#black cat familiar! Yoongi

[jeonggukieverse]

So I saw you were taking requests, how about writing on this idea that Jungkook is dating someone (they have been dating for a long time) who would always smile and say it's okay whenever Jk misses out on important things of y/n's life, and the boys would constantly hint that jk should give y/n more time. Jk gets super sad once she realises that he might be not making y/n happy anymore. A fluffy ending please. 💓 I hope this isn't too much ...

Mind & Music

Pairing: Composer Jungkook x Academic Female Reader

Genre: Established relationship, Absolutely Filthy Smut, Fluff, Angsty

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), mentions impregnation

Word count: 10k+

My first fic in ages! Feels good to be writing again~ This in not proofread because I was to excited to be uploading again hahah.

This request has been in my inbox for ages, thank you for being patient anon. Love ya 

Let me know how you guys like it 

- Ryeon <3

He isn’t here. You half expected him not to be. 

Still, you found yourself gazing into the audience half expecting to see that specific mop of black hair. Again, disappointment pulls at your heart as you still don’t find it.  

You hear your name being called and it snapped you out of your disheartening thoughts. You stood up and walked over to the podium and began your speech. 

“Thank you all for coming out today. It’s a privilege to be presented with this award. I am honoured to be standing here in front of you as the youngest recipient of the universities achievement of the decade award. Though I would not have been able to do this without the support and guidance of- “ 

You pause for a moment as you saw familiar smiling faces staring back at you in the crowd. Yoongi and Tae beamed at you from the back of the auditorium. Even from so far away, you could still feel the smiles radiating from their faces. You mirrored their expressions and met their proud grins with one of your own as you continued your speech. Having them here almost made all of your butterflies flutter away. Almost. Cause only the presence of one person could have caused them to disappear completely. 

After the ceremony was over, you rushed out to find your friends. You spotted them stood by the food table munching on some snacks. Your eyes locked with Tae’s first as you ran towards both men and rugby tackled them both into a giant bear hug. 

“Y/N-ah! Please, be careful! You could have knocked over my cucumber sandwich” You rolled your eyes at Taehyung ‘smocking tone. 

“Cucumber? That’s a little bland for you Kim Taehyung”

“First of all, don’t use my government name in public and second of all, it’s the best option this place has to offer. I mean, I get it, it’s Yonsei’s international focused program so it’s going to cater to foreigners but babe, you are in Korea! Where are the spices? Where is the flavour? Where is the taste?” He ranted while wiggling the pale looking sandwich in his hand. You giggled but you couldn’t deny he was wrong. 

“Hey! As a foreigner, I do not claim this cuisine” You retorted. 

“If you say so” Tae rolled his eyes. 

You shook your head at him then turned your attention to the quiet figure next to you. 

Yoongi smiled and held his hand towards you. 

“The youngest recipient of the achievement of the decade award, huh? Very impressive” 

Coming from anyone else, that sentence would have come out as painfully sarcastic but you knew coming from yoongi, it was the highest compliment he could have bestowed on a human being. You completely ignored his attempt at a hand shake and pulled him into a tight hug instead that he gladly accepted. 

Yoongi was the first friend you had made in Korea. You had met on a language exchange app. He was the only guy you had spoken to that hadn’t asked to go ‘eat ramen’ with you, go ‘see his cat’ or ask you to join a cult. But still you carried pepper spray in your bag when you agreed to meet him at the coffee shop because stranger danger is still a thing. It turns out you didn’t need it cause Yoongi was the sweetest guy you had ever met. Blunt as hell but lovely still. You recalled fondly that upon your first meeting that he had told you that your Korean pronunciation was like an elementary school kid. Did it sting? Absolutely. Was it the last time he would say something like that? Absolutely not. But he made sure you improved and got better. He decided midway through your friendship that learning English was ‘too troublesome’ for him. He had made up his mind that listening to you speak English occasionally was the best way to learn…Sure yoongs. 

It was actually Yoongi that introduced you to your boyfriend. Speaking of 

“So where is he?” 

Yoongi’s smile dropped slightly as he absorbed your change in mood. 

“He’s in the studio with Joon. They’re still working on finalising the soundtrack.” 

You forced a smile on your face, sensing the awkwardness in his voice. 

“Ah, its okay! He’s working, I’m happy he at least has a good excuse! If he was at home playing overwatch or something, I would have been super mad” you said hoping your joking tone would mask your disappointment. 

Taehyung chuckled but you know Yoongi could read you like a book. He knew how you really felt. 

“Let’s go! The rest of the guys said they’d be at the bar, right? I want to show them how cute I look in all my graduation gear. Seokjin is going to die of jealousy cause there is no way in hell he looked this good on his graduation” 

“He’s gonna murder you for even insinuating that” Tae gasped in feigned shock. 

“I’d like to see him try” you sang as you skipped in the middle of the two men. You hooked both of your arms in theirs and pulled them towards the exit. 

“There she is!” 

This was the first thing you heard before you were met with a flurry of applause and cheers as you stepped into the bar. 

You saw the gang sat at your regular booths now decorated with pink and white balloons and confetti. The table adorned with gifts and ‘congratulations banners’. Jimin, Seokjin, Hobi and Jennie stood there holding bottles of champaign. You felt your eyes start to well up, completely touched by the kind gesture. 

“Aww you guys” you spoke, voice wavering. 

“Ha! Pay up Seokjin, I told you Y/N would start crying before she even sat down! Thanks Y/N, you just won me 50000 won” Jennie exclaimed.

“No! Technically, she hasn’t cried! No tears have fallen from her eyes. C’mon Y/N keep it together” Jin begged.

“Sorry Jin, I gotta get my girl her money” You replied, blinking hard so the tears would run down your cheeks.

The group erupted in laughter as Soekjin took out his wallet. 

“That’s enough you two. Tonight, is about Y/N. Congratulations sweetheart.” Jimin said as he pulled you into a hug. You accepted his embrace but you found yourself looking over his shoulder to see if your boyfriend was amongst the crowd. He wasn’t. 

“Yeah, it’s about me! And my goal is to be as drunk as possible by the end of the night!” you proclaimed earning you more cheers from the group. Hopefully if you’re drunk, this feeling of disappointment will eventually go away. 

And it does. After 4 shots of soju, 2 vodka lemonades and a weird cocktail concoction Jimin force fed you, you were feeling better than ever. You were on the dance floor with Jennie having the time of your life. That was until you felt arms wrap around your waist. 

Oh hell no. 

You spun yourself around ready to fight whoever in the hell thought they could touch you unprovoked. Before you could administer your first blow, you were met with a pair of beautifully familiar brown eyes. 

There he was. Jeon Jungkook. 

Your fighting stance shifted as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck to envelop him in a warm hold. You inhaled his scent as he began to lovingly plant soft kisses in the crook of your neck. You felt a familiar fire start to burn at the pit of your stomach. His innocent gesture in your drunken state was igniting a reaction in you that you were eager to explore. 

“I’m sorry baby” he whispered in your ear. 

And just like that, the feeling was gone. At those three words your vagina dried up quicker than the Sahara Desert. Cause as quickly as you had forgotten, you were reminded once again that he had let you down again. But could you be mad? He was working. This had been his dream since he was a little kid and they were so close to finalising this project, they just needed to finish to complete some final composition. Could you be mad at him? You decide once again, that you couldn’t. Once again, you put his needs before yours. You pulled away from his shoulder and met his face. You plastered a fake smile on and put on another show. 

“Baby, don’t be silly! Don’t worry about it, you’re here now, that’s all that matters.” 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll make it up to you” 

“I know you will” 

And he did. 

The next day, Jungkook took you out to a beautiful dinner to celebrate your achievement. You loved him and you appreciated the gesture, you always did. But you couldn’t help still feeling hurt. 

You supported Jungkook, you always had and you always would. 

It’s funny to think about how devoted you were to him considering how rocky your fist interaction was.

Jungkook was Yoongi’s roommate. You and yoongi had been friends now for about four months before he finally decided to invite you over to his apartment. You had to say, this made you very nervous because Yoongi had always been such a private guy. You knew enough about him to say that you were friends but he always kept himself to himself. This was a part of him that was refreshing to you, really. He was excellent at establishing boundaries. You’ve never had a friend like that before. He was very mature but also very kind and very sweet. So, when he invited you over to game night with his friends you were ecstatic. It’s finally felt like he let you in and that you became real friends. 

And as excited as you were, you were equally nervous. Yoongi had told you bits and pieces about his friends but he assured you they were all really nice. 

You were still on edge but you assured yourself that you were a pleasant person! You had come out of your shell so much in the last couple of months. Your introverted personality had been spun on its head and you were now someone completely different. The constant support from Yoongi and your advancements in your career had made you feel absolutely unstoppable. 

And isn’t it amazing? How months of character development can be wiped away in 2 seconds. 

As soon as you walked into Yoongi’s apartment, you wished you could walk right back out because the second your eyes met with Jeon Jungkook it was very apparent, he did not like you. Like, at all. 

The boy, who had previously been laughing and talking to his friend, made eye contact with you and completely shut down. The smile fell from his face and his body suddenly became stiff and rigid. He looked at you for a millisecond before tearing away eye contact completely. 

You tried to ignore him. You really did because the rest of Yoongi’s friends were so cool. They made you feel welcome and you felt almost at ease. But still, your consciousness couldn’t help but wonder over to the pale, inked up boy stood in the kitchen dressed in an oversized t-shirt and ripped black denim. 

As much as you tried to ignore it, his coldness didn’t alleviate through the night as you’d hoped. In fact, not only did it not get better; it got worse as the night went on. As everyone kept drinking more and more you felt yourself become a little bolder. What was this guys problem? You haven’t done anything to him, he had no reason to be this hostile to you.

You raised this with Namjoon, another one of Yoongi’s roommates, who assured you that Jungkook was always a little weary of strangers. He was a shy person that had great difficulty adjusting to new people. His advice was to give him time to warm up to you and when you felt ready, try and start a casual conversation. 

But it wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried that. You’d made several attempts through the night to try and speak to him to at least extend the olive branch but each time he refused running away from you as if you had some kind of disease. You were sick of it.

You saw him alone on the balcony a few hours later and realised that this was your chance. You marched up to the doors and slipped out to give this guy a piece of your mind. Hearing the noise behind him Jungkook turned his head to be met with you. Again, panic started to run through his body as he tried to make an escape around you but you would not let him. 

“What is your problem?! What did I do to you why are you so weird towards me? I know Yoongi and Namjoon said that you are very selective with your friends and that’s cool but I don’t know what I did to make you dislike me so much. Fucking hell, we just met today! What could I possibly have done that hurt your feelings so much?!” You yelled at him. Your words slightly slurred. Liquid courage was really on your side tonight cause there was no way in hell sober Y/N could yell at him like this. Especially hear on the balcony, his beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight. And the way the evening breeze ruffled through his dark locks made him look like an actual prince.  

“Woah, where did you get the impression that I didn’t like you?”

Huh?! 

His almost idiotic question quickly snapped you out of your thoughts. Was he being serious right now? Or is he just making fun of you?

“Are you kidding me? You haven’t looked at me the entire night, you haven’t introduced yourself and every time I come over to you to try and get some kind of conversation going you run off. Now tell me why are you doing all of that and not speaking to me like a normal human being !?”

“Because I think you’re pretty! And I’m intimidated by you!”

Eh? 

You remained silent for what felt like forever. Did he really just say that or did you just imagine it? No, there is no way he woul- 

“Jesus Christ, say something! Anything!” He huffed. Now putting the half empty beer bottle to his lips to stop his mouth from humiliating him even further. 

Well, Jungkook thought, if he’s going to humiliate himself may as well fully go for it. 

“You think Yoongi hasn’t told us about you? He’s told us how incredible you are. About how you’re a transfer student at the most prestigious college in Korea. About how you’re on track to be the recipient for the ‘biggest brain ever in the whole century award’ or whatever its called. He made you sound so cool; I was banking on you at least being a little bit of an asshole but again, Yoongi’s stories proved us wrong. He told us about how you willing let a random little girl sit next to you for 2 hours at a café because she wanted to practice speaking to you to improve her English. And if im being honest, the more I heard the more I wanted to meet you but when you came in today, looking as fucking beautiful as you do. Which Yoongi coincidentally forgot to mention which is funny cause he mentioned every- fucking -thing else. When you came in…”

He paused and let out a sigh. Breathing for what seemed like the first time since beginning his outburst. 

“…When you came in, I realised how far away from me you were. And I dint have any business even speaking to you. We wouldn’t have anything in common and it would make me realise how inadequate I actually am”.

There was a pause again. Slowly, you began to let out a small giggle. Your small giggle quickly erupted into a full-bodied belly laugh. Your stomach began to hurt and your eyes began to water. You had to lean on the balcony door for support as you surely felt you would pass out. 

During your breakdown, Jungkook could only stare at you his head tilted to the side like a confused bunny. His eyes fell to the floor as your laughter pierced him like a knife and was the cherry on top of his mortification. 

“And you think Yoongi hasn’t told me about you, Jeon Jungkook?” You asked as your laughter subsided. 

“Jeon Jungkook, the musical prodigy. The Jeon Jungkook that could play the piano before he could even walk. The Jeon Jungkook that everyone refers to as the Golden Maknae because you’re so good at everything. Your friends are very vocal about not just your talents in your field but also socially. Apparently, you’re the reason you guys even exist as a friend group. You were the one to make friends with each of them and bring them all together. Do you know how impressive that is?! But I’m intimidating cause I’m a little smart and I’m not mean to children? You are something else Jeon Jungkook.” 

Jungkook paused again. A chuckle escaped his mouth as his laughter then began to mimic yours. You joined him again as both of you stood on the balcony laughing with or at each other. You must have looked like maniacs but at the time both of you were too buzzed to care. 

Either way, this broke the ice between both of you as you were both able to bypass each other’s extensive achievements and finally got to know each other as people.

You’ll never forget that night. You and Jungkook sat on that balcony from 10pm to 7am, long after the others had left or gone to bed. Just talking about anything and everything until you both reached a comfortable silence.

And as the sun was rising, welcoming a brand-new morning you nudged Jungkook’s hand. His head lazily turned towards yours and he met you with a dimpled smile. 

“For what it’s worth” You smiled back. 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

That was 5 years ago and you and balcony boy have been inseparable ever since. You had now been there for every single important moment in each other’s life. Well…Almost.

3 years ago, Jungkook and Namjoon got the opportunity to produce a music score for a short film. Despite the films small budget, it managed to exceed all expectations and ended up getting nominated for a golden globe! You were ecstatic and so fucking proud of him. You felt like his talents and hard work were finally getting realised.

Little did you know it would be a bittersweet moment for yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Naturally as more eyes were on the film, more ears were listening to the soundtrack. This had your boyfriend pulled off to here there and everywhere in front of directors and movie studios all interested in investing in the musical duo. And finally they had been hired to compose an entire score to a new movie for a huge studio! This movie in particular, Jungkook had begged and pleaded for. He said the scrip and film premise really spoke to him and were perfect and he needed to compose this movie. This was such a huge deal for them and again you were over the moon. But there were downsides. During the first year after their debut you saw Jungkook 10 times that whole year. You spoke almost every day but almost every conversation ended in an argument. It was either and argument about you feeling neglected or him not feeling supported and it sucked. It really took a toll on both of you. 

The second year was much better. This time for a bit more of a selfish reason. The film studio had its own recording studio in Seoul only a 20-minute walk from yours and Jungkook’s apartment! He was finally able to be home more and you could actually spend time together. And so you did. 

Honestly, the first 6 months Jungkook was back home all you guys did was fuck. It was constant and almost none stop. You fucked in every room of the house at all hours of the day. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. 

There was a day you both decided to take a break from having sex and just play some video games together. It took you both all of 5 minutes before sonic was long forgotten about and you were bent over the sofa. 

It was very romantic really. But even that joy was short lived. 

Jungkook prioritised his art. That was one thing you’d always respected and admired about him. Even the way he talked about music that wasn’t his, he painted the emotions of the music into words to explain to you the way a piece made him feel. He could describe to you in detail the way the crescendos bend in the moments before it’s about to fall. About how the vibrations of the violins is the most romantic sound ever to grace the human consciousness. He was an artist through and through. His music was him and he was his music. They were one and could not be separated. But that raised a question for you:

Where did you fit in? 

This is what made the dinner you were on now very melancholic. It was to make up for him missing your award acceptance. 

He was sorry. You knew he was but you couldn’t ignore that this was your forth make up dinner this year: First was your birthday, second was your anniversary, third was dinner with your parents (that they had specifically flown out to Korea for) and the forth was the award. The award he knew you were on track to get before he’d even met you. The award you’d poured your heart into getting and the one you’d sacrificed so much for. But he was sorry, right? Plus, he had promised to make it up to you. Next week your professor had invited you to the university to give a special lecture to other projected recipients of the award you’d just achieved. It was a high honour as these students were the best and the brightest students from countries all over the world and of all the recipients to give the lecture, they had requested you! There have been recipients before you that had gone on to win Nobel Peace Prizes but they had specifically requested you. And Jungkook was so proud of you.

“Are you okay, little mouse? You seem a little quiet tonight”. Jungkook asked, genuine concern apparent on his face. 

“I’m just thinking bunny boy.”

“About me?” He winked at you, almost cartoonishly. 

“Bunny boy, how can you cross my mind if you never leave it” you winked back at him with the same playfully cartoonish obnoxiousness. 

“Ooh that’s going on my list” 

For the past 5 years of your relationship Jungkook has been keeping a list of things you say to him that makes him smile. This list has always confused you cause it would always be the silliest stuff. Once, when he was sleeping, you went and snooped through his notes app just to see this list and you couldn’t believe it. You were expecting the most romantic phrases or compliments that fluffed his ego but instead, the top three (out of four thousand!) were:

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home” 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

You woke him up immediately to ask about it. But his only defence was they were phrases you said that make him smile. You’re understanding of his list was ‘irrelevant’ to him. 

God, you loved him. 

“You’re so silly. But seriously Kookie; don’t worry, I’m good. Plus, you’re the one who’s been talking my ear off all night. I’m surprised you’ve even noticed me being quite” You quipped playfully, taking a sip of your wine. 

“Ooh, someone’s feisty tonight. I forgot what red wine does to you” He quipped back; eyebrows now raised highlighting the metal bar that accented it. 

God, he was cool.

“How could you forget? The first time we met I was wine drunk” 

“Ah yes, how could I forget. You get very mouthy off of red wine. Don’t worry, I know how I can put that mouth to good use” 

“Jeon Jungkook!” You yelled at him in a whisper.  Eyes darting around to see if anyone had heard your boyfriends lewd comment. Luck for you the other couples around you’re were too infatuated with their partners to even notice you guys. 

“Well, while were in pubic, put that mouth to better use and tell me about your day” he said, now leaning back in his chair. 

“Well, my day was pretty calm actually. It makes a change. I was walking Ban and bumped into Holly and Yoongi. We were talking about next week and he asked if he could bring a plus one. Wink, wink” 

“A plus one! Is Yoongi dating?! In the 12 years I’ve known the guy he has never shown romantic interest in anyone. I can’t even imagine his type. Did he give you any information”?! 

“Nah, you know how he is. Yoongi will only let you know what he wants you to know” 

“True. What’s going on next week?” 

You paused for a second and started chuckling. He was kidding. He had to be. 

The smile then fell from your face when he didn’t share in your laughter. 

“Oh my god you’re serious? You forgot about my lecture”?!

He gasped and began coughing as the bite of steak he had just put into his mouth had just gone down the wrong pipe.

“Of course not baby, how could I forget something so important to you” he continued to splutter. 

You stared back at him. The good mood you had felt a moment ago had completely evaporated. You waited for him to gain his composure so he could explain himself cause boy he had some explaining to do. 

