels immensely uncomfortable delivering this news and, he is eager to return home as quickly as possible.

All you can manage is a nod before you robotically begin closing your door, “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Thankfully, your parents are out for the day so, you’re able to shut the door quietly before sliding against it, allowing a broken sob to leave your lips.

You knew in your heart that the likelihood of Yoongi and his battalion being safe was next to nothing. The lack of his letters had been evidence enough but, you wanted to remain hopeful, you wanted to convince yourself that he was just busy.

But you were lying to yourself.

Cupping your hand around your mouth, you let out all of the emotion you couldn’t relinquish in front of Hyunjin. Your eyes burn as your tears stain your cheeks, your lips parted in a silent scream. With your body shaking, you cry for the life you were never able to have and, for the man you were never able to love.

That evening, your mother helps you into bed. She understands when you refuse supper even though she made your favorite. She lets you cry in her lap like you did when you were a little girl only this time, you weren’t crying over schoolyard bullies.

You don’t leave your bed for two weeks. The only time you have contact with anyone other than your parents is when Rachel finally decides to drop by to check on you. Of course, the feeling had been mutual and, just as you had before, the two of you spend most of your time crying together.

Once she decides to leave, you are once again left alone with your thoughts, all of which are of Yoongi. Today in particular, you are remembering his hands and, the first time you intertwined fingers.

“Why are you looking at my hands?” You had asked him

“Because I want to hold them.”

His voice echoes in your mind now as fresh tears find their way out of your eyes for the millionth time and, it’s this memory that prompts you to visit the river.

You hadn’t been back since Hyunjin came to deliver the news. The thought of going there alone sent a deep sadness through you but, part of you felt like it might be a good idea.

If you were to ever truly mourn him properly, you would have to grieve every piece of your time together.

Wrapping yourself up in your winter coat, you make the short journey towards a place you once called your favorite spot in the world. At first, it was because of the inner peace it had brought you but once Yoongi came into the picture, it took on a whole new meaning.

The rain had stopped hours ago so other than a bit of extra mud and a much colder breeze, the river looked just as it did during the summer.

Securing your coat tighter around yourself, you sniffle whilst looking out towards the river. The palette of the sunset is reflecting off the water and, bouncing against the ground beneath your feet. If it had been under any other circumstances, you would have felt content here. You would be collecting herbs, humming to yourself, speaking with the forest creatures- despite their lack of understanding you but...

Most importantly, you would be waiting for Yoongi.

The thought once again causes you to cry as your brain tries to conceptualize a world without him.

It seems so impossible.

...

“So- is this where the tree bark grows?”

Your eyes widen and you turn around so quickly you nearly fall over. As if out of a fairytale, General Min Yoongi stands just beneath the entrance to the river, dressed head to toe in his strongest armor. His hair is slightly messy and framing either side of his face and his mouth is portraying a brilliant smile.

He’s alive.

You’re crying harder now, frozen in place as you call to him, playing out the first time you two met here,

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...”

If you aren’t mistaken, you see him sniffle as the smile on his face only grows, “I’m sorry, I’m late ma’am...”

His voice breaks at the end and the next thing you know, you are running. Opening his arms, he braces himself for you and, as you crash into him- he uses all of his strength to lift you off the ground. Spinning in a circle, he chuckles fondly when you start placing kisses anywhere you can reach: his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead, his chin...

It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s him.

“You bastard!” You cry to him which only causes him to laugh harder, “I thought you were dead I- I thought you were...”

He stops spinning as his gloved hands come up to cup your face, his eyes wet with the slightest evidence of tears, “Shhh I know, I’m so sorry- I tried everything to reach you but, it wasn’t safe...”

You’re shaking your head, your hands coming up to rest over his, needing to feel every part of him, “It doesn’t matter- you're here now.” You say the phrase but then suddenly, you are overcome with a sickening feeling. What if you were just imagining this? What if you had simply dreamed of him? With a desperate glance, you press your hands into his harder, searching his eyes, “You are here aren’t you? Like- you're really here? You came back to me?”

Yoongi’s expression crumbles, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “I am, my love. I am here- this is the only place I know now.”

Sniffling again, you lean in towards his lips, your mind completely fuzzy with emotion, “Show me, show me you’re here.”

He takes the hint, closing the distance between you and, tucking his mouth into yours. It’s a much harder kiss than you’re expecting but, you relish in it nonetheless. Yoongi’s lips taste like medicine to you, all of your pain melting away beneath his touch. He sighs shakily as he presses your body into the cool steel of his armor, slightly wishing that he had been able to wash up before coming to see you.

It’s been a long journey.

“You’re here...” You whisper into the kiss, your hands tracing over his features, “You kept your promise...”

Yoongi is nodding, pecking at your lips over and over again, “I told you I would crawl didn’t I?” When you nod, he continues, “Well I crawled, darling. I crawled all the way back to you...”

You pull back slightly, unable to get enough of his face, your fingers coming up to brush the hair from his face. Elated, you laugh breathlessly, a smile burned onto your mouth.

“You will never have to crawl again, General Min. It is now my life-long mission to make sure you are in a warm bed with a full belly for the rest of your life.”

Yoongi beams at your sentiment, his eyes lighting up along with his grin whilst his hands slide down your body before settling on your hips, “I love you.”

There it is.

Those three little words that have been etched in your mind for longer than they should have been.

Gripping his face between your palms, you are bringing his mouth down towards you once again, “I love you too.”

After much more kissing, Yoongi mentions that he hasn’t eaten properly in quite a while and, that he has a few things to discuss with you before you can leave with him. You insist that he can use your family’s bathing area to wash up and, that you will pick up clothes for him in the plaza; the armor he’s wearing looks incredibly uncomfortable.

The two of you decide to visit the local tavern as it will be a good place for Yoongi to eat and, update you on what’s going on. He does specifically mention however, that he doesn’t want to speak of what he’s just been through. He only assures you that all six of his leaders survived and, that the Meddleways had been apprehended. He promises you that he will tell you stories from the mission later down the line but for now, he only wishes to speak about your future together.

However, there is one question that’s been nagging at you since he arrived that is slightly off-topic.

“Is Jungkook here?” You take your seat at the table across from him, slightly hating how far apart the two of you are.

Yoongi grins, a bit of fondness in his eyes, “He wouldn’t even wait for me to get out of the chariot before he was already sprinting like a mad man towards her home.”

You feel overjoyed at the thought of how your best friend’s day is going. The grief hit the two of the same way so, you hope she is feeling all of the happiness you felt when you realized the man you loved returned home.

“Are the four of us riding in the chariot together then? You might need to stay in town for a few days if that’s the case- I can throw all of my worldly possessions into a trunk but, Rachel would need more time to prepare.”

Yoongi reaches out for your hand then, smiling as you instinctively lace your fingers between his, “The chariot only has room for two, I’m afraid. My brother has decided to stay here for the time being. I think this final mission was especially hard on him, he’s expressed that he just wants to stay in one place for awhile.”

This resolution warms your heart. The idea of Rachel and, Jungkook making a quiet life for themselves in your home village, brings you so much joy. In many ways, it seems as though they had found a home in each other and, you couldn’t wait to see what their future held.

“I couldn’t imagine a more perfect scenario for the two of them. Although, I do know someday Rachel wishes to leave the village…I’m sure they will work out the details when the time is right.”

“My brother has already insisted that he will build her a house with his bare hands,” He chuckles, “so, at least she doesn’t have to worry about finding a carpenter.”

“What a gentleman.” You giggle before taking a sip of your drink.

Yoongi squeezes your hand gently, acknowledging your sentiment before eagerly moving back to what he wanted to discuss with you.

“My villa has been prepared for the two of us whenever we are ready. We have an entire battalion waiting to escort us there but, we will have to return to the capital after a few days.”

“Retirement ceremony?” You venture with a smile to which he chuckles and, shakes his head.

“I opted out of the theatrics actually. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, those ceremonies last far too long. I am just eager to start my life with you. However,” He sighs, wincing slightly, “my successor doesn’t seem to feel the same way. He wants his full induction ceremony which of course, I would have to attend...”

You cock your head, “Who is your successor?”

Yoongi smirks, “Seokjin-hyung.”

This doesn’t surprise you. Jin is the oldest member of the lead battalion and although Yoongi was technically their general, Jin never failed to assert himself as his right hand.

“I thought the seven of you were retiring this year. Did he re-enlist?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “No, he is taking on the position I turned down.”

You cock your head, brow furrowed with confusion, “Oh? What position is that?”

A rather arrogant look flashes in his eyes for just a moment until he seemingly reigns it in, attempting to keep his tone as casual as possible, “I was asked to serve on the royal council as an advisor to the Queens…”

Its impossible to hide the widening of your eyes causing Yoongi to chuckle at the expression on your face, “You must have made quite the impression, General Min. My father has always told me that positions on the royal council are passed down by blood…you really turned it down?”

Yoongi merely squeezes your hand, “I did. Do you think I was mistaken?”

You shake your head, “Oh, of course not. I mean- selfishly, it’s the outcome I would have hoped for but, I just want to ensure that you didn’t do this for me.”

A small grin comes over his lips whilst his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles, “Unfortunately, I can’t exactly guarantee that, ma’am. I don’t think any of my decisions are made without you in mind…” You open your mouth to protest and, Yoongi merely chuckles again, holding his finger up to signal that he isn’t finished, “However, even if I didn’t have you in mind- I still would have turned it down. As flattering as the offer was, I don’t wish to work in this field any longer. I’m grateful for my time and, honored that I was able to serve my land properly but-“ He stares into your eyes and, you can finally get a look at how exhausted he is, “I’m very tired. I’ve spent my entire youth with a sword on my hip and, I want to live simply now. If I’m being honest, I want to be detached from the rest of the world for a little while...”

You admire the man sitting across from you so much.

He’s only ever given to others, laying his life on the line over and over again, only to have his reputation constantly called into question. Staring at him now, you can’t even remember a time when he was nothing more than a rumor.

“I can’t even imagine the hardships you’ve endured. Your desire for peace is only natural after everything you’ve been through.” You place a kiss on the back of his hand, allowing your lips to linger there as he responds.

“What I desire is you.” He counters, his voice slightly raspier than before, “Peace will just allow me to indulge in you properly. I want no distractions... just as I told you before.”

Yoongi’s voice is laced with something that is wholly inappropriate for a public setting but, neither of you seem to care- instead you just stare at each other for a moment. You watch as his eyes travel over every inch of your face before slowly easing down your neck and, back up again.

The pain of missing him is one thing but, the lack of opportunity to bury into one another is physically painful.

You clear your throat and, send a smirk his way, letting him know that you understand what he’s getting at, “Did you offer the position to Seokjin? Or was he just next in line after you?”

Yoongi leaves his lust in the back of his head for now. He doesn’t want to rile himself up in the middle of the busy tavern.

“The Queens offered him the position when I turned it down. He was named my successor a few years ago when I fell ill so, he was already in a position to take over for me if necessary. Out of all of my men, he is the most capable but, also the most willing.” He chuckles, thinking fondly of his hyung, “He will do a far better job than I would anyhow. He is much more social and, outspoken. Plus, he will be living in the palace- I couldn’t imagine a better life for such a man.”

The warmth in Yoongi’s tone is palpable and, you can’t help but admire the way he talks about his men; its as though they are family to him.

“To Seokjin,” You smile, raising your glass.

Yoongi follows suit, clinking the rim of his goblet yours, his eyes brightening, “To Seokjin.”

As the two of you sip from your cups, Yoongi continues on with his explanation, “The journey to the villa will be brief. We will visit the palace for the ceremony in a few days and, then make our way back home again. From there, we are free to do whatever we wish.” The word home fills you with bliss. For the first time in months, it seems as though everything was falling into place. Now, the two of you could truly be together and, live out the rest of your days in peace.

“Free-“ You muse with a smile, “I quite like the sound of that.”

He smirks, “Of course you do. You have never failed to remind me that you don’t care much for the rules…”

Shrugging, you lean back in your chair and regard him for a moment before replying, “I don’t care for the rules that keep me away from you, General.”

His smirk never falters, “Consider them retired then, apothecary.”

The two of your resist the urge to maul one another in public and, decide to return to your home so that you can pack up your things and, Yoongi can bathe.

You try very hard not think of the fact that Yoongi’s naked body is on display in your back garden as you neatly fold your belongings away in your trunk. There are some things that you’re leaving behind so, that your parents can continue to sell your wares if they wanted to. Yoongi has arranged for them to receive part of his retirement so, they never have to worry about working again. It’s been discussed that the two of you will visit often and, you promised your parents you would write them every week.

Yoongi returns from his bath whilst you’re shoving the last of your clothing away. You can smell him immediately, the scent of your lavender soap wafting away from his skin as he walks toward you. He says nothing until his arms are wrapped around your waist, his chin coming to rest atop your shoulder, “I’ve never been in here before but, your room is very much like what I pictured.”

“Oh?” You lean against him, “I didn’t realize you would imagine what my room would look like.”

You feel him grin against your shoulder, “Well- I suppose I thought more about what we would do in your room…”

Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side to get a better look at him, “And what exactly would we do in here?”

You have half a mind to check to make sure Yoongi had closed the door to your bedroom but, when his hands start sliding up the front of your body, you no longer care.

“I would have love to take you in this bed…” A low chuckle comes from his throat as he starts kissing up the side of your neck, “Although, I wouldn’t be able to make you scream properly with your parents in the next room would I?”

His words send a jolt of electricity up your spine, your body growing weak beneath his touch. Through your nose, you emit a deep and unstable sigh before gripping his hands that are resting just under your breasts.

“You could have kept my mouth occupied somehow-“ You counter, feeling your attitude brewing beneath the surface of your patience.

At your comment, you feel Yoongi’s grip tighten on you as he moves his lips to your ear, “Excuse me?”

But all you do is smirk in return, regretfully pulling his hands from your body so you can continue packing.

“You’re excused.”

Yoongi is about to grab you again but, the knock on your door interrupts your flirting.

This seems to be a very irritating trend.

The two of you eventually part ways with your parents and, although you feel a bit of sadness, you’re overjoyed that they are able to live their life together in comfort. And because of Yoongi’s connections, you will be able to come visit them whenever you want.

The sexual tension between you and Yoongi has yet to fully fizzle out and, he reminds you of this as he grips your waist whilst the two of you walk towards Rachel’s home.

He has many things he’d like to say to you after that comment you made back in your bedroom but, the excited greetings from villagers prevent him from doing so. And all the while, you continue to grin, pleased that you’ve been able to pierce that carefully crafted demeanor of his.

You scamper away from him as you near Rachel’s front door, eager to see your friend after everything that has happened today. You’re anxious to see Jungkook too; Yoongi mentioned that this mission had been hard on him so, you’re hoping more so than anything that he isn’t injured too badly.

Yoongi lingers extremely close behind you as you knock on Rachel’s door, practically bouncing in your steps as you await for her to answer.

And boy does she…

Swinging open the front door, Rachel is still giggling at the man seemingly attached to her from behind. Her hair is absolutely destroyed and, her dress is buttoned up improperly as she addresses the two of you.

“Good evening, Y/N-“ She practically slurs, her eyes lit up with the type of insobriety that does not originate from alcohol. She bows her head towards Yoongi, “Good evening, General Min.”

Your lips are parted in delighted surprise as you survey the two bumbling humans before you. Jungkook is dressed only in his linen trousers, his black tendrils sticking in every direction atop his head and, from what you can see- his neck is littered with various reds and purples.

“Good evening to you- harlot…” You chide, trying to contain your laughter.

She shrieks, reaching out to smack your arm, just as she always does, joy painted all over her face, “Excuse you! I am a respectable woman of education.”

“Uh huh-“ You smirk, unconvinced before nodding towards the man behind her. He’s not even really paying attention to you, his eyes are just staring up at your friend like a lost puppy, his lips swollen from their previous activities, “Jungkook, it’s good to see you. Are you well?”

He merely smiles, only glances at you for a moment before his eyes rush back to Rachel, “Very well, thank you.”

Yoongi clears his throat, “Jungkook-ah,” He scolds, “Answer her properly…also, why are you answering the door if you aren’t decent.”

Jungkook seems to snap out of it, hiding behind Rachel in an effort to shield his body from your view, “My apologies. I’m feeling much better now, I’m glad to see you are looking healthy as well.” His tone shifts once again as he addresses Yoongi, his brown eyes lighting up with mischief, “I just wanted to see you off hyung and, uh- Rachel said this was decent in this village, I’m just adapting to the new lifestyle.”

Yoongi raises a brow, unconvinced but endeared nonetheless, “I am highly suspicious of that explanation…”

Jungkook giggles like a boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “You should be.” He winks at his hyung, giggling harder as Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust. He rests his chin back upon Rachel’s shoulder before speaking again, “Are you two heading to the villa then?”

You’re grinning now, admiring how relaxed Jungkook seems around her, “We are. I was hoping to hug my best friend goodbye before we made the journey…”

Jungkook gets the hint, his eyes widening a bit as he reluctantly moves his arms from her, “I will give you thirty seconds.”

This causes Rachel to laugh, waving him off playfully as she opens her arms to you, “Come here you…”

You throw your arms around her, smiling even as the tears sting the corners of your eyes, “I’m going to miss you… far more than I care to admit…”

She laughs again, patting your back gently, “Oh you know I’ll be around…” She assures you but, her voice is tightening with her own emotions, “…but please make the journey to me often…I fear how stale this village will become without you.”

You’re looking at Jungkook now as he grins softly, admiring the two of you and, send a look his way, “I’m sure this one will keep you properly entertained…”

Finally, the Jungkook you remember returns as he seems to shy away from your comment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Rachel is staring at Yoongi too and, she musters up the courage to throw a pointed finger in his direction; she is still slightly intimidated by him after all.

“You’ll take care of her, won’t you? She is precious cargo, General Min.”

Yoongi tips his head toward her as he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart, “You have my word, ma’am.”

Rachel smiles, sniffling a bit as the two of you release each other, “Good.” You pull away from her, trying not to give in to your urge to cry as you both sort of giggle, exchanging a series of knowing glances with one another.

“I love you, my dear friend.” You squeeze her hands and, she returns the gesture, her eyes glossy while she slowly begins to release your hands.

“I love you.”

Jungkook is back on her then, his brow furrowed with concern at her saddened state. He says nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two and, chooses to press a soft kiss to her shoulder instead.

Yoongi moves closer to you as well, winding his arm around your waist and, squeezing your hip reassuringly.

“Write to me?” Rachel asks, trying to mask the cracks in her voice.

You nod, blinking back the remainder of your tears, “Every week.”

Leaving Rachel is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do but, it feels so much better knowing how happy she will be. Yoongi stays silent for the moment, gently escorting you down the street, waving at many of the civilians that bid the two of you farewell.

Roughly 10 minutes later, the two of you are huddled in the back of a massive wooden chariot, pulled along by four black horses and accompanied by a group of guards. The interior is lined with padded silk and, is easily the softest thing you’ve ever sat on in your life. After the two of you are settled inside, Yoongi mentions your departure with Rachel:

“You two have a special bond, I’m sorry that you won’t be living near her for the time being…” He feels guilty for the moment, wondering whether or not you were happy giving up so much for him, “You know, we can always come back. I could commission the architect to design us a home out here.”

You squeeze his hand, touched that he would suggest such a thing, “I appreciate your concern but, I promise you that I am beyond content with my decision.”

His lips curve slightly, feeling satisfied with your answer for the time being. He would be sure to check in with you often, the last thing he wants is for you to feel unfulfilled.

“I’m happy to hear that but, please don’t hesitate to let me know if you ever get tired of me.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand as the two of you approach the chariot.

“I promise you, you would know...” You assure him, nudging his leg with your foot. Yoongi grins and quick as ever, he grabs your ankle and, places it upon his lap. The sudden motion makes you jump, a bit of laughter coming from your lips. Silently but still grinning to himself, he gestures for your other foot with his hand until you get the hint to rest both of them in his lap. He looks down at them, something unreadable flashing through his eyes whilst his fingers brush over the tops of your ankles.

Its such a simple gesture and, yet it sends shivers across the surface of your skin. Yoongi continues to touch you, not saying a single word as he traces the faint shape of the veins beneath your flesh.  Resting your head against the silk lining of the chariot, you allow your eyes to close in order to enjoy his touch. As your lids fall shut, Yoongi grins softly, finally allowing himself to ogle at you the way he wants to.

And oh, can you feel his eyes on you. They burn into your skin despite the fact that you cannot see exactly where he is looking. Truthfully, it wouldn’t matter even if you did, his eyes were everywhere.

His fingers slowly venture up to slide along either of your shins but, he is careful not to reach your knees just yet. And it's here that you decide to set your curiosity free.

“When was the last time you had sex?”

You feel his motions stop for a split second as he processes your question, the silence of the chariot much louder than before.

“Not long before I first arrived at your village.”

The effort to hide your frown is in vain as Yoongi’s rickety laughter gives you the hint that he’s already spotted it.

“Does that upset you?”

You keep your eyes shut, trying to stifle your smile, “Immensely.”

And there is another beat of silence before the two of you are laughing together. Yoongi flattens his palms on your legs, rubbing them gently in an effort to soothe them.

“I suppose that’s reasonable.” He concedes, his tone thoroughly amused, “And you?”

Your teeth are on your bottom lip then, trying to stifle yet another smile, “Not long before you first arrived at my village.”

Yoongi is pinching the skin of your calf playfully as an affronted scoff leaves his lips, “I see what you mean now, that is a truly upsetting answer.”

At long last you open your eyes and, the two of you regard each other for only a moment before you’re laughing again. It feels quite juvenile to jest about something like this but to you, it’s merely a testament of your comfort around Yoongi.  

“I guess it sounds odd on my end though, doesn’t it? Since I’ve been so insistent on waiting with you...”

You shake your head, “I don’t think so. I never assumed you insisted on waiting because you were protecting a virtue of some kind. You are a 28-year-old man, it would be silly of me to think that you hadn’t taken a partner before.”

“Taking a partner sounds far too intimate...” He retorts, “...my reputation caused many people to throw themselves at me in attempt to satisfy some sort of fantasy. Occasionally, my physical needs made me privy to their advances. But, that’s all it ever amounted to.”

It does sadden you that people interacted with Yoongi in this way. If they had taken just a moment to get to know him, they would have discovered someone worth spending their time on. In your case, spending a life time with...

You’re adjusting your position so that you’re able to get closer to him. With your feet off of his lap, you move across the seat until you sitting right beside him. His arm immediately positions itself around your shoulders, hugging you against him whilst your fingers venture towards the free hand now resting in his lap. Silently, you run your fingers over his skin, not missing the way his breathing shifts as you do.

“I am exceptionally grateful that you allowed me to get to know you. I don’t think I could have been this happy with anyone else.”

Your voice is smaller than normal and, it makes Yoongi feel warm inside, his head cocking in such a way to signal that he wants you to look at him.

“The pleasure has been all mine, ma’am- I can assure you.”

He leans into to kiss you then, barely capturing your lips before he’s pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. In the small beat of silence, you choose to utter the words you’ll be saying every chance you get for the rest of your life,

“I love you.”

And with a brilliant smile and, a kiss to your nose, he is whispering, “I love you too.”

On the rest of the journey, Yoongi updates you on the status of the rest of his battalion:

Seokjin, as he mentioned earlier, is making arrangements to move into the royal palace as he will be taking the coveted position of the royal advisor to the Queens. Yoongi also explains that he will likely take a partner in the coming years and, that his family will be well-taken care of for generations to come.

Namjoon returned to his home village to reconnect with his beloved, Danielle. The two of them plan to move towards the ocean and, raise a family there. Yoongi explains that it will likely be awhile until he sees him again but, that you both can expect a wedding invitation in the next year or so.

As for Jimin and Taehyung- they will be following a similar path that you and Yoongi are. Their villa is positioned deep in the forest, even further from civilization than the one you’re headed to. The last thing Jimin said to Yoongi when they parted ways was that he plans on dropping by once every other month to catch up, emphasizing how much he would miss him.

Hoseok’s status was somewhat of a mystery and, Yoongi smirks with a sense of fascination as he explains where he might be. Years ago, Hoseok met a woman who matched his skill with a bow and arrow. She lived in a village not far from yours and, takes a rather firm position against any kind of authority. Hoseok took a liking to her attitude and, challenged her to a marksmen competition. She won. Naturally, Hoseok was both wounded and intrigued by this woman and, Yoongi suspects that they had been lovers for quite some time until his battalion eventually had to move on. Her name was Orion, just like the constellation and, Yoongi bets all the gold in his possession that Hoseok disappeared to look for her.

The ride to Yoongi’s villa comes to an end nearly half a day later and, you’re asleep on his lap when he gently shakes your shoulder.

“We’re here, darling.”

And here you most certainly were.

Beyond a massive wooden gate laid the most beautiful structure you had ever seen. The villa sits proudly in the middle of a massive stretch of emerald grass with an array of flowers blooming around the perimeter of the cherry oak that winds in intricate patterns up into strong pillars. The windows are tan and, made of a screen like material which is intended to keep pests out of the home. There is a pond just off to the side, which you are eager to explore later and, a balcony facing the right side of the forest. Yoongi had not exaggerated when he said that the villa was quite far from civilization for the backdrop of the scene before you were the mountains themselves, enormous and calm as they loom over the property.

Everything inside Yoongi’s villa was a brand of luxury you had never known: art, elaborate furniture, plumbing, and more space than you knew what to do with. Still however, it was uniquely Yoongi in that it was comforting.

It felt like home.

He explains some of the interior to you as he leads the way to his bedroom. He mentions that you can get comfortable and put your feet up while he checks the perimeter; something he says to expect every night.

Old habits die hard.

With a kiss, he opens the door for you and, promises he will return in shortly.

His bedroom, or our bedroom as he had called it, matched the rest of the villa. It was quaint but clearly displayed his immense wealth as he had an enormous bed in the center of the room covered in likely expensive linens. The windows were all shuttered for now, the only light coming from the lanterns hanging by the door and the entrance to the balcony.

Whilst Yoongi is checking the perimeter, you figure you only have a few minutes to prepare before he returns. Rushing over to your trunk, you settle beside it on your knees as you rifle through your belongings, looking for the one article you had been saving specifically for this evening. Tucked into the bottom, much neater than the rest of your items is a sapphire robe made from the finest silk your village offered. You had been working on it slowly every since Yoongi had left, preparing for the night when you two were finally alone.

You were buzzing with anticipation as you take off your clothes, neatly folding them and setting them aside. Then the cool silk is drawn over your body before you secure it with the tie just above your belly button.

With a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you pad over to the end of his bed and, take a seat upon the cream-colored linen. The rain begins marching prominently upon the outside of the villa bringing a cold breeze through the cracks in the shutters. The glow of the lanterns placed at the entrance of the chamber throw shadows onto the tile floor, entertaining you for only a moment until the creaking sound of the door grabs your attention.

Yoongi enters the room, not looking up as he relays the findings of his perimeter check, “Other than a few rabbits, the coast is clear and, I think after all my years of training I can handle-“ He is in the middle of this joke when he looks up at you, the rest of his sentence dying on his tongue. You see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his eyes darkening as they trail over your figure.

It seems like forever before he says something, his body simply frozen by the door, unable to do much else aside from staring at you.

“I don’t remember you packing that…” He breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.

“That’s because I hid it from you intentionally.” A nervous but sly smile comes across your lips, your hands sliding over the tops of your thighs, smoothing down the robe for the millionth time, “Do you like it?”

He’s shaking his head, his lips kissing his teeth, as he steps just a little bit closer to you, “That’s really not the proper word to use…”

“Well-“ You swallow, standing up from your position on the bed, eyes searching for his, “You are free to use whatever words you’d like…”

“I’ve suddenly forgotten most of the words I know, unfortunately.” He counters, his eyes darting from you to the floor multiple times before finally focusing on your face. And he’s shaking his head all over again, a sort of desperate look in his eyes, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

The sincerity in his tone takes your breath away but, you do everything you can to hold his gaze, trying to beckon him toward you, “I want you to see all of me.” Your hands are moving towards the tie that’s concealing you from him but, when you’re about to undo it, his voice stops you.

“Wait-“ He pleads, hands lingering out in front of him, “May I?”

You try your best to swallow but, the sheer look of desire in his eyes is removing all moisture from your mouth. Nodding, you hold a hand out to him, your fingers wiggling to beckon him toward you.

He finally seems to thaw out his frozen posture, heeding the gesture of your hand and, closing the distance between you. Almost involuntarily, he leans down and places a soft kiss against your mouth. His lips are dry, almost sticking to yours as he pulls away.

He’s nervous.

You both are.

But at the same time, you feel so incredibly at ease. There is a sense of peace between you now and, even though you’re about to experience something incredibly intense, you are both finally free from the bonds of the outside world.

Now, it is only the two of you and, all the unresolved passion that needs tending to.

Yoongi leans his forehead against your own, his hands slowly moving towards the tie at the center of your robe. You can see that they are unstable, the breath that leaves his nose is proof of that but, he continues forth anyway until his fingers are beneath the bow.

“You’re sure?” He whispers, his breath hot on your lips, making you want to kiss him all over again.

Your hands come up then, cupping either side of his face as you pull away, eyes desperately searching his own, “Certain.”

With your confirmation, he pulls the tie forward, drawing the robe apart and revealing your bare body to him. You never allow your eyes to leave his face, wanting to capture every bit of his reaction.

When you come into view, his expression seems to collapse slightly, his lips immediately parting in awe. Doing the impossible, he tries to swallow again when you use your fingers to slide the robe the rest of the way off.

And without saying a single word, he drops to his knees right in front of you, his hands coming up to grip your hips. Looking up at you, he shakes his head in disbelief, entirely overwhelmed by your beauty.

“There isn’t a battle in the world that could have prepared me for you.”

His words knock the wind from your chest, your breath leaving your lips in an unstable burst when your hand comes out to touch his cheek. When you do, he smiles, with nothing but bliss present in his expression. He turns his face so that he can press his lips into your palm a few times before rubbing his mouth over the area. Your other hand comes into play then, brushing over the clips in his hair and then allowing your fingers to slide down the length of his ponytail.

Right before he speaks again, he drags his lips to your wrist and, nibbles at the skin there, his grin broadening when he hears the change in your breathing, “Will you take my hair down for me, darling?”

His request is nearing the likeness of a coo. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before but, you now know you’d do anything if he asked you with this voice.

You pull your hand from his face and, allow it to join your other one in gently removing the accessories in Yoongi's hair. They might add a level of luxury to his look but, you know for a fact you prefer him without them.

He is beautiful without any embellishments.

When you start on undoing the elaborate work in his hair, he rests his chin just beneath your belly button and, simply stares up at you. The intensity of his gaze actually makes your cheeks hot but, you do your best to continue taking down his hair, scratching at his scalp once you’re finished removing the clips.

His eyes close as you do, a low hum resonating in his throat at the sensation. Yoongi’s hands begin moving down the sides of your body whilst his lips pepper kisses all along your stomach. They’re wet and lacking urgency and, they send a wave of pleasure directly between your thighs.

“Your hair is so beautiful- you'll have to let me practice my skills on it one day...” You murmur with a smile, letting out a sigh as he takes a bite out of your hip.

“You may do whatever you wish with me...” Yoongi smirks, sponging his lips down towards the ache between your leg, “For however long you wish.”

“I wish to undress you-” You reply, coaxing his gaze up towards you, “and then maybe have a turn on my knees...”

At your comment, Yoongi takes another bite out of your hip, his eyes blazing with lust. And almost defiantly, he begins kissing towards the tuft of hair between your legs, his tongue licking and just barely tasting the skin above your core.

Your fingers are back in his hair when he buries his face in yours and, you hear him inhale deeply before exhaling with a groan.

“You smell so good…” He nearly whines, kissing over the mound of your pussy, “…wont you wait your turn? I want to taste you first.”

And it’s so unbelievably lewd isn’t it?

The two of you had only pecked each other’s lips and, your lover is still completely dress and yet, he is begging to bury his head between your legs.

“Before you’ve undressed?” You tease, trying to maintain some level of sanity but, the way he’s looking at you is making that an impossible feat.

He looks absolutely maddened.

His response comes in the form of his tongue, licking over the top of you whilst his hands grip the outside of your thighs to coax them apart.

“Do you want me to starve?” He accuses, a sense of darkness in his eyes. Before you’re able to answer, he licks up the length of your pussy, his fingers pressing into your flesh, “Hm?”

The lust that’s running through your body is peaking at dangerous levels from his touch but, the way he’s talking to you is sending you into frenzy.

You feel like you’re going to explode.

“No, of course n-“

He cuts you off then, his eyes nearly black with desire, “Then let me eat.”

Your head is on the pillows seconds later with Yoongi nudging your legs apart so that he can situate himself between them. The silk of his own robes tease across the surface of your sensitive skin with every movement of his body. He still seems to be taking in the rest of you with hungry eyes but, as soon as he uses his hands to part your legs, his gaze turns ravenous.

Bared before him, you can feel how wet you are when the cold air of the room hits the moisture between your lips. You’re positively drenched and, he hasn’t even touched you yet.

This fact doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi who is now smirking darkly betwixt your thighs. He says nothing as his index finger draws a line straight down the center of your pussy before curling towards himself as he follows it back up, collecting the evidence of your arousal.

Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way you’ve drenched his finger but, he emphasizes the visual by rubbing his index against the tip of his thumb, only to pull them apart and display your arousal drawing a string between them.

Yoongi stares at you with slight quirk to his lips as he raises his fingers to his mouth. He makes a show of sucking each of his digits until his cheeks hollow out, his eyes closing at the taste of you.

Your cunt quivers at the sight of him, mouth parted in disbelief at how unbelievably good he looks.

When he pulls his lips from his fingers, he allows the smirk to form on his mouth once again before whispering, “Oh- I’m going to devour you.”

And then his head is buried between your thighs.

Yoongi’s tongue moves with contradiction, like lightening and mud all at once. He traces the tip of it around the circumference of your clit slowly but, sucks it into his mouth with fervor. In an effort to torture you with pleasure, he never does one movement for too long, knowing that this would draw you to your end far too quickly.

You can feel your breath leaving your lips at an unstable rate, your fingers searching for something to grasp onto. Yoongi has this covered of course, his hands reaching for yours before resting both of your intertwined digits on your hips.

His tongue continues to explore each fold of you. It’s as if he were collecting every ounce of moisture from your cunt before becoming determined to make you to make it all over again.

When Yoongi is satisfied with cleaning you up, he sets his sights on your clit, his tongue licking over the throbbing bundle of nerves three times before releasing his grip on of your hands and, placing one atop his head.

With an adoring glance, he slurs, “Use my mouth, darling. Show me how you like it…”

His gesture makes you let out a breath you had been unconsciously holding, your grip tightening in his hair at his request.

The sensation sends a shiver down his spine that he most certainly plans on addressing later. For now however, he is preoccupied with learning how you like to cum.

You tug his hair gently so his mouth his back over your clit and, slowly you move his head up and down. Ever the fast learner, he quickly picks up on the pattern you want and begins licking his tongue over the throbbing muscle.

The relief that comes with consistent pleasure finally pulls a moan from your lips, to which Yoongi immediately mirrors between your legs. You find yourself parting your legs further, your hips angling up to get closer to his mouth which only causes him to increase the pressure of his tongue.

The pleasure is mounting inside of your stomach like a hurricane and, for some buried reason, you bite your lip to attempt from crying out. Yoongi stops what he is doing and pulls his lips from you, which are completely soaked with your arousal.

His brows are drawn together in disappointment, his hair tickling your thighs as he shakes his head, “Oh please…let it out my love, no one can hear you but me.”

He pulls his tongue up the length of your clit slowly, his gaze nearly predatory as he reinforces his request, “Won’t you sing for me, darling?”

You nod, licking over your lips as you guide his mouth back to your cunt. He seems to work twice as hard now, flattening his tongue as he continues to rub it against your clit.

The muscles within your core are fluttering inside of you, your orgasm not far from reality. At Yoongi’s pleading you allow yourself to be more vocal, whimpering his name when he sucks at your clit.

He groans again at the sound of it, his fingers digging into your hips for the moment and then, suddenly pulling back. Eyes locking with yours, his wet lips get to work on lubricating his digits before positioning them at your entrance.

Yoongi licks his lips and, with a salacious look he says, “Deep breath…”

And try as you might, the feeling of his fingers curling up inside of you, yank the breath you attempt to take right from your throat.

“Ah-“ You preen, leaning up on your elbows to watch him fuck you with his fingers, “Oh Yoongi…yoongi…”

He grins up at you, securing his fingertips against the spongy tissue you inside of you whilst his other hand comes down to rub at your clit, “I shall ban anyone else from uttering my name, only you know how to say it correctly.”

With the increase in speed and pressure, you can feel something mounting inside of you that you’ve never felt before. You don’t quite know what it is, you just know that you’re going to make a mess.