“Just for giggles and fun and jokes, what date is your lecture again?” 

“The fifteenth” you said, shortly. 

His face fell and his eyes stayed stuck on his plate.

“Baby…Please don’t hate me. That’s the night we have the final run through of the soundtrack with the director. I can’t miss that…I’m so s- “

“You’re so sorry. Im sure you are.” You stood up. 

You grabbed your purse and you stormed out away from him. You could hear him calling your name but the burn of your throat as you fought back the tears overpowered his calls. 

How could he? No, how could you? How could you ever expect anything different. You will always be second to his first love and that was a pain you had to learn to live with. 

The moment you left the restaurant and the cold air of the night hit your face you decided to just let the tears fall. You sobbed as you walked further and further away from him. 

You heard the rhythmic pounding of laced up docks hitting the pavement behind you. 

“Y/N please I’m sorry. Just let me explain…”

“No! There is nothing you could say that would fix this! I have always been there for you! I have supported you from the very beginning! Every piece of music you have ever played for me I have cherished as if it were my own and you used to support me too! At my first presentation you were there. Cheering at the top of your lungs in a silent room. You used to be my number one cheerleader but now when all I ask of you, is to just show up? You can’t do it. And every chance I give you to fix it. You let me down. Jungkook, I need some time away from you. I’m going to be staying with Yoongi for a few days”. 

You said nothing more. You spun around and walked the 2 minutes to Yoongi’s apartment. And true to your word you stayed with them till the day before your lecture. 

Despite being a creative Jungkook worked like clockwork. Every single day at the same 3 times a day Jungkook would try to call you. The call was always followed by an ‘I love you’ text but today was different. After the second call of the day the text that followed said:

“I know this is such a fucking reach and such a huge ask but would you mind swinging around our apartment today at around 3? Director Anderson would like to speak to you. I know you probably still need your space so I’ll be in the apartment but I’ll be in the bedroom. I’ll come out only when you’ve left, I promise. Please come” 

He really had some fucking nerve. That ‘please come’ at the end of his text almost sent your blood boiling. 

“You should talk to him,” said a familiar voice. 

Your turned your whole body around on the sofa so Yoongi could see your eyes roll at his suggestion. 

“Yoongs, I feel like it shouldn’t be me your having this conversation with. You should try telling him not to break commitments to people” 

“Oh I have! That’s why I’m telling you, you need to speak to him. I know it’s none of my business but I think you guys just need to talk it out. And even if you don’t have anything to say, at least hear the boy out” he finalised before turning on his heels and heading back into his room. 

That wasn’t the speech you were expecting but it did calm you down enough to re-read Jungkook’s text. Your boiling rage had now been replaced with intrigue and curiosity. The meeting was requested by the director of the film? This was very unusual. You had heard about the director in passing but you had never spoken directly before. But you had decided that you were going to go. You we determined to look the man who practically stole your boyfriend for years in the face and lecture him about respecting his colleagues work/life balance! Plus it will be good practice for your lecture tomorrow. Two birds, one stone. 

It would be an absolute lie to say that you weren’t missing Jungkook. You knew the apartment would smell like him and you hoped you may be able to swipe one of his t-shirts to sleep in before you leave. 

You ubered over to your apartment and stood before the oak front door feeling oddly nervous. To took a shaky breath and inserted the passcode: 5318008 (you and Jungkook were children at heart cause you both laughed for hours after agreeing upon the code).

Upon hearing the beeping of the lock to confirm the door was unlocked you pushed it open. You stepped in, removed your shoes and couldn’t help the solemn smile that crept onto your face. Jungkook’s scent hit you as soon as you entered the room. 

God, you missed him. 

You strode inside and were met with a recognisable figure sitting upright on your sofa. His back stood tall and his hair was a mousy brown colour. It was so bizarre seeing him here. There was an uncanny feeling, seeing this man you knew but had never met sat in your living room.

He must have felt you staring at him because his head soon whipped around. 

“Y/N. So nice to finally meet you.” He stood up and walked over to you shoving his hand out towards you. You shook it hesitantly. His hands were cold and clammy but his eyes were warm. He was tall and chubby but he wasn’t foreboding, in fact he seemed rather friendly Damnit. You wanted him to be an asshole, it would have made telling him what was on your mind so much easier. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr Anderson” you said as coldly as you could muster. 

“Mr Anderson is so formal, just call me James. Although its strange. We’re meeting for the first time but it feels as if I have already met you” His German accent becoming more apparent as he spoke. 

“And why is that?”

“Ah, that is why I asked Jungkook to invite you over. Although it does feel strange extending you an invitation to your home” he chuckled to himself. 

He invited you to sit down on the couch, it was only then that you noticed a laptop connected to your TV. 

“What’s all this?” you asked. Genuinely curious. 

“I have a little something for you to watch. It may make explaining why I asked you hear a little more apparent. Please, have a seat my dear” he guided you to the sofa as you plopped yourself down. Eyes glued to the screen. 

You anticipated what would happen next when a familiar tune began to play. You knew it was Jungkook’s composition as soon as you heard it. Suddenly an animated mouse popped up on the screen. She was in the wings of a stage, obviously nervous but she strolled out into the spotlight in front of a stoic audience of other animals. Just as she was about to speak there was suddenly a loud whooping from the crowd that interrupted the slow score. It was a bunny. A bunny with banners and whistles and confetti and he was cheering for her. The others in the audience told him to be quite but he exclaimed ‘That’s my girlfriend’ still as proud as can be. 

The trailer played on and you slowly started to get it. It was you. This little mouse was you. Tears welled up in your eyes as yours and Jungkook’s entire relationship began to play in front of you. All your highs and your lows. It was beautiful and the accompaniment of his music made the tears pour from your eyes until it was over. 

You turned back to James and attempted to speak but only blubbers could come out. 

“Let me explain Y/N. When Jungkook and Namjoon came out to LA to play some stuff for the studio the only thing the boy would speak about, other than music, was you my dear. Jungkook and I sat for hours speaking about you. He told these elaborate stories about how you met, who you are and about the adventures you got into together. It was indeed very fascinating to me, you almost seemed like a heroine in his very own story. He bragged about your achievements almost as if they were his own. According to him, you are the smartest woman on the planet my dear and he would not be told otherwise. Oh, congratulations on the achievement of the decade award! And the youngest recipient at that? Incredible work my dear, just incredible. Jungkook went into great detail about what a huge deal that was. Needless to say the day after the networking event I went home and began writing the script for ‘Mouse & Bunny – Mind & Music’. I had just never seen someone so passionate about another person. His passion for you far outweighs his passion for his craft, that much was apparent, it was awe inspiring and I had to bring It to the screen. I think that is why Jungkook fought so hard to be the lead composer for the soundtrack. He wanted to intertwine the two loves of his life”. 

You sat there in complete shock for a moment before jumping into James’s arms and engulfed him into a hug. His moustache tickled your shoulder as he chuckled and said he was happy to have cleared things up. As he packed up his laptop, he was asking you so many questions, probably attempting to confirm the validity of Jungkook’s stories: 

“Did you really fight a microwave” 

“I most certainly did” 

“Did you really use protein powder as flour for a cake?” 

“I most certainly did” 

“Did you really not know the earth went around the sun?” 

“That son of a-… no comment” 

He snorted as he packed up the last of his things. You walked him to the door but he turned to you before saying his final goodbyes. 

“Y/N, it seems wrong for me to give the final approval for the soundtrack. I’ve heard it and I know it’s the most beautiful accompaniment to the film but it seems only fitting that the muse gets to give the final say so. Take the afternoon to listen to it and pass your notes to Jungkook. If you like it, I’ll approve it. So there should be no need for my originally planned final listen tomorrow. Jungkook seemed like he wanted to attend something much more important tomorrow anyway” He winked at you as he closed your door. 

You didn’t even wait for the door to fully shut before you were sprinting to your shared bedroom.

The pitter patter of your bare feet slapping the wood floor could almost not be heard over the beating of your heart. You bust open the door to see the love of your live leaning over his piano. 

You must have given him such a fright as his big boba eyes were the first to greet you. 

“Y/N I-“

You crashed your lips onto his, completely cutting him off. 

“I am the stupidest person in the world.” 

Jungkook laughs, standing up beside you. 

“No little mouse, why do you say that” he said with a soft smile while he caressed your tear-stained face. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t just ask! I’m so- “

“Even if you asked, I probably wouldn’t have told you. I wanted things to be a surprise. But baby, first I needed to apologise, like really apologise” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for” 

“Yes, I do. Ever since I met you, you brought light into my world. I wanted to express to you my love in the best way I knew how and this project, to me, was the best way for me to put into the world how I felt about you. But I was selfish, I took my expression of love and put it above all the things I knew you had work so hard to achieve. In a way, I put my love above yours and I will forever be sorry and I can assure you, it won’t happen again. I love you Y/N L/N” 

You reward his confession with another kiss, pulling him into your arms soon after. 

you sighed, almost longingly. “Whatever shall I do with my bunny boy?” 

“Whatever shall I do with my little mouse?” Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear, drawing soothing circles on your hip. 

He gently placed you down against your mattress. You clung to him and giggled  

You stay quiet, appreciating the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. 

God, he smelled good. 

“Okay,” he purrs, caressing your hip as he repositioned himself more securely. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh? A week away? It felt more like a lifetime” You nodded in response. Terrified that if you spoke, your voice would fail you.

Jungkook shifted, the hand that was previously on your hip swiftly fell over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my smart girl?” he hums as his hand slipped between your thighs. “My smart, pretty, intimidating girl?” 

Your eyes flutter closed and you revel in the feeling of him running his fingers over the front of your panties. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure.

“Ah,” you hissed.

“Hmm?” he says, mouthing against the crook of your neck. His mouth feels so warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “My smart girl doesn’t have anything smart to say?” 

“N-No,” you tried to scoff back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands were getting braver now as he slipped his hand beneath your waistband, and touched your wet heat head on. “Baby.”

Jungkook chuckled at your immediate submission for his touch and took the opportunity to connect his mouth back you yours. You whimpered in surprise, legs trembling as he gets to work circling your hardening bud. Your thighs are squirming, clenching around his hand every few moments. 

You bit down a whine. “I was just…” you trailed off as he teased his index and middle fingers against your opening. 

“Just what baby? Just thinking?” he said as he finally pushed himself off of you and propped himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze became a familiar dark. He moved at a godlike speed as he snatched his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs. 

Jungkook pulled away from you and rolled his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins pulling off his shirt. You had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of him. 

He threw his shirt off to the side of the bed, his sleeve of tattoos that wrapped around his bicep and crawled down his chest were wonderfully free now. “My eyes are up here, little mouse” he said and your eyes immediately shot back up to meet his gaze. He leaned towards you, muscled arms coming to cage you in against the headboard. 

“No one is looking at your eyes bunny boy” you attempted to quip back. Completely failing to mask the tremor in your voice. Jungkook always had a way of making you feel powerless under his gaze when he was on top of you like this. 

His hand grabbed beneath your knee and yanked you unforgivingly until you were slumped down onto your back with a squeak. You settled with his knee pressed directly against your core. Jungkook stayed towering over you. 

He placed his hand gently around the base of your neck as he leaned in to properly grind his thigh into you. “Is that right? No one’s looking at my eyes, huh?” he murmured darkly, thumb pressing a little harder into the side of your neck. You sobbed, soaked panties rubbing roughly against his leg. 

“Are you gonna touch me?” you interrupted, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook pursed his lips together in thought. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed. “Not too sure yet.”

You whined. “Jungkook, please,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckled, running his hand up your waist and taking your dress with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouthed at your neck. “Cute,” he cooed. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You trembled, chest heaving into him as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gulped. “You just do it better.” Jungkook followed your admission with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

You mewled in response, determined not to give him the satisfaction of answering his question. Cause you both new the answer was yes. He made you cum so much better than you could.

“Remove your clothes for me...” he whispered gruffly yet sweet as he pulled himself from you. 

You hurriedly removed the rest of your clothes you caught Jungkook’s mouth falling open in awe at the semi-nude sight of you before him. After finally removing your bra and panties, you threw them to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you observed how he licked his lips shamelessly as he took in the view of your beautifully perky nipples that drove him absolutely insane. You looked into his deep eyes, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from palming his cock over the confinements of his pants – watching you get worked up just for him. 

“Are we that type of couple, Jungkook?” you whispered his name sweetly as you slowly climb on top of him. You straddled him, pushing your breasts flush against his chest.

“Which type are you referring to?” he murmured back as his hand moved back to between your thighs – feeling the damp patch of your essence now overflowing. You felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.

“The ones who have an argument, then have angry make up sex?” you giggled as you began pressing soft, delicate kisses along his neck. Jungkook’s eyes shut tightly as he felt your teeth nip at him – causing a breath of air to leave his lungs while you began sucking on his skin – leaving your mark on him. The next thing you knew, Jungkook pulled your mouth away from his neck and flipped you over. He was now hovering over you and began continuing on you what you had started on him

“Jungkook...” you let his name occupy your mouth and your thoughts as he suckled on your skin – alternating between kissing you, biting you and dragging his teeth further south to your boobs.

“Let us see how much of a good girl you can be for me...” you suddenly felt his breath dangerously close to the mound between your legs, before his hands began kneading and gripping at your ass-cheeks. Jungkook moved his face right into you – just shy of his nose touching your folds from behind as he took in your sweet scent. He wanted to devour you whole – but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to hear you beg and plead for your own pleasure and release. You trembled at the contact of his index finger running along your slippery lips, feeling it hastily stroke your bud before he pulled it back down again – repeating the same action over and over.

 Jungkook smirked at the noises coming from you; whimpers of frustration, want and need. He knew you were like putty in his hands with the way your lewd wetness heavily coated his finger; and he would have wanted it no other way.

“Please Jungkook...please stop teasing me – I need you so fucking badly I – “you rolled your head to the opposite side – placing your blazing cheek against the pillow in an attempt to extinguish the apparent fire that was burning your entire face. You knew he was making you wait for it – and you both simultaneously loved and hated it in a hundred different ways. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, along with moans of satisfaction as his tongue continued to explore every inch of you. The scandalous sounds from his tongue and his lips filled the room as he continued to consume you. 

“I’m so close Jungkook – fuck...” you moaned a string of further curses as he sped up his movements – his finger now wiggling heavily over your clit as his tongue probed you even deeper than before.

“Are you really?” he hummed, slowing his pace as you whined in response. “Hmm...I can’t have you coming undone on me just yet little mouse...where’s the fun in that? Plus, I had to wait a whole week for you to come back. Do you think I would let you cum so quickly?” he grinned coyly as he moved away from you – licking the remainder of you off his lips as you damn near cried out in anger at being denied your orgasm when it was seconds away.

God, he’s such an asshole. 

“You can cry and whine all you want...but you’re not getting anything unless I think you deserve it; do you understand me, baby?” he cooed with the heaviest form of sarcasm you had ever heard as he began coating his erection with your wetness – giving himself a few strokes as he smirked and watched you squirm in defeat underneath him. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, before turning onto your stomach as fast as you could to avoid his arrogant gaze. 

As you laid faced away from him, all you could feel was the thick width of his cock resting between your cheeks as Jungkook took it upon himself to slowly grind himself into you – giving him the minimal amount of pleasure and you the maximum amount of excruciating frustration.

“Yes! I understand...please...I’ll do anything, please!” you shamelessly pleaded – hearing the desperation in your own voice as you moved your ass backwards into him. Jungkook chuckled before he began sprinkling light kisses the whole way up your spine – the fleeting feeling of his lips leaving damp patches on your skin being enough to make it feel like he was burning you with desire for more of him.

“Good girl” Jungkook praised you – letting you feel the tip of his cock resting just on top your drenched entrance. And – without warning, he quickly eased himself in as far as he could go; hearing you let out breathy moans and whimpers as he pressed deeper.  

“Louder” he commanded as he leaned back – looking down to view his member leave your tight walls – much to both of your displeasures. “I want the entire world to know who’s fucking your pussy like this right now” he slammed back inside you, feeling your slickness engulf him as your screams filled the room. 

“That’s it Y/N, that’s my good girl” Jungook growled as he began pounding you into you at an unforgiving pace. You cried and sobbed feeling his cock reach deeper inside you with each time his skin smacked against yours. Jungkook relished in the look of your ass every time it bounced off his lower abdomen as he continued pummelling into you mercilessly – when he saw your hand reach back to try and hold his. Knowing that you needed to feel the security of his grasp, Jungkook leaned over your back and laced his fingers with yours – giving you fast, deep strokes of his cock while you felt it slam against your precious nerves inside you. Jungkook knew you were already on the verge of letting go from the way your voice got louder and higher – along with your walls constricting around his member so tightly that he had to almost hold his breath to not finish before you.

“Cum for me – you earned it sweetheart, let go and let me hear your beautiful voice” he cooed into your ear. And, like his words were the only thing that could set you free, you came hard around him while you closed your eyes tight as you felt your orgasm pour out of you. Jungkook coaxed you through your cries of ecstasy as he slowed his thrusts down – still keeping their depth while his groans harmonised with your own voice in the wake of your pleasure. And, just as quickly as it came, your high left your body – leaving you slumped face down into the pillow with no will to do much else other than breathe. You felt Jungkook slowly slide out of you – feeling the emptiness he left behind while he began pulling you up and back into his chest, his hands then roaming over every inch of your skin he could find.

“Did that feel good, baby?” he purred, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and letting you know that he was still standing to attention with the way his member pressed into your ass. You let out an airy chuckle, still not able to maintain a coherent train of thought.

“Mmhm” you hummed, reaching behind you to let your hand rest on the back of his neck, letting your fingers get lost in his hair as Jungkook dotted your neck with kisses once more.

“I can’t get enough of you – no matter how much you give me, no matter how much I take...” he murmured on top of your skin, making you shiver from head to toe and smile from ear to ear.

“What are you waiting for then, bunny boy?” you replied, turning around to him and coming face to face with his dark hooded eyes. “I want you to take more...take me, Jungkook” you mewled as Jungkook’s hands began caressing all his favourite parts of you – your hips and the tops of your thighs included. 

You swapped positions and you positioned yourself on top him. As you did, Jungkook quickly pulled his legs underneath your bottom before crossing them below you, while you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist so that you were both in a sort of Lotus Flower position. You looked down, seeing his head perfectly level with your tits as he began kissing and nipping at your hardened nipples – making you reel from the sensitive sensation that coursed through you. You observed his hand as it slipped underneath you – grabbing a hold of his pulsating member and angling it right before your welcoming entrance once again.

“Baby...aren’t you forgetting something?” you questioned immediately in reference to the fact that he was about to enter you whilst you both found yourself in the most romantic baby-making position known to man. Jungkook shook his head as he looked up into your eyes, his stare completely melting you from the inside out.

“I want to feel you when I cum inside you...I want to make you mine in every way possible...will you let me?” his husky voice travelled to every single part of your soul as you let your mouth hang agape. 

“But – what if...you know?” you replied, wondering how he felt about the most obvious thing that could happen from not using protection. 

“You have nothing to worry about, Y/N” he whispered softly, feeling himself press against your small opening as the tip of his cock became engulfed by your slick tightness. “’If it happens, it happens. I would want no other woman to mother my children” you both let out an intense moan in turn as he pushed his way inside you. When Jungkook thought about you carrying his first child and bringing the product of your love into the world; with him becoming a father and you becoming a mother, it filled him with delicate feelings of paternal happiness he knew he could never feel with anyone else but you. 

You bit your lip hard as you rolled your hips at a rhythmical pace into his – feeling every inch of him curving inside you. Jungkook placed one hand below your bottom, while cradling your back with his free arm as a means to let you set the pace of your love making, but still letting him have full control over your every movement. You felt wave after wave of pleasure strike you as your clit moved flush against Jungkook’s body that was tight against yours; and your moans continued to spill from your lips as he looked up into your face – his eyes full of life and love as he seemingly peered right into your soul. In contrast to Jungkook’s way of asserting himself over you just moments ago, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he let his mouth hang open – panting and groaning at the feeling of pleasure from being inside you and so close to you.

“I love you...so much, Jungkook” you managed to speak – feeling your body almost grow limp from having little to no energy left as you felt your sweat drip down your temples. Sensing your exhaustion, Jungkook helped you lay down on your back to the bed – keeping himself still lodged inside you as he rested himself between your legs. His thrusts were slow, deep and meaningful as he pressed his forehead to yours and took your hands in his – pinning them to the bed while he felt your pulse rocket as he pushed you once again to your second orgasm of the evening. You felt like the entire world was spinning as you attempted to moan and writhe in fulfilment – but unfortunately, no sound left your mouth as you produced a silent cry in the wake of Jungkook’s pleasure-filled stokes that reached deeper and deeper within you.

“And I... I love you Y/N” Jungkook’s lips found yours for the millionth time as he felt himself twitch inside of you – his entire seed mixing with your juices as he came deep within you. He tensed every single one of his muscles, letting you swallow each of his moans as he slowed down gently.

“I’m so happy that you’re mine...” he almost whimpered as his movements ceased – before letting himself collapse on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck while you raised your arms up and over his back to hug him even closer to you.

“And I’m so happy that you’re mine, too” you kissed the top of his head – still feeling his cock buried inside of you as you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 

Jungkook raised his head a fraction to look at you – his appearance both thoughtful and endearing as he held on to you. “I really am sorry Y/N. I never want you to feel like your aren’t a priority to me” he blinked gently as you continued to listen to his heartfelt, post love making thoughts.

“I know” you replied quietly, tracing the muscles along his back with your fingers. “And I’m sorry too. I guess we both just need to communicate a little better”.

“My Y/N – You are my world. You – you are my everything. I used to not understand what people meant when they said that to someone they loved, because before you – I thought music was my only love. But every day I spend with you, you give me a hundred more reasons to adore you. I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove that.”

You felt yourself well up at his words of endearment. He really was your world and you now knew for a fact that you were his too. 

“Ooh, I forgot to say” you interrupted yours and Jungkook post love making silence. 

“James said I could approve the soundtrack for our film” 

Jungkook smiled to himself upon hearing you refer to it as your film. 

“If that’s what James said, who am I to undermine the director.” He declared. 

“The songs are on my phone in the Media Folder but im gonna hop in the shower while you listen. Cause it will break my heart if you don’t like them” he chuckled, half joking half serious. 

“I know im going to love them babe. But you go and take your shower, I’ll be right here when you come out”. 

He left with a smile. 

You scrolled through his phone to find the music files and tears began to fill your eyes once again as you read the tracklist: 

“I’d fight a microwave for you”

“You smell like home” 

“I think you’re pretty and I’m intimidated by you too” 

And the list went on. It was his list. His list of your phrases that made him smile. Before you could even finish reading the tracklist, you ran to the shower you embrace your bunny boy and show him for a second round how much you loved him. 

Although, if you had taken just a few moments to read the tracklist, Jungkook is sure you would have loved the last song on the soundtrack. It was the only title that wasn’t you contribution, it was his: 

12. “I hope she’ll marry me”

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

Hope ya'll enjoyed it! My requests are open, feel free to send em across :)

[jiminscockr1ng]

✩｡°𝄞🚨D-TOWN BABY 𝄞✨°｡✩

╝ •part one | part two ╔

╰₊𓂂➢ pairing: gang affiliated!yoongi x fem!reader

╰₊𓂂➢ genre: hood au, bother’s best friend au, smut, angst

╰₊𓂂➢ warn!ngs: use of the n-word, aave, [mentions of drugs, drug dealing, death, smoking and drinking], negligence due to use of drugs (reader’s mother), reader is heavily black coded, cat-calling, riding, oral (reader receiving), swallowing semen. (let me know if there’s more please!)

╰₊𓂂➢ summary: yoongi is apart of a gang called d-town, the gang your brother just so happens to be apart of.

╰₊𓂂➢ word count: 5,625 words

╰₊𓂂➢ author’s note: the inspiration came from me shouting “D-TOWN NIGGA!” at my sister while watching the Daechwita music video. lmao, i hope y’all enjoy it.

The headlights of your black honda civic shines on the group of men huddled together on the steps of the project building.

Smoking, drinking, talking and laughing loud as hell, and hitting licks.

You huff while turning your car off. Stepping out, your long, fern green skirt flows with the wind. Cleavage hanging out of your bohemian patterned shirt. As you approach the ran down project building you can hear the men on the stairs whistling at you.

You roll your eyes at the gang members who are shouting and cat-calling loud as hell— the whole block could hear.

“Damn Ma, can I get a 360?!” One of them call out. Before you could even flip him off, two familiar voices chime in.

“Chill, nigga.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

They say at the same time. The two voices could easily be distinguished as Trey (your brother) and Yoongi (your brother’s best friend).

Or their street names: Tre D and Agust D. The ‘D’ standing for D-Town. To which you find corny as hell because you all literally live downtown. All these corny ass niggas’ names end with D.

Once you’re right in front of the group of men your brother nods his head at you. That’s just him acknowledging your existence. The two of you have a complicated relationship. It’s only complicated because you don’t like his lifestyle (respectfully) but he won’t stop gang banging.

Nonetheless, you’d still take a bullet for that man. Vice versa.

“Yo, _______.” Yoongi speaks. From the looks of it, you can already tell he’s about to say some stupid shit. He has that sorry ass smirk on his face and keeps glancing around at his little posse. Leaning your weight on to one leg, you simply arch your brow at him.

“You gon’ let me tuck you in?” Your stoic expression remains the same. A few giggles are heard and your brother shakes his head. Trey is more than used to Yoongi making advances at you— he’s been fiend out for damn there 8 years.

Yoongi looks you up and down, adjusting his duffel bag on his shoulder. You smack your teeth and harshly brush past the men blocking your way up the stairs. Prior to entering the building you yell back at the long haired, pale man.

“Tuck your dick!”

SLAM! You slam the door shut, you can hear the distant instigating behind the door as you walk up the stairs to the shared apartment. Mumbling curse words on your way up.

Yoongi’s smirk never leaves, despite the instigation his crew nagged on about. He likes that shit. He loves it. Your hot temper and all of it. He knows that if he wanted to he could shut you right up. But you being mad at him kind of turns him on… so he’ll let you have it.

You’d prefer a nice and quiet, empty pathway to your home when you get off from work. You go through enough stress as it is. Another headache is exactly not what you needed.

Stepping foot into the dark apartment, you set your purse down and walk to your room, ready to get in the shower after a long day. The apartment is fairly big compared to the other units. More than enough space for you and your brother. Although, for the past year it’s really just been you occupying the space.

Trey is never home. He’s out and about being Tre D. He stopped coming home about a little over a year ago. It’s just gang related activities after the other, selling drugs, hanging out with D-Town and fucking random girls. Repeat.

It’s reasonable that you gave up on trying to stop him. He’s a grown man now and you can’t sit around all day to inspect your little brother’s everyday life to make sure he’s doing ‘the right thing’. He’s only 2 years younger than you but you always acted as a mother figure. Taking over that role after your mother got sprung out on crack and left you both.

Working your ass off everyday, feeding him and yourself, trying to make sure he’s doing well in school— all a waste of time. Now look. He’s outside of your shared apartment, probably not even going to come up stairs and is making way more money than you.

You regret the day he met those guys. And you regret even more when he dragged Yoongi along with him.

The thought of Yoongi makes you sigh. You pick up your towel to get in the shower, blasting Lauryn Hill as you lather your brown skin with smell-good soap. You manage to decompress in the shower. Tracking wet footprints to your bedroom as you approach the window, you look outside to see if they’re still there.

Yes. Yes they are. Your brother seems to be leaving and you can’t help but notice someone is missing from the gang.

And almost on queue— as if the devil himself set it up… you hear the front door opening. Letting out a groan, you go and peak out of your bedroom door.

“No need to hide, babygirl. Come on out.” Yoongi calls.

You roll your eyes before slamming your door. But like you figured, the door opens right back up and in comes Yoongi. He silently stands in front of the door after he closes it behind him, observing your figure that is semi-hidden behind the white towel you have on. Yoongi already has a little stiffy just by looking at you.

“Stop calling me babygirl you freak, I’m older than you.” You say, responding to the comment he made. He chuckles, walking over to sit on your bed while you apply lotion on your legs. He drops his duffel bag on the ground next to him.

“Yeah, by like a few months.” Looking down at him, you noticed that he’s man spreading, leaning on his arms that are propped up behind him on the bed. Refraining from gulping, you look away.

You don’t respond to him. Instead, you continue on with your nightly routine, pretending that the fine man is not sitting on your bed ready to pounce on you the second you say go. You can hear shuffling behind you as you fix your locs, putting them in the ponytail.

“_______, I got you something.” He says and you reluctantly turn around. This man really doesn’t learn or care to catch a hint. In his hand is a book. A book that you’ve been searching for everywhere and is sold out.

“How…” is all you can mutter out. Out of all of Yoongi’s highly prestigious and unusual gifts he attempts to give you, this has got to be the best one yet. Best, because you actually wanted it. Not that that Birkin Bag was easy to donate— that was a struggle.

“Uh— I saw you were looking for this shit everywhere on your spam.” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Why the hell are you on my spam page?!”

“So I had drove damn there 2 fucking hours to get this shit.” He says, ignoring the previous question.

You love it. You want to snatch the book out of his long slender fingers, throw your bonnet on and start reading immediately. But—

“I can’t take that Yoongi.” The sentence isn’t something that he hasn’t heard before. You tell him every single time he comes up to your apartment trying to hand you something he bought for you. You never take shit from him and if you do, it gets donated almost immediately.

He scoffs. Honestly looking a little pissed off— fed up to be exact. “What do you mean you can’t take it? Didn’t you hear me, _______?” He stands up, book still in hand. “I drove 2 hours for a fucking book!” He exclaims.

It’s not like you’re meaning to be a bitch. You’d just rather not take anything that was bought with drug money. Even the book you’ve been dying to read for months.

“Listen Yoongi—”

“Agust D.” He corrects.

“I’m not calling you that shit!” A smile cracks onto his face. Just a small one. Because, as mentioned before, he loves that shit. But he’s still fed up.

“I can’t take that. It’ll be donated just like the other gifts you attempt to bribe me with.” You say and he sets the book on the bed, stepping closer to you. “I’m not bribing you _______. I just wanna spoil you, just let me do that.”

“No! I don’t want anything you or my brother buy with your fucking D-Town money. You can keep all of that shit!” You roar while waving your arms around. He sighs, running his fingers through his long black hair, letting it fall back in place. “Money is money, _______.”

“I’m not doing this with you, Yoongi.” Arguing with him back and forth is like arguing with a wall. You two could go on and on about the lifestyle he and Trey are choosing to live.

Yoongi walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don’t pull away. Despite how stubborn you are, you’d never deny Yoongi’s touch whenever you feel him. It’s instant stress relief.

“I’m trying, _______.” He calmly says in your ear. The disembodied voice— so husky yet smooth. It sends shivers down your back and all of the hair on your arms stand tall.

“Try harder then.”

“Why are you like this?” You scrunch your face up. “Like what?!” You can feel him shrug his shoulders behind you.

“Like… stubborn and petty.” Offended, you scoff.

“Stubborn and petty like your mama?” It was a quick little insult— a joke! Everyone says it. Plus, you had to think of a come back quick or else you know Yoongi would’ve known that you knew what he said was partially accurate. But when you feel the tight hold Yoongi had around your waist loosen… you knew you fucked up.

“You know my moms’ is dead.” You immediately twist your body around to face him, your towel nearly unraveling. You quickly catch it. “Omg, I did not mean it like that, for real. I was just saying shit!” You ramble on and on about how you don’t think before speaking and how sorry you are.

Then he laughs. Like actually laugh. Not a corny little smirk or the low chuckle he does when he’s around his boys— not even a light smile. He gave you his infamous, gummy smile, shoulder bouncing laugh. He even threw his head back for a second.

You really couldn’t help but smile. You missed that laugh. Having been reunited with it after so long makes you forget everything said and done. Because that’s the Yoongi you know, the Yoongi you grew up with, the Yoongi you loved. You smile at the taller man still looking at you with that cute gummy smile even after the laughter died down.

“Stop apologizing _______, I was just fucking with you.” You scoff but the smile never fades, even when you playfully punch his shoulder. “That’s not funny!” He nods his head in agreement as if he wasn’t just literally laughing his ass off.

“It was just funny seeing you speak like that. First time in mad long you didn’t have that stick that you love so much up your ass.” Looking up at him, you can’t even be mad at what he just said. Not when all the old feelings were suddenly rushing back in. The ones you fought off years ago.

“Yeah,” you switch your focus onto the ground. “It was nice seeing you laugh like that.” His fingers lightly grip your chin to lift your head back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart is doing backflips but in your head there are a million different alarms going off, screaming ‘abort!’.

“You always make me laugh. Whether I’m laughing around you or at home in my bed, laughing about something that you said. You make me…” He trails off making you furrow your eyebrows a bit.

“Make you what?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head, looking out of the window. You shove his shoulder to get his attention again. “Make you what?!” He looks down at his shoes as if the answer was written on them. They weren’t. You checked.

“You make me… hmmph.” He mumbles and you slap your hands on your naked thighs in frustration. You grip his face in your whole hand to get him to stop looking around the room helplessly, like a mother trying to force feed their child.

“What!” You scream.

“Happy!” He reciprocates the volume, eyes going wide when he finally lets the shit flow free. Your hand slowly drops from his face. “Damn— satisfied?” He sassily asks, rolling his eyes. Too in shock to even say anything, you just stand there with your eyebrows high, looking like a dumbass.

“_______,” he starts, earning you attention. So many thoughts sprint through your mind as you stare up into his sharp brown eyes. It’s really hard to believe that after everything, he still found happiness in you. You can’t recall the last time you felt happy in Yoongi’s presence. The man that you once loved. You and Yoongi never dated, never slept together, never really announced any feelings for each other either. The relationship the two of you had was unspoken. You knew the love was there— he did too, and that was enough.

“I need you to know, that I want you.” He says seriously. Your heart drops at the words. No.

No, not now. Why now?

“I want us, _______.” You could melt underneath his gaze. You feel yourself slowly folding. Ready to submit and give into him— give into your heart that’s been begging to be his for 7 years now. “Tell me you want this too.”

Yes, tell him you want this. Want all of him. Because you do… but you can’t. It’s not the same. This is not the same as it was 7 years ago. Yoongi isn’t the same. You can’t do it.

“I can’t— I don’t… want this.” You try to stand strong but you’re weak. Yoongi always did that to you. “You don’t or you can’t— which one is it?” He says, already knowing the answer. He needs to hear it from you though. You sigh, closing your eyes. “Yoongi—”

“No _______ tell me right now why you can’t just let us be happy?” Yoongi’s frustration is valid. But so is yours. You try to walk away from him, to get away, like those alarms that kept going off in your head a few minutes ago told you to do. But Yoongi isn’t having it. He already laid his heart out there, he just wanted you to take it— for it to be yours. So he grabs your arm. “Don’t walk away from me.” You yank your arm back immediately.

“I fucking can’t Yoongi! You want me to stand here, laugh, ‘kee-kee’ in your face. Tell you I want you and that I want this just for you to go back to the streets the next second someone calls you.” You’re out of breath from all of the screaming, no doubt the neighbors were gonna report. But you aren’t done.

“D-Town tells you to jump, you ask how high. I ask you to get your life together, to get off of the streets and I’m left with the same answer. I’m not gonna be one of those bitches that hold you down when you decide to get into some dumb shit and I’m damn sure not gonna be the person people have to get in touch with because their fucking boyfriend died doing some fuck shit.” The undertone of your face is red and your hands are shaking. “It’s bad enough my brother is in to deep. I’m not trying to have to worry about someone else.”

Yoongi’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he takes in everything you said. You’ve never been this vulnerable. With anyone. You’ve never said any of this to anyone but you don’t want to keep having the same interactions over and over with him.

“I understand.” Is all he says. And it’s all he has to say. You know he’s not gonna quit the streets until the streets quit him. After all, that’s how it works. But he really did understand and if that’s how you feel he won’t push it.

“Can I just lay with you?” Before you can even protest he raises his hands to clarify. “Just for tonight. Can you please… just do this for me? Let me lay with you.” You sigh, over analyzing the possibility. In the end you conclude it was fine. So you grab your pajamas and change in the bathroom. When you come back in, Yoongi is already laying in the bed. Shirtless and wearing nothing else but the pair of basketball shorts he had in his bag. The book resting on your nightstand.

Your pajamas includes a sage green tank top and a beige pair of cotton shorts. You lie next to him in your bed after cutting the lights off. His body instantly cuddles into yours.

“Yoongi,” you call out. “Your head is on my boobs.” He chuckles into the pair before raising his head to look at you. “You used to always let me lay on your boobs. They’re comfortable.” He says with a faint pout, poking your plushy boobs with his finger, making you flinch.

“Yoo— will you stop poking me!” You say frustratedly. “It tickles.” Yoongi perks up at that. “It tickles, huh?” He sings, continuing to poke you. His fingers pokes at your chest, your sides, your neck. You try to fight him off but your laughter is making you weak. “Stu— stop!” You cry out and he just giggles at your plea. It’s really over once he hovers his body over yours, locking yours in place underneath him.

Your face hurts from laughing so hard, can’t even manage to fight it anymore. The poking eventually stops but the soft giggles and toothy smile on your face doesn’t falter. Yoongi’s eyes sparkle as they bore into yours. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, thumb caressing your lifted cheekbone.

“You’re so pretty, _______.” He observes your features from above and his heart pounds against his chest. The pace aligned with yours. “Sometimes,” he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I forget just how pretty you are. So I come to bother you— just to see you. But when I have you this close… you make me want to leave everything else behind just so I can be with you.”

That’s all you really wanted. For Yoongi to leave all the bullshit alone. Maybe then you two could work.

But you know that all of this is just pillow talk. Yoongi would never do that. Not for you. Not for anyone. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Yoongi.” You speak mellowly. He lifts his head out of your neck to look at you again. “I can’t tell you how I feel now?” You roll your eyes. “You can but don’t sit here and lead me on to believing in a lie.”

He doesn’t respond. You feel his lips on your cheek. Eyes widening, you look at him in confusion. “What are you—”

“I’m not lying to you, _______.” He kisses your forehead. “Even with everything that happened, no matter what you say to me— I never told you a lie and I don’t plan to.” He leans in to give you another kiss but pauses. His face just an inch away. Your breath hitches at the close proximity, growing nervous when his eyes focus on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers softly against your lips. Your mind isn’t working. There’s no alarms blaring, no weird gut feeling, just you. Underneath him. Without much thought, you mutter a breathy “yes.”

He leans in, his lips molding perfectly with yours. It’s soft and passionate and you’re worried that you just might have a heart attack the way your heart is pacing. Your fingers travel their way through his long strands of hair as you happily taste the minty flavor of his mouth— covering up the taste of cigarettes. When he pulls away to catch his breath, you immediately pull him back down. Now that you got a taste of him, you don’t want to let it go.

The kiss starts getting heated when Yoongi rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him. His hands roam the surface of your back, letting them slip under your tank top. You bite on his bottom lip once you pull away, letting your soft brown hands travel up his abdomen to his solid chest. Your back arches as you leave open mouth kisses against his chest. He takes the opportunity to cup your ass into his hands, occasionally squeezing the fleshy rump.