Slightly panicky, your shaky hand reaches out for him, “These are clean linens…I feel like I’m going to soil them.”

The breathy and desperate nature of your tone goes straight to Yoongi’s throbbing erection but, instead of burying myself in you as he wants to, he merely increases the pace of his fingers.

“They will be much cleaner if you do, my love.” He assures you, his voice nearly cooing, “Just remember to say my name.”

His right hand is massaging against your clit at the perfect pace as his fingers curl up harder inside of you. The squelching sounds from your body would normally embarrass you under different circumstances but now, the pleasure is too overwhelming for you to care.

“Oh- oh Yoongi…yoongi…” You whine, your back arching off the bed as the dams inside of you break, your orgasm gushing out of your cunt in a way it never has. And although you can’t see him because your eyes are screwed shut, you feel Yoongi’s breath grow closer to your core until his mouth is back on your clit.

“Yoongi!” You whimper, toes curling into the sheets as he draws the pleasure from you.

He groans against you once again, his tongue repeating the same pattern you showed him earlier until you are shivering mess beneath him. Once he can sense you growing sensitive, he gets to work at slurping up every ounce of your release. His lips are sucking at your folds, your entrance, the inside of your thighs, nibbling and licking up every single thing you gave him.

With spotty vision, you anxiously reach down for him, suddenly despising the distance between you. He takes notice instantly, crawling up the length of your body and, placing kisses on every bit of you that he can.

Yoongi’s hair forms a platinum curtain around your head, which closes quickly when you grip the back of his neck to pull him down towards you. You meet each other’s lips with a type of hunger you now fear that you could never satisfy, tongues intertwining with desperation.

Ever so tenderly however, Yoongi his cupping your cheek and whispering sentiments to ease your overstimulated body.

“Shhh it’s ok, its ok my love.”

“You did so well.”

“You fed me so well.”

“I love you- I love you so much…”

With each phrase, he seals it with a kiss, the rest of his body settling between your legs and its then you are reminded that he is still clothed and, desperately hard.

“I love you too.” You whisper shakily against his lips, “I want to see you, I want to please you now…”

You’re practically begging, filled with disdain that his body is hidden from you, especially after you’ve just cum all over his face.

And he’s grinning against your lips, a rather sly look twinkling in his eyes, “And how do you plan on pleasing me?” He hums, kissing up the length of your nose.

“Well…” You begin, allowing a hand to travel down the black silk adorning his body before finding the solid length of his cock, leaning away from his hips. Smirking softly, you place your palm against him, relishing in the way he twitches up towards it, “You said you’d give me your soul didn’t you? I want it down my throat first.”

Your comment causes him to groan, hips pushing forward against your hand as he furrows his brow. Almost frantically, he stares down at you and shakes his head, “I know you think of me as a strong man but, I don’t think I could contain myself if you put your mouth on me- not with the taste of you still on my lips.”

Using your hand, you encase his length in the silk of his pants, squeezing gently as you move it up towards the tip of him. And you have his head hanging on his shoulders now, arms trembling beside your head whilst he tries to hold himself together.

“I don’t remember asking you to contain yourself. Those have always been barriers you designed.”

Yoongi looks up at you, eyes drawn in with a mix of pleasure and apprehension. When you squeeze him again, he shivers, a wanton groan leaving his lips. When he opens his eyes again, they look more nervous than when he stood before you at the end of the bed. In fact, it’s a look that you’ve never really seen before.

It compels your hand away from him slowly as your other one comes to cup his face, “What’s wrong?”

He breathes out a laugh, his mouth turned up at the corner, “Why is it that you can always find your way into my head and yet, I can never find my way into yours?”

You ignore his attempt to lighten the mood, your thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek, “Yoongi- what is it?”

The tone of your voice is gentle but, the look in your eyes compels Yoongi to bear his truth, no more how vulnerable he feels.

“My body is-” He sighs and restarts his sentence, leaning his face into your hand, “The last battle, it left me with many injuries. Most of them have healed but, I don’t want them to startled you.”

You sit up then, causing him to take a seat on the backs of his legs. Unable to help your saddened expression, you simply shake your head, “Yoongi, the only thing your body can be is beautiful. You have laid your life on the line for the people of this land, myself included. I could only ever love everything about the body that brought you home to me.”

With glassy eyes Yoongi is reaching out for you, placing a searing kiss upon your lips and, through it he murmurs “I have never let anyone undress me before…”

You kiss him once more and pull away a bit to lock eyes with him, “Do you trust me?”

And looking like a much younger man, his wide-eyed gaze full of innocence he nods, his hand coming up to brush against your cheek, “You’re the only one.”

His response accounts for several sentiments. His trust, his love, his dedication…

All meant for you.

“May I undress you then?”

His answer comes in the form of another kiss, lips attaching to yours with passion as his hands reach out for your fingers. He leads them to front of his robe, which covers the length of his tunic and his pants and urges you to remove it from him. Taking his lead, you push the material from his shoulders and, allow it to drop behind him before finding your way to the hem of his tunic.

The two of you find each other's eyes once again whilst you slowly draw the material up his torso. He follows your motions, lifting his arms above his head and placing them back by his sides when his tunic is removed.

The first thing you notice is his hair, flowing in prominent waves down his chest and, stopping just above his belly button. Then come his arms, strong and lanky all at once, much of their surface littered with the evidence of his missions. You can see what he meant and, you try to control your expression when you gaze upon the bruises and, cuts that have yet to heal.

You want to scold him for not acknowledging his injuries earlier so, that you could tend to them. But, you can clearly see that they have been taken care of by someone with much more skill.

His eyes are on you, searching for any sign of disapproval, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

He wish you could hear what you are thinking.

But just then, a soft smile comes over your lips as you carefully take his chin betwixt your fingers, “Just as I thought- you are molded from the gods, Min Yoongi. There has never been a man who contained more beauty.”

Your words hit his heart like a dagger, some of the air nearly forced out of his lungs. And he’s wanting to kiss you again, his lips desperately chasing yours before your hand comes to rest on his chest.

“Easy tiger…” You giggle, causing his lips to twitch into a smile, “I haven’t finished yet…”

He eases up, moving back into place with both of you still on your knees, facing one another. With tender hands, you move the tendrils of hair from his chest so that they flow freely down his back. His chest is fully exposed to you now, the swollen muscles beneath his pecks also displaying traces of the life he has lived.

Of the life he is finally able to leave behind.

Now, with just your fingertips, you trail your them across his clavicle, stopping for a moment at the ball of his shoulders before trailing them all the way to his wrists. A prominent shiver rattles through him, his hands twitching by his sides with the need to reach out and touch you.

But he doesn’t.

He stays perfectly still with only his eyes falling shut as you explore the surface of his skin. You take your time, dipping your fingers into the lines of his muscles, tracing the maze of veins beneath his skin, and smoothing your palms across the tops of his shoulders.

He’s properly turning to mush when you whisper, “Lay down…”

Like a man bewitched, he feels the urge to obey every command that comes from your lips and, commit every statement you make to memory.

He pushes his hair back, allowing it to settle on the pillows in various directions. And beneath you now, with his arms outstretched above his head, he looks like a king.

A sort of curve settles on his mouth when you position yourself between his thighs and, although he may look strong and confident beneath you, you can’t hear the way his heart is hammering in his chest.

Sex is familiar to Yoongi.

Intimacy however, is not.

Smoothing your palms down the muscles in his stomach, you use your fingers to hook under the band of his pants.

“You might need to help me with this part.” You smile and it only broadens as he chuckles, lifting his butt in the air and maneuvering his body so that he can help you pull the material down his legs.

Settling back into his position, Yoongi takes a deep breath whilst you take in the sight of him. He’s so hard. The skin of his dick, reddening towards the tip, the veins winding patterns up his shaft, the whole length of him begging to be touched.

“My, my- so the rumors are true…” You muse, slowly tickling your fingers up his inner thighs, which send his dick twitching in response.

His brow is furrowed however, wondering what you’re getting at and, you answer him before he ends up asking you.

“You do keep a viper on you at all times.”

And for the first time this evening, he is laughing. The full bellied and rickety sound leaves his lips as he wipes a hand over his face.

“You are incorrigible.”

His tone is disapproving but, his eyes are still filled to the brim with adoration. Because of course you would make this so easy for him.

Of course you would make love so easy.

All of his fears seem to mean nothing when he is with you, even when he is at his most vulnerable like he is now.

“And you, my dear Yoongi-“ Your tone lowers a bit as your brush your fingers over his balls, smirking when you see his chest puff out, “-are beautiful.”

With that, you lean down and lick slowly up the length of his cock, collecting the bit of precum that has collected on the tip. He tastes like the salt of the earth and, with that small bit of him- you now find yourself craving so much more.

His lips part, a sharp breath leaving the confines of his throat, his fingers quickly rushing to the sheets in anticipation. It’s been nearly half a year since he received any sort of pleasure from another person but, seeing as it’s now coming from the woman he loves, he is overwhelmed.

You are licking up the length of him again, your ass sticking up there for him to gaze upon as you slowly encircle his throbbing dick in your palm.

He is melting.

With his chest rising and falling unsteadily, Yoongi’s stare blazes right through you, when you suck him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck-“ He swears under his breath, the sound of that word coming from his lips sending an ache back to your core. You start him out slow, your cheeks hollowing out with the force of the suction you’re providing him.

His fingers toy helplessly with the linen beside him, the pleasure from your mouth numbing the tips of his toes.

With your free hand, you cup his balls, sighing through your nose at the almost desperate groan that leaves his mouth. He looks beautiful, his lips parted, stomach caved in at the pleasure he’s experiencing, his hands fisting in the sheets beside him.

“’sso good…” His brow is furrowed now, hips jolting a bit when you take him deeper towards your throat, “Be c- careful love, I don’t want to hurt you…”

But you don’t listen and, instead you continue your motions, your two fingers pressing behind his balls as you attempt to swallow his length.

“A-ah…” He throws his hand over his mouth, still slightly apprehensive at the sounds he wishes to make. You watch him as he breaths through the gaps in his fingers, eyes squeezing shut whilst you take him further down your throat.

He moans into his hand, his toes curling into the linen. And to address his attempt to conceal his sounds of pleasure, you simply walk your fingers across his trembling stomach and tap lightly.

Instinctually, he looks down at you- nearly cumming when you suck off of his length, your lips swollen and covered in saliva which you then spit back down on his dick.

Rubbing your lips against the sensitive underside of him, you coo, “We’re the only ones out here, my love. Let it out…”

He leans down, rubbing his thumb over your lips for the moment as he nods rapidly before allowing his head to hit the pillow again.

Chest heaving, he tries to prepare himself for your mouth all over again but, fails miserably. The pleasure is just so intense.

You waste no time in easing him back into your mouth, paying careful attention to relax your throat. He is confident, even in all of his years of sexual exploration, that he has never felt like this before.

He feels like he barely has a grip on his sanity and, when you take him down your throat- he has no choice but to whimper.

The sound only encourages you, your eyes unable to leave him as you watch his nipples harden, his stomach cave again, his eyes roll back…

“Fucking- fuck…fuck fuck…” He mutters through gritted teeth before his mouth parts again, “Please- don’t stop.”

Fucking him into your throat is no easy feat but, the sheer state of ecstasy he seems to be in, allows you to continue.

You rub at his hips, attempting to sooth him, your motions on his dick now becoming hands-free as his hips start pumping at their own pace. Despite the burn in your throat, you don’t ease up, wanting to see him overcome with the sensations, wanting to please him completely…

He shakes his head, eyes blown out and searching for an explanation as to why it feels so good but, he comes up empty.

Its just you.

Yoongi slams his head against the pillows, exposing his Adams apple when he swallows back the scream that wants to leave his chest. But when he feels his balls tighten and throb with his impending orgasm, he caresses your cheek.

“Please, my love- wait a moment…please…” He’s only pleading because it’s the only thing that can properly leave his mouth right now, for your motions on him have left him bewildered.

You’re careful to suck off of him cleanly, kissing the tip of his dick as you bat your eyes at him, “Are you alright?”

He’s smirking now, and a breathless laugh comes from his lips, “I think you’re well aware of how I’m doing.”

You giggle at his comment, kissing his dick again before resting your cheek upon his hip, “Then what is it?”

And with that same rather innocent, slightly humble look in his eye, he confesses, “I’ve always pictured being inside of you…the first time.”

In his earnest and rather proper way of explaining himself, you are simply taken over by your love for him.

He looks at you as if he is asking for the world but, little did he know- you would think nothing of giving him such a thing.

You’re kissing his hip now and starting a trail up his naked body. His hands come to life beside you and take their time caressing over your skin.

One last trail is place up the valley of his chest before your lips are hovering over his.

“Then be inside me.” You whisper into his mouth, sucking the bottom half of it into yours.

A deep growl resonates within his chest and, the next thing you know he is flipping you over, arms placed on either side of your head as he reconnects your lips.

Wildly, he kisses at you, allowing your tongues to intertwine in a somewhat disorganized fashion, neither of you concerned with rhythm at this point.

Yoongi is pulling away to take a look at you, silently reassuring himself that this beautiful creature below him, desires him too.

It’s slightly hard to wrap his brain around.

But as you raise your middle finger to the scar marring his right eye, you are breaking down the last of his concerns. He closes his lids beneath your touch, his chest tightening as you whisper,

“No more wounds, my love. I will make sure you feel only pleasure for the rest of your life.”

With a last and exasperated sigh, Yoongi guides himself inside of you in one quick motion.

“Oh-“ He breathes, his eyes widening as he chokes back a moan.

Your own moan is forced from your chest, Yoongi’s rhythm not giving you a chance to last very long.

He presses his forehead against yours, his mouth hanging open even as you kiss at it, hips quickening with each thrust inside of you.

“I love you.” You moan, whilst your hands come up to secure themselves behind his neck.

He is hurling towards his release so quickly, he fears the intensity of it, but the only thing he can tangibly focus on is confessing his love to you over and over.

“I will l-love you forever, it is a-all I will ever do for the rest of m-my life…”

Even as he stumbles over his words, his eyes never leave yours, pouring all of the emotion he feels into his movements.

He pours and he pours…

And you drink and you drink…

Until there is nothing left to do but surrender to one another.

The first rope of his release leaves his body with a jolt, his hips jerking forward and, immediately his eyes screw shut, his face burying into your neck.

You rub his back, kissing all along the side of his face as another hot spurt of cum leaves his cock.

“Oh Y/N…” He whines finally, sounding in pain and relieved all at once, “Y/N…Y/N…Y/N…”

He calls your name over and over and, somewhere along the edges of bliss, you tip over the edge too, digging your nails into his back as you do.

You seem to take turns saying the name of one another, the two of you riding out your highs for as long as possible until finally, your lover collapses on top of you.

In the stillness of the night, the only sound either of you allow is the rainfall atop the roof and, the whispering sound of your breathing.

For awhile, you just trace shapes into the skin of Yoongi’s back as his lips sponge into your neck and across your shoulder, or any part of you that he can reach. Moments later, his concern for his bodyweight upon you takes precedence and, he finally rolls over, the two of you wincing at the loss of contact.

You quickly take your place atop his chest as he leans over to the bedside table and, grabs the goblet of water waiting there. There was one on either side when you came in and, you assumed the staff had put them there.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and, attempts to steady his hand as he brings the goblet towards you but, to no avail.

His hand continues to shake.

Placing your hand around his, you try to assist him as a soft bout of laughter leaves your lips, “You’re trembling.”

And with waves of messy hair framing his beautiful face, he simply grins and corrects you, “I am in love.”

He raises the glass to your lips and, admires you when you take several big gulps, feeling good that he is able to take care of you.

His reply sends butterflies into your stomach, which seems like a rather impossible feat considering the fact that they had taken up a permanent residence there months ago.

When the Tiger moved into your life…

You usher the glass towards his lips with a soft smile, feeling so much happiness at the peace present in his eyes.

“As I’m I.” You whisper, rubbing your hand over his hip as he drinks the rest of the water in the goblet. There is also a sense of exhaustion in his gaze however and, you are met with the reminder that he probably hasn’t slept properly in months.

Your telepathy pays off once more as Yoongi addresses the heaviness upon his lids.

“I always pictured this to end with one of our elaborate existential conversations…” He chuckles softly, laying back on the pillow. Before he continues, he is reaching up to brush his thumb over your lips, “…but I do believe you’ve drained me of energy for now, my girl.”

A kiss is placed against his thumb, “Sleep now. We have plenty of time to question our existence.”

Yoongi chuckles again, using the hand that’s on your face to pull you closer to him. He kisses you one last time, ensuring that it reaches your soul before he’s puling you beneath the covers with him.

The last thing you remember before drifting off is another exchange of those three words.

The three words you would never grow tired of saying.

Yoongi sleeps well past sunrise. His chest rises steadily beneath your head for the better part of the morning and, although you want to wait it out, your desire to see the view from the balcony finally overtakes you.

You’re careful not to wake the sleeping man beneath you as you slip out of his grip. And as you’re pulling on the silk robe he had left discarded the night before, you take the time to admire him. Cheeks puffed out, lips pouted, brow smoothed over, none of his features containing a single ounce of worry…

You planned on keeping him this content for as long as you both shall live.

The mid-morning air was cold but, it felt nice upon your skin. Sleeping with Yoongi was new and, you now know that he emits as much body heat as a fully grown bear.

Or a Tiger…depending on who you ask…

This of course is wonderful, especially given how harsh winter can get but, you were growing quite warm beneath his arm.

The balcony was simple. It was painted the same color as the rest of the villa: a deep cherry red and, other than a few plants in the right corner, there was nothing else aside from the view.

Overlooking the grounds of the villa, the balcony displayed all of the elaborate architecture as well as the natural aspects of the grounds themselves. You set your eyes on the mountains to the left of you and, are overcome with excitement at the thought of them being covered in snow.

A hawk flies high above your head, his call echoing off every surface around of the villa, connecting the two of you for that single moment. As your eyes move to admire the thick expanse of trees before you, a pair of strong silk-covered arms wrap around your waist.

And normally, you would jump in surprise but, this time you don’t.

You could sense him staring at you for quite a while now but, rather than disturb him, you just let him have his moment.

Most of your moments would be spent staring at him if you had it your way.

“I had feared for a moment that I had only dreamt of you again…”

The tone of his morning voice is much deeper and covered in gravel, the sound sending a shiver through you. You lean back against him, lips curving up in a smile.

“We are finally alone, General Min.” You assure him softly, rubbing over his forearms. He kisses up your neck, causing your eyes to shut, just basking in the feeling of him.

Of the man you love.

“Well-“ And you can hear the grin in his voice, “Not completely alone.”

You open your eyes, confused by his response but as you try and look back at him, he is jerking his head towards the trees. At first you are confused by the amazed expression on his face but, when you see the mix of orange and black moving through the forest in the distance, you gasp in understanding.

“Is that?”

“A tiger?” He chuckles and when you look back once more, to confirm your suspicion, he winks at you, “It most certainly is.”

“Should we be worried?” You breathe, quite amazed yourself. The tiger doesn’t seem agitated from what you can tell, they merely move through the trees slowly- seemingly locked onto a destination.

“No, this one I have seen before.” He replies confidently, “They maintain their distance just fine…” Yoongi pauses for a moment and, then smiles to himself, “Unless of course, he falls in love…then we’ll never get him to leave.”

[nyctophilin]

Fake Affection | IV

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 7.6k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: swearing, mild description of wounds, dom!jisung, oral(F), fingering, protected penetration, heartbreak

A/N: This got so long, Jesus! Once again I am really sorry for not posting this on time. Thank you for understanding! I’m not going to say much about this chapter. But here’s a fun fact. I wrote the smut part last. Literally, everything that happens after the smut part was written before the actual smut. Just enjoy it! Feedback is not an option anymore!!! If you read the whole story you are forced to give me feedback. Please! I really want to know what y’all think about THIS chapter.

      “Stay still!” Y/N murmured, tapping the cotton pad on Jisung’s busted lip.

      It had been around ten to fifteen minutes since Jisung decided that it was a good idea to engage in a fistfight with Hyunjin. After her ‘boyfriend’ landed the first punch everything escalated in a full-on fight where, unfortunately for him, he was the loser. Not only was Hyunjin taller than him, but he also turned out to be a lot stronger and faster, barely giving Jisung time to fight back. 

      He did manage to hit the taller man a few times but he got hit three times more. They finally got separated when a group of male students passed in the hallway and Y/N begged them to help her stop the two. That way they took Hyunjin away and she dragged Jisung outside to the back of the university, to the same bench they sat on a few weeks back.

      “I can’t. It stings!” He once again jerked his head away when the rubbing alcohol made contact with his fresh wound.

      “Then you shouldn’t have fought!” Y/N held back the urge to shove him. He was injured enough. “Why did you even hit him in the first place?” The question that bugged her since he threw the first punch was finally out.

      Jisung grabbed her hand, stopping her from disinfecting his wounds further. Exhaling noisily he looked her in the eyes, an uncharacteristic seriousness present in them. Y/N looked back at him with expectant eyes.

      “You were in front of the window over the bench we sat at. Mina and the others saw when Hyunjin hugged you. I felt like doing that would make our relationship look more realistic and show that I’m a great boyfriend.” The confidence with which he said those words made her let out an incredulous laugh.

      “What?” Narrowing her eyes she tilted her head to the side.

      “What kind of a boyfriend would let another man console his girlfriend? I had to show her that I’m possessive and I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

      Unable to control herself anymore she shove him hard and the man let out a wince. Y/N got up from the bench and took two steps away, trying to calm herself down. 

      “Mina, Mina, Mina! This is all you talk about!” Her voice was calm but her tone was stern.

      Jisung couldn’t see her face but he already knew how she looked.

      “I’m confused. Isn’t this whole thing about..”

      “IT’S NOT! It’s so not!” She burst, turning towards him abruptly.

      “How is it not?” The boy looked genuinely confused and that stirred Y/N on even more.

      “Are you serious now?” Jisung opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but closed it after taking a moment to think. “It is not, because it wasn’t her ass that you groped. It is not, because it wasn’t her chest that you touched. And it is definitely not, because it wasn’t a line that she drew that you crossed. This whole incident wasn’t about Mina and would not be even in a thousand years.” Her tone became harsher with each word she let out, turning into full-on screaming by the end.

      Y/N ran a hand through her hair trying to contain herself. She could not believe what just happened. The fact that he was confused as to why she was mad didn’t help her disposition at all.

      Jisung was watching her mannerism with blown pupils. He has never seen her this mad. She scared him in a way he could not explain. Maybe it was the fact that he just got beaten up and in her state, she could easily land him some punches that he was bound to remember. However, he had a very unsettling feeling running through him at the moment.

      “I never thought it would be such a big deal.” He let out but immediately regretted his words as he saw her lift her eyebrow.

      Letting out a breath and crossing her arms under her chest she fixed him with her eyes. In a voice that was so calm, it made the hair on Jisung’s neck to stand on end, she started talking.

      “Do you remember when you kept me awake until 1 AM to talk about the ‘Terms and Conditions’ of this whole fake dating thing we are doing? Do you remember how you made me agree to so many stupid things that we were supposed to do? I had one condition. Only one! Can you tell me what it was?” A smile so fake on her face, even someone from the other end of the university could tell it wasn’t honest.

      Jisung swallowed the lump in his throat, moving his gaze on the ground. He did not dare look her in the eyes anymore. Letting his tongue wet his bottom lip he opened his mouth to speak.

      “Don’t touch you.” He sounded embarrassed and ashamed and that pleased Y/N.

      “Exactly! I agreed to kissing, I agreed to hugging, I agreed to sitting in your lap if the situation asks for it. I only asked you not to touch me in any inappropriate way.” She took a short break to breath. “If I remember correctly when I told you that you texted me back ‘As if.’. What happened? Did I suddenly become worth fucking?”

      Jisung’s eyes widened at her words, the unsettling feeling from earlier growing. He could not explain to himself why he was feeling that way. Was it because of the way she was acting or because his behaviour pushed her to act like that?

      “What? No! It’s just…”

      “Just what?” She yelled, interrupting him.

      The man bit his bottom lip and slowly raised his eyes to look at her. 

      “I thought we were becoming closer, like friends. I didn’t think it was going to bother you so much.” In all honesty, he didn’t think much before acting. 

      He wasn’t sure why he did it in the first place. Maybe it was the fact that Mina was watching and he wanted to make her remember what she was missing out on. Or maybe it was the way Jay would look at Y/N every time the smallest gust of wind would make her skirt slightly flutter. He wanted to force himself to believe it was the first option, but deep down he knew he was lying to himself.

      “You are fucking right! We were becoming close. Compared to what I was thinking about you when I first accepted this deal, I really started to think that you were a nice and funny guy to be around. But you know what? Scrap that! You proved to be the asshole I always thought you were.” She let her head fall back as a headache started setting in. Letting out a frustrated moan she brought her head back up looking at Jisung.

      “And don’t even get me started about how upset I am that you punched Hyunjin. He was just trying to make me feel better after what you did. What is this going to do to your friendship?”

      “It will definitely be awkward when we’ll see each other at home.” Jisung murmured more to himself than to her.

      Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. Taking big steps, she closed the space between them grabbing the boy by the collar. The man froze, stunned by her action. Bringing their faces close, she looked at him with demanding eyes.

      “You are roommates?” Her voice bewildered, as her eyes travelled to every part of his face.

      Jisung nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. She pushed him against the back of the bench, knocking the air out of him. Her hand shot where her back was resting next to him and in a swift motion, she swung it over her shoulder. Taking a few steps away she turned around and looked at him with accusing eyes.

      “I can’t believe you risked your friendship with Hyunjin for..for. For a bitch who you are not even sure likes you back! How stupid are you? Do you want to know what you showed her today? You showed her that you are a nymphomaniac and a bogeyman.”

      Y/N ran her hand through her hair, annoyance pumping through her veins. She could not believe the audacity the man in front of her had. Sucking in a sharp breath, she continued talking.

      “Right now I should be with Hyunjin, not with you. He actually cares about my feelings. I should be there to nurse his wounds and thank him for caring enough to start a fight with your sorry ass. You don’t deserve me and my help! I should just leave and never see you again. Leave you to deal with your little crush by yourself but compared to you I actually care about other people. It’s so pathetic how after a year and a half you couldn’t make her your official girlfriend so I’m giving you another week. If by next Wednesday she didn’t fall head over heels for you, I’m out!”

      Looking for her phone in her bag, she took it out when she found it and dialled someone. Turning on her heels, she left Jisung alone on the bench. Following Y/N with his eyes, his heart sank when he heard the worried tone she used when calling Hyunjin’s name.

      Jisung remained sprawled on the bench from the way she pushed him and a deep sight left his chest. He had fucked up big time and he wasn’t sure if he could do anything to fix things. 

      The man couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy that settled inside him when he remembered that she was on her way to see Hyunjin. She was supposed to stay with him. She was his girlfriend. Y/N was his girlfriend.

      He repeated that to himself for a few minutes knowing full well that it wasn’t true. They weren’t together. It was all just a game.

      Y/N watched him with attentive eyes as the spoon disappeared inside his mouth and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed the soup. His face contorted in discomfort when the spoon touched the corner of his mouth that was cut. One of her hands instantly gripped his bicep while the other was awkwardly moving in front of him with no exact destination.

      Hyunjin held her hand and carefully placed it on the table, not letting it go. With a bright smile, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

      “I’m fine, Y/N! Please, don’t worry. Eat or you’ll starve.” His voice was soft and loving, trying to show the girl that he was truly okay.

      Minho watched the scene unfold in front of him and a scoff left his lips. Besides that little cut in the corner of his mouth and a bruise on his neck, the man looked as good as new. He didn’t need the babying the girl was giving him.

      Shifting his eyes to Jisung, he felt an uncomfortable shiver run through him. The man had his lip busted in two places, a bruise under his eye and on his jaw and he had a cut on his forehead. And that was all only on his face. God knows what was hiding under his clothes. Hyunjin really didn’t hold back.

      Looking down at his tray, Jisung only had a protein shake that he brought from home on it. He was most probably unable to chew things properly thanks to the wounds on his mouth. He was sipping from the shake while watching with sad eyes how his girlfriend was almost glued to Hyunjin, making sure that he’s as comfortable as he can be. Minho was looking at him with pitiful eyes.

      “Jisung is more hurt, but I guess it doesn’t matter.” He muttered to himself, giving Y/N side-eyes.

      In an instant, the girl’s eyes were fixed on him, a cold look plastered on her face. He felt his bones freeze inside himself, and embarrassment washed over him when he realised how scared he got. 

      Y/N moved her eyes between Minho and Jisung before finally rolling them and shifting her attention back on Hyunjin.

      “Jisung is a big man that makes his own decisions. I’m sure that when he started the fight he thought of the possibility of getting beaten. Now he has to endure the consequences of his actions.” She said, finally taking a bite out of her sandwich.

      “That doesn’t change the fact that he was the one that got hurt more. You as his girlfriend should be caring about him, not about the guy that put him in this state.” Minho said feeling the bit of confidence he had in him leave his body once her eyes darkened with rage.

      “I don’t know if you knew that, but Jisung knows how to handle himself. Look at how well he’s handling this relationship!” Sarcasm dripped off her tongue showing Minho there were parts to the story he wasn’t aware of.

      A heavy silence fell upon the table after she spoke and no one dared to say anything for a couple of minutes. The only sounds were coming from the cutlery hitting the plates and bowls. Chan finally let out a sigh attracting the attention of a few people.

      “Maybe he had his reasons to start that fight.” 

      The older man tried resonating with her. All they knew about the situation was what Jeongin had told them. Y/N got really mad after Jisung touched certain parts of her body and she left them, Hyunjin close behind her probably wanting to console her. He agreed that Jisung had absolutely no business starting a fight after what he had done, but he was his friend and he felt obliged to take his side.

      Silence. For a minute Chan thought she wouldn’t answer him. 

      “Oh, he did. I know his reasons and I can assure you they were all shit. He has absolutely no justification for what he did.” Voice calm while looking the older male in the eyes.

      “They were still reasons..!” Felix said in a careful tone.

      She rolled her eyes exasperated. Who the fuck did they think they were questioning her like that. Is not like she was mad for no reason.

      Letting the sandwich fall into the plate, she got up and swung her bag over her shoulder.

      “I have something to prepare for Miss. Park’s class. Jeongin, I will see you later to go to rehearsals, okay?” The man nodded in her direction and she got out of her seat, taking a few steps away from the table.

      Abruptly stopping in her track she let out a sigh. They were right. She wasn’t like that. She was way better than that. Just because he was an asshole didn’t mean she had to be one as well.

      Turning towards the table, she walked behind Jisung’s chair. Resting her palms on his shoulders she bent down carefully placing a kiss on his bruised cheek.

      Jisung jumped slightly at the contact, taken aback by the sudden proximity. His cheeks became a faint rosy colour and he felt a knot forming in his stomach.

      “Make sure to disinfect your wounds when you get home, okay?” She whispered in his ear, her voice soft and he nodded slowly. He didn’t dare turn his head around to look at her. 

      “Take care!” 

      She straightened her back, but not before placing another kiss to his cheek. Waving her hand to the other people, she finally made her way to the double doors of the cafeteria, leaving the room.

      “God, this movie is so boring!” She exclaimed in the empty room.

      Y/N was currently sprawled on the couch in her living room watching some film Hayoon recommended to her. It was another Friday night without any plans to go out so she ordered some pizza, bought some snacks on her way home from university and opened a bottle of wine some of her friends gifted her a few months back.

      She wasn’t big on alcohol. In fact, she hated consuming alcoholic drinks but if that was going to help her with her boring night, she was more than willing to endure the sickening taste.

      Covered with a blanket pulled up to her neck, Y/N felt the heat suffocate her in a comfortable sort of way. She almost felt annoyed when she heard the familiar ring of her phone indicating she got a message.

      Letting one of her arms escape the confines of the blanket she shivered slightly when the cold air hit her skin. Grabbing her phone from the coffee table she brought it close to her eyes reading the notification on the screen. ‘Jisung has sent you a message’ Y/N rolled her eyes wondering why he couldn’t let her alone on weekends.

[Jisung,22:48]A guy from my major is hosting a party tomorrow night. Come with me?

      Y/N read the message a few times before scoffing. Was he really inviting her to some lame college party where people were only going to drink and have sex?

[Y/N,22:50]Parties aren’t really my thing…

      She really hoped he wouldn’t push the subject further. Every time she went to a party she ended up looking for her friends, that weren’t engaging in the most Christian of activities, everywhere to take them home. She had to drive each and every one of them home and help them walk into their bedrooms resulting in her arriving home two hours later than intended. 

      If that was not happening then she had to endure the advances of drunk boys and girls and protect herself from getting groped or rubbed on. That was the last thing she needed to end a week that was already shitty.

      Another ringing indicated she received a response.

[Jisung,22:51]Mina is going to be there. We’ve been texting the last couple of days and I think she might finally accept to be my girlfriend if I ask her tomorrow night.

      Y/N let her head fall on the arm of the sofa, a groan leaving her mouth. Receiving that message only meant she had to go. That might be his only chance to make a move on Mina until Wednesday when the whole fake dating thing was going to end.

      Then out of nowhere, a thought hit her and she started typing on her phone.

[Y/N,22:52]Then why do you need me there?

      If Jisung was going to make a move on Mina wouldn’t it be smarter for him not to want his so-called girlfriend there? Wasn’t she going to be an obstacle withs so many people that were aware they were dating around? Wouldn’t Mina be hesitant in accepting his advances if she was there?

      Y/N laughed loudly at her own thoughts. Of course, Mina wouldn’t care. She’s been actively trying to ‘seduce’ Jisung since their not so unexpected encounter at the outdoor cinema two weeks prior. Still, she was confused. How possibly can she be of help in that situation?

      She unlocked her phone upon hearing the familiar ring and read the message.

[Jisung,22:54]Make her more jealous. The chances of her accepting my proposal are bigger if she sees me with you.

[Y/N,22:54]Okay, fine. Text me the address and I’ll be there.

      She locked her phone and placed it back on the coffee table. Her phone went off a little bit later indicating that he responded but she didn't care enough at the moment to check. Wrapping the blanket around herself again, she continued to watch the movie that wasn’t paused during her talk with Jisung.

      “Oh my God, I should have asked him for more details!” She screamed a few minutes later when the movie got particularly boring.

      The moment she stepped out of the elevator loud music invaded her eardrums. Even if Jisung wouldn’t have told her the number of the apartment, she would have been able to find it. The door was wide open, coloured lasers getting out of the room and falling on the carpet of the hallway. 

      Numerous people were scattered all over the hallway, drinks in hand and Y/N was wondering if the guy that was hosting the party was the only one who lived on that floor. How was no one disturbed by the vibrant music and chatter of the dozens of students?

      When she came close to the door of the apartment a strong smell of alcohol hit her nose and she felt her insides turn upside down. This wasn’t going to be a fun night for her at all. She could sense it.

      Stepping inside the apartment she was met with the faces of some people she knew visually from university but most people there were strangers. Checking her phone to see if Jisung responded to her message she exhaled angrily when she noticed that he hadn't even seen it yet. This was absolutely great. She was in a house full of horny drunk young adults with absolutely no one familiar around her.

      ‘I’ll take a look around until he responds.’ she thought to herself. Maybe that way she will be able to find someone she knew. If Jisung was there, his friends were most probably there as well.

      The apartment was fairly big for someone who was supposed to live alone. A big living room, a separate office, a big bathroom, a bedroom which she thankfully didn't manage to see, loud female moans alerting her to stay away if she didn’t want to see live porn, and a big kitchen. 

      Stepping inside the almost deserted kitchen, she leaned over the island and placed her elbows on the cold surface. She was scanning the drink choices the host had displayed on the counters and disappointedly noticed how none of them was missing alcohol from their ingredients.

      “Can I offer you a drink babe?” A voice suddenly whispered in her ear.

      Her eyes went wide and all her senses heightened. Y/N almost fell down when she abruptly turned around but the owner of the voice secured a strong arm around her waist. A cheerful laugh she knew far too well filled her ears and she angrily hit Hyunjins chest, who only started laughing harder at her action.

      “You scared the shit out of me, you asshole!” She yelled over the loud music wanting to get out of his grip but he didn’t allow her.

      “That was the whole point.” The man chirped happily, knowing that his little prank worked.

      Y/N rolled her eyes at his childish attitude and slightly pushed his chest. Looking away from him to hide her smile, her gaze fell upon the other two people in the room. Insistently staring at her, they were whispering between themselves. She recognised them as being from Jisung’s Major. Their eyes were burning holes into her head and she awkwardly got away from Hyunjin’s embrace. What was up with them?

      “Seriously now. Can I offer you a drink?”

      “I don’t drink.” Came her short answer that left the boy surprised.

      “I don’t want to sound rude, but why did you come then?”