You slightly shift your hips up against him to lift up. “Fuck,” Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Don’t move like that.” You furrow your brows in confusion but you quickly understand when you feel something poking your thigh. In shock, you shift again. A low groan leaves Yoongi’s mouth and he places his hands on both sides of your waist.

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, the action and the sound he let slip gave you that tingling feeling in your stomach, that familiar sensation fluttering in between your legs. You do it again. Wanting to hear that sound from him again.

“Seriously, you don’t want this to go further than it already has.” True. You don’t, but you’re a little too lust filled to think straight. And the fact that Yoongi is hard as a rock underneath you has you wet. Grinding your clothed sex onto his bulge.

“Yo, I—”

“Shut up.” You say, placing your hands on his chest to support yourself as you grind against him. The lewd sounds that escape from both of your mouths flood the room. Yoongi’s basketball shorts get bunched up in the process, the repeated action dragging the band down, exposing his boxer briefs underneath.

You lift your hips up to pull the shorts down but Yoongi stops you. He sends you a warning look that reads, ‘don’t do this.’

Regardless, you enthusiastically yank them and his boxer briefs down his thighs, letting his dick stand tall against his lower stomach. “_______, you’re confusing me.” He says while you’re busy scrapping to get the clothing from around his ankles, satisfied when they hit the floor. You turn around, looking down at him once again.

“You’re confused? Hm, I thought you were hard.” Speaking sarcastically, you turn your focus onto Yoongi’s member. You grip his length in your hand, brushing your thumb over his sensitive tip making Yoongi twitch.

“A little bit of both honestly. I mean, mostly hard but— woah woah woah, stop!” Yoongi panics once you put your mouth on his dick. He immediately sits up, his back resting against the head board. “I’m not doing this with you.” He says, to which one of your eyebrows flick up.

“Why not?” You scoff. “You don’t seem to have any problem fucking all these other bitches.” Yoongi lets out an unamused laugh, wiping his hands over his face. “You’re not other bitches. You don’t throw yourself on my dick.”

“I just did!” Technically, you did.

Yoongi scoffs, mumbling something under his breath. “It’s not the same thing. You’re invested in this _______ and you know it.” You turn your head away from him, not wanting to hear the truth. “I don’t need you to have another reason to hate me.” Rolling your eyes—

“I don’t hate you.”

“You’re just saying that.” You shake your head, scooting closer to him. “I’m not. I don’t hate you, Yoongi.” You repeat, your fingers go to his hair and you focus on the way his dark hair fall on your skin before looking at him again. “And right now… I’m horny, so.” You sit in front of him, anticipating his response.

“Okay.” He shrugs.

“Okay, what?” He grabs your waist gently, pulling you closer to him. Your lips lock onto his again and this time, the pace quickens. Yoongi’s hands reach for your tank top to pull it over your chest, you lift your arms as he pulls it off, slinging it across the room. Like clockwork, you drag your shorts down as well, tossing them in the corner without a care in the world.

Yoongi’s hands roam all over your body. Taking in the feel of your body being close to his. He retracts from the kiss to drool over your body. His pale hands over your brown skin, the only source of light coming from the window. “What do you want me to do, _______?” He asks, palming your breast in both hands. You bite your lip as you look down at him touching you.

“Can I ride you?” You ask in a whisper and you could’ve swore you felt Yoongi’s dick twitch on your thigh right after the words fell off your tongue. He felt like doing a backflip. An ability he doesn’t have but that’s how you make him feel. It’s just like you to want to ride him— it being your first time even having sex with each other.

“Fuck yes.” You let out a giggle at Yoongi’s expression before leaning over to open the top drawer of your nightstand. His eyes travel with your every movement. “What are you doing?”

“Grabbing a condom.” You popped out. He purses his lips at that. “Guess I’m not the only one you’ve been wrestling in the sheets with.” Looking back at the man with the condom in your hand, the jealous look on his face makes you want to run over to your phone to take a picture. Instead you laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You say, ripping open the packet. “I bought them because they’re a necessity. I’m not fucking anyone— but i’m glad I did buy them.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “I’d rather not have the neighborhood’s dick in me raw.”

It’s almost comedic the way his jaw drop. “Neighborhood’s dick is cuh-razy!” Slipping the condom on his length, you let out a giggle. Once you’ve got it on all the way you grip his shoulders, lifting your cunt over it. “It’s okay,” you jokingly reassure. “I’ll make sure to give you a good rating.”

“Oh, you got jokes— oh shit.” His demeanor changes once you rub his tip against your wet slit. “Are you—,” He reaches out to drag a finger through your folds. “You’re mad wet.” He states the obvious and when he pulls his finger away, your arousal drags with it. Without a second thought, he lifts his finger to his mouth, sucking on it to taste you. A low moan leaves his mouth. His eyes never leaving yours.

“You ready or did you change your mind?” You shake your head slowly, feeling more aroused than ever. “I’m ready.”

Once again, you maneuver his length through your folds before aligning it at your entrance. You take a deep breath and Yoongi’s hands rub your back. You slowly lower yourself down his length, feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. Your mouth falls agape when his full length is inside of your cunt.

After a few more rounds you get used to it. Yoongi stares at the action of your pussy swallowing his length. Your pussy is so tight around him, he’s afraid he might cum too fast.

He curse in your ear as you begin to ride him faster. “Fuck— you’ve been holding back on me for all these years.” Yoongi moves his hips, helping thrust into you. Your tits jump along with you as you bounce on his cock. So deep, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes throughout the quiet apartment.

“Ah, Yoongi!” You moan out and Yoongi feels himself growing light headed. “You’re making me go crazy, _______.” He slams into your pussy faster— harder. At this point you weren’t even moving. Yoongi was the one in control of your body.

Especially when he moves you off of him, switching positions to take full control. You lie on your back, abandoned pussy and all. “Yoongi, put it back in.” You beg.

He shushes you before bending down, face in between your legs. His mouth attacks your wet cunt. He flatten his tongue to fully taste your sex. Licking and sucking all of you. His mouth sucks on your clit making you scream out in pleasure while his three fingers abuse your hole. “Yoongi, fuck that feels so good.” He slightly smirks up at you.

“Tell me whose pussy this is.” He says lowly. You could’ve came right then and there just from how sexy he said it. All dominant and territorial. The way he looks— his long dark hair sticking to his face and neck.

“Yuh— oh my god!” You moan out as your legs begin to shake at the overwhelming stimulation of his mouth and fingers.

“Tell me.” He demanded a bit louder.

“Yours Yoongi! It all yours, mm.” His fingers moves faster and you grip the sheets for moral support. “F- Fuck me Yoongi. I want your dick inside me.” It doesn’t take long before he obeys. He lifts up, just before you could orgasm and slides his hard dick inside of you. With Yoongi in control now, the pace is much faster. He lifts one of your legs up, putting it over his shoulder for better access.

Going deeper inside of you, hitting all of the right spots. You pull him down towards your body, your nails digging into his back, creating little crescent moon shaped marks. Chest to chest, Yoongi penetrates your pussy as the two of you share a feverish kiss.

“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.” You say against his lips, out of breath. He rapidly nods his head. “Cum, mm.” His thrusts slow down, instead he makes sure to go deeper, hitting your spot repeatedly, making your legs shake around him. “Cum for me, _______.”

A few thrusts later and you cream on his dick. He pulls out, slips off the condom and starts stroking his dick. You place your hands over his, moving your mouth towards his tip. When the long drags of warm semen pour out you catch every drop of it. Mouth wide open, tongue out— you swallow his cum. Licking the tip afterwards for good measure.

Yoongi’s heavy breathing fills the room as he collapses on the bed. You get up to throw the used condom out and to collect your pajamas off the floor, walking with a bit of a limp. You toss Yoongi his basketball shorts before cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and changing.

When you come back, you find Yoongi already in his basketball shorts lying on the bed still. “Not gonna dip?” You ask, trying to sound nonchalant. You don’t want him to go but you don’t need him to know that. You were just awfully vulnerable and something similar to regret is already creeping up on you.

“Naw, why would I?” You shrug before laying in bed next to him. Not even being able to position yourself, he makes sure he cuddles into you, your face close as hell to his. “So how was the neighborhood’s dick?” He jokingly asks, laughing after. You lightly punch his chest.

“I’m not finna play with you Yoongi.” Yoongi serves you a feigned pout. “Awe, you regretting it already?” You don’t say anything because you really don’t know if you are. You don’t regret the sex because— fuck that was amazing. Best dick you ever had and you really will give him a good rating. However, the things that were said could’ve stayed unsaid. You shared too much vulnerability and that’s not something you’re comfortable with. The last thing you need is Yoongi to throw any of that shit back up in your face.

“I don’t regret it.” You conclude. His arms wrap around your waist tighter, grabbing one of your legs to wrap it around him. “But it won’t happen again. This was a one time thing.”

“But you swallowed my cum.” He pouts again and for some reason you don’t think it’s feigned this time. So you lightly smack his lips. Too much of a distraction.

“Because I didn’t want to get my covers dirty, you freak.” He dramatically raises his eyebrows. “So now I’m back to being a freak.” You sigh because it seems like he’s purposely not paying attention to what you’re actually trying to say.

“Yoongi.” You say seriously making him nod his head. “Okay, I got it. it was a one time thing.” Despite his display of understanding, you can’t help but hear the underlying disappointment in his voice.

You lay in his arms for hours. Neither of you fall asleep, replaying the previous events in your head. You debate with yourself whether or not you’re being in denial, too petty, stubborn, unreasonable. Whether or not you should give Yoongi a chance. Because right now you feel safe. Right now, everything is okay while your head rests against his beating chest. Right now…

“AGUST D GET YO’ ASS DOWN HERE NIGGA!”

You jump. You and Yoongi both lift up— your face of shock is a bit different from his. He knows what it is and you think you do too. That’s why you’re shook as fuck. The shouting and calling through the window doesn’t stop. And when Yoongi arms unravels from your waist, your heart sinks.

“What is that?” You ask.

And when that same, familiar, sorry ass, corny ass smirk that you hate so damn badly form onto Yoongi’s face… you knew.

“That’s D-TOWN BABY.”

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[theharrowing]

Denim & Strawberry

When Yoongi gets invited to watch his crush perform, he has no idea what to expect. Jimin stripping on stage and singing a sultry little number while tugging on his hair is definitely not what Yoongi had in mind, but who is he to complain?

"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show." Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"

🍓 Yoongi x Jimin

🍓 word count: 19.6k 🙈

🍓 friends to lovers, burlesque au, porn without plot, tooth-rotting fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

🍓 warnings: top yoongi, bottom jimin. jimin has pink hair and yoongi has a half-up top-knot. this is more or less porn with very little plot. recreational drug use (weed smoking.) jimin performing burlesque and singing while being a flirt. light hair pulling. the burgundy suit from jimin's filter performance, and his kitty gang jacket, and cute lingerie. a hint of jealous/possessive behavior. bickering as a form of flirting. the tiniest hint of sub/dom vibes. safe word establishment. teasing & light humiliation. a little begging. use of good boy and slutty. jimin is shy at times but also a brat and yoongi fights the urge to tame him. a lot of drool, spit, lube, and cum. dirty talk. so much god damn praising. anal (plug, play, eating, fingering, sex.) messy blow job. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. yoongi loves to discuss boundaries & check in. lots of heaven/angel comparisons but only because yoongi is a sucker for how ethereal jimin is (it's not that deep.) too many positions (what was i thinking???) subspace. mating press. cock-warming. after care. tooth-rotting fluff.

🍓 note: a yoonmin fic + jimin doing burlesque was some brainrot shared between @echotoyou and i that i decided to write when their birthday was approaching. but then the big day came and went, and i lost control of this beast for a very long time. she is finally ready hehe. i hope you all (but especially mg!) enjoy!!! finally my years of being a photographer for a burlesque troupe and dating a performer have come in handy for my writing lolol.

🍓 listen along: 🎵 streets by doja cat & yeah, i said it by rhianna (thank you to @sailoryooons for these song choices!!!)

🍓 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🍓 posted august 2023 | read on ao3

Yoongi pats his pockets down one last time, fingertips tentatively grazing lumps beneath denim. Phone…wallet…keys. That's everything. He presses the lock button on his open car door, then closes it. In his pocket, his phone buzzes. 

Namjoon Hyung, are you close?

Yoongi Just parked.

Namjoon  Okay, good. Just making sure you don’t miss anything. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes but smiles. He has no idea what to expect – nobody has told him much – but Jimin did say, over and over again, that it was fine if he could not make it. That he would be thrilled if Yoongi could come but understood if he could not. That there would be other shows. 

But of course, Yoongi did everything in his power to make it. This is Jimin, after all.  

He slides his hands into the pockets of his black denim jacket and moseys from the small parking lot to the sidewalk and around the corner. There is a small congregation of people smoking and loitering outside, under a bright red neon sign that reads Paradise. Yoongi has never been to this bar before – tends to avoid spots on this side of town because it is more popular with college kids, and therefore, the drinks are overpriced. 

Everyone outside is done up in some flashy way, wearing sequins and fishnets, glittering eye makeup, and patent leather. Yoongi feels underdressed, wearing a black band tee tucked into black skinny jeans, with a black jacket and black work boots, and he awkwardly runs a hand through his dark, wavy, unstyled, and overgrown hair. 

"Yoongi!" a familiar voice shouts, and he looks up in time to find his friend Jeongguk waving him over, past the closest group of smokers. 

Even his friends are all dressed up, with sparkly eye glitter and tight, colorful clothing. Hoseok and Jeongguk are in mesh, Taehyung has a burgundy feather boa, and Seokjin and Namjoon are both wearing leather pants. Since when did the two of them own leather pants?

"Ya, you're dressed like a scrub!" Seokjin shouts, making Yoongi's cheeks warm in an instant.

"Nobody told you a single thing about the event tonight, did they?" Namjoon asks sympathetically.

Yoongi shrugs, mutters, "No," and digs his hands further into his pockets. 

Taehyung approaches, using his pinkies to brush the hair away from Yoongi's face, cradling a pot of light blue glitter between his fingers. "He probably wanted it to be a surprise," he mutters lowly, unscrewing the pot. "Don't let them make you feel self-conscious."

"I don't," Yoongi responds softly, feeling incredibly self-conscious. He stands still while Taehyung dabs his fingertip into the glitter and allows him to smudge it around his eyes. In the early days of their friendship, Yoongi probably would have fussed, but these days, he lets the youngest two – Taehyung and Jeongguk – do whatever they want.

Jeongguk approaches, unscrewing a stick of pink, shiny lip gloss, and Yoongi huffs out a sigh but stands as still as he can while Jeongguk applies it. "Should put your hair into a bun or something," he mutters before he and Taehyung trade places so Taehyung can smudge blue glitter onto his other eye. 

"Your hair is really pretty, hyung," Taehyung adds, screwing the top of the glitter pot back on and sliding it into his very tight white slacks. "You should let me style it."

"Don't we have to go inside?" Yoongi asks.

"We'll head in when the emcee comes on," Hoseok responds, approaching with a mischievous smile. Without asking, he grabs Yoongi's right arm and pulls at the black hair tie that he always keeps on his wrist, then begins separating the top half of Yoongi's hair and making a bun on the top. "Jimin goes on third or fourth."

"What is he doing tonight, again?" Yoongi asks, throwing in the again to make it seem like he may have been privy to information in the past, in case it makes one of them divulge even a crumb of information. 

"A little singing," Hoseok mutters, grinning. "You know how it is."

"I literally do not know how it is," Yoongi responds, finally becoming impatient with his friends touching and fixing him. 

"You'll see, hyung," Hoseok says as he takes a step back, inspects his handy work, and nods.

Taehyung returns with a knit brow and reaches up to fix Yoongi's glittery makeup, which he allows for a moment before swatting him away, grumbling, "Okay, enough."

"Alright, grumpy cat," Namjoon teases, then passes him a freshly lit joint. "Here."

Yoongi reaches for the joint and takes a hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs before tilting his head upward and releasing it. Then he holds out his hand for the next person to take it, and rolls his shoulders back. 

"What kind of song is Jimin singing?" Yoongi half-mutters, expecting next to nothing in response. 

Taehyung simply says, "You'll see, hyung,"  with a wink. 

“Is it an original song?” Yoongi tries. He can’t remember Jimin ever talking about songwriting, but he wouldn’t put it past him; Jimin is full of surprises. 

The sound of someone shouting into a microphone can be heard, and Yoongi stands at attention, ready to go inside. He can hear people cheering and loud pop music playing. 

“Shall we?” Taehyung asks as he takes one last drag at the diminishing joint and hands it to Yoongi. 

Yoongi nods and takes another hit, cradling the tiny roached joint between his thumb and forefinger, then holds it out for the others, all of whom hold their hands up and shake their heads. With one last puff, Yoongi flicks it into the street, then shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets. 

“Is Jimin part of the opening act?” Yoongi asks, and Seokjin snickers. 

“He’s one of the main acts,” Namjoon supplies unhelpfully. 

So he must be headlining, Yoongi assumes. 

“Hyung is so unobservant when he’s nervous,” Jeongguk teases, and Taehyung chuckles along with him. 

“I’m not nervous,” Yoongi grumbles.

He glances around and sees flyers for various events taped to the windows for drag and burlesque shows, and a few for various bands, none of which shows any images of Jimin, or any other performers he has ever seen before. In his pockets, his hands prickle with sweat, and he imagines what kind of instrument Jimin might play. Or maybe he only sings. 

Jimin is a somewhat new addition to their friend group, brought in by Taehyung and Hoseok; they all work together. To say Yoongi is smitten would be the understatement of the century. And although Yoongi thinks Jimin may also be interested in him, they have not spoken too much about anything outside of college and work, only seeing one another as part of the larger friend group.

As a major in theater arts with a minor in dance, Jimin works at a local studio teaching children tap and ballet as an assistant to Hoseok. Occasionally, Taehyung substitutes for the older lady who plays piano for the classes. It was natural for them to come together, all close in age, with Hoseok only a year older than the other two.

When Jimin invited Yoongi to come watch him perform, they were all tipsy from one too many bottles of soju. Jeongguk was the last in their friend group to graduate college, and they were all celebrating with drinks and fried chicken. 

Even then, when Yoongi asked what kind of show it was, everyone was giggly and secretive. From that moment, he got the feeling that Jimin was definitely flirting with him, with the way his gaze lingered, lips curled into a smile long after Yoongi made him laugh. The more Jimin insisted Yoongi needed to just go and experience the event first-hand, nibbling on his pillowy lip with a somewhat shy, rosy-cheeked grin, Yoongi felt eager to do anything he wanted him to. 

“Of course, I’ll be there,” Yoongi promised, and he meant it. 

The cheers inside grow louder, and Taehyung takes up the lead, stepping into the bar. Namjoon slings an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder and gently shoves him along with the group. Yoongi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, but Taehyung mutters something to the door guy, who looks at a list of names and then waves the six of them inside. 

Taehyung leads them down a short hallway, into the bar. A long counter lines the left wall, with patrons leaning against it both to order drinks, and to chat with one another. Past the bar top, at the end of the venue, is a stage, and on stage is a woman lip-synching to some upbeat pop song while waving big white feather fans in front of her, enticing the audience to want to see what the fans are covering. 

Yoongi has seen clips of performances like this but has never attended this type of show before, and his gaze lingers on the woman, who winks and blows kisses to cheering audience members before Namjoon leads him over to get a drink. 

The music is loud and a little tackier than Yoongi’s usual taste, but the bass line thrums through the speakers straight into his bloodstream, building his nervousness to see Jimin, egged on by feeling somewhat high. He wonders what kind of performance Jimin might put on at an event like this, and he cannot imagine what it could be. 