      “Jisung invited me. Speaking of him, have you seen him around?”

      Hyunjin’s expression turned into an apologetic one before nodding his head. Y/N threw him a questioning look signalling him to continue and the man chewed on his bottom lip before letting out a long sigh.

      “He’s with Mina somewhere around here.” Y/N’s expression brightened involuntarily before quickly going back to a neutral one. 

      This must have been the reason the two boys were staring at her so insistently.

      “Oh.. Well then, do you want to talk?”

      “I really missed you! It was so lonely without you this past month.” Mina yelled over the loud music and Jisung swore he almost went deaf.

      He was currently leaning against a wall with Mina pressed against him. Her palms were pressed on the wall behind him, breasts pushed against his chest and one of her legs between his, teasingly close to his crotch. At that moment Jisung could think of only one word to describe her.

      Annoying.

      She was so annoying. He noticed this ever since they started texting again a couple of days ago. She was mean, self-centred and really vulgar. The jokes he used to laugh at were not funny anymore, seeming more like straight-up bullying. She was talking about herself so much. Every time he said something about himself she would brush it off and go back to talking about herself. And when reminiscing the ‘good old times’ she would bring up only their sex life.

      Looking back at the year and a half he has liked her, Jisung could not explain to himself why that happened. There was really no reason to like her platonically, let alone romantically.

      “Really?” He asked, trying to seem interested in whatever she was saying.

      “Aham. There wasn’t really anyone able to satisfy me the way you did.” She winked at him and Jisung held back a grimace.

      Was that supposed to make him feel flattered? He felt like it should have, but for some odd reason, he only felt disgusted by the information. Was she really incapable of having a conversation without mentioning sex at least once?

      Averting his eyes from her, Jisung’s gaze landed on the pair sitting on the couch for the nth time that night. Y/N was lying against the back of the couch and Hyunjin was leaning towards her, whispering things in her ear that made her giggle. Jisung couldn’t hear her, but he bet she sounded so cute at that moment. And all because of Hyunjin.

      For the past few weeks, he has been feeling really weird around Y/N. His stomach full of butterflies, face covered in pink, the desire to hold her hand and rage filling him every time he’ll see her with Hyunjin or Jeongin. And that was exactly what he was feeling at that moment.

      Jisung has recently accepted that he has a crush on the girl. He thought of it a few times before, but somehow his mind would wander back to Mina and he would dismiss such a possibility. However, at that moment looking at how Hyunjin was so close to her, he was certain about his feelings.

      As if they have talked about it beforehand, Hyunjin’s hands rested on Y/N’s thigh at the same time Mina pressed her knee against Jisung’s crotch and he felt something inside himself shift. Carefully pushing Mina away from him as to not hurt her and murmuring an apology he made his way to the couch. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He just knew he had to take her away from him.

      Y/N’s eyes looked up at him and a smile appeared on her lips. Hyunjin’s gaze followed hers and he retracted his hand from her leg upon laying his eyes on Jisung. He felt a small weight being lifted from his chest as Hyunjin’s hand left her body.

      “Y/N, can we talk?” He yelled over the music, making sure she hears him.

      Yes, that was a good idea. They were supposed to be a couple. There was nothing weird in wanting to talk.

      Her head fell to the side and her brow raised in confusion. Looking at Hyunjin, he gave her an awkward smile.

      “Sure. What is it?”

      “Not here. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

      She threw Hyunjin one last look before sighing and getting up from the couch. When Y/N got next to Jisung, he held her hand and intertwined their fingers together. The man was leading her out of the apartment. They walked down the hallway in silence until they reached the door at the end of the corridor. 

      Jisung pressed the handle pulling the door open and Y/N’s eyes widened in shock.

      “Jisung, wait! What are you doing?” She pulled his hand, stopping him from entering the apartment.

      “Don’t worry. I and Hyunjin live here as well. This is our apartment.”

      She calmed down at his words and let the man pull her inside. Once inside, she took a few steps away from the door looking at the way their apartment was furnished. Hearing the door close behind her with a small thud.

      “So...is this the part where you break up with me because you and Mina are so in love with each other?” She chuckled and turned to look at him but was met with serious eyes scanning her up and down.

      “Hey, is everything okay?”

      “Let’s date! For real this time.” He said in a pleading tone coming closer to her.

      Y/N’s eyes widened and she took a few steps back, startled by the man’s sudden demand. She studied his face for a few seconds looking for a sign, anything, to tell her he was joking but his expression remained unchanged. She gulped visibly and gathered her courage to speak.

      “W-what?” Y/N stumbled over her words letting her nervousness show.

      Jisung came closer to her, putting his hands on her arms, holding her in place. She didn’t back away this time, letting the boy come as close as he wanted.

      “Over the last few days, I realised that I don’t love Mina like I thought I did. I guess I was confused. She was the first girl that approached me when I entered university and immediately after we started hooking up regularly. I never interacted with other girls with the intention of dating them and I didn’t realise what a bad person she was. I don’t want to date her. I want to date you!”

      His eyes were staring into hers with a newfound sincerity. Y/N was taken aback by his words and didn’t know if she should believe him or not.

      Leaning her head towards him, she sniffed loudly making Jisung pull his head back, his brows furrowing in confusion.

      “What a-”

      “Are you drunk? I can’t smell alcohol coming from you though.” Y/N said inching her head even closer to his and taking another sniff.

      The man was dumbfounded by her question. This is not what he expected. 

      “I haven’t had alcohol in a month.”

      Her expression turned into one of realisation and a sympathetic smile appeared on her face. Jisung smiled back at her, relieved that she finally understood him.

      “Did Mina reject you? This is why you suddenly want to date me? Listen Jisung, I unders…”

      “Damn it, I love you Y/N!” He cut her off, cupping her face with his hands and pressing their lips together.

      His sudden confession made Y/N freeze. For a moment she lost sense of reality and couldn’t think straight.

      When she regained her composure she had the urge to push him away but as his tongue was exploring her mouth she found herself unable to. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and melted into the kiss, savouring his taste.

      Their lips were moving against each other in perfect unity and the kiss wasn’t too slow or too rushed. Jisung started walking, forcing Y/N to move backwards until they reached the living room. 

      Without breaking the kiss he crouched down and placed his hand on the back of her thighs. Taking the hint, she jumped lightly and let Jisung put her legs around his waist. Carrying her as if she weighed nothing, he walked into what she assumed was his bedroom and carefully placed her on the bed.

      Jisung broke the kiss, a single strand of saliva still connecting them. In a swift motion, he took off his hoodie revealing his surprisingly well-built body to her. Pushing her back against the mattress, he used one hand to prop himself up hovering over her and the other one snaked around her waist keeping her flush against him.

      Peppering light kisses from her ear to her jawline he let his teeth sink softly in her delicate skin. His mouth was sucking on the sensitive skin while the hand around her waist went further down, groping her cheek and squeezing.

      A gasp left her mouth at the stimulation and Jisung felt his shaft twitch inside the confines of his black jeans. Moving his hand from her arse to the front of her pants, he unbuttoned her pants and slid the zipper down with a quiet noise.

      Kissing and nibbling on her neck to distract her, Jisung slid his hand inside her pants brushing it over her clothed slit, not touching her properly yet. Y/N whined louder than he expected her to and bucked her hips up, connecting her heat with his hand.

      Smirking against her neck, he let his palm rub her, ripping a series of quiet moans from her. Getting his tongue out and leaving a wet trail from her neck to her ear, he bit her earlobe.

      “Want me to touch you, princess?” Whispering hoarsely into her ear, he moved her underwear to the side, tracing the outside of her heat.

      “Yes Jisung, please!” Her loud voice strained.

      Jisung hummed, satisfied with the response and connected his lips with hers again. The kiss was slow and passionate but his wounded lips were rough against hers.

      Hooking his thumbs in the hem of her panties, he slid them down taking her pants off at the same time. Letting his middle finger explore her pussy, he sank his teeth into her bottom lip softly when he felt how wet she already was. Sliding a single finger in with ease, Jisung started pumping it in a steady rhythm. 

      Adding another finger, shortly after he felt Y/N tighten around him and he twitched again at the thought of her pussy around his dick. He increased the speed of his fingers forcing her to moan louder. Soon the room was filled with moaning and squelching sounds.

      Breaking the kiss and licking his lips, he connected his nose to her skin dragging it down his body until it touched her pubic bone. The faint touch of his nose tickled her and she chuckled between breathy moans.

      Connecting his eyes with her pussy for the first time he felt his mouth water at how wet she was. Without losing any more time Jisung dove in placing an open-mouthed kiss on her clit. He groaned lowly against her slit sending vibrations through her body. Y/N whined and threw her head back at the unexpected stimulation, bucking her hips up against his face.

      Jisung was running his tongue through her labia, lapping at her sweetness while moving his fingers restlessly. He curled his fingers upwards inside her and flicked her clit with his tongue. 

      “F-fuck...Jisung!” She cried out fingers instantly tangling in his brown locks.

      Jisung took it as a sign to increase his speed, fingers curling up from time to time and tongue abusing her sensitive bud.

      Y/N felt the knot in her stomach become impossibly tight and she tried to no avail to push the man away from her. She finally felt the tension inside her unwind and a world wrecking orgasm hit her, a string of curses and moans erupting from her throat.

      Jisung continued to move his fingers inside her for a bit, helping her ride out her high. When Y/N calmed down he took his fingers out of her and watched in awe as her juices entirely coated them.

      Shoving his fingers inside his mouth and licking them clean, he got up from the bed and walked up to his desk. Opening the bottom drawer and rummaging through it he pulled out a silver package. 

      Y/N was watching him through hooded eyes still swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. On his way back to the bed he took the liberty to take the rest of his clothes off, remaining completely bare in front of him. Y/N gulped visibly when she noticed his cock standing tall against his abs, the tip slightly curved red and leaking precum. She squeezed her thighs together, the need to be filled again unbearable.

      Jisung climbed into the bed and captured her lips into a short kiss. Y/N could taste herself on his lips and she gasped.

      Ripping the package of the condom open he rolled it on his length. Jisung spread Y/N’s legs and forced them to wrap around his waist. 

      With one hand he was holding hers, fingers intertwined and squeezing lightly and the other one was on his cock holding it next to her opening. Jisung stared into her eyes to find any form of restrain and when he found none he pushed inside slowly.

      Both of them moaned loudly as he entered her, walls stretching around his rigid length. At that moment all Jisung could think about was how much more better Y/N felt around him than he imagined.

      A strand of light made its way between the light curtains in Jisung’s room and fell over the bed, tickling his arm where it touched it. A raspy hum left his mouth and he turned to face the other way from the window, throwing his arm on the other side of the bed with the intention to snake it around Y/N’s waist. The only problem was that she wasn’t on the other side of the bed and the sheets were cold, signalling that she was gone for at least some time.

      He lazily opened his eyes and scanned the room for any signs that she was around but there were none. Turning his head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand, big bolded numbers read 13:34. It was already afternoon. Maybe she got up and was in the kitchen or the living room.

      Groaning loudly, Jisung got up from the bed and stretched his stiff limbs. Dragging his feet against the floor lazily he made his way into the living room only to find it empty as well. 

      ‘Maybe in the kitchen.’ he thought to himself. Jisung walked the small distance between the living room and the kitchen, hope filling his heart, only for it to be gone when he found it the same way they left it the night before, not even a speck of dust moved from its previous position.

      Making his way to the table in the middle of the room, he placed his elbow on it and rested his head in his palm, an elongated sigh leaving his chest. Did Y/N really leave him? After everything that happened?

      Then, out of nowhere, something in his brain sparked and he remembered that Sundays she usually met up with Jeongin to practice the script. This must have been the reason she was not there. She wouldn’t leave him after what they did the previous night.

      Jisung’s face brightened at the memory of her underneath him. The way they loved each other with so much passion and desire. He could feel it. It wasn’t just plain fucking like he used to do with Mina. Last night he made love to her for the first time in his life. 

      An involuntary smile crept on his face. He could not believe it was real. Falling in love with someone that also likes you after so many failed attempts to find love. It felt almost too good to be true.

      As he was sitting there, fantasising about his relationship with Y/N, the apartment door swung open and a cheerful Hyunjin entered, humming a bright melody. Jisung ignored his roommate, too caught up in his daydreaming to care about his presence.

      When Hyunjin noticed Jisung sitting at the table his smile widened even more. With big steps, he reached the other man and pulled him into a chokehold ruffling his hair with his fist.

      “Jisung, you big tut! Really made me think that our friendship might be over.” Hyunjin chirped happily, letting the other man, who was struggling in his grasp, go. 

      “Yo, what the fuck? What are you talking about?” Jisung snapped at the taller man the moment he was free.

      “Why haven’t you told me that you and Y/N were just fake dating. I wouldn’t have given you such a hard time. But then again, I guess it made the whole thing more realistic.”

      Jisung stopped in his track at Hyunjin’s words and a confused expression adorned his face.

      “How do you know that?”

      “I met up with Y/N today. She told me everything before she confessed to me. Damn, and I wanted to be the on..”

      “Wait, slow down! What do you mean she confessed to you?” His eyes narrowed and suspicion was growing inside of him.

      Was Hyunjin lying to him? Did he want to tease him for having to resort to fake dating to try and win Mina? It was impossible for Y/N to have confessed to Hyunjin. She liked him.

      “Y/N confessed to me when we met today. She said that she liked me since last year but didn’t have the courage to come talk to me. Isn’t that crazy? How we both liked each other but never talked?” Hyunjin continued rambling on about his crush on Y/N but Jisung couldn’t hear him.

      All sorts of thoughts ran through his mind at the moment but he couldn’t organise them. Jisung could feel his heartbeat inside his head and a loud ringing in his left ear. He was so disoriented at that moment. Was it real? Did Y/N really confess to Hyunjin? He hoped that any moment now he would wake up next to her in his bed and discover that he was having a nightmare and that what was happening was not real.

      “If you stay and think about it, we wouldn’t be together now if it weren’t for you asking her to fake date. I should thank you, shouldn’t I?” The man chuckled but was soon cut off by Jisung, who grabbed him by the collar and harshly pushed him against the table.

      Hyunjin’s pupils were blown from the shock. Looking down at Jisung he noticed his darkened and angry gaze and he could not understand what caused that.

      “Don’t you thank me! Don't you ever give me credit for bringing you two together.” He yelled in the other man’s face.

      He paused for a moment to make holes through Hyunjin’s head with his eyes and clenched his jaw. Giving his roommate a last hard push that caused the table to move from its place, he turned around and stormed into his room slamming the door shut.

      Jisung’s blood was boiling. He didn’t know what to do at that moment to calm himself down. Y/N hadn’t left because she was busy with the movie. She left to meet with Hyunjin. Because she didn’t like him back.

      In a spurt of anger, he ripped the blanket from the bed throwing it on the other part of the room. Looking back at the bed, the place where he proved his love to her, he noticed a neatly folded paper resting in the middle of it. How hadn’t he noticed it earlier?

      He bent down to pick it up from the bed and carefully unfolded it to start reading what was written on it.

“Dear Jisung,

It’s me, Y/N, but you probably know that already. I’m writing you this because I won’t be here when you wake up.

What happened last night was a mistake on my part. Maybe ‘mistake’ is not exactly the right word to use. I don’t regret what happened between us last night. You are a nice and smart guy and I had a lot of fun with you the past few weeks, ignoring your fight with Hyunjin. This is why I feel like I took advantage of your feelings for me.

I don’t feel the same about you… I’m really sorry! I should have pushed you away when you kissed me. I don’t know why I didn’t. Probably because I haven’t had sex in so long. I feel like I gave you fake hope by doing that and I’m so sorry.

All this time, the whole fake dating thing was exactly that for me. Fake dating. If some of my actions made you think I might be returning your feelings, I’m really sorry! 

I did start liking you a lot in the past weeks but not in the way you would like me to… I really hope we can still be friends but if not, I would not blame you.

I’m really bad at this kind of things. I hope my feelings managed to reach you through this letter. See you at school on Monday if you still want to be friends.

Another thing. I’m going to confess to Hyunjin and tell him about our fake dating today. I was already scheduled to meet him today to talk about that since last night at the party. I felt like I should let you know.

And If I do end up dating him, like I want to, I hope you will be okay with that.

Take care of yourself!

Much love,

Y/N”

      Jisung lowered his hand and let it dangle next to his body. Letting the letter fall from his hand and hit the floor, a maniacal laugh left him.

      “Of course she doesn’t like me back. This is what I get for choosing an actress as my fake girlfriend. This was just another job for her.”

      In his mad chase to get Mina, he hasn’t realised that he was losing what was next to him. But maybe Y/N wasn’t ever his. After all, all the love and affection she showed him was fake. 

      And like a fool, he fell for her fake affection.

Taglist: @qxkwu , @hoodlesspizza, @avisahoe, @just-let-me-go-sweetheart, @hyunooh, @iluvlix, @hwangful​(send an  ✨ to be added to the Fake Affection taglist, even though there’s only the epilogue left.)

[jungxk]

crush

filed under. i totally forgot i wrote this. also i like the name eunmi sue me 

notes. thank you to @lonelyending for reading thru this crusty story and making me feel good enough about it again to post it. also @suga-kookiemonster bc im pretty sure i sent u this like a year ago and u told me to post it it but....i forgot abt it shdgjsgd. writing/life in general has been hard recently so pls accept this kookfic to hold yous over until i update just one

genre. fluff, light comedy, light angst, smut

warnings. smut (oral sex: f receiving, penetrative unprotected sex) 

length. 5.1k

the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow.

he hasn't been up for very long, and you don't even know he's looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he's starstruck. it's why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you're his wife.

"my," he can't even say the word. "my..."

"your wife," namjoon repeats. "you know what a wife is, right? marriage?"

"yes," jungkook huffs, digging his nails into his scalp. "i lost my memory, hyung, not my fucking brain cells." 

he suddenly registers the gold band glistening on his left hand, simple and heavy. he has to take a second to collect himself. "but...but i'm twenty-three. right? i am twenty-three, yeah?"

"yeah. you are," jimin says softly.

"then how the fuck am i already married? not that i'm complaining i just," he suddenly turns pink at the thought of you in a wedding dress, clinging onto his arm, breakfast dates, late night ramen runs at the convenience store, painting the living room in a house you probably share, naked in bed on top of him. jungkook clears his throat. "it just seems a little out of character for me. i can't commit to a pair of shoes for a week let alone-"

"i think it's best if you just spoke with ____," jimin finishes before jungkook can work himself into a frenzy, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. "you two need to talk anyway and it's best if all these answers came from her."

jungkook gulps at the thought of speaking to you, seeing you face to face. suddenly he's a cripplingly shy fourteen year old again.

"okay." he croaks. "okay."

x

x

x

you were even more beautiful up close.

your tear stained cheeks are glowing and blotchy when you perch on the chair beside his bed, big eyes fluttering up at him nervously. you're soft and plush and shorter than he thought and jungkook has to fist his hands in the sheets and play a counting game with the heart rate monitor in order to maintain eye contact. he feels himself start to sweat when you smile sadly at him. "sorry, i just...i don't know how to be around you normally without making you uncomfortable," you say quietly, wringing your hands together to avoid touching him.

"uncomfortable?" he queries, gaze latching onto the ring on your hand. seeing it on you gives him a nice feeling.

you nod into your lap. "yeah, um..." you look at your scuffed shoes, searching for the word. "we're usually very...touchy."

he can feel himself turning red again. "t-touchy?"

you meet his eyes and a pretty smile breaks over your face at how bashful he looks, making jungkook's cheeks tinge even pinker than they already are. you nod cutely so your earrings tinkle, eyes shining, and suddenly he understands without any context why he fell in love with you, why he married you so young. you let a comfortable silence settle over the room before taking a deep breath, bracing yourself. "how much do you remember, jungkook?"

he tries not to cave under the weight of his guilt. "not a lot about...you, that is," he finishes with a wince, your sad eyes immediately making him wilt with shame. "i remember everything up until a couple of years ago. we had a show at the japanese dome, debuted in america, and then...nothing. and now..."

"and now," you echo softly. your eyes look distant, staring at the floor.

"i'm sorry," jungkook whispers, chin touching his chest. "hyung told me...they all told me how much i loved you and...and i'm sorry i don't remember any of it. i'm so sorry."

you shake your head gently. "don't be sorry, jungkook-ah," the pet name makes his ears perk up. its a familiar, calming sound. "none of this is your fault. you didn't ask to get hit by that car." your expression turns remorseful, tugging at his heart. "if anything, this is because of me. the only reason you were out was because i asked you to go and get eggs and formula even though i should've remembered to pick some up on the way home and-"

"no, no! please don't blame yourself," jungkook tries, wishing he was close enough or even brave enough to take your hand. you look up at him and he catches a glimpse of the endless pool of love you harbour for him, like a punch to the chest. "i don't ever want you thinking this was your fault. so ple-" he pauses. "wait, formula?"

the door bursts open before he can finish, pitter patter steps rounding his bed until it reaches the other side, where you sit. a little girl with big dark eyes and curls of dark hair stares at him in wonder and elation, her cheeks dimpling just like yours before she screeches, "appa!"

jungkook's mouth goes dry. appa?

you're quick to intervene, putting yourself in the toddlers path to scoop her up in your arms. her grabby little hands struggle over your shoulder, fingers wriggling in attempt to get as close to jungkook as possible. he only stares with wide eyes and an open mouth, heart hammering in his chest when he sees the uncanny resemblances: his round nose. your brown skin but just a twinge fairer. his hooded eyes. and his stomach lurches.

"shhh, eunmi," you coo as you carry her away even with her squirming. "remember what i said before? appa is sick. appa is sick, baby-"

"we have a child?" jungkook wheezes, eyes starting to glaze over. there's a bout of silence when you look back at him guiltily, the baby's fumbling grinding to a halt when she registers the tension in the air. jungkook's breath is barely a whisper. "is that my daughter?"

your face crumples with a fresh bout of tears and eunmi looks on worriedly. she pushes her little lips into your cheek in a baby's kiss, like she's seen her father do so many times to get your attention. the word "amma," is muffled into your skin until you get yourself together and press a short kiss to her head.

yoongi rushes in, face twisted in apology. "i swear to god i turned around for one minute and-"

"it's okay, yoongi," you say quietly, stroking the baby's head. "eunmi, stay with uncle just a bit longer, okay? amma will be back in a minute..."

"appa," she whines over your shoulder, reaching for jungkook who sits helplessly in his bed. he watches with tears wetting his eyelashes, heart twisting in agony at the sight of his child he doesn't remember stretching her arms out for him. she begins to cry when he doesn't react or coo her. like he used to.

"take her, yoongi," you say shakily, passing the baby to him. the sound of eunmi's crying makes your heart shatter all over again, yoongi's quiet hushing doing nothing to qualm her sobbing as the heavy door closes behind them.

the silence that falls between the two of you is nothing short of excruciating. jungkook's head spins, completely overwhelmed: is that why you both got married so young? because of a child? was this why jimin and namjoon wouldn't say a damn thing about his life until he spoke to you first?

and then all the other questions that followed: was he a good father? when was his daughter's birthday? did she like kimchi and banana milk too? did he sing to her? read to her often?

would she ever forgive him for not being able to remember her?

"her name is eunmi," you say, looking down at the floor when jungkook starts to cry.

x

x

x

jungkook doesn't understand how his baby could be so pretty. she's golden brown like those sandy beaches on postcards, with chubby cheeks and twinkling dark eyes that resemble yours to a t, and that's when he realises of course she's beautiful. she's yours. you balance eunmi on your hip while you make coffee - decaf, since you're still weaning - and despite the amnesia jungkook feels like he's been here before, in this warm, happy place that is the kitchen.

"she got your nose though," you remind him, dumping the baby in his lap upon her fussing. she always seemed to wind down under his touch, and although nervous about the sudden responsibility of fatherhood, jungkook is compelled to give it. eunmi doesn't understand anything's changed so he doesn't see why he should act like it. "she's whiny before her milk too. like you."

"hey!" he retorts, but can't exactly defend himself. he twirls his fingers around her curly pigtails until she catches on and tries to stand on his thighs, reaching for his hair to yank. jungkook lets her. he's barely known his daughter a week and he's already so smitten he'd let her gut him open with a butter knife.

"she missed you, you know. when you were in hospital all this time," you say, making him look up to watch you stare into your drink. the fear still lingers in your eyes, faint and persistent. he can see it every time you look at him and it makes his body yearn to touch you like he once did, like he once would have before his brain unlearned everything his heart didn't. you laugh while watching eunmi pull his hair again, making him hiss. "even yoongi tried but no one coddles her as much as you."

"really?" he asks, face lighting up. he's so happy to hear that. jungkook hates the way the question bubbles up in the back of his throat, like it'd make a difference or it'd change how he felt. but he has to ask it. "is that why...is that why we got married so early, then?" he says, trying to sound as offhand as possible. "because of eunmi?"

you chew your lip. "yeah. i mean, you said it wasn't a big deal. because you were going to marry me eventually so it didn't make a difference, but...it doesn't really matter i guess, because that's not what everyone else thinks," you pause, tracing the rim of your mug again. "that's certainly not what your fans think."

jungkook doesn't even want to think about it. the backlash, the gossip, the name calling and dehumanisation. for the first time in his life jungkook couldn't give less of a shit about his reputation. "i'm sorry," he says, feeling like the word has lost meaning by now with how much he's said it. "i'm so sorry. not for this, for us or for eunmi. i don't regret any of that i just," he shifts the baby in his lap, still getting used to her weight. "i can only imagine what you went through."

you look a bit bewildered. "...you said that last time too." you smile again reassuringly. "please don't feel solely responsible, kook-ah. you didn't exactly get me pregnant on your own."

he flushes tomato red and you giggle at him until eunmi joins in too.

x

x

x

jungkook can't keep his eyes off you while you play with the baby, comb out her hair, sing her lullabies while you bathe her together. he'd always wanted a whirlwind romance as a teen and it looks like he finally got it, because he can feel himself fall head first in love with you (all over again). it didn’t make sense for someone to be so collected and easygoing after having motherhood forced onto you so abruptly. you tell him often that he's a picture-perfect dad, but jungkook still doubts he compares.

"does she need a change?" he asks, struggling to keep all of eunmi's wriggling limbs in his grip.

"nope, just hungry," you say, reaching out when he passes the baby to you. you're about to stand up and go to the guest room to feed her, but jungkook is already arranging the pillows next to him for you, grabbing a baby cloth on the side too.

"do you need another pillow?" he muses aloud, but he's already grabbing the ones on his side of the bed before you can answer, forming a wedge for you to sit nicely beside him. he looks up at you when you fail to move. "are you okay?"

"yeah i, um," you chew your lip nervously. "you don't...mind me feeding here?"

you immediately regret the question once it leaves your mouth. jungkook's crestfallen expression hits you right in the stomach, round eyes glittering up at you. he hasn't looked this upset since he woke up nearly a month ago. "why would i ever mind?”

"oh jungkook," you sniff, sitting beside him. he pulls you into the nest of pillows beside him, arm winding protectively around your shoulders. your eyes brim with sympathy tears, tired and angry and upset with treating him like a stranger.

"if i make you feel uncomfortable, i can go," he offers quietly. "if it makes you feel weird i understand..."

"no, not at all," you rush to stop him, suddenly realising how close you are. you could kiss his pink little lips if you just tilted your head up. "i just didn't want to make you feel weird. all this new stuff is happening to you, you're suddenly a husband and a father with no recollection of signing up or it and i just...i don't know how much you want to invest the second time around," you scramble to finish your sentence when he pins you with a concerned expression. “as in, i understand if you don’t want to make the same choice twice. it’s a big decision.”

he shakes his head dismissively. there wasn't a thing in the world that could make him turn his back on his family but it looked like you still needed convincing. he peers at you curiously when you position the baby. "so i can stay?"

you smile at him eagerly. "of course," you undo the nursing strap of your bra before the baby finally latches. "i actually prefer it when you're here. it makes me feel safe."

jungkook watches quietly while you hum for the baby, playing with her little hand while she drinks. the adoration seeps out of him in waves, how serene you look while you rock her, how angelic eunmi looks while she blinks her big doll eyes up at you both. she won't stay this little forever. he feels so overwhelmed by it, gathering you further in his arms with the urge to hold his family in his hands like a diamond. you don't question the little sniffles jungkook buries into your hair, resting your head on his shoulder wordlessly. you missed being held by him, missed his cotton scent and gentle breath.

"i love her so much," he whispers into the shell of your ear, entranced by the baby's little gurgles and gulps. he reaches out to run his knuckle over the velvet of her cheek, round and stuffed with milk. "i feel like i'll die, i love her so much."

"me too," you smile. "it was scary and hard for a long time but...i'm so glad we had her. i wouldn't trade her for anything."

you feel jungkook's lips trace your temple, heart stuttering upon the sudden contact. you hear what he doesn’t say: i wouldn't trade either of you.

x

x

x

"why are you so sweaty?" jimin scowls, noting the dark patches under jungkook's t-shirt when he tries to take the baby from his arms. "it's not even humid today."

jungkook doesn't do anything but gulp and cuddle a sleeping eunmi closer to his chest. she's become somewhat of a security blanket for him; even if she wasn't awake to play, he was always itching to hold her and nuzzle into her head when he's tense or embarrassed. like now.

"leave him alone, you know he sweats when he's shy," yoongi grins.

"stop it," jungkook mumbles.

"shy? what for?"

"because he's got a crush on his wife," namjoon snickers, knowing jungkook would whack him one if his arms weren't around his kid. "why are you looking at me like that? it's true!"

"but you can't just say it! she'll hear!" he hisses.

"you're married," jimin deadpans but it only makes the younger boy curl in on his baby more. "god, this reminds of when you two met. remember how he used to hide behind manager hyung every time ____ came in? and then i had to listen to them fuck in the next room for a year only to end up back here all over again-"

"jungkook," you call. "where did these come from?" you walk into the sitting room with a bouquet of yellow roses nestled in your arms. "did a fan send them? i didn't see a note they were just on the worktop-"

"th-those are for you," he mumbles. "i got those for you."

you look so pretty when you stare it makes him sweat harder and the three older boys all but burst a vein in their head trying not to laugh when leaving the room. there's an awkward silence where you clutch the flowers and he clutches the baby. "thank you," you say finally. "they're beautiful, i love the colour yellow..."

his big doe eyes round up to look at you even though the lower half of his face is smushed into pigtails. "you're welcome."

"can i kiss you?" you blurt out, too fast to stop it. your cheeks are still stinging and you're pretty sure you have baby powder in your hair but jungkook looks at you with awe as he nods so vigorously his earrings shake.

so you do, leaning over the arm of the sofa to press your mouth over his long enough for both your breaths to catch. you pull away, moving to sit next to him so his free arm can wind around your shoulders when you kiss him again. "please," he mumbles when you part. "please don't ask to kiss me. just do it," he leans for another long, warm kiss that leaves you light headed. "stop tip-toeing around me, okay? we're married. i know i scare easy, but not that easy."

you feel giddy, finally feeling the weight being lifted piece by piece. "okay," you peck his mole endearingly before scooting up for another kiss. "i missed this."

"me too," he hums into your mouth. "it feels like the first time but also...not the first time, you know? not just because i don't remember but like," he doesn't know how to say it, wetting his lips thoughtfully. your chapstick is cherry flavoured, his favourite. "like we've been doing this for longer than both of us even realise. longer than this life."

"i know," you nod. "i know."

x

x

x

after a while, you forgot about jungkook's amnesia altogether. even though the chances of him making a full recovery were slim, it all felt so normal and back to routine, all the kissing and the cuddling and the playing with eunmi. there was almost no room for trepidation anymore. until now.

you moan into jungkook's mouth when he pulls you onto his thighs, big hands palming your ass when you grind into him. he's only mildly concerned that he'll cum in his pants at this rate but he doesn't fret too much: that was secondary to undressing you and touching you and pleasing you and making you scream as loud as he could make you without waking the baby. he has nearly three years of re-learning your body to catch up on and he's eager to start.

he's quickly reminded during this process that you are a master. you know exactly where to kiss him, exactly how much pressure to kneed into his cock with your hips, exactly how much tongue he wants in his mouth until he's whining and damp for you. of course you know his body like the back of your hand - your child wasn't conceived from thin air. it makes him all the more desperate to learn, almost antsy to get his mouth and hands on you until you're writhing and breathless beneath him.

you gasp when you feel his hand slip between your legs, rubbing his fingers over your shorts. you automatically rock your covered wetness into his touch, the long whimper you muffle into his neck sending jungkook soaring through the clouds with pride. you're so lost in the feeling, having missed it so much, you're barely able to squeak a stop! when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your panties.

his eyes shoot open. "what's wrong?"

"j-jungkook," you shuffle in his grip, feeling so embarrassed under his scrutiny you don't know where to look. "it's not that i want you to stop but. listen, just," you cling to his shoulders, shivering when his hands drag reassuringly up to your waist. "just remember that...i've had a kid, okay? i'm not gonna look like before."

he blinks. "i don't remember what you looked like before."

"no, i mean like," you lick your lips, tasting him there. "it's still something to keep in mind. i'm not gonna be as smooth and perky in places like all those idol girls you perform next to, so just-" he watches you fumble nervously in his lap, the growing disbelief making him blink. "don't expect too much okay? things might not look the way you imagine them to and i don't want you to feel-"

"stop," he cuts off, tugging you so you're seated over his erection again. the look jungkook pins you with is so intense you can feel your pulse thrum in your ears, the harsh rise and fall of his chest making him appear that much more passionate. "this body," he slips his hands up your top, palming your skin. "made my child. i take offence to it being spoken about with anything less than admiration, even by you."

"kook-ah," you say nervously, but still let him remove your pj top over your head before you laying you under him on the bed. you don't know why your eyes suddenly prick with tears when he traces over your stretch marks and discoloured skin with his smooth lips. "this kept my daughter warm," he kisses under your navel, sliding up to your heavy breasts. he kisses each darkened nipple, swollen from the baby's mouth. "these feed her." he rises further still, before planting his mouth on your forehead in a short peck. "and this raises her. so how can i be anything but proud to touch you?"

"jungkook, stop," you sniff, tears wetting your lashes. your eyes fall shut when he wipes them away with his thumb, lips ghosting over your cheeks and nose.

"what did i say about tip-toeing around me?" he whispers, forcing you to look him in the eye. only then do you see the tears there, all the ardour and respect he holds for you pooling in those brown depths. "i'm your husband. let me be your husband."

you kiss him before you can start crying again, letting him part your mouth and taste you long and hard before finally undressing himself and slipping your shorts off. this is all a first for him, and it's been so long since you've done this it's almost like a first for you too, frantic and messy and desperate to feel jungkook lodged inside you where he belongs. you know he must share the sentiment when he splits your thighs over the narrow of his hips, hooking them there while he gets a good look of his erection rubbing through your slick.

no wonder i knocked her up, jungkook muses faintly. i don't think i can ever stop doing this.

"jungkook, please," you run a hand through his hair, grinding against his cock in encouragement but he still won't take the plunge. instead, your voice reminds him of his initial objective, causing him to saunter down between your legs faster than you can process. he's licking into you before you can have a second thought about it, mouth falling open with a loud moan when he traces around your clit in firm circles.

he has your knees over his shoulders and his arms wound around your hips so you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but buck into his attentive mouth, jungkook's groans vibrating against you until you can barely keep yourself together - he's always enjoyed this as much as you have. which is why he takes his time, explores every crevice and subsequent response, relishing in the gush of wetness when he does something right. he even goes as far as holding his tongue stagnant against your folds so you have no choice but to rub yourself into him for friction, so entranced he is by your invigorating reactions. only when you're squirming and whimpering with deliriousness does he finally give in and resume a steady pace over your swollen clit, two fingers sliding in home so you have something to come around. and you do.

messy and wet and shrieking into the pillow by your head so that you're muffled enough to not wake the baby down the hall, your orgasm drawing out longer than normal as you do your best to ride it out. jungkook carries you through it, gulping down as much of your arousal as he can manage until your hips finally drop back into the bed in post-climax exhaustion. on the contrary, the only reason he stops lapping at you is because you tug him away by the hair, bringing him up to you and between your legs again before he can do anything about it.

he splutters with a moan at the sudden contact of your wetness against his cock again, eyes fluttering shut and allowing you to bring him in, arms and legs winding securely around him so that you're flush against each other, hips rocking in tandem. jungkook is so caught up in the feeling - not the sex but the safety of being held, being connected like this - that you're the one to reach down and position his tip against your hot center, before finally running your hands down your husband's back to cup his ass and shove him into you.

jungkook gasps, breath shaking at how tight you are. you're so hot, so snug around him his eyes shut upon instinct, letting your hands guide his hips and showing him how to move in that perfect rolling motion that you're only familiar with after years of practice. and jungkook, of course, is a fast learner. it doesn't take long for him to take the reigns and fuck you just how you like it, adding in a sharp snap of his hips every now and again just to listen to you squeak in surprise. the wet sounds of your joined arousal coupled with you moaning under him is near cathartic, sending him hurtling to his finish line.

but before he can get there you shift him over, thick thighs helping you roll and pin him under you on the bed. jungkook grapples at your waist when you resume a slower but harder rock of your hips that has his length grinding against your clenching walls, his head thrown back at the intensity of it. you ride him through it, peppering the moles on his pretty neck with kisses and sucks, mouth finding his stiff little nipple to give it a swirl too. it's exactly what he needs to finish off, fingers digging into your flesh as he bucks wildly, filling you full of his seed while he calls your name. you slow to a stop when his hands finally fall limp on your thighs, his chest heaving under you and covered in sweat. you giggle. he always got so sweaty.

"you did so well, kookie," you whisper, kissing his damp neck and collar bones. his arms are suddenly around you again for comfort. "you were so good for me...always so good to me..."

"you," he croaks finally, eyes half lidded and a little delirious. "you didn't finish?"

you giggle at his genuine concern, pecking his wet lips. "i got mine, remember?"

"how many times?" jungkook is suddenly alert, tugging your wrist to get your attention before you can climb off him. his other hand is still around your middle so moving was out of the question until he allowed it. he was still inside you. "how many times do i usually make you come?"

you blink in embarrassment. you never really thought about it, let alone counted. "um...i don't know..." he waits for an answer, awfully serious about it. "a-at least two or three, i guess."

you yelp when he flips you back over, fingers immediately prying your cum soaked folds apart to nestle inside. "then don't act like we're done."

[ayellowcurtain]

Can you write a Sobbe fic of Friends with benefits but then becoming lovers with both fluff and angst

sander gets a really good job offer and moves away and robbe and sander meet again a few years later

Robbe walks away from everyone, trying to keep his tears to himself, swallowing all the words he thinks about saying, how it's the worst time to put them out.

He had years to tell Sander how much he means to him but this is definitely not the time. It’s nobody else’s fault but his to decide to listen to his feelings now. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, and Robbe should have known he wasn’t fitted for the friends with benefits type of thing. Months ago he noticed himself constantly getting lost in Sander’s eyes, enjoying way too much the cuddles they had after every night together, the way Sander made him laugh with his dumb jokes or cocky comments, how Sander made him happy, and how his hugs were always the one Robbe was in desperate need of.

He knew he shouldn’t be considerating so much to make his decisions to go or not to parties, depending so much on texts from Sander, answering if he was going too or if he was too busy with college or going somewhere else for the night.

He would only ruin the exciting mood, Sander’s happiness to be moving out of his parents’ place, finally, to work at a company he always only dreamed of working in. Robbe will miss him desperately and that part he managed to tell Sander last night, when he could still lie on his chest, smell him and feel his heart beating fast against Robbe’s ear, his hand, the long fingers resting on his hair, running his fingers through Robbe’s hair, stopping when he heard Robbe’s words, making him wonder if he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Please, Robbe, come see me. I’ll pay for your plane tickets. It’s not because I’m in another country that you can’t run away from everyone else to hide with me. Never be afraid to call me, I’ll pick you up from any airport, ever.”

Was the answer that he got, making him laugh so he wouldn’t cry, grab Sander tightly and beg him to stay.

Everyone they know is here, which is odd, how both their friends group sort of blended together in the past few months while Robbe was falling in love, so they can’t even kiss, and hug for long minutes and cry while whispering their goodbyes.

Sander’s eyes constantly on him got a little too much and Robbe just needed to walk his feelings out. He puts his hands inside his pockets, carefully holding the small piece of paper he’s been carrying for hours now, unable to decide if he should give it to Sander before he goes or not. He wasn’t even sure if he should write it, walking around his bedroom before leaving to the airport for at least five minutes, twirling the pen in between his fingers. He decided to write it and take it with him, leaving to make a decision at the very last possible moment.

At least Sander would know. It’s selfish and plain stupid, but at least a part of the weight would be lifted off of his shoulders because Sander would know. And Robbe would only have to wait for an answer, hopefully. He won’t feel as guilty for saying it after Sander is gone because it would be done. Sander would be starting his new life and the acknowledge of Robbe’s feelings wouldn’t make him change his mind about staying or going. Robbe can’t ruin Sander’s best job opportunity ever for a stupid romance.

I love you so much it’s painful to think about how it’ll be without you close. Don’t worry about me. I hope you love your job, really. I’ll miss you, and I’ll wait impatiently for every holiday to see you back home.

Robbe turns back around once his selfish feelings are tamed back inside of him, ready to meet all his friends again, and he bumps into Sander right behind him, taking his hands off his pockets, almost letting the piece of paper fall out.

“Where are you going?” He asks and Sander looks around like it’s obvious.

“Was going after you and then you changed your course suddenly.” Sander snorts and Robbe smiles, holding the paper again, not sure if he’ll get another opportunity as good as this one, “Robbe…”

“Here.” He takes the folded paper out of his pocket, offering to Sander, looking at it, knowing very well how desperate and open he is in those few lines, “But you can’t open now, just when you’re inside the airplane, or settled at your new place, just not here.”

Sander looks down at the paper, holding just the corner gently, still letting Robbe hold on to it if he wants but he lets Sander finally have it, “This is so mean of you…”

“Sorry.” Robbe smiles more honestly, watching Sander’s fingers hold the piece of paper like it’s finally his, putting inside the pocket of his black jean jacket.

“I have something for you too.” Sander holds his jacket with one hand, the other searching for  something on the secret pocket inside his jacket, finding a thick white envelope that’s folded in half, “I had some miles to use with the airline so it’s yours.”

“No…” Robbe whispers, thinking about how he just got himself in some trouble. He wrote all those things thinking they wouldn’t see each other for a while. He doesn’t know what he’ll do once he sees Sander for the first time after giving him that paper with parts of his feelings written on it like it’s shameful proof against himself.

“There’s no date because I know you’ll get busy with your finals and stuff but at least you can come, whenever you feel like it.”

Robbe opens the envelope anyway, seeing some papers with the airline name and his and he can’t believe Sander actually did this.

“You’ll have to tell me when I can go, I don’t want to get there and-”

“See me with someone else?” Sander lifts his eyebrows, clearly thinking it’s funny but it makes Robbe emotional again, thinking of how easier it would be for Sander to let him and their memories together go if he’s not seeing the other person, talking to them, touching them...

“And mess up your routine.”

“I don’t plan on being with anyone anyway. You can come whenever you want but I’ll tell you if it makes it easier for you to come to see me.”

“Thank you.”

They stand there, in silence, probably looking so suspicious to all their friends with nobody to say goodbye to since Sander is busy with Robbe. Sander is staring at him, and Robbe finds some comfort in that, even though he can barely look back, afraid Sander will be able to tell just by looking into his eyes how much Robbe wants to ask for him to stay.

“I wish I could kiss you right now.”

Robbe sees his feet moving closer and he looks up, scared he might do it, “Sander.”

Sander stops on his track, putting both his hands in his pockets, sighing annoyed.

“I know. Won’t kiss you.”

Robbe tilts his head, trying to keep himself from wishing they could just do it. Sander was the one that wanted this to be a casual thing at first. And Robbe couldn’t agree more.

He couldn’t deal with any of the things that being with a guy could bring him. Serious conversations with his mom and dad, he didn’t feel like doing that back then, actually coming out.

It was an easy agreement and somehow, after over a year since that first night,  they ended up like this: so tangled together it’s hard to know which strings to cut, the ones that keep them together, now that one is moving away.

[freddie-weaselbee]

A Whole New World//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, symptoms of depression, mentions of depression, minor character death (only mentioned), language, honestly it’s really cute once you get into it trust me

Summary: “Do you trust me?” After constantly pestering Y/N and finally making her explode with anger, Fred decides to try to make her smile again, in the most extravagant way possible. 

Word Count: 4.4k

Song: A Whole New World from Aladdin

A/N: Apparently I’m a sucker for the astronomy tower I didn’t even realize until I wrote this that it takes place in the same place as my last fic, but oh well. Also I would literally sell my soul to be able to reenact this with someone, preferably Fred. Also also I’m making a taglist so message me if you wanna be on it!

The astronomy tower was one of your favorite places to visit when you were upset. Something about the way the infinite number of stars continued to shine down made you feel more at peace. It made you believe that maybe there was a plan for everything, and it would all work out eventually. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend most of your recent nights watching the sky glimmer with specks of light. The past few months had been hard on you, and you felt an increasing need to escape as much as you could. Your friends noticed, but they didn’t know how to help. You were usually so upbeat and happy, always helping others rather than being vulnerable enough to admit that you needed some help yourself. Which is why you would spend hours each night, alone with your thoughts and dejection. 

Tears rolled down your eyes as the events of the day came back to you. 

It took everything you had just to get out of bed. Your dorm mate had tried to wake you up several times, but she eventually gave up and allowed you to rest a little longer. You rolled onto your side and stared at a picture that was hanging on the wall. It was a family picture from years ago, when you were just a little gap toothed girl. Your mom was holding you in her arms and your dad had his arm wrapped around your mom’s shoulder. There was only one other person in the picture, but it hurt your heart too much to look at the old man smiling down at little you. 

After letting a few tears lose, you decided to start your day a couple hours late. You had a Potions exam that you needed to do well on, or else your dreams of becoming a Healer would be a lot harder to achieve. 

You rolled out of bed and put on your uniform followed by fixing your hair and putting on some light makeup. You used to put a decent amount of effort into how you looked, wanting to practice your eyeliner skills and try out new hairstyles. But recently it just seemed like too much work for no reward. The bags under your eyes remained visible as you walked to your Potions class. 

The day didn’t get better. 

You skipped lunch and decided to take a nap instead. You curled up in your bed and shut your eyes tight, trying to calm the anxiety that was racing through your body. Your mind began to wander and you started wondering what your friends were doing at the moment, and if you were missing out on something fun. You wanted to join them and be a part of whatever was happening, but you just didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. It wasn’t until you were forced to get up for your next class that you left the silence of your room. 

Transfiguration was a class you had with most of your friends, which made it difficult for you to avoid questioning. 

“Y/N, where were you during lunch today?” your friend asked. She seemed concerned, but didn’t know what to say to the sulking mess who was usually so lively and energetic. 

You shrugged and gave a forced smile. “Just tired, didn’t get much sleep last night.”

She nodded, not believing you but figuring that you weren’t going to tell her the truth any time soon. 

You turned your attention to McGonagall’s lecture, but you were distracted almost immediately with a balled up piece of paper that landed on your lap. You looked around the room before making eye contact with Fred Weasley, who gestured for you to open the note. 

You did and scoffed at the message scrawled in messy handwriting. 

‘Hey love, you’re looking a little glum today. How about spending the night in my dorm and we’ll see if I can make you feel better? ;)’

Normally you would’ve playfully flirted back with the ginger troublemaker, but you weren’t in the mood today. You hadn’t been in the mood in months. 

Shaking your head you crumpled up the paper and let it fall to the ground. It wasn’t long before another one landed on your desk. 

You rolled your eyes and you opened this one. 

‘C’mon, don’t be so grumpy. You know you want me.’

This letter you ripped up, letting the scraps dramatically spill all around you. If there was one thing Fred wasn’t good at, it was reading the room. You just wanted to focus on the lesson and spend the rest of your night alone in your dorm. 

A third letter hit you in the back of your head. You almost turned around and screamed at Fred, but instead you picked up the note and sat in on your desk. You didn’t want to give Fred the satisfaction of opening the letter, but your curiosity got the best of you. And of course with your luck it all blew up in your face. Literally. 

A small explosion came from the letter the second you opened to read it, painting your face a scorched black and singeing the ends of your hair. You didn’t even have time to react before you were being yelled at by your favorite teacher. 

“Miss Y/L/N!” McGonagall was glaring at you down the bridge of her nose, giving you a look that she only reserved for the worst troublemakers. It made you feel like shit. “Detention, tomorrow night for disrupting my lesson. Please keep your antics to yourself next time.”

“But professor--” She interrupted you by putting her hand up. 

“Don’t argue, Miss Y/L/N. Tomorrow night.” 

Your face fell and you buried your head in your hands, trying to hold back sobs that were rising in your throat. As class ended you gathered your things and practically sprinted out of the room, ignoring the cries from your friend. 

You didn’t get too far before you were spun around by large hands that gripped your shoulders. Fred was towering over you, a proud grin spreading across his face as if he had just won the lottery. 

“You should’ve seen your face, darling, absolutely priceless.”

He reluctantly let go of you as you struggled in his hold, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “I don’t want to talk to you right now Fred, I just want to go to my room.”

“You’re in your room all the time!” he exclaimed. He wasn’t wrong. “Just lighten up a little and take a joke.”

You sighed and began to walk back to your dorm, ignoring his complaints. 

“C’mon, Y/N, who died and made you all depressed?”

That was it. 

You spun around and came storming back toward Fred, who now looked as though he regretted ever saying anything. “Do you really want to know Fred? Do you really feel the need to relentlessly bother me when it’s painfully obvious that I don’t want to talk to you?”

You had backed him into a wall and he was holding his hands up in defense. 

“Today has been awful. I could barely get out of bed this morning, and the only reason I did was because I had a Potions test, which I likely failed! I have no motivation to do anything, which means I go to my room and miss out on everything fun, which only makes me more upset.”

Tears were streaming down your face as you screamed at Fred, all of your pent up anger finally coming out. 

“And not that it’s any of your business, Frederick--” you poked his chest as you said his full name, something you only did when you were mad at him, “--but my grandpa died and made me all depressed. Three weeks ago. And I’ve felt like absolute shit ever since. So please, for the love of Godric just leave me alone for two fucking minutes!”

Fred’s face was adorned with a shocked expression, which softened immediately. You hadn’t told anyone about your grandpa, not wanting to deal with pitiful glances being thrown your way. Fred had no idea that you were going through so much, and seeing you finally break because of him broke his heart. 

But you didn’t give him any time to respond before you turned on your heel and marched back to your room, feeling worse than you had ever felt in your life. 

You knew it wasn’t Fred’s fault. You had chosen not to tell anyone about what you were going through, and you assumed he was only trying to lighten your spirits. However with everything that had been going on you needed some time to think and deal with your emotions on your own. It was the only way you knew how. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone behind you clearing their throat. You turned your head to see the outline of a tall ginger boy, standing at the top of the astronomy tower stairs. 

“What do you want Fred?” Your voice cracked as you spoke and you quickly turned to stare at the sky again, hoping your friend wouldn’t be able to see how upset you were. 

When you didn’t hear a response you spared another glance behind you, but Fred was gone. You stood up and looked around. Surely he wouldn’t just appear out of nowhere and then disappear seconds later. You leaned against the railing of the tower, the only thing separating you from the endless night sky. 

A scream erupted from your throat as something rose up to face you, hovering in the air. Fred was standing eye level with you, but he was...floating? 

“How are you…”

You looked over the edge and gasped at the sight before you. Fred was standing on a large carpet that he must’ve snagged from the Gryffindor common room. From the looks of it, it had been enchanted to fly and it was doing a fine job of fulfilling its duties. 

Fred laughed at your surprised expression as he reached a hand out. You stepped back, still wanting to be alone for the time being. But maybe you had been alone for long enough. 

“What is this Fred? What’s going on?” 

He didn’t respond, but rather moved closer and stretched his hand out a little farther. “Do you trust me?”

The whole scene reminded you of your favorite movie, which had just come out last year. You remembered watching Aladdin with your grandpa, memorizing every song and occasionally singing or humming the lyrics once you returned to Hogwarts. There was no way Fred’s actions were coincidental, he had to have planned this. 

No matter how upset you were, you weren’t going to give up the chance to reenact one of your favorite movie scenes, so with hesitation you grabbed his hand and wobbled onto the magic carpet that was hovering hundreds of feet in the air. 

“You ready, love?” Fred’s voice was calm and soothing, so unlike his normal persona. You gave him a tiny smile and nodded, holding onto the tassels of the rug for dear life.

Fred nodded back and scooted closer to you. “Hold on tight princess.” You grabbed his right arm and squeezed, letting him know you were ready to go.

With a flick of his wand the carpet took off and you were suddenly flying through the cool night air at racing speeds. You’d ridden on a broom before but this was something completely different. This time didn’t have to worry about working your core to stay on or try to ignore the uncomfortable position you were in. With this, you could just breathe and take in the moment. 

Fred looked over at you and grinned as he saw your amazed face. You closed your eyes and put your hands out, letting yourself be overcome with the feeling of soaring through the air. Without warning the carpet jerked to one side, causing you to scream and grip back onto Fred’s arm. 

“What was that for?” you exclaimed. He laughed and tried to pry your arms off of him, choosing to wrap his arm around your shoulder instead. 

“Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Now are you ready?”

You looked at him quizzically, wondering what else he could have in store for you. Fred cleared his throat and you saw a small blush appear on his face. He took in a deep breath and did something you never expected Fred Weasley to do. 

He started singing. 

“I can show you the world, shining shimmering--why are you laughing at me?!” You were bent over into his chest, heaving with laughter at his display. It’s not that he was a bad singer, on the contrary in fact. But you had definitely not expected him to start singing A Whole New World while you were flying across the Hogwarts grounds on a literal magic carpet. 

“I’m--I’m s-sorry Freddie,” you choked out through laughs, “it’s v-very nice. Fantastic job!”

He could hear the sarcasm dripping from your voice and he put on a faux glare. “Y/N, I did not listen to you sing this bloody song every single day and memorize all of the words simply from paying attention to your voice for you to not be my Jasmine and sing back.” He crossed his arms and huffed and your giggles slowly died down. 

You felt a blush appear on your face as you realized how much effort he had put into this. Memorizing the entire song from only your humming and occasional lyrics? The least you could do was humor the boy. 

“Fine,” you said playfully, rolling your eyes, “go ahead again. I promise I won’t laugh.”

He gave you an unbelieving look. 

“I promise I won’t laugh a lot.”

Fred nodded and cleared his throat once again. “I can show you the world, shining shimmering splendid!”

He cupped your chin in his hand and gave you a wink. “Tell me princess, now when did you last let your heart decide.”

The carpet dipped and you screamed as the two of you soared downwards before leveling out again. 

“I can open your eyes,” he began once again. “Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways and under--” as he sang each word the carpet twisted to perform the respective move, “on a magic carpet ride. A whole new world!”

He sat on his knees and spread his arms to the sky, screaming the lyrics and letting the wind whip his ginger hair around his face. Although you were speeding through the clouds and any wrong move would likely end in you falling to your death, all you could focus on was him. 

“A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we’re only dreaming…” Fred was looking back at you, holding his hands in yours. He leaned in to you and you sucked in a breath, leaning toward him as well. But what you had been assuming would happen did not, and Fred leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“That’s your cue, love.” It took you a second to realize what he was saying but when you did you nodded fervently, hoping Fred didn’t notice you mistaking his actions for an attempt at a kiss. Before you could overthink everything and make it even more awkward you sat up and belted out your lines. 

“A whole new world! A dazzling place I never knew.” You moved toward the front of the carpet and Fred grabbed your waist holding you up as you spread your arms and stared at the endless sky. “But when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear, that now I’m in a whole new world…”

You hesitated before saying the next two words, suddenly very aware of the tight grip Fred’s rough hands had on your waist. “With you…”

You turned your head to see Fred beaming at you, and he moved you back so the two of you were once again sitting side by side. You sang the next verse as the two of you flew over the Forbidden Forest. The terrifying collection of dark trees and plants now seemed so small, so miniscule when you were soaring over it instead of walking through it. 

It was almost time for the duet portion of the song, but before you could start you were cut off by Fred’s finger on your lips. “Alright, love, now we switch. I want to be Jasmine!”

You giggled at the child that was Fred Weasley, but it was his kiddish behavior that always drew you to him. “Well you have the body for it,” you teased, poking his stomach. He poked you back and it made you flinch, seeing as how he hit a ticklish spot. His eyes widened when he realized the opportunity he had, and his fingers attacked your sides while both of you tried to sing your new parts. 

“A whole new world--”

“Don’t you dare close your eyes.” He covered his eyes as you sang this for effect and you had to use all of your strength to remove his hands from his face, which ended with you intertwining your fingers in his. 

“A hundred thousand things to see--”

“Hold your breath it gets better.”

Fred finally halted his tickling as he belted his next line straight into your ear. “I’m like a shooting star, I’ve come so far, I can’t go back to where I used to be…”

You threw your legs over his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as the two of you giggled like schoolchildren. Something about laughing with Fred always made you feel carefree and young. Like you didn’t constantly have the entire world dragging you down. It was intoxicating. 

You ruffled his hair and screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs. “A whole new world!”

Fred saw this as a competition, and he decided he just had to one up you in noise. “Every turn a surprise!”

“With new horizons to pursue!”

“Every moment red letter!”

At this point both of you were shouting as loud as you possibly could, so loud that you knew at least someone on the Hogwarts grounds would be able to hear you, but neither of you cared. He took his other hand in yours as you screeched the next words simultaneously. 

“I’ll chase them everywhere, there’s time to spare, let me share this whole new world with you!” Fred steered the carpet downwards to a grove that you had never noticed before. He swept through the trees and swiftly grabbed an apple from a tree above before tossing it to you. It was something straight out of the movie and you had to wonder how in the world he had this so well prepared. 

He pulled you in tighter by the waist and started to sing again, transitioning back to Aladdin’s part. His voice was much softer than it had been before, almost sweet and loving. “A whole new world…”

You lowered your voice to match his. “A whole new world…”

“That’s where we’ll be…”

“That’s where we’ll be…” You could tell that Fred was maneuvering the two of you back toward the grand Hogwarts castle but you didn’t want this moment to end so soon. 

His thumb brushed your cheek. “A thrilling chase…”

Your hand moved to his chest, feeling his toned muscles underneath his infamous Weasley jumper. “A wondrous place…”

“For you and me…”

You stared into each other’s eyes, holding each other tightly and letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding as you finally finished the song. Neither of you said a word as Fred guided the carpet back to the astronomy tower and helped you down onto the floor. You slipped and fell into his chest, but he was quick to steady you and hold you tight in his arms. 

Your eyes wandered up the tall redhead’s body, illuminated by the dim glow of the night stars. “What...what in the world was that?” you asked incredulously. 

Fred only laughed and pulled you to sit down next to him, legs dangling off the side of the tower. “I guess that was my way of apologizing.”

“Not even an actual ‘I’m sorry’ is good enough for you Weasley?” you teased, making Fred give you a guilty look. 

“I am really sorry, Y/N. I...I had no idea what was happening, and I was just getting tired of not seeing you ever. I guess I thought you were avoiding me and I wanted to get your attention, even if that meant being a complete arse.” His guilty look only grew as he confessed the reasoning behind his actions. “I’m really sorry, love. But I want you to know that I’m always here for you. You don’t have to go through things alone.”

You sighed heavily and leaned your head against his shoulder. His arm found its familiar place around your shoulder and you shuffled so that you were closer to him. 

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. I don’t want people to pity me, or to think that I should try to get over it. I don’t want everyone to say that I should stop feeling like this when there are so many people that have it so much worse.” Your voice shook with every word that poured out of your mouth. You had never told anyone that before, always keeping your burdens to yourself and burying them deep inside. 

Fred grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and brought you into a hug, letting you sob quietly into his chest. “Darling, you should never feel as though your feelings aren’t valid. You have every right to be upset, and I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me.” 

You hummed into his jumper, taking in the scent of cinnamon and gunpowder. It had grown to become one of your favorite smells. “You know, that movie was one of my grandpa’s favorites.”

Fred nodded but stayed quiet, trying to hide his joy that you were finally opening up to someone. 

“We watched it nonstop last summer. He told me he loved princess Jasmine. Said she had spunk, just like--” your voice hitched in your throat, “--just like me.”

Your best friend began stroking your hair softly, occasionally twirling a strand in his long fingers. “I didn’t know,” he finally said. “I just knew you loved the movie, and I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it.”

You gave a small laugh at his words and he tilted your chin up so that you could see the concern in his eyes. “Hey, I’m serious. I love you, Y/N. You’re...you’re a great friend.”

The warm feeling inside your chest that had begun when Fred started talking had suddenly died down. You were friends. Just a great friend of his. 

“I don’t know Freddie,” you teased, “the way you were singing to me out there made it seem like I was a little more than a friend to you.” 

You were only joking, but Fred was immediately silent, turning to stare down at his hands. “I, uh, I may have gotten a little bit caught up in the moment,” he stuttered. His nervousness caught you off guard, as it was so unlike the confident prankster to be so tense. 

“So you really memorized that song, recreated specific scenes from the movie, and took time to enchant a magic carpet to fly me across the skyline, just to make me feel better?”

He chuckled nervously, slightly embarrassed about all of the effort he put in. “When have I been known to be simple with these kinds of things, love?”

“Never,” you scoffed. Feeling a bit of a courage course through your veins you reached to grab his hand, intertwining it with yours. Fred squeezed your hand back and you moved to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the sweetest person I know, Freddie. You may be a little dumb and over the top sometimes, but you’re sweet.”

Fred smiled down at you and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it last minute. You decided to give this one more chance. 

“Fred? Can I...can I kiss you?”

The words were barely out of your mouth when his lips gently touched yours, drawing you into the softest kiss you could imagine. Your lips moved in sync, slowly at first but quickly picking up a little speed. After what felt like an eternity you had to come up to catch your breath, tugging on his bottom lip as you moved away. 

The two of you just stared at each other before you let out a small giggle. “Oi!” Fred exclaimed. “You think snogging me is funny? Wow, I think I’ll have to take those privileges away from you, you selfish girl.”

“Oh no, don’t deprive me of that Weasley, I couldn’t live without you.” He shoved your arm playfully and you spoke again. “I just think it’s funny that it took me cursing you out after class and an extravagant musical number for you to finally kiss me. And even then I had to initiate it! For a Gryffindor you really are a chicken sometimes.”

He responded by pressing his lips to yours again, this time in a shorter but just as passionate kiss. “I was getting around to it, I just didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a vulnerable state,” he said as his excuse. 

“Well I can tell you now, love,” you said, “this has nothing to do with my ‘vulnerable state.’ I’ve been in love with you forever, I was just too scared to say anything.”

“Ah, so you’re the real chicken then.” 

You relented, not wanting this perfect moment to turn into another argument between you and the twin. “Yeah, I’m the chicken, and you can be the prince that swoops in and steals the chicken away on a magic carpet.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only if the chicken turns into my beautiful princess by the end. Y/N, will you be my princess?”

You bit your lip trying to hold back a scream of pure happiness. Something you hadn’t felt in months. “Of course Freddie, I’m yours.”

[lilbabycee]

sundown // steve rogers 🌇

↳ summary: steve’s little ray of sunshine isn’t shining so bright.

↳ relationship: steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 2.5k

↳ warnings: angst angst angst (i was in my feelings with this one), hurt/comfort and some fluff 

↳ author’s note: hi! i wrote a kind of sequel to daybreak today! i’ve been stuck in a writing rut for like two weeks but then @pinksdaydream​ inspired me to write some more for this! 🥰

READ DAYBREAK

A year later and Steve still hasn’t learned his lesson. Every day, he stares for hours at the brightest light that he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing in his many years of life. He can’t believe how close he is, how easily he’s able to touch and feel something- someone so precious. It’s a wonder that he hasn’t been burned yet, but he knows that it’s because this light doesn’t pose a physical threat to him - emotionally, perhaps, but rather, it’s much more the contrary. He basks it in, soaks in its warmth and revels in its brilliance all because he’s allowed to. He’s allowed to because this light is his. 

It’s you.

You’re not perfect - you tripped on the fluffy white rug in the living room and subsequently ran into the sharp marble corner of the kitchen island this morning alone - but you’re still his. However, this time you’re awake and standing in the kitchen - too far away from him. One of his grey Henley’s shields your entire upper half from his eager gaze and he silently curses himself for throwing you that shirt when you’d asked for one - if he was smarter, he would’ve just insisted that you walk around naked. He knows that your legs are completely bare, but his vivid imagination has to be the one to conjure up the image of those miles of exposed skin because his view is obstructed by the kitchen counter. For now, he’s stuck admiring you from the waist up. He bets that he could rip the counter right out of the tiled floor if he tried hard enough, but he knows that as of right now, he has more restraint than that. 

No matter what time of the day, not once in any of those twenty-four hours for the past one-thousand-one-hundred-and-eighteen days has he failed to be amazed by how you can make him feel like the asthmatic man he was all of those years ago by simply walking into a room, no matter whether or not you even know that he’s there. You’ve been quieter than usual lately, running endless back-to-back sprints as opposed to marathons inside your brain that wear you out because you refuse to take a water break. He knows what this is - he’s seen it before, watched you run so far only to drop the baton in the relay race at the most critical moment. And as much as he can coach you to not push so hard and pace your running, in the end, you’re the only one who can really make those decisions for yourself. 

Of course, you always take his advice in stride, using it to propel yourself those last few meters to the finish line. But time and time again, he’s watched you fall short, letting all the different facets of your overactive and often noisy brain speed past you to snap that finish line tape in half much like the way that they break your soul. Your aura dims considerably in moments like these, despite the glow of the late afternoon sun swallowing the white walls of your apartment and spitting out rays of golden light. One shines right on your face and Steve almost laughs - it’s as if the sun itself knows how deserving you are of the limelight - a star in his eyes having taken center stage in the production of his life. 

He’d let you take all of the attention any day. But you’re not like that - as much as you can be his little social butterfly, the taste of pink lemonade and cherry lollipops in your speech, there are still those days when he can both physically and emotionally see you sink in on yourself, the words you speak stinging him in a way that makes his entire body shudder just thinking about it. They always taste like copper to him.

He knows that you don’t mean it. It’s the way you’ve always been and who is he to think that he’s entitled to make you change it? But the way that you deal with what goes on inside your head isn’t healthy. He knows that. You know it, too. And you’re trying. That’s all he can ask for. 

And so here he sits on the floor of your living room, large body wedged in the sizable space between the coffee table and the couch that his back rests against. You’re directly in his line of sight - still too far away - but that’s okay because even though you haven’t spared him a glance or uttered a word to him in the past hour, at least you’re together. 

Sometimes he regrets the mantle that he carries around - Captain America. True, it is such an integral part of him but he can’t help but resent it some days. It keeps him away from you all too often. Time and time again, people have chased him just to meet the man in red, white, and blue. They’re not interested in the man behind the shield and honestly, he doesn’t know if he is either. There have been plenty of times where he’s spiraled into an identity crisis, unable to separate Steve Rogers from his superhero persona. 

But every single time, you’ve been there to work through it right alongside him. You’ve dealt with him at his very lowest - when he was in a hole deeper than rock bottom and couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed in the morning. So there has not been even one moment when Steve has thought about leaving you alone when you get like this. He now knows not to pry just as well as he knows that you don’t want to be by yourself in times like these. You may not explicitly vocalize it, but in the seconds when you do meet his stare across the dinner table or right before you fall asleep, he can see the love housed in the depths of your eyes and that’s more than enough for him.

His own eyes haven’t left you for the better part of the hour. His favorite black leather-bound sketchbook is open to what was once a blank page at the beginning of the day but is now an almost complete sketch of the angel in front of him. The luminosity of the sun on your body reveals your halo, usually hidden during the day but in rare moments like these, he’s able to appreciate your otherworldly presence casually standing in the middle of his kitchen with a hand propped against the edge of the counter. A notebook is set in front of you and Steve never thought that he could be so jealous of an inanimate object before - it’s held your undivided attention for hours. 

His eyes widen as you shift, leaning forwards to rest both of your elbows on the counter top to type something on your open laptop and giving him a clear view of your breasts through the gap in the front of your shirt. Your lips have been wrapped around a ballpoint pen for virtually the whole day which is how he knows you’ve been working hard because sucking on the ends of pens always helps you focus. He, on the other hand, can’t seem to focus at all as soon as you whip out one of those godforsaken pens. Steve swallows hard - almost immediately regretting wearing grey sweatpants as he adjusts the crotch as subtly as he can - and tears his eyes away from you to flip to a new page, sketching profusely so as to immortalize this moment in his sketchbook before his mind can even dare to forget it. 

In his haste, he doesn’t even realize when the silence is broken by the chime of your voice. 

“Steve. Steve.”

His hand moves fast and he’s squinting at the page in concentration, willing his brain to hold onto the picture of you bent over the kitchen counter as if he doesn’t have the real thing standing right in front of him-

“Stevie,” you call out, your brow furrowing slightly in concern. This makes his head snap up - finally - and you can’t help but notice how blown his pupils are and how strategic the placement of his sketchbook seems to be. You can pinpoint the exact moment that he starts to panic. For someone who is usually so stoic, he wears his heart proudly on his sleeve. Realization quite literally dawns on his face but it does nothing to alleviate the dusting of light pink across his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” his unused voice is raspy but he doesn’t bother clearing his throat, as if he knows exactly how it makes you clench your thighs together where he can’t see them. “I was just really invested in- uh,” he hesitates, gesturing vaguely at the page that you can’t see, “the sketch. What’s goin’ on, doll?”

And the flower of your heart blooms at the look in those eyes that remind you so much of April showers, those eyes that are filled to the brim with the rain that has watered all of the dead and decaying blossoms that line your stomach, crawl up to your ribs and up your throat, their vines climbing up through your skull to wrap around your brain. That look alone, framed by those insanely long eyelashes, has extended a helping hand to your beaten-down spirit, telling it to dust itself off and keep going. 

“You’re staring, sweetheart,” Steve’s sinfully pink lips quirk up into a demure smile as he teases you, his thick beard shielding the brief flash of white teeth. You decided a long time ago that the beard has been the best thing to happen to you, as is the long hair that he’s currently running his hands through. 

“Sorry,” you say but continue to stare unabashedly at his beautiful face because you don’t mean it. You can’t help the way that your eyes trail down his chest that has woefully been covered by one of his too-tight black t-shirts, though you don’t miss the way that it strains against his bulging biceps, nor the way that it’s slightly rucked up at the bottom which gives you an eyeful of the dark blonde wisps of hair that travel downwards towards one of your favorite parts of his body. 

Steve, always so perceptive, doesn’t miss where your gaze has traveled, and he can’t help the self-satisfied smirk that grows on his face. It’s easy to forget that you’ve been down for these past few days when you have seconds like these in between those tired hours when you oversleep and he hasn’t slept at all because he’s too busy watching you.

“See somethin’ you like, baby?” he hums, continuing his sketch absent-mindedly because he knows that the image of you standing in front of him like a dream will forever be ingrained into his memory. 

Heat ignites your veins and blooms in your cheeks; you can’t help it when you look away, smiling shyly to the side. Steve has resigned himself to the fact that you won’t answer, going back to tracing careful lines with the point of his pencil. 

“In fact, I do,” you murmur, knowing that if it was anybody else, they wouldn’t have heard you. Steve’s eyes meet yours and you can almost taste the saltiness of the ocean on your tongue as he drowns you in their depths. He stands abruptly, casting his book to the side carelessly and taking long strides to get to where you are. 

Once his hand lands on your hip, the warmth seeps in through the cotton of your shirt and melts your entire body; it catalyzes the small eruption of the volcano in your chest, causing the burning lava of the breath that you didn’t know you were holding to spill over and out of your mouth in an audible sigh. His other hand soon joins the first, framing your body and pulling you back into him. You stare down at the dusting of hair on his forearms when he slips them around your waist and you squeal when he turns you around in his hold, meeting your eyes with a softness that you weren’t expecting.

“Do you wanna talk about what’s goin’ on with you, sweetheart?” he probes lightly in that same low voice, recognizing your deflection and not wanting to cause that volcano to explode. You bite the inside of your cheek, avoiding eye contact because you don’t want him to worry (you don’t know that he worries about you every second of every day because you’re almost his entire heart) but he grasps your jaw in his right hand. He ducks his head down a little, trying to catch your darting eyes. When they finally rest on him, he thinks that he’s dying because your stare is glassy and your lip is trembling. 

“Baby,” he coos, tugging you into his chest. You relent, releasing your hold on his forearms to throw your arms around his middle. It’s hard to hold back the tears anymore: Steve’s concern has kicked down the fragile floodgates of your emotional control. Pressing your head into his chest, he says nothing while your body shakes but it’s better this way. You know that you’d only cry even more if he started speaking. Instead, you inhale gasping breaths between babbling as you try to explain why you haven’t been yourself recently. He listens attentively, rubbing circles into your back and dropping frequent kisses on your forehead. 

The room is more orange than yellow by the time you can finally speak coherently. 

“M’sorry,” you sniffle into his shirt, fists clenching the material tightly. He pushes you away from him so there’s just enough space for him to lift his hands to your face. Slowly, he wipes any residual tears from your cheeks and underneath your eyes with this thumbs. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, baby,” he speaks softly, your face still in his hands when he presses a kiss to your nose, both of your now mostly dry cheeks, and then right on top of your lips. It’s chaste, only lasting about a second but it makes your soul sing nonetheless. 