“Hyung?” Taehyung asks, tilting his head toward the waiting tender. “First one is on me.”

What he would like is a nice scotch neat, but since Taehyung is paying, he finds a mid-tier whiskey and gets it with a spritz of soda water. The others order, and by the time they step away from the bar, the woman’s song is at its climax, and she is topless, wearing lacy red underwear and bouncing in a way that spins the red tassel pasties on her breasts in a circle. The action makes him chuckle, and when she bows and leaves the stage, he claps his fingers against the back of the hand holding his drink. 

“Burlesque, huh?” Yoongi asks, turning to Namjoon while a man in drag takes the stage. 

Namjoon waggles his eyebrows while taking a sip from the bright blue concoction in his hands. 

“Is Jimin also doing burlesque?” Yoongi asks, earning him a shrug. 

Yoongi decides to just stop asking. Clearly, his friends are determined to be completely useless. 

Although there is a decent crowd in the bar, most people are mingling about, watching the stage from a distance, or whispering amongst themselves. The emcee introduces another act and leaves the stage, replaced by a person with a very nicely manicured mustache and beard wearing a big orange wig and vintage blue dress. They prance around the stage, lip-synching to a silly pop song that Yoongi has never heard before, winning cheers and applause from the crowd.

Yoongi wonders if Jimin will also come out in drag, and what kind of a gimmick he might have. Would he wear a dress? High heels? A wig? Yoongi imagines Jimin with the bright, exaggerated makeup on and smiles to himself; he bets Jimin would look really pretty. 

Taehyung leads the group toward the stage, taking his place just left of the center. The others file in behind him, with Yoongi keeping some distance from the very front. The performer comes by, lip-synching to Taehyung, who pulls some money from his pocket and holds it up while the performer bends and offers their cleavage for him to slide the notes into. 

"I don't have any cash," Yoongi grumbles toward Taehyung when the song ends and the performer exits. "Will I need any for Jimin?"

"I got you," Taehyung responds, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of notes, shoving them into Yoongi's empty hand before he has a chance to protest. 

Yoongi attempts to straighten out the notes while holding onto his drink. Meanwhile, the emcee returns to the stage. 

"Our next performer is a fan favorite," the emcee says with an exaggerated waggle of their eyebrows. Around them, the crowd becomes dense, with someone bumping shoulders and elbows into Yoongi as they get close to the stage. The emcee continues, "A man who needs no introduction because, let's be honest, you're all here to see him…Jimin."

The stage lights go out, and there is some movement – a person carrying items, as well as the light clacking of heels on the wooden stage. Yoongi's heart goes wild in his chest, and he lifts his drink to his lips, watching ahead for more movement in the dark, eager to not miss a thing when the lights come back on.

A red glow illuminates the back edge of the stage, showing the silhouette of Jimin sitting on what looks like a standard black folding chair. He is sideways on the chair with one leg crossed over the other, his arm draped over the back of the chair, and his head tilted back. He appears to be wearing a jacket and slacks, but it is hard to tell. 

Also on the stage is a tall, wooden coat rack, and hanging from it appears to be a short mesh robe with fur trim along the sleeves and bottom hem. 

Beside Yoongi, a man loudly whispers, "I fucking love Jimin; just wait," to someone else, and Yoongi shifts a little on his feet with anticipation and something like envy stirring in his guts. 

A yellow spotlight comes on, shining on Jimin. He wears a fitted burgundy suit and black leather boots with a heel and pointed toe. His light pink hair is styled off his forehead, and he appears to be wearing makeup around his eyes, but it is hard to clearly see. In his hand, which is draped over his knee, is a burgundy wide-brimmed hat. 

A familiar oldie comes on, a pop track from the 1950s, and Jimin slowly uncrosses his legs and places both feet on the floor. Female voices sing sweetly before Paul Anka's voice croons, "Put your head on my shoulder."

Only, before the sentence is finished, the song abruptly changes to a sexy R&B track with a trap beat. In that moment, the yellow spotlights turn red, the hat is dropped to the floor, and Jimin's hands are on the chair, supporting his weight as his body bows upward. Briefly, Yoongi thinks he recognizes the song from a bunch of tiktoks Hoseok has made him watch. 

The crowd cheers as Jimin rolls his body, then sits and rotates, facing the audience and spreading his legs. A woman's voice comes through, singing, "Like you…like you…like you…I find it hard to find someone like you," while Jimin rolls his shoulders and hips to the song, leaning forward and then back, holding onto this chair as he lifts his hips and lolls his head.

Yoongi is stunned, gripping onto his drink while he watches Jimin stand, spin the chair around and sit once more with his back to the audience and head tipped back while his hands rove over his body. His fingertips lift and fall to the rhythm of the song while they work their way down, down, down Jimin's body, difficult to clearly see and stirring up so many mental images. 

Jimin's shoulders and hips sway while his hands disappear, and then he pulls open the burgundy jacket. Everyone around him roars excitedly, cheering and applauding. Jimin holds onto the lapels and turns his head, teasing the audience with his opened jacket before he stands and lets the garment slip down past his shoulders, revealing a matching burgundy button-up that is tucked into his matching slacks and clings tightly to his arms and waist.

With a slow, deep swish of his hips, Jimin faces the audience and begins to rip the dress shirt open from the collar, sending buttons skittering across the stage, earning him whoops and shouts. With a strip of skin exposed, he walks over to the coat rack, turns it in a circle, and dips it as if he were dancing with a person, causing the mesh robe hanging from it to sway.

Each movement of Jimin's body is fluid, clothing clinging to his torso and thighs in a way that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. He wears tighter clothing sometimes when they all hang out, but this is the first time Yoongi has really allowed himself to look.

For just a split second, while Jimin is holding the coat rack as if he is cradling the back and neck of a person and lip-synching to the song, it seems like he makes eye contact with Yoongi, causing Yoongi to hold his breath and heavy-blink through the well of excitement and shyness that he feels. It almost looks as if the edges of Jimin's lips lift ever so slightly, but then he releases the rack and spins away from it, swishing his hips as he dips down low and continues to rip open and untuck the button-up shirt with his eyelids fluttering closed. 

Yoongi practically forgets there is a song playing, focused so intently on Jimin, that when the singer begins to rap – quick and raspy – matched by Jimin's movements of tearing away the garment and revealing a bare torso with little light-colored heart pasties on his nipples, Yoongi sucks in a gasp that gets caught in his throat, nearly making him choke. Jimin’s bare chest and abdominals are chiseled – carved from the finest clay with careful hands. Yoongi lifts his drink quickly, taking a gulp of bitter whiskey and soda water while the crowd goes wild. 

In a swift movement, the pants are torn away from Jimin's waist, revealing long, muscular legs and shiny briefs that match the pasties. Jimin sinks into a squat, rubbing his hands over his legs. Then he sits and lifts one of his legs into a high split, giving Yoongi a very clear eyeful of a bulge and taut thigh muscle, making his mouth fall open. 

Jimin unzips the boot from the foot suspended in the air and tosses it aside, then drops his leg down and sweeps his other leg out in a half-squat, half-split while he drags his hands down the length of his leg to the other boot, unzips it, and tosses it near the other one. 

He spins, gets onto his knees, which are spread, and rolls his hips, lifting and dropping his ass while his hands rove up to his neck and hair, and his head lolls back. All he wears is shiny briefs and pasties, making Yoongi feel more intoxicated than the glass of whiskey ever could. 

The group to Yoongi's right is particularly loud, cheering for Jimin and shouting things like, "That's it, baby, show us how you ride it!" making a shiver run along Yoongi's spine. The objectification makes him feel uncomfortable, but he wonders whether Jimin cares, considering he clearly enjoys stripping for an audience; maybe that is all part of the thrill. Yoongi can't say he blames him. 

The song fades out as Jimin gets onto his hands and knees and crawls over to the coat rack, then slowly gets to his feet. As the music ends, the red lights fade to regular spotlights, revealing the briefs, pasties, and mesh robe – which Jimin pulls from the rack and begins to put on – are all a light pink color that matches his hair. 

Jimin ties the robe with a cord around his waist, standing barefoot while looking out at the crowd with a soft smile. The audience roars with applause and praise, and Yoongi expects Jimin's performance to be over, but then a stagehand in all black runs out, collects the discarded clothing while another sweeps a large broom across the floor to kick away loose buttons, and he hands Jimin a microphone that has been covered in light pink rhinestones. 

Once the men wearing black disappear behind tall curtains, a new song begins, also a slow R&B track, and Jimin lifts the microphone and starts singing, slowly swaying his hips and approaching the front of the stage. 

Yeah, yeah…yeah, yeah… I ain't tryna think about it, no

Taehyung takes a step back, wraps his arm around Yoongi's waist, and pulls him closer to the stage, causing Yoongi to fumble as Jimin approaches. He stands still as a statue with his hands in front of his chest – wad of notes that Taehyung gave him wedged between two fingers while both hands grip tight to his cold, condensation-covered glass of whiskey and soda water. 

Jimin's eyes find Yoongi, and he smiles, tilting his head sweetly to the side. To his right, the guys who had been cheering loudly try to close in and reach forward, but Jimin ignores them, looming over Yoongi while he sings in a soft, sweet voice, delivering lyrics that have Yoongi's cheeks absolutely burning. 

Yeah, I said it, boy, get up inside itI want you to homicide it

As Jimin lifts a hand and reaches out, Yoongi steps forward instinctively, knocking the toe of his boot into the front of the wooden stage, head tilted upward with his eyes never leaving Jimin's face. Around him, hands reach out with money, and some even toss notes to the stage, but Jimin ignores all of it. 

Go in slow, but I want you to pipe it And I think I kinda like ya Up against the wall, we don't need a title

But Jimin does take the wad of notes that stick out from between Yoongi's fingers, tugging them right out of his weak grasp, and he snakes his hand under the robe and tucks it into the side of his little pink briefs, making Yoongi breathe out a soft chuckle. 

Beside him, the guy who seems intent on getting Jimin's attention mutters, "Who the fuck is this guy?" just loud enough that Yoongi can hear him, and pride begins to burn behind his ribs. 

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it, man, fuck a title

Gently, Jimin reaches out toward Yoongi's head, eyes widening and brows slightly lifting as if asking for permission, and Yoongi nods while letting out a shaky breath. Fingers delicately push into his hair, tugging on strands as Jimin takes a handful and releases it, pulling away while dragging his fingertips against Yoongi's cheek. Even the gentlest touch feels electric, and Yoongi sways slightly forward when Jimin's hand drops away. 

Boy, I always like to show Get a little bit, come a little close, now

Arousal builds, and Yoongi feels a bit ashamed considering he and Jimin are friends, and Jimin is hardly touching him in a way that should warrant blood rushing to his dick. But Jimin looks like pure sin wrapped in inviting pink, and the way he stares at Yoongi is playful in a way he has never seen him look. 

Take it home on your camera phone Get a little bad, watch me blow it down

Jimin sinks to his knees, still taller than Yoongi but closer to eye level. With one hand, Jimin reaches for Yoongi's drink, then he has a sip of it and sets it down on the stage. Yoongi's hand stays in the same shape as if the glass had never been removed, and he is not sure what is sexier, the fact that Jimin takes the glass straight from his hand, or that he doesn't even flinch after essentially drinking carbonated whiskey.

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh

With a smirk, Jimin slinks to the very edge of the stage, knees practically bumping into Yoongi's hips. He slips his microphone into Yoongi's hand and lifts it until Yoongi has it in front of his face, as if he is supposed to sing the next line, and then he drapes his arms over Yoongi's shoulders, leans in, and continues. 

Yeah, I said it… Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it… Ooh 

From this close, Yoongi can see a dusting of shimmery pink on Jimin's eyelids, which are lined in black. His lips are glossy, he smells like strawberries, and Yoongi feels stunned in place, questioning whether or not all of this is a dream. Could his friends have slipped something in the weed? Could he be hallucinating?

Jimin sings higher, each word more inviting than the last. 

You can be rough, boy, but you won't

One of Jimin's hands slides into Yoongi's hair, and starting from the nape of his neck, he takes a handful. Everyone in the bar fades away; as far as Yoongi is concerned, the only two people in the room are himself and the beauty before him. 

Yoongi wonders if this is how Jimin's performances typically go. Does he always pick someone from the audience to tease? Is he always this handsy?

Give me some love, boy, give it to me 'til the morn'

With a gentle tug at his hair, Yoongi practically whimpers, watching as Jimin's lips pull into a sweet, devious smile. Jimin holds onto Yoongi while swaying side to side, knees spreading wide as he dips low and closing as he sits a little higher. 

Jimin continues singing—

Yeah, I said it…Yeah, I said it, bae Yeah, I said it…

—but he seems less focused on sounding good for the audience and more interested in gently tugging Yoongi's hair and making him gradually fall apart. Soon, he is no longer singing at all, and he releases Yoongi's hair and drags his hand around his neck, past his throat and chin, then up and away, making Yoongi lean forward as if pulled by an invisible string. 

Yoongi wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, and Jimin seems to follow the movement before gently tugging his microphone out of Yoongi's tight, sweaty grasp and getting to his feet. Only then, does Yoongi realize the music is fading out. Jimin does a cute little twirl and opens his arms wide, bowing as the audience erupts into cheers, leaving Yoongi too stunned to clap. 

The emcee returns to the stage to announce an intermission, and the house lights come on, brightening the space. The crowd thins, and Yoongi heavy-blinks as he takes in his surroundings and allows his soul to return to his body while Jimin prances away, glancing over his shoulder to wink at Yoongi before slipping behind the black curtain. 

Two large, warm hands crash into Yoongi's shoulders, and he jumps, sucks in a gasp, and turns to find Namjoon staring at him with a wide smile. 

"So?" he has the audacity to ask, and all Yoongi can do is scoff and shake his head incredulously. 

"So, what?" Yoongi responds, attempting to play it cool despite the way his heart hammers in his chest. 

"Was it life-changing?" Taehyung asks, and Yoongi turns to regard him before remembering his drink is still on the stage and spinning around to retrieve it. When he turns back to his friends, he finds five sets of eager eyes watching him, as well as the stares of strangers, and he ducks his head and gulps down half of his drink. 

"It was…" Yoongi begins, trailing off as he attempts to summarize what he just witnessed, blinking through mental image after mental image. "Unexpected," he finally says, lips involuntarily tugging to a smile, which he covers by slamming back the rest of his drink. 

"It sure was!" Hoseok says with wide eyes. "Jimin never comes to the edge of the stage like that. People always try to entice him, but he always plays hard to get."

"Oh," Yoongi mutters, letting the words sink in. 

"Another?" Jeongguk calls, holding an empty glass, and everyone nods. Hoseok and Taehyung finish their drinks in a gulp while they all turn and make their way to the end of the bar. 

As they stand and wait, Yoongi takes a look around the space. Everything is black and chrome and nothing too remarkable, but the place seems to have a chill vibe. And he is grateful to not be the only person wearing denim and a band tee – dressed like a scrub, as Seokjin so elegantly put it.

Taehyung and Jeongguk get drinks, then slink away from the bar to stand off to the side. Then Hoseok and Seokjin order, and finally, Namjoon. Yoongi steps up to the counter and decides to order the same thing he had before – whiskey and soda water. 

From beside him, a sweet, familiar voice shouts, "Make that two, please!"

The smell of strawberry perfume hits Yoongi's nose, and he turns to his left to find Jimin smiling widely at him. He wears a white tee tucked into tight, black leather pants, and a black leather bomber jacket with a feathery design embroidered in red and silver beads on the shoulders. 

Now that Jimin has touched him – tugged at his hair while looming over like a salacious little threat – Yoongi allows himself to stare a little without feeling the nervous urge to flit his gaze away. The longer he looks at Jimin, the wider Jimin's smile grows. 

"Hi, hyung," Jimin says, taking a step closer. 

"Hey, pretty," Yoongi responds, feeling self-conscious about his choice of words until he sees the way they make Jimin blush. Pretty, indeed. 

Two glasses thunk against the bar top, and Yoongi turns with a gasp, fishing for his wallet. 

"On the house," the bartender says, nodding at Jimin. 

"Oh," Yoongi mutters, "okay."

"I got the tip," Jimin says beside him, leaning into his personal space to hand a folded wad of notes to the bartender. Jimin adds, "Though, technically, you are paying for it, hyung," close to Yoongi's ear. 

"Taehyung is paying for it, actually," Yoongi responds with a smirk, turning to Jimin whose mouth falls agape, scandalized. Yoongi feels the need to defend himself, adding, "Hey, I didn't know what was going on, otherwise I would have come prepared!"

Yoongi picks up both drinks and hands one to Jimin, who responds, "Fair," through laughter as he grabs Yoongi by the bicep and pulls him away from the bar. 

Even through his denim sleeve, Yoongi feels a spark of electricity where Jimin touches him. He notices that Jimin has pulled him in the opposite direction of the rest of their friends and decides not to question it. When they find themselves against the wall in a somewhat dimly lit corner, Jimin's hand stays on Yoongi's arm, giving him a tentative squeeze, and Yoongi looks down at Jimin's hand and smiles before meeting his eye. 

"You could have just asked me out," Yoongi teases, raising his drink to his lips before adding, "no need to put on a whole show."

Jimin's mouth falls open again, and he steps close, leaning to speak into Yoongi's ear. "Ah, but you liked the show, didn't you hyung?"

Yoongi has a sip of his drink, then he hums as he nods and says, "I did like the show. Your voice is really beautiful."

"Just my voice?" Jimin asks, stepping so close, their shoulders touch. 

A chuckle rocks through Yoongi, and he tips his head toward Jimin, who takes a drink with wide, curious eyes. "Not just your voice, no. Everything about you is beautiful."

"Awe, hyung!" Jimin shouts, shoving playfully at Yoongi's shoulder and sending him crashing lightly into the wall. 

"Wow," Yoongi responds, snickering. "Last time I compliment a guy."

Jimin places his hand over the spot he shoved and rubs over it, radiating warmth through denim and cotton. He opens his mouth to respond when a small group of men approaches to tell Jimin he did a great job, and Yoongi recognizes one of their voices as the guy who stood beside him during the performance. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow as the man makes eye contact with him, lifting his free hand to place over Jimin's hand, which continues to mindlessly rub over his chest, just below his clavicle. 

"Thanks for coming to the show," Jimin mutters politely, turning back to Yoongi. 

The group hovers behind Jimin and Yoongi does his best to ignore them, but it feels awkward to have an audience now that Jimin is no longer performing. 

"We should finish these drinks and get out of here," Yoongi suggests loud enough for the others to hear him, letting his gaze lift to the group to see if they have. 

Jimin chuckles. "Hyung, are you being possessive right now?"

"Maybe," Yoongi responds, tonguing the inside of his cheek. "But if you want to stay while that desperate pack ogles you, by all means—"

Jimin slides his hand from Yoongi's weak grasp to give him another smack, this time on the arm. 

"God, you're hot when you're jealous," Jimin says, making Yoongi blush, "but I should stay until the end to support the other performers. There are only four more."

Yoongi nods and accepts Jimin's terms. He wants to clarify that his offer for Jimin to leave with him afterwards is genuine, but the house lights dim, and music plays through the speakers, signaling the return of the show. 

Jimin takes Yoongi's hand and pulls him toward the front of the stage, to where the rest of their friends have congregated. Namjoon looks down at their linked hands, then to Yoongi, and he winks, making Yoongi roll his eyes despite how nice it feels to be holding Jimin's hand in public. 

The rest of the show goes by in a haze. Yoongi is hardly aware of the performers, hearing a hint of a song here and seeing a whoosh of brightly colored fabric there. All he can focus on is Jimin’s hand in his, Jimin’s voice singing and cheering, Jimin's warmth emitting in welcoming bursts beside him. 

Whenever Jimin slips his hand away to clap for each performer, Yoongi follows suit, robotically tapping his fingertips to his glass. And when Jimin takes his hand again, everything blurs and slows down, drowned out by the thrumming of blood in Yoongi’s veins, every sense acutely aware of only Jimin’s proximity – soft and strawberry-tender.

Once the house lights come on again, signaling the end of the show, Yoongi downs the rest of his drink. He feels sluggish and heavy, stumbling slightly when Jimin yanks him over to their friends. He wonders if they will want to keep drinking, whether they will want to go to a new bar. He thinks he would be alright with going to another bar; he parked his car somewhere it can be left overnight. 

“Wanna get out of here, hyung?” Jimin asks sweetly in his ear, and Yoongi decides all at once that another bar is out of the question. 

“Yes,” Yoongi responds, turning to Jimin with a wide smile that may very well look too eager for his own good. 

Jimin chuckles, finishes his drink, and says, “Good,” before leading the way to the bar where their friends are gathering with empty glasses. 

Yoongi considers how to break the news; Taehyung and Jeongguk tend to be pretty clingy and weaponize pouts that even Yoongi struggles to defend against, while Hoseok is always eager to keep their hangouts going well into the early morning. 

“We’re gonna get out of here!” Jimin announces, gracefully stealing the words from his mouth before he can even begin to formulate them. 

Jimin begins to hug everyone before they have a chance to oppose, smacking kisses against their cheeks and thanking them for coming to watch him perform. Most of them seem too dazed to argue.

Yoongi waves to everyone, noticing as they all make some sort of wink or eyebrow waggle at him, then he turns wordlessly and allows himself to get dragged by the wrist through the space, past patrons who attempt to talk to Jimin, and out into the cool night air. 

Jimin slides his arm into the crook of Yoongi’s elbow and pulls him along the sidewalk. “I live close,” he says before Yoongi has a chance to ask where they are going. Not that he would protest against being taken anywhere Jimin wanted. 

“Did you like the performance?” Jimin asks, bumping his hip against Yoongi as they walk. 

“I told you I did,” Yoongi teases, turning to find Jimin smiling while looking ahead. 

Jimin’s side profile is all firm lines and glitter, softened when he turns to Yoongi with wide, round eyes and pillow lips. He is stunning, and Yoongi is relieved to be able to stare unabashedly. 

“You told me I was beautiful,” Jimin clarifies, raising his eyebrows before looking ahead. 

“You are,” Yoongi mutters, remembering the performance. “And your singing was really beautiful. And the…stripping…” he trails off, feeling nervous about his choice of words. 

But Jimin does not miss a beat. “You liked watching me strip, hmm?”

“Of course I did,” Yoongi mutters, blushing. 

He is tugged around a corner to the right where the streetlights are fewer and the world feels darker, quieter. 

“And my dancing?” Jimin asks, walking impossibly closer – the two of them somehow managing to not trip over one another. 

“I liked your dancing,” Yoongi responds softly, clearing his throat to speak louder. “Hoseok mentioned you never come to the edge of the stage like that.”

Jimin chuckles, and Yoongi glances to the side, catching his eye before they both look ahead. 

“I don’t. That was just for you. I had a couple surprises just for you.”

Yoongi hums questionably, and Jimin says, "There's still one more surprise, in fact."

“Wow,” Yoongi rasps, smiling, “guess I’m pretty special.”

Jimin stops in his tracks and turns, pulling Yoongi gently away from the sidewalk, onto a grassy area near where tall bushes line the outside of an apartment building. It is even darker, and even quieter, without another soul around as far as Yoongi can tell, and he allows Jimin to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull him close enough that their lips nearly touch. 

“You are special,” Jimin responds with a smile, fingertips playing with Yoongi’s hair. “And you look so cute with your hair half up and your eyes covered in Taehyung’s favorite blue glitter. How could I keep my hands off you?”

“Your admirers seemed pretty jealous,” Yoongi teases as he wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist, holding him close. 

“Let them be,” Jimin mutters softly, ghosting warm breath over Yoongi’s lips, which he wets with the tip of his tongue in anticipation. “The only admirer I care about is you.”

Yoongi smiles, letting his mouth fall open to respond – to tell Jimin he does admire him, so much, in fact, that it makes him dizzy. But Jimin slots their lips together tentatively, hands cradling Yoongi’s neck and back, and Yoongi sinks into the feeling with a sigh, then gently sucks Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth as his pulse quickens. 

Jimin’s mouth is warm and soft beyond Yoongi’s wildest dreams. Yoongi rubs his hands over Jimin’s lower back and tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss, licking over Jimin’s bottom lip until it falls open with a gasp, granting Yoongi entrance. 

With a slow graze of his tongue over Jimin’s, he feels Jimin tense and shiver in his hold, letting out a soft whine that has arousal crashing through Yoongi. Jimin whimpers, and all Yoongi can think about is the man on stage in his tight little briefs, and his trim, flexible body grinding and swaying so invitingly. 

Jimin breaks from the kiss, panting as he tips his mouth away but presses their foreheads together. Yoongi opens his eyes just enough to see Jimin smiling. 

“Let’s go inside,” Jimin mutters, sounding breathless, and he releases Yoongi from his hold and leads him up the short set of steps into the building they were just in front of. 

“Couldn’t wait two more minutes to get me inside?” Yoongi chides as Jimin tugs him by the wrist down a short hallway, to a door on the right. 

Jimin punches in the door code and steps inside the apartment, switching on a bright overhead light that makes the two of them squint. When Yoongi steps in and closes the door, Jimin has his hands on him, pressing him against the wall. 

“Are you always such a brat?” Jimin groans, crowding Yoongi’s space. 

Yoongi assists Jimin in being close by wrapping his arms around his waist. “I like to tease you,” he rasps, chuckling as Jimin rolls his eyes. 

“You were teasing me earlier,” Yoongi adds, sliding one hand up, over the scratchy embroidery of Jimin’s jacket until his hand is on the back of Jimin’s neck. “With your dancing…and your singing…and your hair-pulling.”

“I was being extra sexy once I saw you standing there,” Jimin says sweetly as he slots a leg between Yoongi’s thighs.

“Is that so?” Yoongi asks, tipping his head back against the wall so he can actually see the beauty before him. 

Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip and nods his head. “I don’t usually grind on the floor as much. And the little splits I did to take off my shoes was improvised.”

“I might need to see those moves again,” Yoongi mutters, closing the gap between their lips with a soft, chaste kiss.

Jimin sighs and sinks into Yoongi, stomach and chest flush with his. “I have a lot of moves I can show you, hyung,” he responds as he sucks Yoongi’s lip into his mouth hard enough to make Yoongi whimper. 

“So show me,” Yoongi practically whines as he licks eagerly over Jimin’s lips. 

Jimin heaves a breath and takes a step back, grabbing Yoongi’s hands as they slowly slide from their grasp, walking backward through his tidy apartment, smiling as he mutters, “I’ll show you.”

Abruptly, Jimin stops and shouts, “Wait!” shoving Yoongi backward. Yoongi is confused and cocks his head, allowing himself to be moved, fingers still laced with Jimin’s. 

“We have to take our boots off, silly,” Jimin says, unlinking their hands and pressing Yoongi against the wall once more. He leans against Yoongi's chest as he lifts each foot to slide out of his black Chelsea boots and socks, stepping a bit shorter than before. 

Once Jimin’s feet are free, he prances away with a giggle, and Yoongi opens his mouth to call after him, but shakes his head and chuckles instead as he bends and unties his boots, toeing out of each one. The sound of a faucet running cues Yoongi to where to go, and he walks through the living room, to the right, and finds Jimin standing in a small kitchen, drinking from a glass of water. 

“Thirsty, hyung?” Jimin asks, holding out the glass. 

Yoongi takes it and has a drink, then sets it on the counter, and says, “I’m not too thirsty…but I am quite hungry,” watching as Jimin begins to look around with a frown. 

“I don’t have much,” he says, “what are you hungry for?”

Yoongi wraps his hands around Jimin’s waist, rubbing both palms over his leather-clad ass. 

“You,” he rasps, earning him a groan and a weak smack on the arm. He pouts and adds, “Pretty please?” while batting his eyelashes, and Jimin takes his hand, leading him away. 

“Are we leaving every light in your apartment on?” Yoongi asks while Jimin drags him into a short hallway. 

With a huff, Jimin turns on the hallway light, then reaches into a semi-open door right in front of them and turns the light on, revealing a bathroom. 

“There!” Jimin says with an incredulous glare. “Are you happy, hyung?”

“No,” Yoongi grumbles. “Feels like a waste of electricity.”

“You’re infuriating,” Jimin complains as he shuts off the bathroom and hallway lights. He playfully shoves Yoongi away to storm off to the kitchen and living room, and Yoongi laughs to himself, over the moon with how easy Jimin is to rile up. 

When Jimin returns, he grips onto the sleeve of Yoongi's jacket and yanks him roughly down to the end of the short hallway, into a dark room. Yoongi is still laughing, muttering, "Whoa, easy, tiger," as he is pressed into another wall, body against body, with warm breath wafting over his face. 

"You'll just have to fuck me in the dark since you're so god damn annoying," Jimin huffs as two hands slide up Yoongi's neck, into his hair and grip tightly.

Yoongi reaches into Jimin's jacket, pushing material away as he grabs him by the waist. Then he twists the two of them, grinning to himself when Jimin huffs out a surprised, "Oof," from the impact of his back being pressed into the wall. 

He leans forward, grazing his nose against Jimin's nose as he says, "So you want me to fuck you, hmm?"

"I thought that was a given," Jimin responds, voice less confident than before – trembling, even.

Yoongi hums and noses at Jimin some more, flicking his tongue out and pleased when it grazes over soft lips. "Didn't want to assume," he responds lowly, licking over Jimin's lips once more. "I'm down for anything you want, pretty."

It feels almost frantic the way Jimin's lips crash into his, mouth kissing and nipping while hands shove away Yoongi's denim jacket, sending it to the floor in a heavy lump of fabric. Jimin's hands yank at Yoongi's shirt, pulling it untucked from his jeans, and Yoongi reaches down, gently taking him by the wrists to stop him. 

"Wanna see you," Yoongi says. "I take back what I said about the lights; turn them all on so I don't miss anything."

Jimin chuckles and pulls his hands away, then a rustling of fabric is followed by the bright flashlight of Jimin's phone coming on. 

"Compromise?" he suggests with a smile that Yoongi barely sees behind the bright white glow. "There's a lamp beside my bed. Be a good boy and turn it on for me?"

Despite the somewhat indignant scoff that rolls through Yoongi's chest and throat, he turns on his heels to make his way through the dark bedroom, determined to be a good boy, indeed. He watches his step, maneuvering around discarded clothing items in the white glow before reaching the bed and finding the lamp. 

It takes a few moments of him rubbing his hand over the post and then down to where a cord sticks out, but he finds the little plastic switch and presses it on. A soft, golden light fills the space, and when he spins back around, Jimin is in the center of the room with his jacket draped down past his shoulders. 

Jimin begins to saunter over, and Yoongi's brain kicks into gear, going haywire over what he should do – join Jimin and undress him, or sit down and find out whether Jimin feels like putting on another show for him. He opts to sit, but when he turns to make sure the bed is close enough, his knees bump into it, knocking him off balance, and he more or less crashes onto his butt against the mattress. 

"So eager," Jimin teases as he rubs his hands over his neck, up into his light pink hair, and back down. 

"For you?" Yoongi responds, raising his eyebrows and nodding toward Jimin, feeling zero embarrassment over his floundering. "Absolutely."

"What are you so eager for?" Jimin asks with a grin that grows into something as beautiful as it is dangerous. 

"You," Yoongi responds without thinking. "All of you."

Jimin giggles. "Be more specific, hyung."

"I want to watch you strip again," Yoongi says, swallowing a lump of excitement that builds and builds in his throat, threatening to suffocate. "I want to worship you."

With another giggle, Jimin begins to thumb through his phone. The sound of a bluetooth speaker connecting somewhere to the right chimes through the room, and Yoongi turns to glance around, noticing a desk, a dresser, and an open closet door. Garments are strewn about – mostly shirts, it seems – and the dresser appears to be covered in various makeup items, beauty tools, and accessories. 

Over the speaker, a sexy R&B track begins to play, and Yoongi turns his attention back to Jimin, who tosses his phone over to the bed, to the right of Yoongi, and begins to sway his hips. Earlier, when Jimin was on stage, Yoongi was awestruck and struggled to fully comprehend what was happening. Especially with others around him cheering and shouting for Jimin, it took time for everything to settle over him.

But sitting in this dim room, just the two of them, knowing the type of body that Jimin has under all that leather and cotton, Yoongi's desire and anticipation reach new heights, and he leans back with his palms spread against Jimin's pink and orange floral comforter while butterflies kick up in his stomach. He almost feels the urge to pinch himself, worried once more that he might be dreaming.

Jimin lets the jacket fall to his wrists, then he lifts one hand slowly, dragging the material upward with his wrist until it slides free and falls. He lifts his other hand straight out and tilts his wrist until the material slides and crumples to the floor, and although it is just outerwear and Jimin is still fully clothed, the seductive movements have Yoongi sitting wide-eyed and mouth agape – entranced.

Yoongi barely registers the song that is playing, but he does not need to. Jimin's shoulders and hips amplify its tune, turning it into something tangible – something he could reach out and feel. Slowly, Jimin turns, and, with his fingertips dancing over the material of his t-shirt, he begins to untuck it little by little. 

White cotton drags over muscular shoulders with every movement, while black leather hugs his ass and thighs tightly. Then Jimin does a cute turn and sways down, bending his knees before swishing back up while lifting his shirt over his tummy and up, up, almost to his chest before spinning again and looking over his shoulder, pretending to be shy. 

Yoongi scoffs and shakes his head, absolutely charmed by Jimin's little show, still toeing the line between playful and sexy as the shirt lifts over his head completely and Jimin tosses it over his shoulder, straight at Yoongi's face. Yoongi barely lifts his hands, allowing the fabric to gently clobber him in a wave of warm strawberry, and when it falls to his lap, he lazily takes it in one hand and holds onto it. 

"Still wearing those cute hearts?" Yoongi asks, and when Jimin mock-pouts and says, "Sorry, hyung, I took them off," he feels the tiniest tinge of sadness. 

"What a shame," Yoongi responds, wetting his lips as Jimin turns and saunters closer, hands rubbing over his nipples, keeping them covered. "They were cute."

"You're cute, hyung. But no touching unless I say you can," Jimin instructs softly but firmly, nibbling his bottom lip while slotting one leg between Yoongi's thighs and lifting his other knee to the bed. 

Yoongi tips his head back, leaning to give Jimin space as he rolls and grinds his hips, rubbing his hands up, over his neck, and into his hair, and then down, over his nipples and abdominals. Jimin is delicate hills and valleys of taut muscle and soft skin, and all Yoongi can do is stare at the beauty before him while swallowing the saliva that has pooled beneath his tongue, threatening to drool past his lips. 

"Like what you see, hyung?" Jimin asks, making Yoongi chuckle. 

Yoongi has to find his voice, softly clearing his throat. "You know I do."

With a deep, inviting hum, Jimin presses his thigh between Yoongi's legs, applying just enough pressure to make the air get trapped in his lungs. Arousal simmers through Yoongi, and he gasps, which becomes a soft chuckle when he notices the playful look on Jimin's face. 

"Evil," Yoongi groans when Jimin's leg grazes over him again, feeling blood rush straight to his dick. 

"What's the matter, hyung?" Jimin sing-songs as he takes a step back, spins around, and lowers his ass to Yoongi's lap. 

With both hands planted on Yoongi's knees, Jimin rolls his hips in circles and grinds them forward and back, and Yoongi squeezes the comforter in both palms as he groans from the pressure, fighting how badly he wants to touch. 

The song switches to something else sultry and unfamiliar, and Jimin reaches back with one arm that drapes over Yoongi's shoulder, resting his head on his other shoulder while his hips lift and fall in quick but soft movements that graze over Yoongi's crotch. 

"You're good at this," Yoongi mutters, dazed, hardly sounding like himself. 

Jimin hums in agreement and says, "I'm good at a lot of things."

A particularly firm press of Jimin's ass against Yoongi's constricted dick has his eyes fluttering closed, and he practically whines, "Show me everything."

Jimin sits up, taking away the arm around Yoongi's shoulder, then glances back with a mischievous smile, still moving his hips in inviting circles. Yoongi can hear the slow drag of a zipper, each tooth releasing as Jimin's arms make small movements in front of him. And then he lifts his hands to the waistband of his pants, hooks his thumbs under the black leather to slowly push the garment down.

The movement is agonizingly slow, only revealing an inch before he pulls back up and begins to drag down little by little, exposing pinkish-white satin briefs. Yoongi wants to grab onto the pockets and yank the material to the floor, losing all sense of sitting like a good boy. 

"You're killing me," he grumbles, fisting the blanket tight. 

With a giggle, Jimin stands, pushes the pants all the way to his thighs, and then sits again, grinding down on Yoongi's lap. The delicate curve of Jimin's waist into soft hips and a round, perfect ass has Yoongi reeling; the fact that he has Jimin all alone, and he is teasing him like this, is still a bit hard to comprehend. And, to make matters worse – or better – sticking out from under Jimin's satin panties are white lace garters connected to white mesh thigh-high stockings. 

Yoongi groans, eager to show his appreciation while feeling at a loss for words, earning a light giggle in response. 

"How badly do you want to touch me?" Jimin teases, glancing over his shoulder. 

Yoongi tongues the inside of his mouth, raising his eyebrows while Jimin continues to watch him. "Oh, I'm going to fucking ruin you the second you give me permission to."

It is subtle the way Jimin's eyes widen and all mirth melts from his features – it only lasts a split second. But Yoongi clocks it, and he smirks, feeling victorious. 

Jimin turns and stands, bending himself in half while pushing his pants down to his ankles, and Yoongi watches as more drool pools under his tongue, gaze drifting down to where Jimin peeks from around his ankles to smile before slowly standing back up. He steps from the crumpled leather and then kicks the garment away before turning to Yoongi with his cock straining hard in those tight little briefs as he straddles his lap. 

"How was this performance, hyung?" Jimin asks, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's shoulders to play with his hair. 

At some point, the song had changed, but Yoongi barely registers the downtempo beat, staring at Jimin, who giggles and wiggles his hips back and forth in a quick, playful movement. He lifts his right hand and then drops it back to the blanket with a groan, rolling his head back and taking a quick moment to close his eyes. 

"It was more of a tease than the first one," Yoongi grumbles, tracing the soft lines of Jimin's neck and shoulders with his eyes before looking at his face. "But it was great, all the same; I thoroughly enjoyed it."

Jimin reaches down and palms over Yoongi's dick, which sits bunched up at an uncomfortable angle under restrictive denim, making him gasp from the pressure-ache that tears through him. 

"I can tell how thoroughly you enjoyed it, hyung."

At this, Yoongi chuckles, biting the inside of his mouth and biding his time for when it is his turn to be a menace.

"Did you notice my final surprise?" Jimin asks.

"The garters and stockings?" Yoongi asks, eyes drifting downward. 

"Not that," Jimin responds, and Yoongi cocks his head, unsure what he means.

"No…" he mutters. 

Jimin stares incredulously, heavy-blinking in disbelief. "What, really?" he practically shouts. "My ass was right in your face, how did you miss it?"

"I mean…your ass is…surprisingly perfect," Yoongi tries.

With a playful huff, Jimin rolls his eyes, grabs Yoongi's right hand, and wraps it around him, making Yoongi cup one of his cheeks. 

"You can touch only with this hand," Jimin says with an insistent gaze, "and only on my butt."