You stand in silence for a beat longer, merely staring into each other’s eyes before something flashes in Steve’s eyes. You squish your face to his body again, feeling his chest rise slightly, signifying that he’s about to speak. 

“What did you need before, sweetheart?”

You’re confused. 

“What do you mean?

“When you were calling me before - what did you need?”

Now you get it. 

“Oh- I was just going to ask what you wanted for dinner...”

Your voice falters at the end because - and you have no clue why - this makes Steve throw his head back as he barks out a surprised laugh. You frown, narrowing your eyes at him slightly. 

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing - I just love you, that’s all,” he clarifies, casually throwing the sentiment out there because it’s so easy with you. It’s always easy, even when it’s not.

“I love you, too,” you place a lingering kiss on his jaw before pulling back to stare in his eyes with a grave expression on your face. Now it’s his turn to frown in confusion. “But seriously, what do you want for dinner?”

[writingformymentalhealth]

Chapter 5

The Black Brothers

Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.

Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black.

Tw: Arranged marriage, possible smut, swear words, lots of fluff, angst, mentions of abuse and depression,

Part 1

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Masterlist

The Newts went by in the blink of an eye and before any of them knew they were back at the platform 9 3/4.

“I will miss you so bad,” Isa said and Joey’s insides felt warm. Isa wasn’t one for sentimentalities usually and having her openly talk about missing her made her happier than she would ever admit.

“I’ll miss you too, Isa.” She said, pulling the girl in a quick hug.

“Hey Isa, don’t steal away my girl,” Sirius’ voice said from behind, earning him a playful shove from Joey.

Isa waved a last time before going to look for her parents, leaving the couple to bid their goodbyes.

“Farewell Princess.”

“We’ll see each other at the next boring pureblood ball.”

“I’ll still miss you like crazy.” His hand cupped her cheek, making a blush creep up on her. How could he make her feel this way, even after all these years?

And then kissed her. He kissed her like it was the last kiss they ever shared.

After pulling back, both teens were slightly panting.

“I’ll miss you too, Black”

“Write to me, love.”

“Every day.”

And with a last playful wink the boy disappeared between the people, going to find his parents - or hiding from them.

Just seconds later, Quentin appeared next to the girl.

“Let’s go, mum and dad will be waiting.” He said, nudging her.

It only took the twins minutes to find their parents chatting with the Malfoys, and even though Quentin’s expression remained rather neutral, Joey could practically feel her brother’s blood boil at the sight of Lucius.

Their Mother was the first one to see the twins hugging them both and mumbling something about having missed them. Their father just nodded at the scene, bidding his goodbyes to the Malfoys.

“We have something to tell you when we come home.” Cordelia whispered to her children before grabbing Joey’s hand.

Joey and Quentin exchanged a look.

With a plop the family landed back at the Fawley residence and Joey inhaled the familiar scent of Lavender and Moth balls that always seemed to linger in the old house and didn’t pay much attention to her mother asking for a teatime with the family to discuss ‘important matters’. At least until Quentin took her hand, and she felt just how clammy and sweaty his hand was.

“It will be alright Quen.”

He shook his head. And Joey prayed they weren’t going to tell her that his depression got worse.

With a weird feeling in her stomach, she made her way to the sitting corner in which the Fawley family always drunk their tea, carefully pulling Quentin behind, who seemed almost frozen into place.

Their parents sat opposite to them, both seeming suspiciously smiley.

“What’s up?” Joey asked, not able to take the tension anymore.

Her mother inhaled sharply before letting her catlike green eyes meet her daughters. “We arranged a marriage for you, Josephine.”

“You what?” The siblings asked simultaneously.

“We arranged for you to marry a respectable pure blood gentleman.” Her father explained, not looking his children in the eyes.

“Absolutely not.”

Her mother pursed her lips. “I fear you don’t have a choice, Darling.”

“You were always against that bullshit,” her brother spat, his voice being louder than ever.

“Things change, circumstances change.” Their father said, just earning a scoff from his son.

“It is the best for all of us.”

“Not for me.”

Her mother looked at her sadly, “You don’t have a choice.”

“Oh hell, yes I do.” Joey screamed, standing up, running into her room, still faintly hearing her brother argue with her parents.

In her room she pulled out her trunk, chaotically throwing clothes, pictures and other prized possessions in it. She didn’t know where she was going to go, but she knew she needed to go. Hot tears streamed down her face, she always thought her parents were different, sure most pure blood families had some weird beliefs about keeping their blood pure therefore arranged marriage looked like the best thing to do, but her parents always seemed to accept that their children would go their own way.

A faint knock on the door alerted the girl of her mother’s presence.

“Can I come in?”

“In your words, I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“We made a deal with the family years ago,” her mother sighed suddenly looking decades older, “we promised them you would marry their son in exchange for safety from the dark Lord.”

“What has Voldemort to do with all this?” her Mother flinched by the mention of his name.

“The family is very close to him. They inform him about blood traitors, eventual followers and all that.”

“So I don’t have a choice?”

“Not if you want your loved ones to live.” Her Mother said simply giving her daughter a reassuring squeeze before going out of the room leaving Joey at a complete loss.

After the initial shock, there was only one thing on her mind: Sirius.

She fidgeted with the silver ring on her left hand, knowing that she always wanted to marry him, spend her life with the boy she loved above everything else, and now she would have to face a relationship like Narcissa had with Lucius.

The lump in her throat grew bigger and bigger, and she barely noticed the tears streaming down her face mercilessly.

Perhaps the worst heartbreak isn’t getting broken up with, perhaps the worst heartbreak is knowing you have to break up with someone who you still love with every fiber of your body.

-

Two days had gone by, but Joey didn’t even seem to notice. Everything went on in a blur and no words from Isabella, who she wrote to immediately nor her brother, could pull her out of her misery.

“You know you need to break up with him, don’t you?” Her brother just asked, while soothingly drawing circles on her back.

“Isabella said I should break his heart really bad to make it easier for him,” Joey scoffed, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

“That’s a terrible idea, even for Isabella.”

“You just say that because you hate her. She said, I should just tell him I am in love with someone else.”

“Josephine, don’t do it, please. People will know about the arranged marriage just like they know about Lucius and Narcissa.”

“I could still love him though.”

“Sirius isn’t stupid - not that stupid at least.”

“If I tell him the truth he would try to fight the bloke in some deathly duel or something,” she laughed humorlessly, “he’d do anything for me.”

“You don’t need to tell him a reason to break up with him.”

“Don’t you think I owe him one?”

Her brother stayed silent, engulfing her in a hug, while her tears left a wet patch on his shirt. Quentin knew better than to argue with his sister. She already made up her mind.

-

Joey had asked Sirius to meet her at the park bench he once gave her the promise ring at. Her face was stoic, almost unreadable. She knew she couldn’t show weakness in front of him. She couldn’t make him question her decision. She needed to be confident and cold.

She already saw him from afar, his long hair hanging in his eyes while he comfortably sat in the grass even though a perfectly intact bench was right next to him.

As soon as the boy saw her his eyes lit up and he stood up to hug her, but she took a step back making his eyebrows snap together in confusion.

“We need to talk.” She said instead of a greeting slowly making her way to the bench.

“What’s wrong, love?”

She forced herself to look into his concerned eyes that were so full of love for her and she knew Isabella was right. She would have to break him so he could let her go.

“I am breaking up with you.”

Sirius’ eyes widened in disbelief, his hands fidgeting with each other like they always did when he got overwhelmed, and Joey had to resist the urge to hold them.

“Why? Joey we can fix this I-“

“I made my decision.”

He swallowed hard, and she saw tears starting to pool in his eyes.

“Why?” He asked again, his voice cracking.

“I found somebody else.” She said simply, not daring to look into the stormy grey eyes she was still very much in love with, “and I am in love with him.”

“I love you.” Sirius said, his voice barely above a whisper and it took everything in Joey not to say it back.

“I should go.” She said, not waiting for an answer before standing up and taking fast steps towards the point she knew she could Apparate away in safety. A small part of her hoped he would run after her, tell her he saw through her act, tell her he knew how to get out of it but he didn’t so she let the tears that she was holding in since the moment she saw him sitting next to the bench fall but to her surprise she didn’t feel the hurt anymore. Instead, her heart felt cold, as if it was made of ice or as if someone had just burst through her rib cage and taken it out, leaving only an empty space.

Sirius Black felt like he was having a heart attack, and for a short second he thought about admitting himself into St mangos hospital but he came to the conclusion that maybe having a heart attack right now wouldn’t be too bad because the one person he trusted and treasured over anyone else made his worst fears come true. He knew he was always jealous, but that was just because he knew deep inside that a guy like him could never keep a girl like her. That a girl like Josephine didn’t settle for family disappointments with lots of baggage, but he still tried and for a brief moment he thought he could be happy. Now he knew that some people just aren’t meant to be happy.

For the first time since the couple started dating, Sirius lit up a cigarette, inhaling the deathly smoke deeply, hoping that it would kill the sadness in him.

Sirius Black’s world became dull that day.

Unbeknownst to both they had the same essential question running through their head, ‘who is this other guy’ but while Sirius would have to wait some time till his question got answered, Joey had the option to confront her parents.

Of course she could have done this earlier, but she had to admit she was scared of the answer. She knew most pureblood families and couldn’t say she particularly liked them. Additionally a family that was close to the Dark Lord was bound to be involved in the dark arts and at least to some extent evil.

She shuddered at that thought; she heard all the stories about arranged marriages - the regular rape, the abuse and the fear and she wasn’t keen on joining that club. So when she saw her Mother that day ready to confront her - she couldn’t.

She couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Actually, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything besides lay in bed and sleep, she didn’t even have it in her to cry anymore. Even after her Mother informed her she was going to meet her future husband for dinner, she didn’t have it in herself to react.

In the end it was her brother who brought back the girl’s spirits on the day of the dinner.

“Oh no, you are not meeting your future husband looking like that.”

“Why? He has to marry me, anyway.” Joey said, rolling over.

“Go shower. Now. You smell, and if you don’t shower, I will conjure a bucket of ice water and shower you myself.” He said while rummaging through her closet.

Joey frowned, not being used to her brother being so authoritarian, but she did as he said, too tired to argue with him.

Even though she would never admit it, the shower did make her feel better, and the dress her brother chose made her feel like a real life princess.

“You have to do your clown paint on your own, I have no idea what that stuff is.” He said gesturing to her makeup and for the first time in eleven days Joey chuckled.

She was just doing her eye makeup as her mother came in, a sad smile decorating her face. “You never asked who.”

“Does it matter?” Joey asked, applying mascara.

“It’s Regulus Black.”

Joey almost poked her eye out as she heard that. Her heart hammered desperately against her chest.

“Why not Sirius?” Quentin asked the question Joey wanted to ask so desperately. “Isn’t he the oldest?”

Her mother made a sound with her mouth, “We discussed this matter but Sirius and his family have a complicated relationship, they want regulus to make the proud.”

And Joey felt like her heart broke all over again. She was so close to getting what she wanted, yet destiny had ripped it away from her again. If this was a story, the Author had to be downright cruel to put her through this.

-

At the Black Mansion Sirius - for the first time in his life felt completely and utterly broken. Hot tears ran down his face, and he couldn’t contain the sobs coming out of his mouth.

He almost didn’t notice his Mother coming in hitting him with the stupid Black family ring she was so proud of turning it outward so it would leave deep cuts on his cheeks.

“Crying is something for muggles and weaklings. Not for Blacks.” She screeched, but he didn’t care, he never cared for anything his parents wanted or said, he only cared for her and his friends and maybe Regulus even though his loyalty to their parents could be infuriating sometimes.

“We have guests this evening. If you aren’t on your best behavior, I will crucio you right in front of them.” His mother sneered, and Sirius knew from experience that she meant what she said.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” His Mother grabbed her wand and Sirius bit his lip till it started bleeding.

“Yes, ma’am.” he grumbled quietly, just hoping that she would disappear soon so he could be sad in peace.

Walburga strutted out of the room, locking the door behind her, making Sirius sigh.

He looked around his room trying to ground himself, the red gryffindor flags, the muggle band posters from bands he didn’t know just to spite his mother, the pictures of the Marauders and of course the pictures of Joey that he didn’t yet have the heart to take down, her smile illuminating the whole room even through a picture. Tears filled his eyes again, yet he didn’t dare to cry. Instead, he got out his wand, muttering some spells to heal the wounds.

A few hours later Sirius was well aware of how horrible he looked, skin pale, deep rings under the eyes and his usually shiny hair hanging matted over his eyes, this look being further enhanced while standing next to his brother who looked more and more like Sirius every day, sharing his aristocratic features. But other than Sirius;, Regulus looked amazing, his tie in place, his hair combed and his shoes cleaned.

Sirius saw the disgusted face his mother gave him before gushing about Regulus and he couldn’t help but feel accomplished at his disheveled appearance that hopefully would disgust any weird poor blood family her mother invited for today.

“Adrian, Cordelia! How nice to see you.” Walburga greeted, making Sirius’ blood run cold at the mention of Joey’s parents’ names; and really just behind the two middle-aged wizards and next to Quentin, the girl of his dreams, stood. Her usually wavy hair was curled and neatly pinned up, leaving just a few strands to frame her beautiful face.

Sirius stood there frozen as the other people greeted each other. Joey stiffly shook his hand. Her eyes looking cold and disinterested, just like the first time Sirius saw her at the pureblood ball.

Joey, on the other hand, felt immensely grateful for her brother standing beside her, as she didn’t know where she should look. She was scared to look in Regulus eyes seeing the familiar cold and steely gaze of her future husband and even though she wanted to, she knew looking in Sirius’ eyes would just open up a Pandora’s box of feelings.

The dinner went over like a blur, Walburga asking lots of questions that were being answered politely, mostly by Cordelia.

As dessert came - crème brûlée, finally the point of the entire dinner was made clear.

“Josephine, Regulus, as you both know we arranged a marriage between you two, binding two of the most pureblood families together by law.” Orion said, his voice cold and calculated just like Regulus’ voice was. Sirius started coughing uncontrollably, choking on the water he just tried to drink, earning himself dirty looks from the pureblood parents, Orion especially looking at Sirius like Walburga looked at discounter clothes. “Don’t mind my son, he doesn’t take news like a gentleman, another reason why we chose regulus over him.”

Joey looked up from her plate - the first time this evening and her mask broke for a short second and Sirius saw how deeply horrified she looked before she went back to smiling politely with the same cold disinterested eyes every pureblood kid learned to have at a young age.

“We expect you to be a pleasant couple till you marry, no drama or other nonsense.” Orion continued.

“Josephine, darling, I suspect your parents already informed you about the risks of acting out?” Walburga asked, and Joey’s stomach turned at her sickly sweet voice. Her eyes automatically found Sirius’ for comfort, but his eyes were clouded with shock and something Joey could only interpret as realization.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well, how about you two go up to Regulus’ room to get to know each other better, while we discuss the details of the engagement party?”

Regulus nodded wordlessly, taking his future fiancée’s hand leading her up the stairs so familiar of the noble house of black, into his room.

It was the first time that Joey saw a room except the ball room and Sirius’ room and she was impressed at how unimpressive the room looked. The walls were empty except a Slytherin flag over his bed; the room was almost hauntingly neat, and she didn’t see even one personal item.

“I apologize for all of this.” Regulus said, looking at the stoic girl in front of him.

“No need to apologize.” She whispered, her voice sounding hoarse as she took in the room, looking anywhere but into the boys’ eyes.

“I’m sure no girl wants to have that kind of proposal.”

She chuckled at the absurdity of his words, sitting down on his bed, surprised at the softness of the mattress, yet shuddering at the thought of her having to have sex with him on that mattress - or anywhere, for that matter.

“We are practically engaged and you don’t even know my favorite color.” She said, looking into his eyes for the first time this evening.

There was a deep breath, and then Regulus sat beside her.

“Josephine-“

“Why are you marrying me?”

He looked shocked at the question and Joey wished she could take the words back, knowing that she crossed a line and being basically the property of Regulus now, she should maybe at least try to keep the comments to herself.

“Josephine, it’s what our parents want from us.”

“Nobody calls me Josephine, except my parents.” Joey whispered, her voice restrained from the fear pulsing through her body.

“I know, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to call you that.”

Joey looked into his steely eyes, and they looked surprisingly soft and understanding. And a small glimmer of hope tugged at her heartstrings.

“Why do you care what I want? Am I now not your property?” The words came out harder than she intended, and Regulus flinched slightly.

“I’m not a monster.”

Joey stayed silent.

She was glad, as Walburga called them downstairs, looking at them as if she just won the lottery.

“Splendid news, we will hold the engagement party in one week.”, Joey forced a smile but by the falling face of Walburga she could already tell that it came out more like a grimace, “and the even better news is that you will spend all summer with us so you and Regulus can bond and have some appearances as a couple before you marry.”

Joey’s stomach turned. Spending all summer with the guy they forced her to marry, her ex boyfriend who still gave her butterflies and their psychopathic parents sounded like a nightmare.

“We will have a guest room ready.” Orion added coldly, and from the corner of her eye she saw Sirius exhaling in something that looked like relief.

“Oh no, we aren’t in the eighties anymore. She can sleep in Regulus room, they can practice for their wedding night.” Walburga grinned wolfishly, and Joey felt so sick she was sure she would throw up all over the carpet.

Masterlist

Part 6

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this story :)

[sparklingchan]

Tipsy Turvy || Choi San(Ateez)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Choi San

Word count : 5k+

Warnings : Cuss words , alcohol , hangover , mentions of over drinking, not proof read.

Genre : Fluff , a tiny bit of angst , romance , friends to lovers au.

Description : You have a complicated relationship with San , and the alcohol in your system makes it worse ( or better).

Author's Note : So with all honesty , I have NO idea how people behave when drunk so I searched it up and wrote this 90%  based on that ( and 10% on  my friends’ advice). I hope at least one of y’all get the horrible pun in the title  -_-

Please do reblog , like and comment if you like this. My DMs are also open so if you want to gimme a review , feel free.

Enjoy!

The coffee in the cup must have gone cold by now, because the moment you touch it’s surface ,you don't feel the same sting as you did a few minutes ago.

Not that it tasted good anyway. You're almost glad you didn't have to drink it but maybe, right now, you could use a sip or two to spare yourself a few seconds of peace.

"The coffee is wonderful, isn't it? It's my favorite one." The man in front of you - Mike - needs to seriously give you a break, or else there will be blood on the streets. Literally, "I'm glad you like it."

Does he not see the clearly disgusted look on your face ? Or was he so sure you'd like this drink just because he ordered it without even asking you?

"Yeah ,its fine." You sigh , touching your lips to the mouth of the cup and then putting it back down. You're not drinking that already tasteless and now cold coffee. No way.

"So ,y/n, since we're expected to give our parents an answer after this date, I'd like to know about your opinions first . And please be honest. I would hate to upset you." He says , scratching his chin .

Your eyes widen at the unexpected string of words. This is the first time since this stupid date began that he actually asked your opinion on anything.

"Well," you begin, your mind filling up with tons of words that you'd waited patiently to let out , "Marriage is a big decision. At least for me. And this is all too fast. I just hope we have enough time to know each other before our parents set the date."

He nods his head , “ I agree, I agree. Its important . Right."

You furrow your brows. His reaction seems very forced. Like he really didn't agree with you , but for the sake of it , he's agreeing.

"And what kind of qualities do you look for in a man,y/n?" You want to roll your eyes at the question but you pull your lips up in a smile, not quiet touching your eyes but enough to convince him. You wonder why he was trying so hard to save a date that had been going downhill from the moment he sat down in front of you. You guys clearly didn't like each other, and the spark was missing.

A spark you'd only ever felt with one person.

"Its difficult to describe ideal types but yeah,I'd like someone who's compatible with me and loving and well.. obviously respectful." You say. Mike chuckles at your answer , as if amused by it, "I was expecting you to say you wanted someone who's rich and handsome like...me , honestly. But it's alright." You wonder if he actually hears himself because he really sounded like a self absorbed piece of shit right now. And you'd really do anything to escape from this date.

"Well , I guess not. " you reply with a chuckle. In all honesty, you yourself don't know what your ideal type is. It's not about the conditions or requirements that a person fulfills. It's not a job , it's a connection. You can't confine people to certain criterias. It defies the whole purpose of that connection. And even if you did have qualities you looked for in a man , everything would always end up pointing at only one damn person. You push his images away even before they can surface into your mind.

"So anyway, as I was saying before the coffee arrived , my dad bought this really pretty yacht for me last month and it's super amazing to - " and you shut him out completely while he continues blabbering and you quietly sip the disgusting coffee in front of you.

You really want to groan now. Like on his face. Putting emphasis on how draining and boring this whole conversation is for you.

But all you do is smile and nod.

You were going to reject him the moment your parents set you up on a date with a ' nice and charming bachelor '. What side of Mike did they find even remotely nice or charming? You would never know. But one thing is sure now ,you will at least not have to deal with your parents pestering you for marriage after you reject Mike.

The weather is extremely humid today , despite it having rained in the morning so without a doubt , you'd spent your day indoors , reading a book and drinking unhealthy amount of fruit punch.

"Are they still upset ? " your parents should have seen it coming ,really. The rejection was as inevitable as the rising of the sun every morning or the setting of the sun in the evening. Yet , your parents are pretty disappointed at the decision even after three days since that stupid date. You , on the other hand are happy to have gotten rid of Mike - even if it meant your parents being angry.

Your younger brother , Jongho ,sighs into the phone, " What do you think? They really thought you'd finally marry now."

You don't really blame them though. Not at all. That's what they were always taught ,weren't they? Graduate high school, finish college ,get a good job and get married. The full circle.That is all they've every known yet you find yourself upset at the fact that they didn't consider your unwillingness to this marriage ( or any other marriage) at all. You're just barely starting to work ,you cannot throw away all of that to be a good wife and daughter in law. Sure Mike is the son of some rich man who does business with your father, but economical relationships cannot be a basis for a marriage.

"Well, I can't help it . I'm not marrying that asshole at any cost. " you huff , " He is so creepy and weird. Let mom and dad stay pressed. I don't care."

"Is it just because you didn't find Mike interesting or something else?" Jongho asks.

"I guess? " you reply, scratching the back of your head.

"You know , y/n, I understand that you don't want to get married and whatever but we both know there's a solid reason behind it and I am sick of you denying it all the time." Jongho is too honest for your liking. Too brutal , no sugarcoated words. Just the truth.

And the truth stings.

"Shut up." You grumble, fiddling with the book in your hands , legs dangling from the edge of your bed, " I told you not to mention it ever again?"

"Y/n, you love him. Okay? You have loved him for seven years now . It is high time you shoot your shot or else you'll end up with some rich asshole who doesn't give two shits about you!"

He's right,of course he is. His words are not really an opinion or a vague prediction of the future. Those are facts. But hearing him say all that out loud makes your blood turn cold in your body. Fear creeping through every inch of your skin , making it hard to think clearly.

"I don't think it matters if I love him or not. I gave up on him. We haven't spoken much ever since college ended. " you say.

" You didn't give up. You just ran away instead of acknowledging it. There's a difference." Jongho replies , " And for your kind information it's only been six months since college got over. You need to stop talking like it was twenty years ago or something. "

You chuckle at his last phrase, grateful that he's trying to uplift the weirdly tense mood. "I don't think I can do it , Jongho. I want to. I really do but I don't think he likes me back." You admit.

"You're delusional if you think he doesn't like you back, y/n. All the late night car drives, movie dates , eating unhealthy food late into the nights - San loves you too. Obviously he does."

You sigh ,running your fingers over the rough page of the book in your lap. 'Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.' The words read out. The tightening of your chest increases.

"He was just being nice." You mutter.

Jongho sighs loudly from the other side , "Okay , believe what you want . I can't handle both you and mom-dad together, okay? Spare me your bullshit. Bye."

Wow, talk about being a rude, disrespectful child !

You are usually not the one to point fingers or put blame on other people , but you really despised your best friend right now. And you have every right to do so. Your best friend is the main reason why your parents are so desperately trying to get you married and see you settle down and have kids and whatever. Jisoo is the epitome of every good quality all parents desire in a daughter. She's perfect. Even more than that sometimes.

"How's your husband?" Your question doesn't sound very genuine - the words slipping out of your tongue like they were being forced out. But Jisoo seems to let it go.

"He's good , really good. " She replies ,taking a sip from the only can of cola you had left in your fridge. She passes it over to you.

"How lucky ." You mutter , taking a sip of the same drink.

"I know what you're thinking ,y/n. I know your ass is upset about everything that happened with Mike but things take time. Okay? I married early because I wanted to." she says, reading right through you like you were a book she'd read millions of times ,"If you don't want to marry , don't. Stop blaming yourself for not finding good guys." " I wonder if I'll ever find anyone even remotely nice, Jisoo. The only few guys I've been set up on dates with are not my type and well , Mike ... I don't know. We're just not compatible." You complain , " And besides I'm so terrified of marrying a guy I barely know."

Jisoo sighs , "Then marry a guy you've known for a long time."

"Who are you talking about?" You frown. You know exactly who she is talking about but you want to hear her say it. Say his name which you dare not even repeat to yourself when alone.

"Choi San ,of course. The love of your life ,your sun and stars , your sweetheart. " she says , her dreamy eyes widening to exaggerate her point.

You slap her arm hard , almost a little too hard. But you're convinced that she deserves it. "Ow !" She yells ,rubbing the sore area on her arm.

"That name is forbidden in my vicinity." You say.

Okay ,maybe now you are the one who deserves a slap. On the cheek. You couldn't believe that his name still fills your stomach with butterflies and causes your heart to beat so fast that you feel dizzy even though you claim that you're over him.

"No, it's not, y/n. Come on ,dude. You're still not over him. You will never be unless you confess and face the supposed rejection on your own. Only then you'll find it in yourself to seek other guys , unless that's not what you want." She jabs her finger on your shoulder softly , "That, or you can marry San himself. It's very simple ,really."

Now that she put it that way ,it sounds even more complicated and it sends your mind to a voyage into the sea of memories that you rarely even acknowledged anymore( or at least ,you tried to).

San's pretty eyes and alluring smile , the soft hold of his hand on your arm as you run to the movie halls just five minutes before it closes , the warmth of his hugs that you so dearly loved , his silky black hair that you've wanted to touch on so many occasions and the day you were sure he had leaned in to kiss you but your annoying brother decided to call just at that exact moment. You almost wish you could go back to your university graduation day , and wait a little longer for him after the event got over and tell him that he meant the world to you. More than he could ever imagine. You really wish you had waited that day.

"Jongho has this stupid theory that he likes me too. He's making me even more confused. " you say.

"At least Jongho has more brain cells than you. That kid deserves an award or something." Jisoo replies , chuckling.

"He's not a kid. He's just a year younger than me and you." You deadpan. Great, your best friend and brother are now on the same team.

She rolls her eyes , "Yeah , you are a kid too. Only a kid acts so naive and stupid when everything they've ever wanted is right there in front of them. Hell, even a kid would realise that San loves you !"

Jisoo talks a lot , but her words are never empty or vague. She says whatever she wants to and has to. And she is always able to make a point. But you're a dumb bitch who likes to pretend she's still not in love with her childhood sweetheart and is looking for love somewhere else.

"Anyway, can we go for a drink?"

"Glad you finally asked." Jisoo grabs your arm and drags you out of the house.

Your favorite bar in the entire world has to be the one you've been going to since you were in high school. From your first time drinking to vomiting in its toilet after having way too many vodka shots , from dancing with your friends to crying alone in a corner , that place has seen it all.

Coincidentally( not really), its Jisoo's favorite bar too.

"Okay, y/n. I think you should stop now. That's enough."

Coincidentally also ,you happen to not have a good alcohol tolerance yet an endearing desire to drown your sorrows in those glasses.

"No, I'm not even properly drunk." You whine ,your words only barely making sense to Jisoo. She grabs the glass away from you.

"Come on , let's take you home. " she tries to pull you from your seat , "Can't believe I thought it was a good idea to drink on a weekday."

"No, no, Jisoo. " you resist , pushing her away. " I want to..stay. here. I like it here. It's so warm and cozy . If I go home, I'll cry. I hate home. It's so ugly. Ew. This place is so pretty ."

Your vision is so blurry that your brain can't even form clear images anymore. You see Jisoo's form after squinting hard enough.

"You won't cry. I'll take care of you, y/n. Come on." Jisoo is so insistent you have to hold yourself back from punching her. Her lucky ass would never understand how much in pain your heart is in. And how much the alcohol helps in forgetting all that even just for a few minutes.

"You go home. I'll stay. I'll stay here for as long as I can. Away from all you blood suckers." You slur. And then giggle for no apparent reason.

Jisoo heaves a sigh ,sitting beside you. "Are you going to come with me or do I have to call San to pick you up?"

That was a threat. Jisoo always uses the same one and somehow, it always seems to work. Not today though.

"Hah! Joke's on you ! He doesn't care about me." You point at her face , giggling again.

San? Taking care of you? Funniest joke of the year.

"He does ,y/n. You know he does. What are you being like this?" She asks , rubbing your hand comfortingly. "I see the way he looks at you."

"He probably has a girlfriend already. He always posts romantic shit on Instagram. " you say ,resting your chin on your arm.

"He doesn't have one. I know he doesn't. He probably posts all that for you." She says.

You want to believe her but your brain feels fuzzy and foggy now. Like the sky on winter mornings.

"I want to see San, Jisoo. I miss him. I miss him so much. " you keep muttering under your breath , "Take me to him. I miss him."

Jisoo stares at you - wide eyed and slightly annoyed. Your low alcohol tolerance will get you into serious trouble one day.

"We can see him tomorrow. Let's go home now. Now." She pulls your arm again.

You push her off , "I said I want to see San ! Right now! Take me to him!"

You have never yelled at anyone while in a drunken state before so the sudden increased volume of your voice scares Jisoo. She let's go of your arm.

"Okay, will you come home after meeting San?" Jisoo asks ,taking her phone out to call a cab.

"Yes. No. Depends. I never want to be away from him." You say. "Take me to him , please. I haven't seen him in months. Years. I don't remember how long. Do you think he'll recognize me?"

Shaking her head , Jisoo makes a mental note to never take you out for drinking again.

San lives a few minutes away from your own apartment, but with traffic sometimes it takes almost an hour to reach his apartment.

Today must have been your lucky day because the traffic was almost negligible. Although you don't remember the journey to his house , you do remember his familiar voice greeting you and Jisoo like he had almost expected you both to arrive at his door this late at night.

"She was throwing a tantrum that she wanted to see you. So I brought her here. I hope it's not a problem. " Jisoo says in her sweet voice that she uses on everyone but you and her husband. You scowl.

"Hey, I wasn't throwing a tantrum! " You hit her arm again , but she puts on the fakest smile when San looks at the both of you with a confused face.

"And she's not very sober right now." Jisoo admits ,sighing. San presses his lips in line , observing you as play with the hem of your tshirt and your eyes are focused on his face. You never had so much confidence in a sober state. He knows this because he's seen you like this a million times before and hopefully, if all goes well tonight , he might see this state in the future too.

His stomach does a back flip when you stick out your bottom lip in a cute little pout.

"It's okay. She can stay the night here. I believe you have something important to tell me ,y /n?" San asks, titling his head.

You nod , beaming with happiness. Your eyes never leave his perfect face and his beautiful black hair which he decided to tie in a small ponytail tonight and his toned arms and his breathtakingly sweet dimples as he leads you inside, bidding goodbye to your bestfriend. Jisoo must be very relieved right now ,you think.

"Do you need a glass of water ,y/n?" San asks you , as he takes you gently by the arm to his bedroom. His alert eyes are always on your steps ,making sure you do not trip on anything.

"No. " you giggle. You're so happy to be with him alone at last that you can barely contain it . "I missed you ,San."

He laughs at your words ,shaking his head in disbelief as he makes you sit on his warm ,fluffy bed.

You've always wanted to sit there.

"Waoowww , this bed is so soft. " you swing your legs up and down with a big grin on your face , "I want to sleep on this bed. Oh my god ,awww."

San sees you lean down against the headboard and laugh at the ceiling, pointing out peculiar patterns . You look very content right now ,he notices. Your flushed cheeks , big , curious eyes , messy hair , yet he thinks you look beautiful like this - raw and natural and pretty.

"San! Sit with me, come here." You say , patting the empty space beside you.

San obliges without a question. He pushes you gently to the other side of the bed , himself settling beside you , careful not to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.

"What it is that you wanted to tell me ?" San questions, his fingers reaching upto your forehead to remove the strands of hair that cover your eyes.

"Promise me you won't be mad. " You hum into his touch ,wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around his body and snuggle into his chest. But even with alcohol in your system ,you know better than to do that.

"I promise." He replies with a toothy grin. His head leans on the headboard beside yours , his beautiful brown eyes drilling into yours ,making your knees go weak and heart flutter. And if it were possible to replace all blood from your body with physical adoration for Choi San ,you would have done it already. "Pinky promise?" You ask again ,lifting your right pinky up in front of his face.

Sighing , he connects his pinky to yours then pressing your thumbs together, "Pinky promise."

You take a deep breath then as naturally as ever ,the words you've always wanted to say roll out of your mouth , "I like you. "

San's breathing gets stuck in his throat , his whole being as if swallowed into a black hole for a few seconds. He stares at you like you were suddenly someone he'd never seen , never heard of before. Like you were a stranger that caught his eye in the mall. Like a gemstone he'd found while digging the ground. Like a precious falling star on a cloudy night.

"I-I mean we have known each other for sometime now. It's normal that you like me. As a friend." He stammers.

You roll your eyes , " I did not mean as a friend ,you idiot. I meant I like you as a man. You're so stupid, gosh." You punch his arm.

His heart skips a beat. He'd always known deep down his heart that this confession would happen one day or the other - but he had always hoped it would be him to say it first ,not you. His ego is a teeny tiny bit hurt.

"I know you don't like me , " you whine , your excited tone now suddenly switching into a sad one , " I know you won't date me."

San frowns at this new melancholic side of yours.

"Why would you think that?" He asks.

"I just know ,okay?" You say ,tears filling your eyes , " And that's why I agreed to an arranged marriage."

"You must have met someone nice then?" He takes his hand in yours.

Jongho was right - you love him. So much that it hurts to look at him ,knowing that one day you'll have to marry a man who isn't him. It hurts like someone is pressing a hot metal rod onto your skin.

You start sobbing.

"No! Of course not ! I don't want anyone but you! " You yell , a little too loud , " But my parents are still insistent about it. How do I tell them that I can't marry anyone else because I'm so in love with you?"

That's another new piece of information for San. But this one makes his heart drop into the deepest pits of his stomach , making him go numb for a few seconds. You were almost taken away from him, just because he'd always put your relationship in a complicated situation. You had almost held someone else's hand on the alter. You had almost ended up in someone else's arms.

The image of you with another man nauseates him and he decides to stop being a coward . Right now ,right at this moment .

"I like you ,too, you idiot." He says , not quite meeting your teary eyes." Don't go find anyone else. I'm here. I really am ,y/n."

His sincere voice washes over you like the first showers of monsoon - refreshing and enchanting. You feel like melting into a puddle under his gaze.

"I wasn't planning on anyway. " You sniff and rub your tears away. He leans in closer to your face , rubbing your cheekbones with the pad of his thumb. And you , being the shameless person you are , stare at his kissable, pink lips. If you lean in a little more , they'd touch and you could finally kiss him. You really want to . Would he mind ?

He presses a soft kiss on your forehead , pulling you into his warm embrace.

"I want to go to sleep and wake up like this every morning." You mumble into his chest , your hand playing with the hem of his t-shirt. "We will. I promise." he replies. The thought itself makes him feel warm inside , "I'll talk to your parents about the arranged marriage thing. They love me more than they would any other guy out there."

Your parents in fact do love San. Whenever they met him , they'd be filled with praises for him. Although a little jealous , you could easily see why San was so easy to like.

"You smell so nice." You say abruptly , drowsiness slowly taking over you , your eye lids getting heavier by the minute.

San's chest vibrates as his laugh fills the room , "Thank you, y/n."

"Will you be here when I wake up? You aren't going to run off, right? " You are just spewing out random sentences at this point but he doesn't complain either way. He likes this honest and vulnerable side of you.

"I'll be right here. Don't worry. " he whispers ,running his fingers through your hair , "But I'm pretty sure you won't remember anything tomorrow ."

You laugh, a big hearty laugh as you finally find enough courage to lightly wrap your arm around his torso. "I'll remember, San . I never forget."

San rubs your head soothingly , smiling to himself, knowing that even if you forget about it in the morning , he'll really be there to remind you of it. He'll be there by your side, as he always has been.