The material of these briefs is thin and smooth, gliding softly under Yoongi's palm. It takes Yoongi a moment of rubbing over the soft flesh, squeezing gently, and mapping its shape before his fingertips brush over something hard, making Jimin suck in a sudden gasp of air. 

"Oh?" Yoongi asks, grazing his fingertips against the spot with more purpose, making Jimin squirm. "What have we here?"

Jimin whimpers as Yoongi presses against the hard, round surprise before taking a handful to squeeze and spread, turning his sounds into soft moans. 

"Were you wearing this plug during the performance?" Yoongi asks, head tipped back to watch as Jimin's lips tremble and search for what to say.

"Yes," he finally sighs, lolling his head back with a moan when Yoongi passes his fingers firmly over it again. 

"You performed wearing an anal plug?" Yoongi asks again, watching as Jimin's cheeks flush and his eyes widen.

Jimin leans forward and presses his forehead against Yoongi's, nodding while whimpering a broken, "Uh-huh."

"While dancing and singing and tugging on my hair?" Yoongi continues, "While those eager boys stood and watched you flirt with me, you wore this, hoping I would bring you back here and find it."

"Yes, hyung," Jimin moans, and god if Yoongi had not already been fighting back the urge to absolutely destroy this pretty man in the most delicious ways possible, he would be now.

"You wanted me to find this plug, hmm?" Yoongi presses and rubs over it, squeezing and spanking while his other hand grips onto the blanket for dear life. "Wanted me to bend you over and pull it out…stretch you further on my cock…didn't you?"

"Hyung," Jimin whines, hips rolling lazily into Yoongi's touch.

Without another word, Yoongi slides his hand away and anchors himself back against the bed. Jimin scrambles, sitting back with his eyes bulging wide, making Yoongi chuckle.

"So naughty," Yoongi teases, voice full of mirth and sparking a petulant fire in Jimin's eyes.

"Hyung!" Jimin shouts, lifting a hand to smack Yoongi on the chest, which Yoongi catches despite not being given instruction to touch, just yet. Jimin looks incensed and gasps, eyes going between Yoongi's hand and his face.

"It's my turn," Yoongi rasps, biting back a grin. "Let me touch you."

Jimin blinks at him, clearly still processing the teasing, and Yoongi raises his eyebrows, impatient. 

"Fine," Jimin huffs brattily, yanking his hand from Yoongi's grasp and sliding from Yoongi's lap to take his place beside him on the bed. "It's your turn to strip, hyung. Give me a good show."

Yoongi stands, walks a couple paces into the room, and turns, letting the movement flow with the beat of whatever song is playing – something a little quicker-paced but still sexy enough to dance to. He rubs his hands over his neck, down his pecs, and over his tummy, watching as Jimin rests back on his palms with his thighs slightly spread, intently following every movement. 

Then Yoongi grips onto the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it quickly over his head, messing up his hair in the process. He flings the garment at Jimin with maybe just a little too much force, and it hits him in the chest, falling to his lap.

"Wh—hyung!" Jimin shouts, tossing the shirt aside as Yoongi quickly undoes his belt and fly and shoves his jeans to the floor, stepping out of one side and then the other, and then reaching down to yank away his socks. 

"This is the worst strip tease I have ever seen!" Jimin shouts despite his eyes roving over Yoongi's body with a hunger that says otherwise. 

Yoongi approaches in two swift strides and bends to take Jimin by the backs of his knees. He lifts and spreads Jimin's legs, sending his back crashing against the bed, scrambling and squealing while Yoongi leans forward, legs draped over his hips, and grins. 

"What did I tell you I was going to do, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sternly, caging Jimin in with his hands against the bed while Jimin's frantic movements cause their clothed cocks to rub against one another in an addictive jolt of energy. 

"R-ruin me," Jimin pants as his flailing slows to a stop.

Yoongi grins. "That's right. I am going to absolutely ruin you. Now be good for me and get on your hands and knees."

It appears to take about two seconds for Jimin to process Yoongi's words before he crawls back on his elbows, getting fully onto the bed, and turning to position himself on his hands and knees while Yoongi sinks down to the floor. Jimin moves toward the center of the bed when Yoongi stops him.

"Ah, ah, come back here, pretty." He pats the mattress as if calling over a puppy. "Want you right here."

Jimin crawls backward with a somewhat dazed, borderline humiliated look on his face, and Yoongi waits patiently until Jimin is settled on the edge of the bed with his ankles hanging near Yoongi's head. 

"Perfect," Yoongi groans as he sits high, reaches for the waistline of Jimin's pretty satin briefs, and pulls, uncovering his prize in all its soft yet muscular glory. 

Yoongi practically moans at the sight of Jimin stretched around a metal toy with a light pink rhinestone in the center, and he wastes no time reaching two handfuls of soft flesh to squeeze firmly in his palms. He spreads his hands wide to graze his thumbs over the toy, then uses one hand to begin slowly tugging on it while keeping Jimin spread. 

"God, look at you," Yoongi groans as Jimin's pucker tenses and relaxes with each movement. "Is this what you wanted? When you invited me to come watch you perform, did you picture me bending you over and playing with your ass afterward?"

"Yes," Jimin whines, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine.

Yoongi uses his palm to gently strike Jimin's ass. The sound cracks through the room, punctuated by a moan, and Jimin shutters as he relaxes. 

"What did you imagine, exactly?" Yoongi asks, hearing a dazed, "What?" come from Jimin. 

"When you nestled this pretty little toy inside yourself tonight," Yoongi clarifies, rubbing over the reddened mark of his hand. "What were you imagining I would do to you?"

"I thought you would want to f-fuck me," Jimin says, sounding somewhat bashful. How cute. 

Yoongi rubs over Jimin's ass with both hands, then taps the tip of his index finger over the end of the toy, making Jimin tremble. "Is that all?"

"N-no," Jimin whimpers.

"Awe, is pretty Jimin too shy to dirty talk to his hyung now that he has me right where he wants me?"

All he hears in response is a low whine, and Yoongi chuckles, smacking and squeezing Jimin's ass just enough to make his legs quake. He wonders if Jimin likes becoming pliant and malleable in someone else's hands. 

"I can tell you what I imagine," Yoongi offers, sitting back before getting onto his feet to rub over Jimin's back and bend over him, draping himself to speak low into Jimin's ear. 

Jimin nods. 

"What I've imagined since the day we met—" Yoongi reaches with one hand to Jimin's chin and lifts his head up, then presses two fingers into his warm, wet mouth, "—is watching these sinful fucking lips wrap around my cock."

Jimin sucks on Yoongi's fingers, stirring a fire in his belly, and Yoongi nuzzles their cheeks together, pulling away as Jimin releases him with a pop. 

"And what I've imagined since that little performance of yours tonight—" Yoongi gently grips Jimin's chin and pulls him so that he is held in place, back arched and neck craned, looking him in the eye, "—is the sight of you riding me…using me to make yourself cum…squeezing me so nice and tight…all while tugging on my hair."

Jimin's eyes blow wide, and he gasps, staring at Yoongi as if he has just personally hung every star in the night sky. Reverent. 

"Would you like that, pretty?" Yoongi asks, and Jimin nods.

Yoongi grins. "Use your words, baby."

Brighter and wider, Jimin's eyes turn to heavenly disks, and Yoongi makes a mental note to call him baby a lot more. 

"Yes, hyung," Jimin mutters sweetly.

"Say my name. Tell me what you need."

"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin responds. "I need…you. Anything you want, please."

With a soft kiss against Jimin's cheek, Yoongi lowers Jimin down, continuing to drape himself over his body, keeping his weight from pressing on him too much. 

"Do you like to be more in control," Yoongi asks, dancing fingertips in Jimin's pink hair, "or do you like to submit?"

Jimin's voice has a slight tremble when he says, "Submit."

"Do you like it rough or soft?"

"Both."

Yoongi groans, pleased with that answer. "Do you have a safe word, baby?"

"S-strawberry."

"Strawberry, of course," Yoongi says, grinning. "Good. I'm going to make you feel so good, baby."

Yoongi feels Jimin's body relax beneath him as he sighs, "Please, Yoongi," in a voice fit for an angel.

Eager to learn all the pretty ways Jimin can sing, Yoongi gets back onto his feet, running his fingertips over the length of Jimin's back before dropping to his knees. He spreads Jimin wide, leans forward, and licks from just beneath the end of the plug to just above it, tasting cold metal and zirconia with a sticky-sweet hint of lube. 

Jimin moans low and arches his back, pressing his ass against Yoongi's face, and Yoongi chuckles as he grips tightly to both cheeks and licks again and again, straight lines and rounded ones, tasting and teasing.

"Do you get really sensitive?" Yoongi asks as he rests his cheek against the soft curve of Jimin's ass and takes the end of the toy between his fingers, tugging it ever so slightly – just enough to make Jimin whine. 

Jimin mutters a pitchy, "Uh-huh."

"Words, baby," Yoongi instructs with a somewhat stronger tug. 

Jimin sobs as he says, "Yes, Yoongi!"

"Good," Yoongi groans as he nuzzles against Jimin and nips gently at his skin. "We're gonna have a lot of fun together."

With a firm tug, Yoongi begins to pull the toy, taking it nice and slow while Jimin's hole stretches around the bulb. Jimin sobs with shaking legs, and Yoongi lifts his head and drops a dab of spit as he pushes the toy back in and gives it another tug. 

Back and forth, he tugs and presses, with more spit and kisses against Jimin's soft skin, again and again, until finally Jimin opens wide and releases the plug with a soft wail. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi praises, licking over Jimin's rim with a firm twist of his tongue, making him moan. "So good for me."

Yoongi stands on somewhat shaky legs – knees, and calves tired from being bunched up on the floor – and he moves to the bedside table, grabs a tissue from a small box, and places it down to rest the plug onto. "You got lube in here?" he asks, tapping his fingernails against the small door on the front of the table. 

"No, on top," Jimin responds, and Yoongi glances around, then finds the bottle wedged behind the tissue box. 

"Is this the lube you used earlier?" Yoongi asks as he returns and takes in the sight of Jimin on his knees with his face pressed against his floral comforter.

"Don't pick on me," Jimin pouts, frowning, making Yoongi chuckle fondly.

"Not picking on you, baby," Yoongi responds, patting the center of the bed, closer to the pillow. "Come up here."

With a whimper and even deeper pout, Jimin anchors himself on his hands, and – like a doe learning to walk for the first time – fumbles and sways with forward momentum until he slams his chest down onto a pillow and wraps his arms around it. 

Yoongi gets onto the bed and crawls on his knees behind Jimin. The satin briefs are still around Jimin's legs, keeping him from spreading his knees too far, and Yoongi leaves them in place, curious how Jimin might enjoy a little movement restriction.

With his thumb, Yoongi flips open the lid of the lube bottle, then he squirts a generous amount onto his index and middle fingers and rubs the pad of his thumb through the sticky substance to warm it just a little. Then he rubs the slicked tips of his fingers over Jimin's hole, watching the way he trembles from even the slightest of touches. 

Slowly, Yoongi presses the tip of his middle finger in, testing how far the toy has stretched him. Although Jimin moans, his voice is steady as Yoongi pushes all the way to his knuckle and twists. The muscle does not squeeze too tight, so he pulls out and gently slides in another.

With his index finger added, Jimin squeezes him with a deep whimper and then relaxes. Yoongi takes it slow, rubbing his palm soothingly over Jimin's ass and thigh, pulling his fingers back and pressing them forward little by little. 

"Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop, pretty," Yoongi says as he watches his fingertips get swallowed. 

"Don't stop," Jimin whimpers, "give me more."

"More?" Yoongi teases, drawing the word out nice and long. 

"Please, Yoongi."

Yoongi twists his fingers as he pushes and pulls, listening to Jimin's deep voice become high-pitched and raspy. Satisfied with how Jimin feels around him – swallowing eagerly but not with a death grip – Yoongi adds his ring finger. 

Jimin trembles and bleats broken syllables as Yoongi presses three fingers into him. He twists slowly and dribbles spit onto Jimin's rim, giving himself a little more slide, working himself a little deeper. And Jimin takes him so well until he gets to his knuckles and the stretch feels too tight.

"Fuck," Jimin gasps, legs quaking. "Feels s-so good, but it—'s too much."

"I got you, baby," Yoongi says softly, planting kisses over Jimin's ass and upper thigh as he slides his fingers out and pauses. "Call your safe word if you want a break."

"No," Jimin pants. "I don't want a break, your fingers are just…they're too good."

Yoongi chuckles, slowly pressing his fingers back in, stopping before the knuckles, as he says, "Just breathe for me," with his lips dragging over Jimin's soft skin. 

Labored, panicked breaths make Yoongi smile and shake his head, and he slowly pulls out as he clarifies, "Breathe slowly, Jiminah. Don't make yourself dizzy; I don't need you passing out on me."

An impatient groan muffled by a blanket makes Yoongi sit up high on his knees and angle his body to get a look at Jimin, whose face is squished cutely into the bed with flushed cheeks and a frown in his brow. 

"Ya, what is it?" Yoongi teases, using his lubed fingers to give Jimin's ass a little smack, smiling at how the man cries and quakes. 

"Wanna ride you," Jimin groans indignantly. 

Yoongi wants to rile Jimin up so badly. He considers tickling the man until he crashes to the bed laughing – and probably throwing a tantrum. He wants to threaten not to let Jimin do anything he wants, just so he can be pouty and bratty and make Yoongi put him in his place a little – gently and sweetly, of course. He has to hold his tongue to not chide the poor guy for how grumpy and impatient he is, even as Yoongi stretches him. 

But he does not. Instead, Yoongi rubs both hands over Jimin's ass, spreading and squeezing while settling back down again. "I thought you wanted to be submissive," he asks, with only a hint of mirth.

"I do," Jimin responds, pout still evident in his tone. "I want to do both. I can't make up my mind."

"You can do both," Yoongi insists with a smirk, reaching for the lube bottle to slick his fingers back up. "I would love it if you rode me, baby. But if you can't take three knuckles, you sure as hell can't take my cock. So why don't you be a good boy and breathe nice and slow while I stretch you open, yeah?"

The breathy way in which Jimin mutters, "Yeah," tells Yoongi his message has been received loud and clear. The prospect alone of Jimin riding him has him very eager to get the other nice and ready. 

Yoongi slathers his three fingers in lube and begins to press them in. Jimin still huffs his exhales, but he is breathing less like a man who might be dying, for which Yoongi is grateful. It takes plenty of twisting and coaxing to slowly get the muscles to open for him, but Yoongi is patient, kissing and sucking on Jimin's skin while watching his fingers get swallowed. 

When Yoongi finally does finger Jimin past the knuckle – accompanied by a pitchy squeal and Jimin begging, "Fuck, fuck, don't stop, please don't fucking stop," – he stops, letting Jimin adjust to the stretch. 

"That's it," Yoongi praises, rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and thigh while his fingers stay nestled deep inside him. "I knew you could take me. Just had to be a little patient."

"I've fantasized about how your knobby knuckles would feel but fuck, they are so big," Jimin whines, making Yoongi laugh. 

He squeezes Jimin's ass in his palm, then slowly begins to pull his fingers out, watching as Jimin opens wide to accommodate him once more. "You've fantasized about my fingers, huh?"

"H-hyung," Jimin groans, sounding embarrassed.

"Say my name, pretty," Yoongi sweetly commands as he twists his fingers out and begins to plunge them back in, meeting far less resistance. 

"Y-Yoongi," Jimin sobs, trembling as Yoongi twists – pulling out and pushing back in. 

The sight of his fingers getting swallowed whole has Yoongi's jaw hanging slack, drool pooling beneath his tongue. Jimin is an absolute vision, and the more his light-dusky pucker becomes flushed and reddened with pleasure, the hungrier Yoongi is to give and give and give. Anything to paint him prettily with bliss. Anything to hear the sweet, broken sounds he makes. 

"What is it, baby," Yoongi asks, twist-pulling and plunging deep. 

Jimin hiccups and Yoongi rotates his torso to lean just enough to see Jimin's fist grasping at the comforter. "N-need you."

"I'm here," Yoongi coos while rubbing his palm over Jimin's ass and lower back, fingertips mapping and memorizing. "You're almost ready for me."

Yoongi pulls out, then uses the index fingers of both hands hooked into Jimin's rim to open him nice and wide. Jimin sobs as Yoongi stretches him, slowly plunging his fingers in and out in a push and pull, watching as the welcoming rings of muscle tense and relax. 

"Wh-what are you doing to me?" Jimin groans, as he sinks a little further forward, pushing his ass ever so slightly higher. 

"Admiring you, baby," Yoongi says, sitting high on his knees to dribble a dollop of spit into Jimin's hole to squelch between his two fingers. "You have no idea how fucking perfect you are."  

Jimin hiccups as he moans, and Yoongi slowly pulls out, one finger and then the other, watching as his pucker tightens and tightens.

"Alright, baby," Yoongi says as he sits back on his knees and open-palm kneads at Jimin's fleshy thighs, feeling supple skin, rough lace, and soft mesh against his palms. "Wanna be a good boy and show hyung how you ride cock?"

A pitchy, garbled, "Uh-huh," leaves Jimin's mouth in a rush as he pushes himself on shaking limbs until he is seated on his knees. Yoongi slides off the bed and walks toward the head, moving pillows and the comforter out of the way, revealing a pretty green floral sheet. He pushes his dark briefs down to the floor, stepping out of each side as he places his knees onto the bed, knee-walks the center, and then sits, spreading his thighs while Jimin grabs the bottle of lube and hobbles close. 

Without preamble, Jimin cages Yoongi's hips between his arms and licks a slow stripe up the underside of his aching, neglected cock, sending a thrill of pleasure shooting through him that has a moan storming from his lungs. Yoongi's head thumps against the headboard as he sinks against the cool, wooden surface, and he lifts his hands to gently take Jimin by the hair and chin. 

"Hyung tastes so good," Jimin coos sweetly, glancing up through his eyelashes while poking out his pretty pink tongue to lap at the dribble of precum at his tip. 

Yoongi was not planning on getting his dick sucked – he was dead set on Jimin's pleasure first and foremost, eager to give absolutely anything to him that he wants. But if what Jimin wants is to put those pretty lips to use, Yoongi would not dare say no. 

"Is that so?" Yoongi urges, eager to press Jimin to say more – hopeful that he will turn shy and sweet like before.

Jimin nods, blinking with a lust-drunk haze in his eyes before looking down into Yoongi's trimmed dark pubes as he says, "Salty-sweet…so yummy…"

"It's all yours, baby," Yoongi says as he drags his trimmed, blunt fingernails along the sharp lines of Jimin's jaw. "Anything you want, it's yours."

Jimin lets his tongue hang long, blinking upward while drool pools and dribbles onto Yoongi's tip, dripping down to disappear from view. "Want to make a mess," he slurs, barely pulling his tongue back enough to speak clearly. 

"Yeah?" Yoongi urges, "you wanna make a mess of me, baby?"

Jimin nods, curving his lips upward, saliva pooling and dripping. Yoongi fights the urge to beg him to do more – wants Jimin to go at his own pace and enjoy himself, even if it means Yoongi vibrates with nerves and anticipation, bordering on impatience and flat-out desperation. 

Luckily, Jimin does not make him wait long. With a deep, eager groan, Jimin sucks Yoongi's tip into his mouth without using his hands, then curves his back and neck, doing his best to swallow him down. Pleasure quakes through Yoongi, and he sinks further into the bed, dragging his head back against the headboard while he moans deep and appreciative. 

He tips his head to the side to watch Jimin's spit-slick petal lips drag along his length. Jimin hums and moans, which vibrates just enough to make Yoongi shiver, sucking his cheeks and swishing his tongue in a hypnotic dance. 