Every hangover is like a cycle that includes pain , regret and a promise to never drink so much again yet you somehow always seem to be struggling with the last one.

And the inevitable headache that follows makes you feel like someone had thrusted millions of knives in your head.

It hurt. Badly.

You stir in your position ,groaning at your throbbing head.

"Woah , good morning , sleepy head." San purrs into your ears , his early morning voice sending chills down your spine.

Wait. San? Choi San? With you in his arms? On a bed?

You sit up at the speed of a lightning bolt , breaking away from his warm embrace and crawling to the farthest corner of the bed. You look around the room , your heartbeat in your throat , taking in the unfamiliar surroundings that reminded you of what you might have done while in a drunken state.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your eyes scan San, his sleepy face pressed to the pillow and his lips curved in a smile. His white t-shirt hangs loose from his shoulder, exposing the skin near his collarbone and his black, messy hair covering half of his face.

And even in panic mode , your first thought is that he looks ethereal with that early morning glow. Is this what being whipped really means?

"Y/n, don't tell me you forgot what happened last night. " he says ,visibly annoyed. He forces himself up in a sitting position as he runs his fingers through his messy hair.

You look away from him , adrenaline rushing through your veins as you try to recall last night's episode. Surely ,you didn't sleep with him since both of you are fully clothed and you didn't feel sore anywhere. Thankfully.

"Y/n? " he calls you again but you don't reply because your brain is way too occupied at the moment.

You remember the sound of a very weird combination of words leaving your mouth last night and an even weirder combination of words leaving his. And that's when it hits you - you had confessed to him. Full on movie style. All those years of daydreaming and trying to keep everything a secret gone into vain , your heart placed naked in front of him.

"Oh fucking hell." You hold your head in between your hands ,closing your eyes.

Maybe this was all a dream and if you focused hard enough ,you'd wake up in your bed , alone and yearning for the man supposedly in front of you. But that would still be better than this.

"Y/n, it's alright. You don't have to be embarrassed. " San says, inching closer to you.

You sigh. It's not a dream and you have to face him now.

"I-I'm sorry for whatever I said last night. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable at all. I don't know what had gotten into me." You say, rubbing your forehead.

By now , San is kneeling right in front of you, his galaxy filled eyes never leaving yours.

"I should be sorry , you idiot." He says , gently tapping your forehead ," if I wasn't such a coward and had confessed to you earlier , everything would have been different now. But better late than never , right?"

You gulp hard.

Now is the time to wake up , y/n, I'm going to be super pissed if this turns out to be a dream, you wonder to yourself.

"So..what you're saying is - "

"I like you , yes. Not as a friend , not as a classmate. I like you as a woman and if you agree to this ," San leans in dangerously closer , "Then I'll like you as a girlfriend, too."

You didn't need time to agree to this. You didn't need a second thought. You only need a small tug at your heartstring , which happened everytime you see his eyes focused on you and only you.

"Yes." You say.

His face breaks into a massive grin as he wraps his arms around you , with yours around his torso. You can feel the fast beating of his heart against your cheek as you snuggle into his chest .

"Thank you. Thank you so much." He whispers into your hair. Your cheeks are burning red by now but it's alright. It's a good type of burning. You can come to like it in the near future.

You don't know how long it is before he finally decides to pull away , much to your dismay.

"I'm going to make breakfast . Are pancakes okay with you?" He says , his arms by his side but his body still close to yours.

"Yeah. Obviously. " You loved his pancakes, as a matter of fact. Once, Jongho had even forced you to confess to San during your college years just so he could eat those delicious pancakes whenever he wanted to.

"Okay. You can go freshen up in the bathroom by then." He then unexpectedly takes your face in his hands , inching closer to yours with every passing second, " Don't miss me too much though."

You pout, playing along , " I already do."

And just like that , he presses his soft , luscious lips to yours, enveloping them in a quick kiss.

"Bye." And just like that too , he runs away into the kitchen , avoiding confronting what had just happened while you are left frozen and shocked and petrified and all synonyms of those words in the English dictionary.

But you hear him hum his favourite song softly from the kitchen and your shoulders relax.

Relax , y/n , you tell yourself , it's just San and he is your boyfriend now.

[jksangelic]

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot. 

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier​ get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.  

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

 Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

 Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak. 

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.  

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

 And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

 Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

 Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

 Part Six

 It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

 Part Seven

 After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

 Part Eight

 You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

 Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

 Final Part

 You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one. 

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it. 

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

❋ masterlist ❋

[rainy-day-gracie]

Old Friends 10

OMG IT’S HERE

THE FINALE TO OLD FRIENDS

This series will always hold a special place in my heart since it was the very first ever fic I ever wrote. Thank you guys so much for all of the positivity !! I LOVE YOU ALL AND ENJOY :)

Spencer Reid x Reader

Angst, MAJOR FLUFF 

MASTERLIST

__

It was the way my head was throbbing that finally woke me up. Spencer was tied to a chair across from me, not daring to say anything. He looked at me with concerned eyes, asking if I was okay. I gave him a small nod, and he seemed to relax a little. 

We were in an abandoned warehouse of some kind and rat traps littered the floor. “Hello?” I croaked out. 

Mrs. Lorretta came out from behind me and grabbed my face, studying it. Her thumb dug into my cheek, and I bit down on it, hard. 

She screamed out as I licked blood off my lip. “Oh, did I hurt you? I’m sorry.”

“You little bitch!” She shrieked at me, storming off somewhere behind me. Spencer just looked at me gravely. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled. 

“Couldn’t resist,” I whispered, and Spencer rolled his eyes. My hair was suddenly tugged back, and the barrel of a gun pressed into my temple. “Whoa, whoa. We can talk about this.”

“Not before you know your place, Agent.” Mr. Lorretta’s voice hissed in my ear, and Spencer fought relentlessly against his bonds, suddenly extremely panicked. “You hurt my wife, I’m going to hurt you.”

I turned my head ever so slightly, looking him in the eyes. “My team is going to hurt you, buddy. They’re coming for us, are you ready for when that happens?” My fear didn’t show at all in my voice. 

Mr. Lorretta just huffed and walked away, taking the gun with him. I let out a sigh of relief, restating my own words quietly as I heard him walking up some kind of staircase. “They’re coming for us…” Then I remembered something. “Spencer, where’s Lily?” 

The look in his eyes told me all I needed to know. 

Lily was dead. She knew too much, and that got her killed. 

Spencer moved his hands, and I realized he was signing to me. Get the wife, he told me. 

The wife must’ve not truly wanted to hurt Lily, and that would’ve caused a rift between them. She was our only way out of here, and I just nearly bit off her thumb. 

I gave him a thumbs up, telling him I understood. 

Now, he signed.

“Where’s Lily?” I called out, tilting my head back to whoever was behind me. 

Mrs. Lorretta stormed in front of me, grabbing my face with her hand. “Shut up right now or I will shoot you.”

“No you won’t. Your husband will, and he’ll just drag you along for the ride.” She let go of my face, staring at me angrily. Spencer subtly nodded at me behind her back. “I know you don’t want to kill anyone, Mrs. Lorretta.” 

She gave me an open handed slap across the face, tears in her eyes. “Shut up!” 

“Don’t touch her,” Spencer growled as I hunched to the side, bracing for another slap.

I looked Mrs. Lorretta in the eyes as I regained composure. “Think about Lily-” another hit “-she wouldn’t have wanted this-” another hit “-please!”

Mrs. Lorretta looked at me angrily, tears forming in her eyes. “I just wanted to be the perfect mother, and now both my girls are dead,” she whispered. 

“No one else has to die, Mrs. Lorretta.” I showed her a side of me that’s vulnerable, a side of me no one sees. “I’ve had to kill some of the most awful people, and I feel sick about it. I can’t imagine how you must feel. But you can still do the right thing, Mrs. Lorretta.”

She wordlessly took out a knife, and I was scared for a moment she had decided to kill us now. That moment subsided when she started cutting the bonds at my wrists and ankles binding me to the chair.

Spencer gave me a look of relief and signed with his hands. Good job. 

I smiled at him when Mrs. Lorretta cut my final bond, and Spencer looked to her, expecting her to cut his bonds as well. I cautiously stood, facing Mrs. Lorretta. 

She gave me a sad smile, tears flowing down her eyes. “You look so much like Jamie…” she breathed, seeming to be in a daze. 

I had to cover my mouth from screaming as she shoved the knife into her own neck. 

Running over to Spencer, I quickly untied his bonds before the metallic scent of blood completely filled the room. He stood wordlessly and dragged my hand to the staircase to get out of this godforsaken warehouse. 

We ran up the stairs, me barely keeping up with his long legs, and ducked behind crates when we saw Mr. Lorretta looking from across the warehouse curiously. “Honey, everything okay?”

We barely breathed, sure that he could hear the sounds of our pounding hearts. His footsteps were careful, and the sound of a safety being clicked off made my blood run cold. 

We scattered from the stack of crates as he fired the first shot at us, getting separated in the process.

I found another dusty stack of crates to hide behind, seeing Spencer duck behind a column. 

“Come out, come out wherever you are Agents,” Mr. Lorretta drawled. My heart sank as he moved closer to Spencer, and I ducked closer to him. 

“It doesn’t matter if I’ll go to prison. I’m too good for that, and with my resources I’ll be able to get a deal easily.” Mr. Lorretta taunted us, creeping around the cluttered warehouse. 

He laughed suddenly. “Dr. Reid is it? Do you like working for the FBI? Get scared sometimes?”

Chills went up my spine as Mr. Lorretta continued taunting Spencer. 

“I would be scared too… if my bitch was also my partner in the field.”

Spencer leaped behind Mr. Lorretta, pulling both of Mr. Lorretta’s arms back. 

Time seemed to slow when the gun went off as they both fell to the floor. I ran out from behind my hiding spot and grabbed the gun that had slid across the floor. Mr. Lorretta got to his feet to run at me, and I fired the gun twice Once in his chest and the other in his head. 

I was already running over to Spencer before Mr. Lorretta fell limp to the floor. Blood was seeping out of Spencer’s stomach, and I ripped off my blazer to stifle the flow. 

“I told you we should’ve taken a sick day,” Spencer mumbled. 

I laughed despite it all, tears pricking my eyes. “I should’ve taken you up on that offer.” I heard a door being kicked in and the familiar voices of our family calling our names. “Over here! We need medical, federal agent down!” 

I seemed to be in a daze when Morgan and Prentiss pulled me off of Spencer, they were saying words but all I could focus on was the way the cold floor turned red with Spencer’s blood. 

“Please, come back to me Spencer. There’s still so much more for us.” 

__

I’ve always hated hospitals, but never as much as I do right now. Prentiss and JJ had helped me wash off Spencer’s blood, but they couldn’t erase the images of his pale face from my mind. 

My foot tapped incessantly in the waiting room, my palms sweating in the hours of waiting for any news of Spencer. 

Rossi held my hand firmly, and I gripped it like a lifeline. Nobody spoke, what was there to say?

“It’s my fault.” I mumbled, not realizing anyone could hear me. 

“Don’t say that.” Rossi gripped my hand harder, getting me to look at him. “This is not your fault.”

“Lorretta insulted me… Spencer got angry and reacted… that’s what got him shot.” I kept replaying Lorretta’s words in my head.

I would be scared too… if my bitch was also my partner in the field. 

Rossi shook his head. “Don’t do that kiddo. Reid saw an opportunity to get him and it backfired. Don’t make something Reid chose to do somehow your fault.”

A doctor walked into the waiting room. “Dr. Reid.” We all stood, holding our breath for the results. “It was a close call, touch and go for a while, but we managed to stop the bleeding from his stomach. And who is YFN?”

I released a deep breath. “That’s me.”

“He’s been asking for you. He’s still slightly delirious, but he has been wondering where you are. Says he misses you.”

I smiled, tears streaming down my cheeks. “May I see him?”

The doctor nodded, guiding me to Spencer’s room. 

He looked so happy when I walked in the room, but also heavily drugged with painkillers. “YFN… you look like a goddess.”

I chuckled and sat gently on the end of his bed. “Hey, pretty boy. I was really scared.”

Spencer offered me his hand, and I took it, not wanting him to strain himself. After a moment he fell asleep, and I took the chair next to the bed, letting him rest for as long as he needed. 

Looking at him, wounded and on heavy painkillers, I knew what I needed to do.

__

Spencer was checked out of the hospital a week later on the insistence that he needed to go back to work. 

I took some personal time, which Hotch graciously gave. 

We spent our days being lazy around Spencer’s apartment, reading different books and watching Doctor Who religiously. 

I was dozing off on Spencer’s shoulder one night when he hit me with a bombshell. “I know you’re not coming back to the BAU.” 

I sat straight up, looking him in the eyes. “Why do you say that?”

Spencer gave me a small half smile. “Because when Lorretta insulted you, I was impulsive, and you don’t want me to do something like that again because of my feelings for you.”

Damn, I sometimes forgot he was a profiler. “I can’t have that on my mind constantly in the field, worrying about you or me making a bad call because of personal feelings. Also…” 

“You want to teach.” Spencer finished my sentence, a sparkle lighting up his eyes. “You don’t want to be looking at crime scene photos all day, and I understand that. Whatever you do, I will support you.”

I smiled at him, tears pricking my eyes. “I was thinking of teaching a language at Georgetown, or maybe some form of mathematics. I’ve already told Hotch, but I want to stay in the city. With you.”

“I love you, and I will do anything to make you happy, YFN.” Spencer stood up, pulling me by my hands to stand with him. After a moment, he ran off into his bedroom, seemingly looking for something. When he returned, a small black box was tucked into his hand, and he seemed much more nervous than before. Spencer sank to one knee, and the tears really started streaming down my face this time. He took a deep breath, staring into my eyes deeply. 

“I bought this about a week after we started dating… the more recent time.” I giggled, watching his sheepish face become full of love. “After everything we’ve been through together since we were 16… I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. YFN YLN, will you marry me?”

It took about two seconds for me to make my decision. “Yes, definitely yes.”

__

If there was one thing Rossi knew how to do, it was throw a party. 

It had been three days since Spencer and I had gotten engaged, and word had also spread to the team about me leaving the BAU.

We sat around a large table in Rossi’s backyard, telling stories, laughing, and sometimes crying. When we moved to the makeshift dance floor Rossi had set up, JJ, Garcia, Prentiss and I all swayed in a tight circle, crying and laughing. 

“We will forever miss your badassery!” Garcia rested her head on my shoulder, tears streaming down her face. 

“I’ll still be around!” I assured her. “I’m still going to be at every ladies’ night you guys invite me to, and I’m marrying Spencer! You can bet he’s not going anywhere!” 

JJ laughed, tears also pricking her eyes. “The geniuses are getting married!” 

“You can definitely bet that you are invited to every ladies’ night!” Prentiss hugged me with one arm, a glass of champagne in her hand. 

A strong hand touched my shoulder, and I turned to Morgan. “Oh, Derek, don’t start crying on me too!”

He chuckled and pulled me into a hug. “Not a chance. I’m looking forward to you not constantly making me look unimpressive.” 

I grinned even wider if that was possible. “I never tried to make you look unimpressive. It just kind of happened. I’m just that awesome.”

Derek laughed and Rossi appeared beside him, kissing me on both cheeks.

“Questo bellissimo capitolo termina, al prossimo!” Rossi yelled in Italian, handing me another glass of champagne. 

Hotch pulled me in for a short but meaningful hug. “Congratulations, you two will forever hold on to each other. I can see it.”

I smiled, tears once again filling my eyes. “Thank you, Aaron. That really means a lot, coming from you.”

A hand fell comfortably on my back, and I knew Spencer was behind me. I turned and looked into his coffee brown eyes, the eyes I fell in love with when I was 19, and the same eyes that found their way back into my heart. 

We danced together for hours, whispering to each other on the dance floor about anything and everything. 

“I can’t wait for a life like this. It won’t be easy, but we’re prepared for that. I love you so much, YFN.”

“I love you too, Spencer.”

Questo bellissimo capitolo termina, al prossimo!

This beautiful chapter ends, onto the next!

TAG LIST: @itsarayofsunshine @thesailbells @squirrellover1967 @softpeteparker @parkeroffline

[candyshua]

To Live a Life of Happiness {Choi Seungcheol x Reader}

genre: heavy angst, some fluff, drama

synopsis: you move to daegu from seoul, in search of some form of independence before your inevitable fate plays out. there, you meet choi seungcheol, a confused and lonely boy who didn’t know how to deal with the love you gave him.

pairing: seungcheol x female reader

warnings: emotional and physical abuse, trauma, death during childbirth, cancer, & one makeout scene (non descriptive)

word count: 6,461

a/n: i’m not too proud of this, seeing as i wrote a lot of it while high. but i just need to post something!! 

If there was one thing Seungcheol knew about his life, it was that he was painfully and utterly alone.

As a child, he would play by himself. The other kids looked at him with fear, since false rumors surrounded his name. Whenever the word “Seungcheol” was uttered, an untrue tale would soon be told about the poor boy.

He would go home to a quaint apartment every afternoon. When Seungcheol would first walk through the door, his father could be heard releasing a sigh of frustration. After a while, the sharp pain of never being enough turned into a dull ache. He just learned to live with it.

Barely.

He wouldn’t dare to ask his dad what was for dinner. Truth be told, the boy usually made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich every night. His father would never make food for him.

Seungcheol didn’t deserve his father’s love, he knew that. He knew that there was something wrong with the people that cared for him.

“You know, Seungcheol,” His dad would say, “you shouldn’t trust anyone that says they love you. They’re lying, you know that, right? No one could ever love you.”

“Of course,” Seungcheol meekly whispered, “it’s just not possible.”

The days would drag on like that. Empty, mind-numbing days where he would feel nothing but pure self-hatred and guilt. The days turned into weeks, which turned into months, then years. Those hurtful emotions just became a part of Seungcheol’s daily life. He got better at providing for himself, as his father seemed to wither away. 

He had to feel the pain. If he were feeling anything remotely close to pleasure, he would just know that he didn’t deserve it.

He had survived all the way up until the age of seventeen that way. At that rate, he would die just the same way he lived—quietly and slowly.

But then, of course, you happened.

You were the new kid. You came in the middle of November, having missed a lot of the school year. It was typical of you, to arrive at the worst time.

You attracted everybody’s eyes the moment you stepped foot into the classroom. Even Seungcheol found himself staring at you. You elicited a pure kind of beauty, one that was enticing and tranquil.

“Ah, yes, Y/N! Please introduce yourself.” The teacher, Mr. Kim, suggested. You nodded, radiating with nothing but pure confidence.

Seungcheol didn’t know what that felt like, but he could recognize it. The way your dewy skin glowed, the way your smile was so damn charming, and the way you stood so proudly. It was truly admirable.

“Hey everyone! I’m Y/L/N Y/F/N, I’m from Seoul, and I really like to draw!” 

Seungcheol couldn’t help but crack a small grin at your enthusiasm. But, that grin soon morphed into a frown of terror when you sat down next to him. With wide eyes, Seungcheol stared straight ahead, looking at anything else but you. You and your beautiful smile, one that immediately grasped the attention of everyone else around you. Soon, you were being swarmed by the other students, them asking you questions you had no trouble answering. You were mesmerizing—how did you just answer them? Like it was nothing? How did you not freeze up with pure terror?

The day continued on like that. People were fascinated with you, the girl from the big city of Seoul. Seungcheol thought he could feel your gaze on him every so often, but he was much too timid to see if his intuition were true. Instead, he decided to continue reading his Korean History textbook, secretly praying that he could fast-forward to the end of that day.

At lunch, you managed to become even more of a confusing person to Seungcheol. The large cafeteria left room for many tables, and Seungcheol naturally chose the one that was most isolated. Every afternoon, he would stick his earbuds in and shuffle Radiohead on his phone, sitting all by himself.

And, for whatever reason, you decided to sit next to him on that day. Seungcheol wouldn’t render the fact that you would forever change his life from that point on for a long time after that. In fact, all Seungcheol felt in that pivotal moment was fear. Why were you sitting next to him? Were you going to torment him? Did he do something wrong?

Contrary to Seungcheol’s fears, you did quite the opposite.

“Hey,” You began with a genuine smile on your face, “you’re Seungcheol, right?”

He froze up. He had no other choice! How could he not? 

“H-how do you know my name?” Seungcheol managed to say. What a great first impression.

“Mr. Kim told me to sit next to you, and he mentioned your name when he told me. Sorry if that scared you!” You explained. There was something off in your explanation, though. It was the apology—it seemed too authentic. Like you were actually sorry. It didn’t sit right with him.

“Oh.” 

You giggled. And, for a moment, everything seemed right in the world. It was as if your melodic laugh ripped the weight off of Seungcheol’s shoulders, even for a brief amount of time. Your laugh was strange, but it made him feel oddly free and unburdened. It almost felt like everything was going to be okay.

Seungcheol’s eyes blinked in your direction. Even if he wholeheartedly adored your laugh, he was wondering what caused you to do so.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

He shook his head, his voluminous black hair shaking along with it. To you, Seungcheol was quite handsome. His doe-like brown eyes were quite refreshing, for some reason.

“So, you like Radiohead?”

“What?” Seungcheol gasped. You knew about Radiohead?

“I love Radiohead. They’re an amazing band!” You continued, rendering the poor boy speechless. Cool—you were so damn cool. Like the coolest person alive. You were confident, pretty, outgoing, and you fucking listened to Radiohead!

“Am I really playing it that loud?” Seungcheol laughed nervously. You nodded, but your expression was nonchalant. Unbothered. In fact, you seemed to welcome it.

“I’m not complaining!”

“Um,” Seungcheol began with his heart in his throat, “do you wanna listen? With me?”

The two seconds you took to “contemplate” his request felt like two hours. But, even though it was only two seconds, Seungcheol took in your entire appearance. You were undeniably beautiful, your eyes sparkly and your lips pursed with a playful kind of curiosity.

“I’d love to.”

So, he gave you one of the wires of his earbuds, and you gladly started listening along with him. You hummed along to the current song, which was Ripcord. Seungcheol stared at you, you who seemed so tranquil yet content in that simple moment. Your eyes were bright, and they looked at the world with such passion. Your smile was undeniably contagious, even if Seungcheol wanted to fight his own grin. Your posture was relaxed yet not hunched. 

Everything about you was so...free.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You scared Seungcheol in the best way possible. A week after the two of you listened to Radiohead together, you still continued to sit next to him during lunch every day. You even gathered the courage to ask him for his number, to which he eagerly obliged to give you.

Yet, Seungcheol couldn’t help but feel the fear of uncertainty clutch at his heart every

time you talked to him. Were you just messing with him? Why were you being so damn kind? He didn’t deserve it—any of it. He didn’t deserve your unprecedented kindness or your cheesy jokes.

When were you going to leave, just like everyone else? Or turn on him? Seungcheol wanted you to do it as soon as possible, so he wouldn’t get too attached. It would make everything easier if you just hated him, like the rest.

But that’s the thing—you only seemed to like him more every day. And it scared the shit out of him. He had been told his entire life that he couldn’t trust anyone who told him that they loved him.

So why did he so willingly open his heart to you?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been about a month since you’d come to Daegu, all the way from Seoul. December finally rolled around, making the weather drop dramatically. You loved the cold, for some reason. You flourished in the cold, in fact. The feeling of the frosty air against your skin just made everything better.

So, why were you so damn hot? It was December, and there you were, with Choi Seungcheol, in the art room at your current school. Your last class had already ended about an hour ago, but you asked Seungcheol to help you out with something in the art room. He happily helped, even if he tried to mask his joy with indifference. You couldn’t quite figure him out, but it’s not like he was some puzzle. He was a human being, but he was unlike any other person you had ever met. And you loved that.

Seungcheol was a breath of fresh air. Amid the chaos of your life, being able to talk to someone so tranquil and laid back was lovely. Even if you knew how things would end for you, and he did not, you still wanted to enjoy your adolescence. It was all you were ever going to have, anyway.

“So, what did you need my help with?” He nervously asked, coaxing a giggle out of you. He was so damn cute.

You walked over to a set of shelves, filled with various types of drawings and sculptures. Of course, the one you wanted to show him was on the top shelf. You jumped up and flailed your arms and tried to grab it, but it was no use.

Seungcheol snuck up on you like a cheetah to its prey, yet with no malicious intent. That boy was just so damn quiet. You froze when you felt his breath fan against your neck. He effortlessly reached up from behind you and grabbed the single drawing you were aiming for with ease. And, during that brief moment, your body temperature felt like it was raised by ten degrees. He handed you the paper, not even looking at what you drew. He just gave it to you, while wearing that stupid yet adorable smile of his. He didn’t even register the fact that he made you nervous on his radar. You didn’t know if you were grateful for that or not.

You finally managed to sputter a shy “thank you” and turned away, your cheeks reddened beyond belief. Then came the hard part, even if what you had just gone through nearly gave you a heart attack.

Seungcheol noticed your change in aura the moment you gave him the drawing you made. You, who was usually so damn confident and sure of herself, looked absolutely and utterly uncertain. And, before Seungcheol could even register that you had made that drawing for him, he came to a pivotal realization.

You were a human, just like him. You weren’t an angel, nor any other non-worldly being. You were mortal, and you got nervous just like him and everybody else on the planet. And, somehow, that made him feel ten times better. You weren’t perfect—good. That was good. He still liked you anyway.

Finally, Seungcheol looked down at the drawing. His eyes widened immediately. Shock rippled through his entire being, all the way to his core. But it wasn’t the type of shock that made him feel miserable, it was a type of shock that made him change the way he thought. Because, you had drawn him so wonderfully. It was simply him, sitting down on a lunch table, with his earbuds in. You had captured everything about Seungcheol so accurately, to the point where it made him feel like someone had taken a picture. The feeling was...lovely. Someone drew him. You drew him. And it was extraordinary.

You, who was so beautiful and passionate, you had put effort into making something for him. And he felt like the first time he heard you laugh—unburdened. Joyous. Like he could do anything. Like the world wasn’t so bad after all. 

Seungcheol didn’t realize he was crying until you had cupped his face and wiped his tears away. 

“Thank you,” He whispered, “from the bottom of my heart. Thank you.”

You smiled, feeling all of your nerves start to float away. He loved it, and you could tell from the moment he first laid eyes on the piece. 

That was why you liked to draw. Because it could bring some love into the world, even if the amount was small and seemingly insignificant. But, you still managed to make someone smile that day. You made someone feel important and loved. It didn’t matter if it was only one person, because that was all you wanted anyway. If you could just make one person’s life a little bit brighter, then you had fulfilled your purpose.

In spite of his tears, Seungcheol looked the happiest you had ever seen him. And it made your heart swell with an intense kind of affection, one that made you feel warm despite the freezing temperature outside.

“Come on,” You laughed, “let’s go get hot chocolate or something.” 

Seungcheol nodded, and he chuckled nervously. His voice was a bit cracked due to his crying, but you could tell that he was being genuine.

“That sounds wonderful.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Life was so damn unfair.

The doctor’s words rang through your ears unforgivingly, and you wanted nothing else but to scream at him. And everyone else in the world. You wanted to scream at whatever made you have to succumb to such a terrible fate. 

“I’m afraid to say you don’t have much time left.” 

You scoffed at those earth-shattering words.

“Fuck you.” You whispered to no one in particular. You were walking down the sidewalks of Daegu, passing through the crowd with anger in your heart. No one knew you. People could merely walk by you, look you in the eye, and then move on with their lives. Fuck them. They get to move on! They get to go and live their fucking lives!

And you? You get to die in six months. Maybe a few more if you’re lucky.

Tears are silently cascading down your face at that point, and there was no sign of them stopping. Your pace quickened, and your eyes were glued to the ground. Maybe, if you ignored everything for long enough, you could escape to a different reality. One where you weren’t destined to die as a teenager.

Alas, nothing like that happened. In fact, your day took a surprising turn. What was supposed to be a lonely Wednesday during winter break turned into one you would spend with Seungcheol, seeing as you had bumped into him on the pavement. Your brisk pace and inattentive eyes were your downfall. Seungcheol’s head was in the clouds, and the moment he registered the fact that you were going to crash into him, it was already much too late.

Afterwards, you backed up and wiped your tears. Your eyes met Seungcheol’s chocolate brown ones, and for a moment, you forgot the previous events of the day. You couldn’t help but smile, even if it was just for a bit.

“Y/N?” He croaked, fear thick in his tone. He was worried, since it was quite evident that you had been crying.

“Hey…” You sighed, scratching the back of your neck nervously. Reality had come back with an overpowering force, and you couldn’t contain the embarrassment you felt.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” His response was immediate.

Woah. Did Seungcheol just call you out? When did he become assertive?

Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol was equally surprised with himself. What had compelled him to be so aggressive? Maybe it’s because of you. If it had been anybody else, he wouldn’t have pushed so hard. But he cared about you. So much. And, he didn’t want you to pretend to be okay. Hell—he was being a hypocrite. He pretended to be okay around you, too. But maybe that could change.

It was the afternoon before Christmas Eve. Usually, you would spend Christmas with your parents, but you had left them behind in Seoul. Once you found out your impending doom, your first wish was to leave Seoul and live independently for a while, since you never experienced something so monumental.

You wouldn’t ever experience a lot of things, would you?

The tears came back in an even stronger wave. Before you could stop him, Seungcheol had grabbed your wrist and pulled you to where he came from, which was his apartment complex. The two of you were previously standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and it had started to overwhelm the both of you.

And, with your wrist in his hand, the two of you ran to Seungcheol’s apartment. You could smell the frost in the air, and you felt alive. Because you were—you were alive. And you wouldn’t be for long.

So stop wallowing in your own self-pity! Make the most of it!

Your eyes flitted to Seungcheol’s face. His entire expression screamed “worried”. He seemed to pick up pace the closer the two of you got, which made it much harder for you to keep up with. But you did.

And you couldn’t help but realize how damn handsome he was. From the first day you had met him, he had enticed you. He was adorable, yet loving and kind. And you liked him. A lot.

So, you stopped dead in your tracks. Seungcheol, confused, looked at you with concerned eyes. Before he could say anything, you grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled him close to you. And then you were kissing—and it felt just like you thought it would. Right. It felt right.

It had taken Seungcheol a few seconds to realize what was happening. Then, he had kissed you back with just as much passion. God, why didn’t you do this sooner? 

His large hands cupped your face, and soon the two of you were full-on making out in front of his apartment complex. It got heated. Fast. And, suddenly, the deadly-cold air wasn’t cold enough to cool you off.

Finally, Seungcheol pulled away with a dazed expression. You gave him a shy yet snide smile.

“Well, um, that was...yeah.” He sputtered.

“You’ve got such a way with words.”

“Yeah, well, you fucking scared me, alright? Like, what the hell? You just—you just kissed me! Me! You kissed me!”

“I know.” You had to fight back your laughter.

“Well...um, why?”

“Because I like you, why else?”

Seungcheol’s frustration was oddly endearing to you. You couldn’t help the large smile that played at your swollen lips.

“But, you were crying! Why?”

You sighed. Suddenly, the smile on your face disappeared into a troubled frown. Seungcheol noticed your entire change in demeanor. He stepped closer, his confused nature being overshadowed by his concern.

“What’s wrong?” He continued. Tears started to fall from your eyes again. It was all so real—too real. You were dying. You were going to die, and there was nothing anybody in the world could do about it.

You jumped into Seungcheol’s arms, violently sobbing into the crook of his neck.

“Six months,” You began through cries, “I only have six months left to live. I thought I had more...I was doing so good.”

Shock. That’s all Seungcheol could feel when those words of poison fell from your mouth. This type of shock was unwelcomed. It wasn’t like what he felt when you showed him your drawing. No, this type of shock was suffocating. He wanted to break this shock, or wake up from it. Because what you said just couldn’t be real! It couldn’t be…

But it was.

“What?” Seungcheol croaked. You had pulled away from his frigid embrace, and you stared into his eyes. They were blown out with fear. It seemed as if he had not even considered denial. No, he knew that it was real. That’s why he looked so damn broken. Like a little kid.

And, selfishly, Seungcheol thought, of course. Of course you’re going to die.

Because the people who cared for him never stayed. He should have known—he should have fucking known!

But then, he felt utterly disgusted with himself. How dare he try to spin your fate into a problem of his own? The urge to vomit intensified.

“I have an inoperable brain tumor.” You confessed, your voice raw and broken. 

Seungcheol began to cry, even more than you did. Because, oh god, he loved you. He loved you. And you had not known each other for long, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t fight the unbreakable feelings he had for you. So, after a little while, he swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath.

“Okay.” He stated plainly.

“What? ‘Okay’?”

“Yeah. Okay. I just have to accept it.”

Your look of confusion only got more intense.

“So, Y/N, what are you doing for Christmas?”

You scoffed. You knew exactly where he was going with that, but you couldn’t help but grin.

“Spending it with you?” You asked. A sad smile played at your lips.

“Spending it with me.” He answered.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Christmas rolled around rather quickly. You had been already planning on getting Seungcheol a present, which was another drawing. However, it was of the both of you that time. It was based off of a selfie you took during the middle of lunch. He was simply reading a book in the picture, the wires of his earbuds connecting the two of you. And, there you were, making a peace sign and smiling boldly. You had perfected the drawing down to every last detail; wanting to impress Seungcheol was something you desired greatly. 

Finally, Seungcheol arrived at your apartment, a wrapped gift in hand. When your eyes met his, which were full of apprehension and anxiety, a smile melted across your face. And you felt it—that intense feeling of affection. One that you had never experienced before. It surged through you, from the bottom of your body up to your throat, taking your breath away. 

“Come in.” You grinned.

He awkwardly stepped in, sliding his shoes off and on a pair of slippers. 

And that’s when you noticed it—his black eye. It was swollen and made you grit your teeth upon first sight. A gasp fell from your lips, and you instinctively reached out for it, grazing your fingers on his skin slightly.

He stood frozen still. 

“What happened?” You croaked. Seungcheol tensed up even more. Then the tears just fell, and they kept coming. Soon, the two of you were on your couch, Seungcheol sobbing into the crook of your neck.

You stroked his hair, silently comforting him. After a while, he finally managed to speak up.

“My f-father...did this to me.”

Your eyes went dark with anger. And soon the rage from the initial shock amplified immensely. But so did the pain in your aching heart.

“Has he done this before?”

Seungcheol shook his head. It dawned on you—Seungcheol knew so much about you, but you couldn’t say the same for him. His life had remained a mystery to you, and you couldn’t help but feel as if his silence was intentional. 

“Why?” You exasperated, your voice going raw. Then, tears cascaded down your face just like Seungcheol.

“He...he thought I was leaving him and my mom behind for Christmas.”

“What did your mom say?”

“Nothing,” Seungcheol began, “she’s dead.”

Oh. Your crying intensified. 

“My dad...is not well. But he refuses to go to the hospital. I think...I think he just doesn’t like Christmas. My mom died around this time a year. I don’t remember her, though.”

You swallowed the next onslaught of sobs. You finally detached yourself from Seungcheol’s grasp, and soon your expression became livid, yet worried.

“You don’t have to tell me more…”

His eyes lightened, even if just for a bit.

“I want to…” He shyly confessed, breaking eye contact. Your silence invited him to continue.

“My mom died giving birth to me. She had preeclampsia, and when she was giving birth, she had to choose whether to save herself or me. She chose me.”

Seungcheol’s eyes watered with tears again.

“It’s all my fault, Y/N,” He cried, “he hates me so much. Everyone does.”

Anger had overtaken you. How could he not see? He was such an amazing person! You couldn’t hold in the words anymore, you just had to tell him.

“I love you!” You screamed.

Time froze for a second. Almost as if the expression of shock on his face made everything cease to exist.. Seungcheol tensed up and incessantly shook his head.

“No, you don’t. You can’t…”

“Your father...he’s just looking for someone to blame. Just like I am. Just like my parents will and just like you will after I’m gone. But we all need to realize that there is just simply no one to blame!”

“You’re wrong! It’s my fault, it’s all my fucking f—”

“Your father is wrong. He’s wrong because I love you. He’s wrong because you made me look forward to the rest of the time I have left!”

Seungcheol’s tears stopped. He stood eerily still after your impactful worlds, concerningly so.

He finally looked up to you, his brown eyes painfully staring into yours.

“What?” He mustered.

“Seungcheol, I’m dying. I have no time to hate myself or the world around me. I have no time to blame anyone. My life just happened to turn out like this. I’m going to die young...and I’m so fucking scared. But you know what?”

“Y/N, I—”

“You fuckin’ know what, Seungcheol? I’m not dead yet. I’m breathing, I’m thinking, I’m moving, I’m existing! And I don’t want to live the rest of the short amount of time I have left in fear. So I choose to be with you. To live with you.”

A long silence followed.

Then, he took a deep breath, held it in for ten seconds, and let it out. He got out his present for you.

“Open it.” 

Your eyes scanned the disorderly wrapping, which made you scoff lightly. Finally, you started to tear at the paper, anxiety building with each rip.

Then you smiled.

He got you a CD player, along with the disk of “Pablo Honey” by Radiohead. That album had “Ripcord” on it, the song that played the first time you both talked.

“I love it,” You grinned, “thank you.”

Soon, he had opened your present, and he smiled like a complete idiot. And you relished in that fact. 

Later on, after the tension had disappeared from the air, the two of you sat on your couch watching TV. Your phone, which was in the kitchen, had started to ring.

You ran to it as Seungcheol had paused the television. And he couldn’t help but hear your voice and just how it slightly changed when you picked up the phone.

“Hey Mom and Dad, Merry Christmas!” You greeted. Your face fell after a few more seconds, but your false cheery tone didn’t fade away.

“Yeah, I’m doing great right now. I actually have a friend over! His name is Seungcheol.” And then some incoherent rambling was heard on the other line, something he couldn’t quite make out.

“Alright, bye! Talk to you tomorrow. Love you guys!”

You set your phone down on the counter, and Seungcheol couldn’t help but train his eyes onto you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“It sucks,” You began with a sad smile, “having to pretend to be okay. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he defeatedly replied, “it sucks.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A mutual understanding was developed between you two. One that acknowledged both of your feelings and situations.

You both loved each other. But neither of you knew exactly what to do with that fact.

Finally, winter started to end. The New Year came and went, and you went home to Seoul, celebrating it with your parents. During his time alone with his father, Seungcheol finally took him to the doctors. He had been prescribed many different medications, ones that Seungcheol had to monitor.

One March evening, where the breeze was lovely and not too cold, Seungcheol walked through the streets of Daegu. And he was just thinking. 

With his hands in his pockets, his mind uncontrollably wandered to you. Your smile, your laugh, and your inevitable fate. A suffocating ache soon took a hold of his heart, encasing it mercilessly. How much time did he have until you left him?

When would he be alone again?

When would the days continue to be meaningless endeavors, that dragged on purposelessly?

When would his world come crashing down?

Just when he was about to fall apart, to overflow, your voice was heard among the night.

“Cheol?” You called out. He didn’t realize he was walking past your apartment complex until then. Coincidentally, you had been taking out the trash. He took long strides to you, his gaze intense.

“I’m so scared.” The sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes said everything you needed to know.

“Me too.” You morosely grin, a faraway look in your eyes.

“I wanna be with you.”

“I wanna be with you, too.” The intensity in your eyes matched Seungcheol’s. 

“We should stop wasting our time, right?” You sheepishly question. He nods solemnly. A few moments of silence pass.

“This means you’re my girlfriend now, right?” He asks. You cannot contain the initial reaction to giggle.

“Yes, that’s what it means.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You start getting visibly worse around the beginning of April. You missed school a lot, due to painful migraines and overall weakness. Seungcheol, at first, pretended not to notice. But it got to a point where beating around the bush got neither of you anywhere.

He started to miss school too. Just so he could spend the day by your side, listening to Radiohead and fooling around.

Although you were physically deteriorating, the spark of confidence in your eyes never disappeared. It didn’t even flicker with doubt. You were a fighter, that’s for sure.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol began on a day the both of you skipped school, “I have a question.”

You, who was snuggled up against him underneath a blanket, watching reruns of “The Office”, adjusted your body a bit.

“Shoot.”

“How are you so confident?”

A helpless smile spread across your lips. 

“I’m not, I just want others to think I am.” You confessed

“Oh.” Seungcheol muttered. And then it hit him—wow—you were damn good at pretending. 

“Cheol, you think everyone else except you has their shit together, don’t you?”

He nodded.

“Well, they don’t. Nobody knows what the hell they’re doing, alright? We’re all pretending that we do, though. So that no one will ever know the truth.”

His eyes, which only seemingly got deeper and easier to lose yourself in by the second, bored into yours.

“You’re so cool, Y/N.”

You lean in and give him a brief kiss, smiling into it.

“I know.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Who’s that one girl you’re always hanging out with?” Seungcheol’s father interrogated. He was making dinner for himself, his dad sitting on the couch flipping through television channels.

Oh, Seungcheol thought, he noticed?

“My girlfriend.” He responded, not finding any use in lying. 

His father turned the TV off.

“What?”

“She’s my girlfriend, Dad.”

“You sure she’s not using you? You know, you’re not exactly the most lovable—”

“Dad?” Seungcheol interrupted.

“Yes?” He responded, his tone gruff and short.

“Do you still feel the need to blame me?” Seungcheol blurted, his eyes squeezed shut out of fear. He felt like bile was going to pour out of his mouth in an instant. Anxiety surrounded him like he was the eye of a hurricane.

“What did you say?” 

Despite feeling nothing but pure, unfiltered fear, Seungcheol persisted.

“Do you still need to blame me? For what happened to Mom? It’s been seventeen years, Dad. It’s no one’s fault—”

“You shut your mouth—”

“Please, Dad. She’s dead! She’s not gonna come back…”

Seungcheol soon found himself crying, images of you prominent in his head.

“She’s not gonna come back.” He repeated, that time to himself. 

His eyes flitted toward the digital clock under the TV. It read 10:38 PM, on a Thursday night during early May. Your time together was running out.

 “And there’s no one to blame, even if I want there to be someone, there just isn’t. I’m...I’m gonna miss her so much.”

“What?”

Seungcheol shook himself out of it, refocusing his attention back onto his father. 

“Do you think Mom wanted you to treat me like this? Is this what she died for?”

He doesn’t give his dad the time to answer, for Seungcheol grabbed his keys and phone, and stormed out of the apartment.

He wanted to see you, so badly.

He dialed your number into his phone, the lovely breeze of the May evening kissing his skin. But there’s no answer.

So he called again. And again.

Soon, he was running to where your apartment complex was, his lungs burning. And the anxiety he felt was quite prominent, achingly so. No. He wanted to see you.

He needed to see you.

Seungcheol finally arrived at the apartment complex, and he used the keys you gave him to get in. He tried to wait for an elevator to come and get him, but he deemed it as “too slow” and sprinted up the stairs instead.

Please be okay.

The nervous boy fumbled with the key while trying to unlock your door. Finally, he weaseled his way into your apartment, tears uncontrollably cascading down his cheeks. 

“Y/N!” He screamed. Soon, he was able to hear running water.

You were just taking a shower.

“Cheol?”

“Yeah, it’s me…” He panted, hunched over. You quickly got dressed and ran out.

“Are you okay?” You worriedly asked when your eyes met his.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine. Just got a bit worried, that’s all.” He scratched the back of his neck, almost like he was ashamed.

You knew why he was with you. 

Tears started to well up in your eyes, guilt washing over you so much you could drown in it.

“I’m sorry…” You croaked.

“What?” Seungcheol questioned, surprised at your sudden change in demeanor.

“I...I won’t be by your side for much longer. I’m...so sorry!”

You began to wail uncontrollably. Seungcheol just simply held you in his arms, reassuring you every few minutes. But it was to no use—what you said was true. Your body was starting to wilt away.

“Don’t apologize,” he began with a sad glint in his brown eyes, “this is no one’s fault.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

June was in full bloom. The excruciating heat was prominent in the air just about every day. 

One night, you were overcome with fatigue. Plus, the pain in your head wasn’t subsiding, no matter how much Advil you took.

Your vision began to blur. It went in and out of focus, and you weren’t really looking at anything. Your eyelids grew heavier, and soon you just couldn’t keep them open anymore.

You knew what was happening.

For some reason, your mind replayed the first time you spoke to Seungcheol in your head. You could hear “Ripcord” so clearly, almost like it was being played at that exact moment. 

You watched his smile of shyness and uncertainty bloom into one of confidence and authenticity.

Seungcheol was...so nice.

Your arm extended out to the air in front of you, reaching for his face. It felt like he was right there, next to you. 

He wasn’t.

I guess this is it, you thought.

I hope...someone else can take care of Cheol.

The selfie you had taken of the both of you flashed in your mind. You hoped he still had the drawing of it—the one that you made.

“I love you, Cheol…”

His smile replayed in your mind.

“Thank you…”

His warm gaze comforted you.

“I hope...you let yourself be happy, Cheol.”

Your vision turned bright, and soon life left your body like a bird flying away, never to return.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been about four months since you died. Seungcheol graduated high school, and his plan was to study abroad in America.

He didn’t think he was going to return.

Nothing kept him rooted to Korea. In fact, he wanted to leave. His father was a shell of a human, and Seungcheol was afraid he was going to turn out just like him.

He continued to pack everything he needed, his mind elsewhere. But then the picture you drew of him was suddenly in his hands. It brought Seungcheol back to reality.

Like a closet door shut tight, Seungcheol kept everything he felt locked away. But he just broke at the sight of your lovely drawing of him.

He started to sob. His throat grew painfully dry, and his cries turned into silent gasps. 

“Where are you?” He screamed. He longed to see you more than anything else. But you were six feet under, and he was not. He was alive and breathing. Without you.

You’re not going to come back.

He was alone.

Seungcheol was alone.

Why had the world moved on? Your parents went back to work, and your classmates graduated and were going off to college.

Why was everyone else okay except him?

Seungcheol then remembered something you taught him.

Everyone’s just faking it. No one really knows what they’re doing.

He smiled forlornly. 

You loved him, and because of that, he wasn’t alone. If he carried your love with him everywhere he went, he would never truly be alone.

If there was one thing that Seungcheol knew about his life, it was that he knew nothing at all. And, for some reason, that felt okay.

All you wanted for Seungcheol was for him to live a life of happiness. He knew that.

So, that’s exactly what he would do. And, as the years passed by, happiness wasn’t such a foreign concept anymore.

Seungcheol didn’t have to deal with the ache of isolation, for that’s not how life is meant to be lived. 

Your melodic laugh reverberated throughout his mind. He smiled.

Everything would be okay.

[mybiasisexo]

Oh, Brother

Genre: Angst | Fluff | College!au 

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Length: 7.5k

Warning: Unfinished | Language | Love Triangle (I know, but hear me out!!)

Summary: You’ve finally started college and are getting the full freshman year teen romcom experience and it’s not as great as you though it would be, but a certain ballerina (ballerino? I googled it and its ballerino in Italian [quote unquote] but in French they are a danseur and im rambling) might be the calmness you’ve been needing...that is until you meet his brother....

Author’s Note: I plan on turning this into a scenario??? Question marks cause idk if I want to turn it into a chaptered fic instead??? Anyways I wrote this back in like 2014 so its kinda dated but it is what it is yall. 

MASTERLIST

credit

With the arrival of the bell came the flood.

You got caught in it. Dragged into the depths of the sea that was the main hall. You grunted and fought against the current, as students barged their way past you, slamming roughly against your shoulders as you clutched onto your books for dear life.

It seemed never-ending, it actually felt like you were moving backwards as more and more people rushed, trying in vain to arrive to their next class on time.

You didn’t think that college would be like this.

You thought it would be peaceful and calm, like a pond or a small lake.

Not the damn sea during a hurricane.

It was probably because it was the first day, and everyone was still trying to catch their bearings. Or because this hall was seriously the most used and classes held up to two hundred people. Whatever the reason, you felt a sudden panic attack crawling up your throat like a corpse clawing out of the grave. You knew that very soon you would lose it, and so you began to count in your head to calm yourself down.

“I…2…3…4—” push “—5…6—” shove “—7…..8….9….”

Before you could lose your cool, you broke the surface and felt the cold wind snap deliciously against your damp face. You closed your eyes and sighed with relief as you realized that you had won.

You battled against the human sea and you beat it victoriously.

But could you deal with that every other day?

You shuddered as the thought hit you and decided to ignore it for the meantime. You had to admit, despite that near death journey you had just trekked, your first day as a college student wasn’t as bad as you—and your parents, not to mention your little sister—had imagined. Today was Monday, and on Mondays, you had three classes: English 1102, Math 1143, and Introduction to Art.

You had just left the math department and now had a couple hours to kill before your last class.

You decided to call your best friend, Suho, and see if he had escaped his side of campus.

“Hello?” He answered happily—did he have any other emotion?

“I nearly died just now. This hallway is lethal, I don’t know if I’ll make it.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it out alive. When does your next class start?”

“In two hours. Wanna get lunch?”

“Absolutely, I’m starving. Meet me at the Student Union building?”

“Okay, see you then.” You hung up and tried your hardest to recall just where exactly the Student Union building was located.

Nearly twenty minutes later, you stumbled upon the holy land. You found Suho almost immediately and rushed over to his table.

“What took you so long?” He wondered, munching on a fry.

You plopped down in the seat across from him and let out an exhausted breath, “I forgot how to get here. I had to backtrack like four different times.”

He sighed, “You could have called me, I would have helped you.”

“I’m aware,” you dismissed, stealing a fry from his tray. He frowned, but didn’t do anything to stop you from stealing another one.

“It’s the first day, and I’m already beat,” you muttered after you had returned to the table after leaving him briefly to buy a cold sandwich, a bag of salty chips, and a bottle of green tea.

“And it’s not even over yet,” Suho reminded you with a smile on his face.

“Can you not? I don’t want to think about that just yet.”

“At least it’s art. You can unwind in your last class. My last class is Physics, there is no unwinding in physics.”

“You’re smart, you can literally handle anything.”

He cocked his head to the side and studied you. Once he caught your attention, you stuck your tongue out at him and drained your drink, smacking your lips obnoxiously when you were done.

“it’s a wonder we’re even friends,” he mused aloud around his sandwich.

You shrugged, “you still have time to run.”

He grinned, not missing a beat, “I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

You held out your semi-empty plastic bottle, “I’ll drink to that.”

He chuckled and lifted his own soda can, your drinks clinking exotically together, confirming your status as best friends for life.

Which Suho was. The two of you had known each other since you were five. Your fathers were childhood friends that lost contact after college, but somehow—when the two of you were five—reunited and stuck to each other like glue. Even opening their own music store together. Kim Junmyeon, who was lovingly addressed as Suho, and you grew up at the music store, learning how to play different instruments as well as the ropes to owning a business, and the chemistry between your fathers ultimately rubbed off onto you, causing yet another family-like bond.

“You are taking piano, aren’t you?” You asked him a few minutes later.

His attitude shifted instantly as his smile faltered a tad. It was barely noticeable, but you could read this young man in front of you like a book.

“Junmyeon,” You said warningly, using his real name to show how serious you were.

He sighed, “I want to. I just… so much is already on my plate, and I didn’t want to burden my parents with another credit and…”

“And you just didn’t want to,” You finished for him. You lowered your voice, “I thought you liked music.”

“Of course I do, but that’s something our fathers love. Music is their dream, not ours.”

You pouted. He was right, even you weren’t taking any classes related to music, but you were still planning on practicing the viola on your own time. Music was in your blood, it was just as unavoidable as Suho. You didn’t know what life would be like without it, and quite frankly, you didn’t want a life without it.

Suho adored music more than you did. When his father first taught him how to play the piano, he had to be forcefully removed from the bench. There was nowhere else he would rather be, and as he grew, so did his talent. He was so talented, that he won many competitions, and even wrote compositions for many popular songs heard on the radio today.

He was a prodigy.

You? Well, you just liked to play. You were nowhere near as good as Suho, despite the many things he had told you, and you knew that and was fine with it. For you, it didn’t matter if you won or lost, as long as you got to play. You learned how to play the guitar, clarinet, drums, and even the piano, but nothing called to you like the viola. It was an extension of yourself, and Suho once said that when you played, people could tell you transported into a different realm. You were in your own little universe, and would only return once the piece was finished.

“It can be both, couldn’t it? You play so well…” You could tell Suho felt uncomfortable and would rather not discuss the matter anymore, so you just let your sentence carry. Instead, talking about everything else and nothing for the rest of your time together. “Well, my class is about to start in ten minutes. Luckily, I know where the art building is. I’ve only been going there since I was twelve.”

You tried to laugh, but got nothing out of Suho. His smile still plastered on his face, but his eyes dull as he pulled himself up and collected your trash, throwing it in the trashcan and following you out into the crisp fall air.

The art building was very hard to miss. It was one of the bigger buildings because the college you attended focused mostly on the arts, and was painted a bright blue, while every other building was a tan brick color.

“Paint me something nice, alright?” Suho said once you both stopped outside the doors of the building.

You rolled your eyes, “You know I suck at painting, Su, I’m more of a charcoal person.”

He shrugged, “I still want a painting. Charcoal is so boring.”

You smacked his shoulder, “go. Before I lose my temper.”

He laughed and held his arms up in surrender, “We wouldn’t want that now would we?”

He sauntered away and left you to stare up at the intimidating building. Hesitantly, you pried the glass door open and scuttled into the structure. Noise overwhelmed you. You could hear many people tuning their instruments, and the noise of a teacher counting and the soft thud of footsteps. If you listened harder, you could faintly make out people singing.

It was beautiful.

The cacophony of sound settled around you in a somewhat numbing hum, beckoning you to walk even deeper within the building. Almost all the doors were open and you peered into each one, loving everything that you saw. A chubby boy wailing away on his trombone. A lanky boy with a mop top and a short thick girl with glasses singing a duet. What appeared to be an African dance class. A trio practicing on their violins. A boy twirling about in an empty dance room.

You paused once you glanced inside the dance room. He was doing barrel turns across the room, and when he reached the end, he pirouetted for what seemed like a long time, stopping smoothly with one foot resting in back of him and his arms held out in the perfect stance.

He was breathing hard as he dropped his position and ran his fingers through his dark hair, dragging the strands away from his face, only for them to return. He must have felt your stare, because he suddenly swiveled his head to meet you eyes.

He was gorgeous, to put it simply. He had slightly tan skin and perfectly shaped almond brown eyes and a straight nose, and lips that seemed to be the center of his face. He looked almost ethereal as he attempted to catch his breath and sweat slid alluringly down his lean frame and his eyes remained on you.

“Lost?” He asked. His tone wasn’t mocking, simply curious.

His voice was just as lovely as his features. You shook your head, “Just looking around.”

He walked up to the mirror where a drawstring backpack laid, and pulled a small towel out of it, wrapping it around his neck, “class starts pretty soon, doesn’t it? You might be late,”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s so easy to get distracted in this building. There’s so much going on.”

“First day?” He asked with an understanding nod of his head.

You returned the nod with a rushed one of your own, “I’m in sensory overload at the moment.”

“Happens to all of us.”

He turned around and headed back to the corner of the room. You stared at his retreating frame for a moment and then decided it was time to leave. “See you around then.”

He turned his head so that you could see the outline of his nose and raised a hand, “see you.”

You had to forcefully remove yourself from the doorway, and practically run to your classroom, making it in with thirty seconds to spare.

~*~

After your last class was finished, you headed over to the dorms.

You still could not believe you were actually living on your own, away from your parents and sister. And as you stepped into your new home, you couldn’t help but grin.

It was small, but cozy. With a living room that held a couch, there was one bedroom that your roommate and you would be sharing and you got your own bathroom which was nice.

You noticed that your bedroom door was open and you could faintly make out a voice coming from within. It appeared your roommate was in. You hadn’t met her yet, and was nervous. Would you like her? Would she like you? You carefully tiptoed towards the door and paused in the threshold. She was singing under her breath and it was beautiful. The words did not sound very familiar to you, but her voice was so lovely, you found myself creating notes to accompany her with in you head.

Finally, you grew the courage to gently knock on the wall and peek your head in.

She was sitting at a white vanity she must had brought with her, and was clipping something into her jaw length black hair. She spun around quickly, startled.

Once you were facing each other, you carefully examined the other. She was gorgeous, but seemed a bit rebellious with her black lace clothing and scruffy boots. With the light from the window on her hair, you spotted green and blue highlights in it. Her eyes were covered in kohl and her lips were set in a hard line, but you noticed the tips curled slightly in a mischievous grin.

After your slight stare down, she held out her hand, “Park Sunyoung. But I go by Luna.”

You smiled and marched in to shake her hand and introduced yourself as well.

“Like what I’ve done with the place?” She smirked, spinning around to face the mirror again.

The room was placed in such a way that each half was your own. Her side was crowded. The white walls were covered with posters. You spotted both movies and boy and girl groups respectively. She had a purple fluffy mat on the wooden floor, and clothes were strung there and about. She also placed a flat screen television on a dresser that she pushed in the middle of a wall so that it was between your beds.

You glanced at your side, You had only put sheets on your bed, leaned your viola case against the wall, and tossed your suitcases on your bed. It was—and would still be once you finished unpacking—bare compared to hers.

You nodded your head, “you just moved in?”

She nodded her head also. “Bout to grab a bite to eat. Wanna come?”

You bit your lip. You wanted to unpack and maybe practice your instrument for a while, but the need to make friends overwhelmed you, especially a girlfriend. “Sure.”

You watched as Luna hopped off her chair and grabbed a black homburg hat before snatching your wrist and dragging you out of your room.

You entered the cafeteria five minutes later, the building was bustling with life and you couldn’t help but to search around, looking at your fellow schoolmates.

There were a bunch of different stores to choose from, and after watching Luna tap her chin while glaring at each station, you both finally decide on Chinese. You grabbed your plates and then Luna pulled out her phone, dialing a number before she pressed it to her ear.

“Yah! Where are you?” She laughed. Your eyes widened. You were not planning on meeting other people. “I can’t see you! Oh! By the taco station? Mmm… Okay, on my way.” She hung up and glanced at you, tilting her head in the direction she was heading before walking off. You quickly tried to match her pace. You arrived at a round table with seven chairs and two girls sitting there in comfortable silence.

“Hey!” Luna sang as she pulled a chair next to one of them, you quickly followed suite.

The girl next to Luna had brown hair that she had cut really short, a pixie cut. While the girl beside her had straight black hair that cascaded down her body. The one with the pixie cut was sporting a guy tank top and khakis while the one beside her was wearing a black and white stripped dress and blood red lipstick.

“Who’s the stranger?” The girl next to Luna asked, studying you.

“This is my roommate,” Luna beamed with pride and you smiled shyly as she introduced you. “This is my cousin Victoria and our friend, Amber.”

“Nice to meet you,” you greeted.

“Are you a freshman like Luna?” Amber asked, giving you her full attention.

You nodded, “what grade are you in?”

“We’re both juniors,” Victoria supplied, taking a giant bite of her food.

“So… how was your first day?” Amber asked Luna, who rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I guess. All I had were generals today. I can’t wait till my fun classes begin.”

“Are you, by any chance, in choir?” You asked.

She stared at you with wide eyes, “oh god, no! What makes you think that!?”

“Well,” you began nervously. “I heard you singing when I entered the room…”

“Oh~~” The three nodded.

“I do love singing,” Luna informed somewhat sheepishly. “I just…”

“She just doesn’t like to do things when told to do them.” A girl who just walked up to the table finished for Luna, pulling the chair next to Victoria out and unceremoniously plopping down. She was tall and skinny and had long blonde hair. Just like Luna, she was wearing dark clothes and makeup, her expression unimpressed.

Another girl who was the polar opposite took a seat beside her. She had reddish-brown hair that went down to her collarbones and was wearing a pink skirt and shirt and a genuine bright smile. She instantly reminded you of Suho.

“Shut up, Krystal,” Luna barked.

“Make me,” the Krystal girl retorted, sticking her tongue out.

“Choir is just so stuffy,” Luna defended herself. “You have to sing three octaves higher than you normally do, have to wear hideous outfits, and have to move your mouth like this,” she began to open and close her mouth in a way that resembled a fish. “It’s horrible.”

“Plus, she never goes to class, so she’d probably get dropped,” Krystal grinned wickedly at Luna.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?!” The two began to bicker, and you locked eyes with the bright girl next to Krystal who was looking at you.

“What is your name?” She asked. You told her and asked for hers in return. “I’m Sulli. Sorry about my friends. They tend to not have manners.”

“I heard that!” Krystal screeched and smacked Sulli’s shoulder, causing her to wince. She then turned her gaze to you. “I’m not that bad, really. I’m Krystal, by the way.”

You introduced yourself to her and she boldly held out her hand for you to shake. Her hand was very soft.

“Are you a freshman?” She asked and you nodded your head. “Cool. So are Sulli and me. Are you Luna’s roommate?”

“Yes she is, so can you stop asking so many questions?” Luna asked, exasperated.

Krystal shrugged, sniffing a cup of fruit, “just curious. I’m surprised you’d invite her along. I know how much you hate new people.”

“I don’t—”

“YES YOU DO!” The four interrupted Luna, causing the whole table to laugh.

“You all suck,” Luna pouted, but a smile tugged on her lips.

“Welcome to our crew,” Victoria said to me, holding up a bottle of apple juice. You lifted your own drink and you all chugged the liquid.

It tasted like a long friendship.

~*~

Back in your room, all unpacked and exhausted, you laid on your bed. Luna was taking her last class of the day, which was at eight, and she wasn’t very excited about that, so you had the place to yourself. You wanted to play your viola, but was so tired, you couldn’t budge.

Vibrating caught your attention and you groaned as you felt around for your phone. Once found, you answered it without bothering to check caller I.D.

“I take it you’ve already eaten?” Suho asked you from the other end.

You grinned, “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you aren’t harassing me about how you will die any second if you don’t get any food in you soon.”

You sighed, “You know me so well.”

“That’s why I hold the title of best friend.”

“Sorry. Are you hungry?”

“Kind of.”

“Did you just finish your last class?”

He was silent for a second, “no. I, uh, finished it a while ago.”

“Well why didn’t you call me then?”

“I was…distracted. Come down. I’m at your dorm.”

“But, Suho!”

“You shouldn’t have unpacked all at once. That’s your fault. Hurry!”

He hung up and you had no choice but to get your lazy butt up and head downstairs.

He was outside the building, leaning against the cool brick.

“What is the rush?” You asked once you spotted him.

“It’s the first week of school, there is so much we could do!”

“Like…?”

“Like visit the art building and watch people.”

Your eyes brightened and you hurriedly pushed Suho, he laughed at your eagerness and you headed over to your favorite building.

“I should have brought my instrument,” you pouted as the doors opened.

Suho shook his head and you entered the first room you found.

There were a couple kids acting in this one. You watched for a minute, but you both knew which rooms you wanted to really be at.

“Let’s just go to the music room,” You ordered. You started running down the familiar halls, eager to enter the one room you had been in over the years.

Suho continued walking, and you wondered if it was because he didn’t want to go to this room after all.

You entered the room and took a deep breath, smiling widely as you were surrounded by all the instruments. You were in the string room, and you bowed to the professor before heading over to decide which instrument to play.

There were a few kids there in a small circle with guitars on laps, so you picked up an acoustic guitar and joined them.

You quietly tuned your instrument as two of the other boys were playing off each other. The music was very bluesy and you nodded along as they continued.

All music stopped and you heard a few gasps. Suho must have entered. You turned to verify his presence and tried not to laugh at his awkward smile. He hated the attention. Anybody who considered themselves piano players knew who Suho was, and anybody in this area who was aware of music knew who he was as well. He was kind of a big deal.

“Please, continue,” Suho said, motioning for the two boys to play. They stared at him instead, either too nervous or starstruck. With a sigh, you held your guitar on your lap and began to play a song you had made up a few years ago. The people around the room blinked over at you, distracted from Suho, which you knew he was grateful. You felt him sit down beside you, but you ignored him and continued playing. Your fingers gliding confidently over the strings.

“You think she’s good at this,” You heard Suho say. “You should see her play the viola.”

You missed a note and lost your train of thought as laughter bubbled up your throat.

“Please stop, Suho,” you chuckled, finishing the song quickly. Once you were done, everyone in the room applauded and you bowed your thanks and Suho and you sat silently and listened to the others play for a while.

“Should we go now?” he whispered in your ear after about twenty minutes and you nodded. You both got up and bowed to everyone before heading out.

“That was nice,” you grinned up at your best friend, his hands in his pockets and his smile somewhat strained.

“Uh… yeah, nice…”

You laughed, “You hated every waking minute of it.”

“No!” He quickly defended. “I just… you know I hate it when people treat me like that.”

“Like a celebrity?”

He sighed, “I hate that word.”

“But, I mean, you kind of are a celebrity, Suho.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands, “don’t say that!”

You laughed again and dragged him out of the hall. On your way out, you passed the dance room, and you glanced into the empty room. You were somewhat disappointed to see how lifeless it was in there compared to earlier today….

~*~

Your first week went by smoothly. You hung out quite a bit with Luna and her friends and only got lost once. Suho and your schedules did not align very well, and you rarely got to see each other, which frustrated both of you, but you made time—as little as it was—to hang out at least once a day.

It was Monday again, and after a semi stressful weekend, you were looking forward to another week of college.

Your alarm went off and you chuckled as Luna groaned and tossed in her bed, “turn that off!”

She threw a pillow in your direction and you turned the alarm off,  and with a whispered ‘goodbye’ you left for your first class.

After your math class ended, and you had once again fought against the ten o’clock rush, you decided to head over to the art building early to goof off for a bit and kill time.

You found yourself pausing in front of that damned dance room again. The door was closed, but you could hear the faint thud of bass coming from the speakers within, and you just knew that man from last week was in there. After a bit of hesitation, you finally pried the door open.

He was there alright. Wearing cut offs and a black wife beater. He was stretching on the center of the floor, leaning against one leg as the music played on. When he lifted his upper body he noticed you, “you’re back.”

You couldn’t tell if he was happy or annoyed by the fact, but you smiled at him anyway, “I told you I’d see you later.”

He laughed once under his breath and shook his head faintly.

“Mind if I watch?”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.

You deflated, “or…not.”

As you began taking a step back he let out a breath, “no! Wait.”

You glanced at him expectantly and he sighed, “You can stay if you want.”

You beamed and came all the way into the room, closing the door solidly behind you. You sat against the mirror and pulled your legs up to your chin.

“It’s nothing much,” the beautiful boy began. “I’m just going to be doing some stretches and going over some routines….”

“That’s fine,” You encouraged and he paused before nodding his head self-consciously.  

After fifteen minutes of warming up, he began to dance. You knew he was not going full out, but even still he was captivating. He moved effortlessly, almost as if he were bored, and he made every move seem easy, although you knew it was anything but.

At one moment he attempted a leap, but couldn’t land right. He groaned with frustration, “I can’t get this jump right.”

You perked up, with him talking for the first time in thirty minutes. He was standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, eyeing himself in the mirror.

“I don’t even know why it is so difficult for me, but I just can’t get it. The teacher told me I was landing too hard but what does that even mean?”

You blinked at him and were silent for a moment. Finally you worked up the courage to speak, “may—maybe you can demonstrate it again? I’ll watch and see if I can spot the problem?”

His eyes flickered to yours questioningly, “you dance?”

“Uh… no, but I’m sure I’d notice if you weren’t landing right.”

He thought about it for a second, but must have seen there was no harm in it because he shrugged and started the music up again.

You watched him as he twirled around the room before going for the leap. He was flawless in the air, but once his foot came down, he was a stumbling mess. He had to hold his arms out to catch his balance and you figured out the problem.

“You’re not distributing your weight properly,” You informed him once he was at a standstill. “You put all your weight on the leg you’re landing on when you need to put it on both.”

“How do I go about doing that?” He asked, twirling the lid off of his water and chugging half the bottle.

“As soon as your foot touches the ground, stretch out your back leg and lift your arms higher.”

The dancer’s eyes wandered above him for a minute, probably imagining the actions he had to take, and then he put his water down and started the music again.

When it got to the troubling leap, you held your breath. He was up, up, up and then he came down. His foot touched the floor and he seemed to spring higher as he flexed his legs and raised his arms, not even wobbling.

“Perfect landing,” you breathed with a grin as he continued on with the choreography. You couldn’t help but to notice how dazzling his face looked graced with that triumphant smile that seemed nearly blinding.

He was now going all out, as if he were performing on a stage, and your heart was in your throat.

You had seen a lot of beautiful things. Watching your father play the trombone, watching Suho play the piano, listening to one of your friends, Yuri, sing, but this fellow in front of you took passion to another level.

Tears began to obstruct your vision as you watched him reach towards the heavens with every jump. Every flex of a muscle seemed to be a part of a story only he knew how to tell, but the story was magnificent and you could not look away.

It ended with him pirouetting before landing on one knee, an arm stretched towards you.

The music ended and the only thing that could be heard was his hard breathing.

“That… that was beautiful.” Beautiful could not cover base to how life altering watching him perform was. He was beyond that, he was something no word could yet define.

“Thank you,” he grinned and bowed humbly.

“No, I’m… I’m serious. I don’t think I have ever seen anything that passionate before in my entire life, and my father lives and breathes music. You are truly talented.”

You watched him bite his lip and scratch the back of his head before repeating, “thank you.”

“No, thank you,” That sounded so cheesy out loud, but you really wanted to thank him for showing you that. You wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes and laughed at yourself, “I swear I don’t usually cry watching people dance. Only if I’m moved enough.”

“I moved you?” He asked. You noticed the teasing tone in his voice, but also surprise, as if he didn’t believe he was that good.

“To tears,” You confirmed, holding your hands out to show him the salty wetness on them.

“Thank you,” he repeated yet again, and you blinked up at him.

“For what?”

“For helping me with that turn. Also for letting me know just how good I am. Sometimes you need other people besides those who are always telling you to realize your potential, you know?”

“Absolutely. I definitely understand. I remember when I was first learning how to play the viola, and my father was constantly telling me how good I was, but I felt like I wasn’t adequate. It took my best friend to finally make me realize that maybe I was worthy of the instrument.”

The sweaty ballerina just stared at you for a moment, and you grew embarrassed. Were you talking too much? You were definitely talking too much. This is why you only had two friends growing up.

“You can come watch me practice whenever you want,” he suddenly allowed. His smile grew at your shocked expression. “I realize now I enjoy the company, and you can probably help me on some things. So… whenever you want, if I’m here, don’t be shy.”

He said all of that without even glancing at you, but you could tell the sincerity in his voice. Plus, you found it endearing how he dug the ground with his toes.

It was your turn to repeat yourself, “thank you.”

~*~

You ran all the way to your dorm after art, eager to get this off your chest.

You felt kind of bad that Suho wasn’t the person you wanted to talk to about the matter, but this was strictly a girl thing, and you knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Luna!” You practically screeched when you finally slammed the door to your bedroom open, scaring the living daylights out of your roommate.

“Jesus!” she cried, throwing the magazine she was peacefully reading on her bed onto the floor. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“I’m in like,” You breathed, falling unto your bed with a longing sigh.

“In like?” she questioned.

“Yes. With a beautiful ballerina.”

“Ballerina?”

“It’s a guy,” you clarified, rising up to meet Luna’s gaze. She was grinning from ear to ear, leaning in closer.

“Well, spill it!”

You told her about the mystery dancer who just so happened to be drop dead gorgeous and wanted your company.

“Wow, that is so romantic! What is his name? Maybe I know him.”

“It’s…” Your smile melted off with the realization that you in fact had no name for the face you most definitely would be dreaming of later tonight.

“You don’t know?” Luna’s eyes widened and than she gasped, “that’s even more romantic! It’s like Cinderella! Does he know yours?”

You shook your head and she threw a pillow up in the air. It hit the ceiling before landing on the floor behind her, next to her long forgotten magazine. “Oh my god! The two of you are so mysterious! That is so hot.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. You’ve grown quite close to Luna this past week; she was someone you really needed in your life.

“You have to keep me posted on the development on your unfolding love story. And don’t forget who was there in the beginning when you have to pick a maid of honor for your wedding!”

“Oh, I will def keep you up to date.”

~*~

Sadly, there was nothing to report back to Luna.

Classes started to add pressure the rest of the week, and you were so swamped in schoolwork, that you had no time to eat a normal meal, let alone watch someone dance for a couple hours. you even had a test in art!

When Friday came around, all you wanted to do was relax, but Suho had other plans for you.

“Come on! We haven’t seen each other all week! I miss my bestie!”

“I miss you too, but I’m so tired,”  you complained, rolling around in your bed for affect.

“We are all tired, we’re college students.”

“Why can’t you hang out with your roommate? I’m sure he will keep you company.”

“He is hanging out with me. I’m trying to expose you to more people,” You could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“I don’t need more friends. You’re like five friends put together!”

“Please,” Suho whimpered, muttering your name softly. You tensed, knowing what he was doing. “We haven’t seen one another in five days and I just really need my best friend right now. Is that a crime? Is wanting to see you such a bad thing?”

He sighed when you remained silent, “fine. I won’t bother you anymore. Take your nap and be a loser for all your life, but don’t call me when you finally want to settle down, because I would have moved on with a new bestie by then.”

“Fine!” You cried, hopping off your bed. “Jesus, Suho! I’ll hang out with you, damn!”

He chuckled and you heard a muffled ‘works every time’ before he was back in your ear, “you have ten minutes. Dress really cute, we’re going somewhere fun. You better be waiting for us when we get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” You hung up before he could guilt you into doing something else you didn’t want to do and slumped over to your closet.

Suho’s definition of really cute was a scary concept, and it made you wonder where he was dragging you. He loved heels and thigh highs. You always joked and told him he was a subtle pervert, and he would reply by simply shrugging, tilting his head to get a good view of the girl he had his eye on at the time.

You groaned and yanked the clothes you knew he was already picturing in his head before getting ready.

Six minutes later, you were standing outside the dorms in a thin pink dress, black tights, chunky black heels, and a glare.

True to his word, Suho was in front of the dorms ten minutes after your call ended. He stepped out of the passenger side of a very expensive looking black car, dressed in dark jeans and a sky blue button down, and you knew that you were dressed accordingly.

His grin grew into a full-blown smile as he took you in, “you never disappoint.”

“Shut up, you perv,” You retaliated. He just laughed, continuing walking up to you. Once you were right in front of each other, he pulled you into a hug and you soon felt a tugging at your hair.

Suho pulled away with a satisfied grin, “you look prettier with your hair down.”

“What is this?” You snapped, as he ruffled your brown hair that he had released from the ponytail you had it in seconds ago. “Are you trying to hook me up with someone?”

“I might be, but I just want you to have fun tonight. You have to dress good to feel good.”

“I mean, I guess?” You let him drag you over to the car. He opened the backseat door for you and helped you get in before crawling back to the front. There were two males sitting to your left, both incredibly handsome and one behind the wheel.

Suho called you and you glanced at him, really nervous. You usually felt at ease around the opposite sex, but Suho made you dress up, and it made you self-conscious, especially since all the men in the car were good looking.

Not as fine as your little ballerina, you thought suddenly, and you felt your cheeks heat up. They definitely weren’t that pleasing to the eyes.

You blinked, quickly focusing back at Suho. He had his hand on the driver’s shoulder, “This is my roommate, Kris, and those two sitting next to you are Kim Jongdae and Do Kyungsoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, nodding towards them. They all nodded in return and you zoomed off to some unknown place.

“Jongdae and Kyungsoo are singers,” Suho informed as you continued driving. “And Kris here is an actor. They all have scholarships and are top of their classes.”

“Why must you talk us up like this?” The one furthest to the window whined. He had a cute voice and a cat like curve to his lips that you couldn’t help but stare at.

“It’s alright,” you began. “It’s in his nature. He’s like a proud father.”

“This girl right here,” he started, and you rolled your eyes. “Is one of the best viola players in the country, if not the continent! She also draws, plays other instruments, and sings.”

You shook your head rapidly, “please do not tell professional singers that I sing, Suho. That’s embarrassing.”

He simply shrugged, “how many times have you sung the lyrics to my compositions?”

“I’m not sure anymore, Suho,” you sighed, your gaze flickering to the singers beside you. They looked intrigued, and you wanted to shrink.

“Exactly, because it’s been too many times to count. If it had been up to me, I would have given you the songs to record. I write them for you anyway.”

“Gross,” you cried, kicking his seat. Sometimes he said things that made it seem as if you were closer than you actually were. It was a habit you were trying to get him out of.

It was around ten when Kris—who had been silent throughout the entire ride there—pulled into a karaoke bar.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath. Suho was toying with you the entire ride there, the bastard.

“What was that?” The smaller boy beside you, Kyungsoo, asked. His voice was deeper than you had thought it would be at first glance and his wide eyes and plump lips made him seem older than you would have originally thought, more mature.

“I should have known we would be singing,” you said a bit louder to him, although you pushed your knee deep into the back of Suho’s seat.

“And drinking,” the guy near the window, Jongdae, winked at you playfully and you sighed with both content and relief, because he was really cute and you really needed a drink.

“Good,” you breathed as you all headed out.

You followed the guys into the bar, and was led into probably the biggest room you had ever seen in one of these places. It was already filled with about six other people, both male and female.

You felt pressure on your arm and lips at your ear. “Don’t be afraid to make friends, and maybe even get a bit touchy if you want,” Suho winked at you and you grimaced. What was up with him today?

There were only two other girls in the room, and you quickly ran to sit beside them, introducing yourself quickly. They were Hyeri and Hyorin. There was a guy singing a Super Junior song, and he was really good. You just sat silently as everyone got comfortable. Jongdae soon appeared with around four huge bottles of liquor, while Kyungsoo scuttled behind him with shot glasses.

“Whose ready to turn up!” Jongdae’s high-pitched voice rang loudly over the commotion of the room, and everyone—including yourself—cheered. Jongdae and another boy who you weren’t acquainted with poured the shots, while Kyungsoo handed them out. You were the last one to receive a glass, and he sat beside you with a shy smile. You returned it and waited for one of the shorter boys in the room to give the toast speech, “to freshman! To the beginning of the rest of our lives!”

You all held your glasses up high before tilting your heads back and downing the liquid fire with grimaces and coughs.

Liquor made you friendly, to put it simply. It also made you extremely confident, yet also very uncoordinated. You took six more shots of the strongest stuff Jongdae had to offer, and before you knew it, you were singing a duet with one of the boys named Byun Baekhyun. It was an intense balled, and you acted the part, even pressing against each other, his arm around your waist while one of your hands were on his cheek as you both shared his microphone.

You gathered hoots and hollers and you just laughed and laughed when the song ended. He gave you a wink and carried you off the small platform, making you sit on his lap back on the couch.

“You’re fun,” He yelled into your ear, his voice deep enough for you to feel warm from the compliment.

“You give good speeches,” you replied, remembering him giving the toast earlier.

“You sing very well,” he countered.

“Well… you’re very handsome.”

His smile was a million watts.

~*~

(Another lil snippet that I haven’t even gotten to plot wise but I had a Vision™ and wrote it down before I forgot, to give you better insight on what I'm trying to do here haha)

“Jongin….”

“Oh no, silly girl, I’m not Jongin,” his eyes remained piercing into your soul as he pushed a chunk of your hair back behind your ear just to whisper, “I’m Kai.”

You blinked up at him, “who?”

“Kai,” he clarified. “Jongin’s twin brother.”

It was silent for a moment and then you burst out laughing, pushing his shoulder. He looked at you stunned, “stop playing, Jongin. What kind of joke is this?”

He raised an eyebrow, “It’s not a joke, plus, Jongin’s sense of humor wouldn’t allow him to play such a prank. Maybe when we were younger and used to switch classes for the day, but ever since college, all that boy’s focused on is the art.”

“The art?”

“Dancing.”

“Oh… oh!” Your eyes widened as you remembered asking Jongin about his hiphop routine. Your eyes flashed up to the Jongin in front of you, “you were the one doing the hiphop routine!”

He smirked and nodded boldly, “That I was.”

“Shit, you’re telling the truth.”

“Duh. I’m not a liar. But, it seems like Jongin might be…..”

[firemblem-fics]

Smitten Kitten [Finale]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!AU (mostly platonic idk)

-> Warnings: Abuse mentions, Like Two Sex Jokes, Yelling

-> Genre: Angst, Fluff

-> Word Count: 1.6k

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of?

-> A/N: Okay so the more i wrote this the more i realized it was more platonic than anything and also it barely fucking features felix and i’m just very unhappy with it i suppose ... maybe in the future i’ll rewrite idk i’m really sorry for this i kinda hate it but i’ve been working on it for so long i didn’t want to make people wait longer

Soon, the bell rang once more and you turned your head, finally making eye contact with those red eyes you'd been longing to see for weeks.

"Fe!" You nearly stumbled forward as you rushed towards the hybrid, your heart leaping as you reached out to-

"Don't touch him!"

Karen's shrill voice was like an invisible wall that was keeping you away from Felix. You almost shrunk back as she yelled, but you stood tall. The Hybrid Services needed to see that you were strong and fully capable of taking care of Felix and you were determined to do just that.

You only looked at Felix expectantly. He went to walk over to you, but was stopped with an extremely harsh tug on his leash. He hissed at Doug, who was talking to an HPS officer with a hardened gaze.

Karen, on the other hand, walked coolly up to you. "What's your problem?" She sneered.

"My problem? You're hurting Felix."

"We're just disciplining him," She rolled her eyes, "Sometimes a savage animal needs a few hits to get the rules in their head. Felix plays too many games that we don't feel like dealing with."

"Then why do you keep him?"

"Have you seen the boy? He's gorgeous. He's won multiple awards and thousands of dollars at Hybrid Shows. A bit of pain is worth the prize."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "He's gorgeous, yeah? Is that why you felt the need to cover his bruises with makeup? I took care of Felix for two months and he never caused any trouble. He was polite, respectful, thoughtful, and never once did he need to be 'punished'. He's not the problem- you are."

"Why you-"

"Mr. and Mrs..." An officer called the couple away from you. He began showing them all of the messages between you and Felix- proof of their wrongs.

You, on the other hand, turned to the cat-boy and finished what you started, throwing your arms around his torso and squeezing him tightly. In return, Felix only stiffened up. He didn't know where to put his hands, choosing to rest them on your shoulders as his chin laid on the crown of your head. You only got a few seconds of alone time before another pair of arms wrapped around the two of you.

"How sweet, a reunion! I'm sniffing out a kiss and some 'I missed you' sex later on- OW!"

Felix's hand went from your shoulder to Sylvain's stomach, stopping him in his sentence. "Go fuck yourself."

"Only if you watch me~"

You laughed, pulling back from the hug and looking over at Ashe, who was now engaged in a conversation with one of the HPS officers. You were more than thankful to have him at your side. Ashe had gone through the same little trial to get custody of Sylvain, so he was more than willing to help you get Felix out of his shitty situation as well.

Ashe had explained to you how Hybrid cases worked. Evidence would be presented to officers or a Hybrid Facilitator, such as Nancy, and they would make the call as to what happens next. You would be presenting evidence of Karen and Doug’s abuse to them and asking for Felix to be placed in your care. Lucky for you, Felix could speak on your behalf as well since he had stayed with you for two months.

You were scared. Felix was a big boy. He hid his emotions and stayed strong throughout the shit that his owners put him through, but even the strongest people have their limits. Unfortunately for you, Felix was still a hybrid. Legally considered an animal and treated as even less.

You couldn’t give him the freedom that he deserved, but you would try your damn hardest to give him a happy life.

You nearly teared up thinking about it and Felix must have noticed, for amidst his and Sylvain’s bickering he subtly placed his hand on the small of your back. It stayed there when the officers gathered everyone together, letting both sides present their cases. You spoke first.

“Two months ago, I found a little black and white cat in a dumpster. He was cold, hungry, and unhappy. I took him in and learned later on that he was Felix. Felix stayed with me for two months. I was under the presumption that he was kicked out of his old home- that was what he had told me, anyways.” That earned you a glare from the man beside you. “But I sheltered him for about two months, waiting for someone to come looking for him. They never did, so I took him here to get some papers filled out and make him legally… mine.”

You spat out the last word. God, did you hate the idea of having a human as a pet. Felix’s thumb brushed your back again, providing you with his own quiet form of comfort and amping you up to continue.

“I came, got some papers, and left. I should have known that he would have had papers under Doug and Karen’s name, but since I believed that they no longer wanted him, I went ahead and took ownership. Then they came up to my door later that day and took him. He had actually run away from them.

Felix put up a fight at first- he didn’t want to go. I gave him Sylvain, the other hybrid’s, phone so that he could still message me if he needed anything. The minute he left, he sent me a voice recording of those two screaming at him in the car. Since then, all of those messages had been sent as evidence that Karen and Doug have threatened him and harmed him emotionally, verbally, and physically. I want Felix to stay with me. They called him a behavioral issue, but I know how to treat him. I’ve never had an issue with him. Ever. I want full ownership of Felix Hugo Fraldarius.”

Nancy nodded and pointed to the couple, who were fuming on the other side of the room. Karen practically stormed up to Nancy and the officers, her face redder than Sylvain’s hair and voice more annoying than Sylvain himself.

“She obviously stole Felix from us!”

“What the fuck?” Said hybrid suddenly interrupted. An officer shushed him and motioned for Karen to continue.

“Felix is an award-winning, purebred Fraldarius tuxedo cat. He’s won thousands of dollars in prize money and trophies and awards, so of course a lower class girl like her would want such a high end Hybrid. He would win her money. She could have easily turned him into the facility, but she didn’t, so she stole him from us!”’

Karen had a point- you should have turned Felix in, but you couldn’t. The little cat had wormed his way into your heart more and more every day- even if he was kind of an ass in the beginning.

He still is an ass, but a little less now. You knew that when his arm moved from your back to around your shoulders, thumb now soothing the skin there.

“Wh- I didn’t even know he was a show cat until you two showed up and told me!” You defended. His hand gripped tighter as if already trying to hold you back. You were rather ready to tear this lady to shreds, honestly, so he was helping.

“You’re such a little liar- and those videos, too! They’re obviously fake. You don’t deserve Felix, you deserve to be jailed for stealing our precious prize!”

“Prize?! You don’t even see him as a real being with feelings and emotions or anything! Look-“ You suddenly licked your thumb, turning around and swiping underneath Felix’s eye. “He’s got bruises that you gave him and hid. Your face and fist are in that video. I’ve got selfies I took of him and I when he was in my care- there are no injuries, so they obviously happened in your care.”

“And how do they know you didn’t use makeup to hide the bruises you gave him?” Karen accused. God, she really was going the extra mile here. “Listen, little bitch, Felix is ours and he will be if I have to pry it from your little dead fingers.”

“You won’t lay a hand on her.” Felix speaks up. He turns to Nancy and sighs. “I wasn’t going to say anything because my pride heavily prevented me, but I am afraid of Karen and Doug. They have abused me in the last few years that I’ve been in their care and I can’t do it anymore. I can recount every single instance where they have harmed me and I will gladly do it if it means I can get the hell away from them and go with people who actually treat me well.” His face stayed straight as he spoke, his eyes hardened in a desperate attempt to show everyone how he wasn’t affected. Felix never was one to show his feelings- you were proud that he did this.

The officers, who had stayed silent for the entire time, looked at each other.

One sighed and spoke up. “You two are under arrest for Hybrid cruelty and will be investigated further and punished as charged.” He turned to you, “Do you mind if we keep the phone for a while to extract evidence?”

“I mind-“

“Not at all.” You cut off Sylvain, “He can go a little longer without his phone. He needs to go longer.”

The officer thanked you and led the two away, nearly kicking and screaming.

Nancy watched as they left, typing some things into her computer before standing up. “If any of you can follow me to the back, I need to put the proper information on a new collar tag.”

Ashe volunteered and dragged Sylvain back with him, leaving you and Felix alone at the front. You turned back to him and slipped your arms around his waist once more. Felix looked around, making sure nobody was near before holding you back properly this time. A purr erupted from his throat- quiet, but soothing as your ear was pressed against his chest.

“You’re coming home, Fe.”

“I’m already home right here with you.”

[madpanda75]

The Romantics Series  “In Sickness and In Health” Part Two

Part Two where we find out what happens to the reader and see if Rafael really does murder Chet Aldrich. Thanks for all the love and comments on Part One! Title credit to @sass-and-suspenders​ ❤️ 

The song Rafael sings is Drume Negrita, an Afro-Cuban lullaby

Warning: Hospital scenes, brief mention of death, angst, and fluff

4800ish words (It’s long! Take breaks! Stay hydrated! Grab a sandwich 😂)

The taxi cab came up to the hospital entrance. Rafael threw a wad of cash at the driver. “Keep the change.” He shut the car door and ran inside, bumping into Chet who was on his way out. The frat boy appeared to be unscathed, not a mark on him. “Oh hey, Roger,” he said.

Rafael gripped the man by the shirt. “What happened? Where’s Y/N?”

“Chill out. She’s being looked at by the doctor right now.” Chet shook loose of his grip. “We got into a little fender bender. It’s no big deal. Well, except my car, but luckily there wasn’t too much damage.”

Rafael saw red, his blood boiling. Grabbing Chet once again, he slammed him up against the wall, gaining attention from several people. “You could’ve killed her and you’re more worried about your precious car,” he snarled.

“Get off me!” Chet pushed Rafael causing him to stagger back a few steps. Rafael glared at the frat boy, his fists shaking in fury. “She’s fine. Just has a few scratches. What’s up with you two anyway?” He scoffed. “You in love with her or something?”

Rafael lunged at him once more just as an attendee came to break them up. “Is there a problem here?” the attendee sternly asked.

“No,” Chet said, smoothing his shirt, staring at Rafael. “No problem at all.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

“And for the last time, the name is Rafael!” Rafael shouted as Chet left the hospital. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath and went over to the nurses’ station. No one was there and he urgently knocked on the counter in the hopes of getting someone, anyone, to help him. “Excuse me! Hello?”

A woman with a tag that read “Ellen” trudged over to the counter, her head down while intently reading a file folder. “Can I help you?” she asked in a monotone voice, never once looking up at him.

“I’m looking for a patient who was admitted here about an hour ago.”

“Name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he replied.

Ellen sighed and opened another file, moving at a snail’s pace as she looked for your information. “Are you family?” “Well, no but—” “Are you listed as her emergency contact?” “No, her mom is but—” “Then you can’t see her. Hospital policy states only family and emergency contacts may see a patient outside of visiting hours. Come back again later,” she replied. “I’m her husband!” Rafael blurted out in a moment of panic.

Finally catching Ellen’s attention, she looked up at him for the first time. “Husband?”

“Uhhh...yes, ma’am.” Desperate to see you, he said the first thing that came into his head. Now he could only hope that the nurse would believe him. Judging by the skeptical look on her face, it wasn’t working.

“Then why aren’t you her emergency contact?”

“Well, we haven’t had time—”

“And where’s your wedding ring?” she asked before Rafael could even answer her first question.

He quickly put his left hand behind his back. “I left it—”

She arched a brow, taking in his Harvard t-shirt and flannel over shirt. “Aren’t you a little young to be getting married?”

“I am 21 years old and so is my wife. Last I checked it’s not illegal for anyone over the age of 18 to marry,” Rafael retorted, his patience wearing thin. “And while I may not have a ring on my finger, if you want further proof of the validity of our marriage I can tell you that my wife was born on November 8, 1971. She snuck out of the house when she was 15 to go see The Cure in concert. She eats cucumbers dipped in peanut butter which I find absolutely disgusting, but she claims it’s delicious. She always drinks chocolate milk with her pancakes. Her favorite color is purple, but not just any purple. It’s violet, like the color of the sky just before the sun sets. She’s seen the movie, This is Spinal Tap, at least a hundred times. She knows every word to Rapper's Delight. She is the love of my life. And right now she is terrified and in pain and she needs me. So, I’m going to ask once again may I please see my wife or do I need to go to your supervisor,” he said with finality, crossing his arms, refusing to back down.

Ellen remained deadpan after Rafael’s impassioned speech; however, much to his relief she called over one of the other nurses. “Judith, please take Mr.—”

“Barba,” Rafael said and puffed out his chest a bit.

“Mr. Barba over to see his wife, Y/N Y/L/N. She’s in the emergency ward.”

The nurse named Judith gave him a kind smile. “Follow me, Mr. Barba.” Rafael followed her through a pair of double doors and down a long hallway. “Young love, huh?”

Rafael blushed. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, I’m sure your wife will be happy to see you.” She led him to a large emergency room. The place was chaos. Patients lying in beds with varying ailments or wounds, doctors and nurses scrambling around.

Rafael felt his stomach churn when he saw a man sitting in a bed with a steak knife sticking out of his cheek. “What are you looking at?” the man yelled at him.

“Nothing,” he muttered and ran to catch up with Judith, worried what state he would find you in.

She stopped at the far corner of the room and pulled back the curtain where you were lying in bed, dressed in a hospital gown. Your face was pale with a few cuts on your cheeks and a small angry gash on the right side of your forehead, your right arm swollen and bruised.

Rafael was taken aback. You looked so small, swallowed up by that big bed, your eyes were wide and fearful. It was a stark contrast to the confident, beautiful woman with the larger than life personality he fell in love with. All he wanted to do at that moment was hold you in his arms and take away your pain.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Judith softly said. “Look who came to be with you.”

Your eyes lit up as soon as you saw your best friend. “Rafi!”

“Y/N,” he breathed and rushed to your side. “Thank God you’re alright.” A few tears slipped down your cheeks. Rafael reached out with a hesitant hand and wiped them away. You leaned into his touch, instantly comforted by his presence.

Judith took your vitals, smiling as she observed your interaction. “Your husband has been so worried. You should’ve heard the fuss he was making earlier.”

“Husband?” You furrowed your brow in confusion. “We’re not—”  

Rafael placed his hand over your good one. “Yeah, hermosa. Can you believe they wouldn’t let me see you?” He gave you a pleading look to go along with his charade, his right eye twitching slightly.”

“I can’t believe that, honey,” you slowly said, the term of endearment sounding foreign on your tongue. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“How long have you two been married?”

“One year,” you answered.

“Three months,” Rafael said at the same time. You both glanced at each other and chuckled.

“We’re newlyweds,” you explained.

“But it feels like we’ve been together forever.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your cheeks turning a brilliant shade of pink.

“You two remind me of me and my husband. We were college sweethearts, been married 20 years next March. Now all he does is sit on the couch and clean his belly button out with his car keys.” Judith wrote something on her clipboard before listening to your heartbeat. “You can go ahead and give her a kiss,” she told Rafael.

Rafael froze for a second. “Oh I—”

“Go on. She won’t break,” Judith encouraged.

He licked his lips and leaned down, placing a soft, chaste peck on the corner of your mouth. The kiss lasted a millisecond, but it felt as if time stood still. A spark shot through your body the moment his lips came in contact with yours. Slowly he pulled away, his green gaze never leaving yours, trying to remember how to breathe after that small gesture.

“Whoops, your heartbeat started racing,” Judith said, taking the stethoscope out of her ears.

“It..It..did,” you stammered.

“Mmhmm, I think I know why,” she said in a sing-song voice. “The doctor will be right with you.” With a sly wink, she left, closing the curtains behind her.

You arched a brow at Rafael once the nurse had left. “Husband, huh?”

“It was the only way they’d let me back here.” He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Rafi, I’m so scared,” you said, your voice breaking. “Please don’t leave me.”

He vehemently shook his head and ran his fingers through your hair. “I’m not leaving. I’m going to be right here. I promise.”

You softly began to cry. During your freshman year, you had taken a month off of school to be with your father when he was sick. Most of it was spent at Northwestern Memorial Hospital helping your mom. Memories of those few weeks came flooding back— the smell of iodoform, the cold sterile room where your father slipped away. Ever since then you hated hospitals and here you were stuck in one, but at least this time Rafael was with you. “I miss my dad. I wish he was here.”

“I know,” he whispered, reaching for a tissue and gently dabbing your cheeks.

Just then the curtain was pulled back and an older man with glasses and a white coat walked in. “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Cohen.” He looked down at his chart. “I see we got into a little fender bender today.”

“Yes, there...there...was a cat that ran into the street and we had to stop and the...the...car got rear-ended.” You hiccuped, barely able to catch your breath, crying harder as you explained what happened.

“Shhh, it’s ok. You’re safe,” Rafael softly said.

Dr. Cohen looked over at him. “And you are?”

“He’s my husband,” you explained, getting butterflies in your stomach just by referring to Rafael as your spouse.

“Right, well let’s take a look and see what we got here.” Dr. Cohen began to examine you—flashing a light in your eye, checking your heartbeat, inspecting your body for any broken bones. You winced in pain when he felt your right arm. “It looks like your arm is broken and you’ll have to get a few stitches on that cut, but other than that your vitals are fine. I’d still like to run a few more tests, take some X-rays, and as a precaution keep you overnight for observation.”

“Ok,” you replied. “Thank you, doctor.”

Doctor Cohen had you turn your head so he could tend to your cut. You whimpered in pain, trying to focus on Rafael as the doctor began to clean and suture your wound.

Rafael squeezed your hand. “Your mom’s on her way in. She should be here tonight.”

You gave him a shaky smile before gasping as the sharp needle pierced through your skin. He felt hopeless, wanting nothing more than to take away your pain. Letting out a nervous breath, he did the first thing that came to mind and started to serenade you with a Cuban lullaby that his abuelita would sing to him.

Mamá la negrita se le salen lo pie e' la cunita y la negra Merce' ya no sabe que hace'. Tú drume negrita que yo va' compra' nueva cunita que va' tené capite' que va' tené cajcabel. Si tú drumi yo te traigo un mamey muy colorao' y si no drumi yo te traigo un babalao que da pau pau. Tú drume negrita que yo va' compra' nueva cunita que va' tené capite' que va' tené cajcabel. Si tú drumi yo te traigo un mamey muy colorao' y si no drumi yo te traigo un babalao que da pau pau. Tú drume negrita que yo va' compra' nueva cunita que va' tené capite' que va' tené cajcabel.

Your heart skipped a beat, listening to your best friend. You had never heard him sing before. His voice was beyond beautiful, it was warm and comforting. You were lost in his melody. Lost in his shy smile. Lost in him. For the first time that night, you felt at peace.

“All done,” the doctor said. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

“It was incredible,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving Rafael. “I mean, yeah it was nothing.” You cleared your throat and blushed.

“Ohhhkay,” Dr. Cohen said, glancing between you and Rafael. “An orderly will take you to get some X-rays for that arm.” The doctor stood up and left, closing the curtain. “Kids,” he muttered, chuckling to himself.

*****

Rafael paced around the waiting room, wearing a path on the linoleum floor while the doctors ran more tests on you. Checking his watch for the umpteenth time, he sighed and took a sip of his fifth cup of coffee. Finally, Dr. Cohen came out and told him that you were resting comfortably and he could go back and see you. As the doctor led him to your room, he noticed several members of the staff staring at him and whispering to each other. Little did he know that word had gotten out, courtesy of Judith, about the cute young couple in the emergency ward. You were the talk of the hospital.

Upon seeing Rafael, you gave him a sleepy smile. Your right arm was in a cast and you had a few butterfly bandages on your face. The doctor explained that you were given a drug for the pain and it would take 6 weeks for your arm to heal, but other than that you would make a full recovery.

Once he left, Rafael pulled up a chair and sat next to you while you flipped through channels on the TV, finally settling on Unsolved Mysteries. Halfway through the episode, he noticed you shivering. “Are you cold or are you shivering cause you’re just as freaked out as I am by this show?”

“I’m cold. Will you lay down next to me?”

“What if we get caught?”

“Then you can blame it on me. Please, Rafi. I’m sick,” you whimpered, pouting your lip and batting your lashes. Between the pain-killers and the exhaustion, you were acting a little loopy.

He snorted a laugh. “You’re gonna milk this for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am.” You shifted over and patted the space next to you on the bed.

Rafael looked back at the door for a second, making sure the coast was clear before getting into bed next to you. As gently as possible he wound his arm around your shoulders. “Am I hurting you?”

“Nope.” You snuggled up against him and let out a contented sigh. “Mmm, you’re so warm.”

Rafael’s body molded to yours. He rested his cheek against the crown of your head, running his fingers up and down your arm. Even scraped up and in a hospital, you were as beautiful as ever, your skin as soft as silk, your hair still smelled like your green apple shampoo.

You shut off the TV, both of you lay there in silence. Rafael thought you had fallen asleep until he heard your voice. “So what’s our story?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like where do we get married? Where do we live? How many kids do we have? Every couple has a story. What’s ours?” You looked up at him and smiled. “I’ll start us off. We get married by candlelight in the same church my parents did on a late spring evening. And I end up wearing some big ridiculous poofy dress that my mother insists on that makes me look like a cupcake,” you teased.

“Excuse me, but you do not look like a cupcake on our wedding day,” Rafael softly said. “You look absolutely breathtaking, like a goddess, ethereal and radiant. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Your cheeks turned bright pink. Biting your lip, you shifted your focus to a loose thread on his flannel shirt, too embarrassed and shy to meet his gaze as you continued. “You look so handsome. It takes all my strength not to run down the aisle and fling myself into your arms.”

“So what happens next?” he asked, enjoying this game you were playing.

“Well now that I know you have an incredible voice”—you playfully poked him in the ribs—“you serenade me at the reception.”

“And you recite a poem by Shelley or Keats,” he added.

“Then we dance under the stars, maybe to a song by Depeche Mode or Joy Division.” You closed your eyes, envisioning the two of you swaying together to the music. Your guests fading away because your whole world was right there in your arms. Rafael followed suit and closed his eyes, shifting closer to you. “After the wedding, we honeymoon on some exotic island with white sand beaches and crystal blue water. Of course, we rarely spend any time on the beach.”

“We don’t?” he asked, picturing you in a skimpy bikini.

You shook your head. “Nope, we spend most of our time in the hotel suite.”

A smirk tugged at Rafael’s lips as he continued with the story. “After the honeymoon, we move to New York. I’m a lawyer working at a prestigious firm and you’re a Pulitzer Prize winning author.”

“You wear suspenders and fancy three piece suits everyday—”

“Suspenders?! Really?”

You laughed and playfully nudged him with your foot. “Yep and you look sexy as hell while I stay at home and work on my latest literary creation. And we’ll have two kids, a girl and a boy, Cecilia and Leo.”

His heart skipped a beat at the thought of having a family with you, silently wondering if they would have your hair color or his eyes. “I’ll help coach the debate team and you can be Troop Leader for the Girl Scouts.”

“Cecilia and I will visit your firm and get everyone to buy girl scout cookies,” you said. “Then we have another baby.”

“Another baby!?” Rafael’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

You shrugged. “We get a little tipsy at the Harvard Reunion. One thing leads to another and then nine months later we welcome a little girl, Paloma, into the world.”

Rafael ran his hand through your hair. “She’ll have all of us wrapped around her little finger since she’s the baby of the family.”

“We’ll go on vacations, have family dinners, go to school pageants, decorate the fridge with macaroni art, and get sticky chocolate kisses. We’ll be more in love than ever and we’ll live happily ever after.”

Rafael opened his eyes and studied your face. Your eyes were still closed, lost in that perfect world you both created with your words. He audibly swallowed and cupped your cheek. “Y/N,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes to find him staring at you. The electricity between you both was palpable. You were like a moth to a flame, completely drawn in by him. Tilting your head up, you inched closer, your noses bumped up against one another, his hot breath on your face. “Oh God, this is really happening,” you thought. Just as your lips were about to connect, the door opened and in stepped your mother, her face fraught with worry.

“Mommy!” you exclaimed and instantly sat up.

She ran to you and gently pulled you into her arms, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, baby. Are you alright? I was so scared.”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice slightly muffled from being locked in her embrace. “The doctor said I could go home tomorrow.”

She kissed your forehead and lovingly stroked your hair when she locked eyes with Rafael, who was still laying in bed with you. The pair exchanged an awkward glance. “Hi, Rafael.”

Rafael immediately jumped out of bed, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Rafi took good care of me.” You reached for his hand. “He’s the best husband ever.”

Your mother slowly stood up from the bed, her jaw dropping to the floor. “Husband?!”

“Oh didn’t you hear? I’m married now,” you replied and gave Rafael a sly wink.

“Married?” Your mother tried to maintain her composure. After all, she was once young and dumb, but her panicked tone gave her away.

Worried that she was about to have a heart attack, Rafael spoke up. “We’re not actually married. It’s a long story.”

You laid back in bed, looking between your mother and Rafael. “My two favorite people in the whole wide world,” you sighed.

Your mother chuckled and fluffed up your pillow. “I see they gave you the good drugs.” She pulled up a chair and sat down. “So who wants to explain why you decided to lie about being man and wife.”

*****

Once you had fallen asleep, your mother quietly left your room and went over to the vending machine running into Rafael who was getting another cup of coffee. “Long night, huh?” She gave him a sympathetic smile.

Rafael yawned in response.

“So how long have you been in love with my daughter?” she asked while deciding between a Reese’s and a Snickers bar as if she was casually bringing up the weather.

Taken by surprise, Rafael took a large gulp of coffee and burnt his tongue. “I...uh...I don’t—”

“Rafael, come on. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He looked down at the floor, focusing on his shoes before facing her. “Since the first day I met her,” he confessed.

She nodded her head and picked up her candy bar. “I suspected as much. You know she’s in love with you too,” she said.

“You think so?” he asked, following her out into the hallway and over to a small waiting area.

“Rafael, I’ve seen you two together and I know my daughter. She lights up whenever you’re around.”

Rafael was never one to express his emotions. He still had nightmarish flashbacks from high school when Lauren Sullivan turned him down in front of the entire junior class. Poor Rafael was left standing in the cafeteria with nothing but a tray of Salisbury steak, creamed corn, and humiliation. Now that his secret was revealed, he should have felt vulnerable and exposed, but instead he found comfort in your mother’s words. He was tired of hiding his feelings for you and it was a relief that someone knew. “I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid to tell her.”

“You know I was your age when I met Y/N’s father. I accidentally smacked him on the head with a sign at an anti-war protest.” She giggled, thinking back to that fateful day.

A smile tugged at Rafael’s lips. Your mother’s laugh sounded just like yours. “Really? Y/N never told me that.”

“We were madly in love for twenty years until he passed away. What I wouldn’t give for just one more chance to tell him how I feel. Tell him how much I love him.” She tilted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes shiny with tears. “So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go home, get some sleep, and tomorrow morning you’re gonna tell Y/N how much you love her. Don’t let life pass by without telling the people you love how you feel about them.” With a gentle pat to his knee, she stood up and began to walk back to your room.

Rafael followed suit and went his respective way, heading in the direction of the elevators when your mother called his name. She half-jogged over and pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you for taking such good care of my daughter.”

“I’d do anything for her,” he softly said.

“I know.” She smiled and left him just as the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside, hopeful of what tomorrow would bring.

*****

Rafael fidgeted while he waited in line at the hospital gift shop. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, nervous and excited, going over and over in his head the speech he had prepared for you. This was a crucial turning point in your relationship. Everything had to be perfect. Stepping up to the counter, he set down a single red rose and a small teddy bear with a bandaid on its head. The cashier, who was a less than enthused teenage girl wearing black lipstick and a nose ring, began ringing up the items.

“Hi,” Rafael said with a big goofy grin. “These are for my girlfriend. Well, she’s not my girlfriend yet. She’s my best friend, but I hope that’ll change soon.”

“Uh-huh,” the cashier replied.

“Yeah, she’s getting out today. Thought I would stop by early and surprise her. I had a long talk with her mom last night and she told me to just go for it and tell her how I feel and you don’t care at all do you?”

“Not really.” She loudly smacked her gum between her lips. “That’ll be $13.82.”

Rafael rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet, handing over the money. After taking his change, he grabbed the flower and bear and made his way out of the gift shop when he saw something that stopped him in his tracks.

*****

“You know I can walk. I’m not an invalid,” you grumbled as an orderly wheeled you out of the hospital with your mother in tow.

“Hospital policy,” the orderly replied.

“You’ll be on your feet soon enough, sweetheart,” your mother said. All three of you made your way outside when you noticed she was twisting her head as if she was looking for someone.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Oh, nothing. I thought maybe Rafael would show up.” She leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “I’m gonna get the car. I’ll be right back.”

While waiting, you wondered why she was expecting Rafael to show up. The poor guy was probably home, passed out in bed. Flashbacks of last night came rushing back. What started as a terrifying ordeal quickly changed the moment you saw him. The lullaby. Your fantasy life together as husband and wife. The almost kiss. But then that gnawing doubt crept back into your mind. Perhaps he was just placating you. After all, you were scared and in the hospital. He may have been saying anything at that moment to calm you down.

You continued to ruminate on the situation when you heard your name being called. Looking up, you saw none other than Chet Aldrich balancing a large bouquet of roses and a teddy bear that was almost as big as you. “What are you doing here?” you blurted out.

Chet bit his bottom lip and kicked at the pavement. “I came to apologize for leaving last night. These are for you.” He placed the flowers and stuffed animal in your lap.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly in shock by the gesture.

“Let me give you some privacy,” the orderly said with an awkward chuckle and walked back into the hospital.

Once the orderly left, Chet let out a big breath. “I’d still like to make it up to you. Maybe I can take you out on Saturday night?”

“Like a date?”

Chet blushed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, like a date.”

You thought of Rafael for a moment then quickly pushed him aside. It was time to grow up and move on. A smile slowly spread across your face. “I’d love to,” you said, unaware that you were being watched the entire time.

*****

Rafael saw the whole thing through the gift shop window. The three dozen red roses. The gigantic bear. The smile you gave Chet that made him weak in the knees. He saw how Chet tried to win your mother over with a fake laugh and a cheesy compliment on how she must be your younger sister.

Rather than walk out and be humiliated, he waited in the gift shop until you had driven away before leaving himself, throwing his measly rose and cheesy bear into the trash. There was a tightness in his chest and a wave of pain washed over him, consuming him. He couldn’t catch his breath. Placing his hand over the left side of his chest, he felt the rapid steady beating against his palm. “So this is what a broken heart feels like,” he thought as he made the long walk home alone. The dream life you had mapped out together would remain just that. A dream.

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