Slowly, Yoongi climbs to the precipice of bliss, further each time Jimin takes him a little deeper and swallows a little harder. Then Jimin changes position, sitting higher on his knees, and he takes Yoongi into his throat and swallows hard, sending a heavy wave of euphoria crashing inside him. Yoongi's fingers, which had been loosely holding onto Jimin's hair and face, grip onto Jimin's hair, and he tugs gently without pulling too hard. 

"Shit, baby, that's it," Yoongi whines, voice coming out pitchy and breathy. "Won't last if you keep swallowing me like that."

Jimin hums and swallows harder, holding Yoongi in his throat long enough to make Yoongi begin to spiral; long enough for Jimin to come up for air with a heavy gasp. Spit hangs from Jimin's lips and tongue in thick strings, and when he blinks, mascara leaves little black streaks on his face. 

"Pretty, messy baby," Yoongi praises with a smile that feels crooked and heavy. He knows he must look absolutely fucked out, and the way Jimin's eyes shimmer has affection blooming deep behind his ribs. 

Jimin grins, then sinks back down, sucking and swallowing eagerly while setting a quick pace bobbing his head. The faint pass of Jimin's teeth along Yoongi's length sends a tickle up his spine that has his back arching, and with each upward stroke of his lips, spit collects and trickles, coating his balls and dribbling over his asshole. 

Yoongi is close, and he grips Jimin's hair a little tighter, guiding his head a little deeper. He whimpers broken pleas for Jimin to keep going that hardly sound like words – whisps of sounds flitting into the air as he struggles to keep his bearings. Jimin's mouth is better than Yoongi could have possibly anticipated, and he submits fully to letting Jimin send him straight into the clouds. He wants to cum down that pretty throat so badly. 

"Fuck," Yoongi mutters, finally finding his voice. "Gonna cum, baby. Will you swallow for me?"

Jimin seems to try to nod, muttering some kind of response that amounts to consonants and sputtered drool, and Yoongi loosens his grip on Jimin's hair, letting his hands slide and fall away to fist at the sheet, instead. It only takes three more passes of those perfect fucking lips to make Yoongi absolutely dissolve.

"Gonna c—" is all he chokes out before painting Jimin's tongue and throat. 

Jimin gags slightly but continues to suck and swallow, humming and moaning between Yoongi's sharp, raspy sounds of pleasure. His orgasm flows through him hot and quick, erupting and intoxicating. Only once he is trembling from overstimulation does Jimin release his cock, licking once more from base to tip with his mouth hanging agape. 

Streaks of viscous white streak Jimin's tongue, and Yoongi takes him by the jaw and gently lifts, urging Jimin to sit up and crash into him. Yoongi licks into Jimin's mouth, tasting his own heady release, and Jimin melts forward, laying his torso heavily against Yoongi while very slowly crawling up into a seated position on his lap. 

"Was that what you were imagining, hyung?" Jimin asks against his mouth, making Yoongi chuckle.

"Better," he rasps. "I could never have imagined anything feeling that good, Jiminah."

Jimin blushes as he asks, "Did you like how my lips looked?" and Yoongi raises an eyebrow, tilting his head back to get a better look at him. "Wrapped around you," Jimin continues, nibbling on his plush, kiss-swollen bottom lip. 

"You know I did." Yoongi leans in to place a soft kiss against Jimin's lips, deciding instead to suck them into his mouth, one after the other, making him giggle. "You looked and felt like heaven, baby."

Jimin leans back into Yoongi, wrapping his arms around his neck and gently tugging at his hair. They kiss, lick, suck, and nip in unhurried movements, tasting and teasing while Yoongi's dick recovers and begins to harden once more. Sticky-cool saliva transfers from Jimin's chin to Yoongi's, aiding in the mess that was promised, and Yoongi slowly sucks at Jimin's tongue tip, making him drool even more. 

Time grinds to a halt, suspended and of no use to them. Yoongi passes his hands over Jimin's shoulders, down the slopes of his back and hips and ass – anywhere he can reach. Occasionally, Jimin shivers and sighs, and Yoongi cannot help but smile, endeared and eager to know every single sensitive spot he may have. 

One of Jimin's hands leaves Yoongi's hair and travels down, tickling as his fingernails delicately scrape down his pec, across his ribs, to his hip. When Jimin wraps his hand around Yoongi's growing erection, engulfing him in pleasure and warmth, Yoongi gasps, rolling his eyes back and nodding as he mutters, "Almost ready for you."

Jimin releases Yoongi and reaches for the lube before using both hands to slick him up. Yoongi is grateful that Jimin does not warm it in his hands, hissing with delight at the cold touch. Jimin giggles deviously, chewing on his lip, and Yoongi gazes down at his cock between two slender, pretty hands before returning his attention to Jimin's face. 

"Now are you ready, hyung?" Jimin asks as he sits high on his knees and positions himself over Yoongi's tip. 

Yoongi uses both hands to steady Jimin's thighs, dancing his fingertips over the stockings, then gripping gently while Jimin reaches up to the top of the headboard and leans his chest close to Yoongi's face. 

"I don't think I could ever fully be ready for someone as perfect as you fucking me, Jiminah," Yoongi confesses with a smile, tilting his head until his tongue is able to flit out and drag over a dusky, pert nipple. "You'll just have to give it to me; force me to be ready. Don't hold back."

"As you wish, hyung," Jimin responds sweetly as he begins to sink down. 

The tip of Yoongi's cock breaches Jimin's hole with a shutter and whimper from both men in tandem. Yoongi grips Jimin's hips bruisingly, expecting Jimin to stop and adjust, but Jimin keeps lowering, down, down, down until he is fully seated and choking pretty, broken sobs. 

Yoongi is overwhelmed with pleasure, squeezed with blissful tight warmth, and he quakes with each gentle squeeze of muscle around him. His breath feels heavy in his lungs, and as he lets out a groaned exhale, he releases his grip on Jimin's thighs and rests his head back in a desperate attempt to get his bearings, teetering on the brink of total mental collapse.

"Hol—" is all Yoongi manages to moan as Jimin lifts and drops, slamming his ass against Yoongi's thighs, letting out a dulcet whimper that is rivaled by Jimin's pitchier one. 

"Big," Jimin mutters as he picks up a dizzying pace of slowly lifting before forcefully dropping, spearing himself so nice and deep, Yoongi feels like he may be carving the poor guy open. 

Jimin is magnificent with his head tilted back and lips hung wide, whimpering as he rises and drops and rises and drops. Somehow exactly as Yoongi imagined, yet so much more. His cock glistens hard against his tummy, dribbling with precum and so neglected, bouncing against his abs with each drop, leaving a little splatter behind.

"I won't last," Yoongi admits, feeling the blissful, agonizing squeeze that is only intensified as Jimin's muscles flutter with pleasure. "I usually have more—ahh—s-stamina, but you feel so g-good."

"Awe, hyungie," Jimin purrs, tilting his head forward and opening his dreamy, lust-lidded eyes. "That's ok. I just hope you can keep going…ruin me like you promised."

"I can," Yoongi croaks. It will be much easier to stave off his orgasm when he is in full control; like this, he doesn't stand a chance. 

"There's always tomorrow, too," Jimin mutters half-dazed, and Yoongi smirks at the prospect of Jimin wanting him after tonight. 

Yoongi rubs his hands up Jimin's hips, along the delicate curve of his waist and the white lace garter, and further, palming over pecs. As Jimin lifts and drops, Yoongi almost feels overwhelmed by the arousal that pools and pools, warm and aching in his center, tingling to his limbs, filling him with desire. He wants to grab Jimin tight and fuck up into him, but Jimin feels and looks so amazing he lets him take his time. 

With a grin that morphs into a bite of his lower lip, Jimin lifts his hips and swivels them, whorling around Yoongi's tip and tugging up, making him gasp and groan. Yoongi rubs his hands down to Jimin's waist and gently holds, helping keep him steady while the dancer twists and swishes, creating dizzying patterns to the song Yoongi barely hears over the pounding of his heart. 

"God, your body…" Yoongi mutters, eyes heavy as he watches muscle tense and soften. 

"You like how I feel, hyung?" Jimin mutters as he swirls up. 

Before Yoongi can respond, Jimin begins to bounce his ass up and down to the beat of the background song, just fucking himself on Yoongi's tip – teasing in a most delightful way. 

"How you feel…" Yoongi mutters, head rolling back against the headboard, looking down his nose at the beauty above him. "How you look, how you sound…you're fucking perfect, baby."

Jimin smiles and runs his hands over Yoongi's neck, then uses one hand to leverage himself on Yoongi's shoulder while the other takes a handful of hair and grips tight. 

"You're just saying that because I'm fucking you," Jimin teases through gasps and whimpers, gaze turning sharp while he begins to drop his hips back down and spear himself deep.

Even with a cock buried inside him, Jimin is a brat. Yoongi finds it way too endearing, though he is eager to flip the pretty dancer over and fuck him so good he can no longer talk back. He rolls his eyes, moaning as Jimin rides him a little steadier, trying to ignore how rapidly his pleasure builds.

"True," Yoongi mutters, playing along. If Jimin wants to be petulant, two can play this game.

"Ah—" Jimin moans, "I knew it. Just using me for my perfect ass."

Yoongi's hands slide over the soft, inviting curves of Jimin's hips and ass, and he takes two splayed handfuls and gives him a squeeze, moaning, "Exactly."

With his palms gripping tight, Yoongi assists Jimin in his movements, lifting and dropping him in a nice steady rhythm. Rather than attempt to stave his high, he chases it now, eager to change positions and give Jimin more. 

Jimin whimpers and sobs, breath coming out punchy and ragged while his tip leaks precum. 

"Are you close, baby?" Yoongi asks, receiving only a whimpered, "Uh-huh," in response. 

"What did I say about using your words?" Yoongi insists through grit teeth, finding it harder to steady his breathing and speak clearly. 

"Yes, Yoongi," Jimin moans, sending a chill down Yoongi's spine at the sound of his name. "I'm so close."

Yoongi pulls one hand away, lifts it to his mouth, and spits into his palm. He stares up at Jimin as he wraps his hand around Jimin's cock head and squeezes just enough to elicit a moan and shiver from him, then he begins to stroke nice and slow, collecting dribbled precum on his palm.

"Hyung," Jimin whimpers, body tensing and relaxing over and over. 

"Say my name, baby," Yoongi instructs with a smirk, watching Jimin's lips tremble and form unvoiced syllables. 

Jimin leans forward and takes two handfuls of Yoongi's hair as he lifts and slams his ass with purpose. Each breath Yoongi pants hits Jimin's chest, creating a pocket of sticky warmth between them. 

"Yoongi," Jimin whines as his grip tightens, tugging on Yoongi's scalp and making him hiss. 

"Yes, baby?"

Jimin's voice cracks, barely croaking out the words, "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, Jiminah," Yoongi moans, feeling his own high reach its peak. "Cum all over this cock, baby, let me feel you."

Jimin's muscles squeeze and release– frenzied and dizzying as his rhythm falters. Rather than lift, he grinds, burying Yoongi so deep, the air feels trapped in Yoongi's chest. 

"That's it, baby," Yoongi wheezes through grit teeth, stroking Jimin at an angle that has him gently punching his fist against both their tummies. "Use my cock to get yourself off. Fuck, you feel so good."

Jimin's back arches and his body quakes as he cums. Yoongi squeezes at his tip, urging more and more release to coat his fist sticky-white, digging his heels into the mattress as he fucks his hips upward, just enough to get Jimin bouncing and moaning. Jimin squeezes him so tight, pushing him right over the edge. 

"Gonna cum, baby," Yoongi groans as every nerve prickles tingly and hot, ready to burst. 

"Fill me, Yoongi," Jimin sobs as he bounces in quick, shallow movements. "Make me messy."

The squeeze of Jimin's muscles, and fucked out, eager sound of his voice has Yoongi's orgasm hitting hard. He releases Jimin's cock, gripping onto his thighs with both hands as his body trembles roughly with pleasure. Yoongi barely makes a sound, rasping around heaving breaths as his eyes squeeze momentarily tight, attempting to relax as his orgasm pulses through him in tremendous bursts, making him see stars. 

"That's it, hyung," Jimin whimpers, leaning all the way forward, draping himself over Yoongi's shoulders. "Feels so good."

Yoongi sits back, catching his breath as his cock softens, running his clean palm up Jimin's back while the cum-covered hand falls to the side. Jimin's muscles continue to flutter, and he nuzzles his face against Yoongi's neck, leaving lazy, wet kisses against the skin and filling Yoongi with butterflies. 

The music continues to play, changing from one sexy beat to another. A female artist sings, but Yoongi is unable to make out what she is saying. His pulse thumps in his ears and throat, forcing each breath out in a lively beat of his own. 

"It feels nice to just…sit here and hold you," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's skin. 

"I would hug you back but one of my hands is covered in your cum."

Jimin hums in understanding, adding, "You got it on my thigh," with a familiar bratty tone. 

"You wanted to be messy," Yoongi grumbles with a smile, feeling absolutely smitten. 

Jimin groans, "I did," as he slowly begins to sit up, taking the warmth of his body away. 

Yoongi shivers as the sweat that covers him turns cold. He tips his head back and looks up as Jimin settles on his lap, cock-warming him while sitting tall, smiling sweetly. 

"I guess since you got what you wanted, you don't need me anymore," Jimin teases with a smirk and a lift of one eyebrow as he reaches out and undoes what is left of the bun in Yoongi's hair, tossing his trusty hair tie aside. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes and lolls his head back, trying not to smile as he mutters, "Really, Jiminah?"

With wide, playful eyes, Jimin nods, sliding his ass up, up, up until Yoongi's soft, cum-covered cock falls away, making him shudder. 

"You had a taste of my perfect ass, so—"

"Oh, I had a taste, alright," Yoongi interrupts with a grin, sitting up and causing Jimin to move slightly backward. "You think I'm gonna just leave now? Never to see you again?"

Jimin's playful demeanor begins to crumble as Yoongi lifts his soiled hand and begins to lick at what is left of Jimin's heady, salty-sweet release. 

"Uh, I—" Jimin says, lips forming around syllables he never voices. 

"What about promising me tomorrow? Hmm?" Yoongi asks before dragging his tongue over his knuckles, cleaning the remnants of Jimin's cum.

Now that his hand is far less messy, Yoongi grips onto Jimin's waist nice and tight and lift-pushes the dancer onto his back. Jimin yelps as he hits the pretty green sheet, pink hair sweat-stuck together in little spikes, fanning messily around his beautiful face. 

"I'm not finished with you yet," Yoongi says as he gets onto his knees and towers over Jimin. "Weren't you just whining about me ruining you moments ago?"

Jimin giggles softly, reaching his arms to wrap around Yoongi's neck. Yoongi gently takes Jimin by the wrists and pushes his arms to the mattress, pressing his weight down, watching with delight as Jimin gasps and shivers beneath him. 

"You really think I could only do this once?" Yoongi teases as he leans forward, crowding Jimin's space. "Now that I've had a taste of you, I'll be craving you, Jiminah."

"I-is that so?" Jimin breathes, head tilting as if offering the expanse of his neck to Yoongi – an invitation Yoongi takes as he drags his lips over salt-slick skin. 

"That is so."

"Are you sure you can keep going?" Jimin asks sweetly. "You just came twice."

"I could fuck you all night, baby," Yoongi insists, licking and nipping until Jimin gasps. "Just need a moment to get hard again. Why? Can you keep going?"

Each breath that puffs from Jimin's lips sounds heavy. "I can, but…I might get overstimulated."

"I know," Yoongi groans with a smile. "I watched you fall apart on my fingers, remember?"

"I might get…really…lost," Jimin admits.

Yoongi releases Jimin's hands and moves them to the mattress so he can press more weight down and angle himself upward just enough to look Jimin in the eyes. 

"Like, subspace?" Yoongi asks, watching Jimin's eyes widen. 

"Maybe," Jimin mutters. "I just get really…floaty. Like my soul and body are disconnected…held together by pleasure."

Yoongi nods in understanding. "Do you want to hold off, then? Wait until we're more comfortable with each other before you go there with me?"

The smile that tugs on Jimin's lips is sweet, and his eyes sparkle as he says, "I have a feeling you will take good care of me, hyung."

Affection bursts warm in Yoongi's chest. "Of course, I will. But I still understand if that's something you want to build up to."

Jimin shakes his head and nibbles on his lip. "I trust you. I'll call my safe word if I need to."

"You don't go non-verbal at all?"

Jimin pinches his brow and shakes his head. "No."

"Alright," Yoongi agrees, eager to keep going as long as Jimin feels safe. 

Jimin leans forward, groaning as his chin juts out, puckering for a kiss, making Yoongi chuckle softly. Yoongi closes the gap and presses further, allowing Jimin to lie comfortably, and he licks and sucks at Jimin's soft, sinful mouth. 

"Sorry for ruining the mood with talking," Jimin mutters against Yoongi's lips.

Yoongi hums as he licks into Jimin's warm, petal mouth, opening him wide; making space. Jimin tastes so delicately sweet yet heady, and Yoongi has no choice but to chase every nuanced flavor, eager to discover more. Jimin's hums and groans are music to Yoongi's ears, and he swallows each sound with ease. 

Rather than lifting his head, Yoongi simply stops kissing, letting his lips rest on Jimin, who smiles. Yoongi wishes he could adequately communicate just how important every little thing Jimin thinks, feels, and needs is, to him. 

"Discussing boundaries is never a mood killer," Yoongi insists against his lips. "I never want you to hold anything back."

"Thank you, hyung," Jimin mutters, leaving pecks of soft kisses along Yoongi's mouth and chin.

"Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum, Jiminah. You deserve to be cared for."

The way Jimin squeals and wiggles beneath him makes his smile go lopsided. Yoongi lifts his head just enough to watch Jimin's cheeks flush, taking in the beauty of his shimmery and black makeup smudged around his eyes. 

"Shut up," Jimin groans.

"Shut me up," Yoongi challenges with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Jimin tilts his chin up once more, chasing a kiss. As Yoongi leans down, giving into his desire, one warm hand wraps around his half-hard cock, making him shiver and groan; this certainly is one way to get him to stop talking. 

"Want you again, Yoongi," Jimin pleads into Yoongi's open mouth, tugging on his cock. "Need you."

"You have me, baby," Yoongi practically moans, licking against Jimin's lips as his arousal simmers and warms him. "Turn over, on your stomach."

Jimin nods as he deepens the kiss, licking eagerly into Yoongi's mouth, sighing as Yoongi pushes and pulls with his tongue. When Jimin breaks the kiss, fingertips dig into Yoongi's neck and shoulder, and both men are panting, thickening the air between them with moist warmth. 

Jimin begins to wiggle around onto his side, then his stomach, and Yoongi stays where he is, caging him in with his arms and lifting his knees one after the other to accommodate Jimin's legs. Once Jimin is settled, Yoongi leans forward and presses his lips to the back of Jimin's neck, nipping and swirling his tongue as Jimin moans, back bowing delicately – trembling.

Yoongi kisses down the curve of Jimin's spine, crawling backward onto his knees. He sucks marks at the top of Jimin's ass, nipping and licking over dewy-smooth skin and lifting his hands to cup and squeeze. As he sits up, he kneads gently into Jimin's perfect, pillowy flesh, spreading him wide. Jimin's puffy rim glistens with leaked cum, and Yoongi wets his lips as he runs two fingertips over the mess before pressing deep inside. 

Jimin moans loudly, broken and debauched, as Yoongi fingers his tight asshole, feeling his own cum squelch, icky and enticing. He looks around for the bottle of lube and leans back, allowing his fingers to be slowly released as he reaches for it with his free hand. 

"You sure you can keep going?" Yoongi asks as he flicks the lube bottle open with his thumb, caressing the soft swell of Jimin's ass and thigh. 

"I'm not fragile, hyung," Jimin whimpers with his hands beside his head, clutching onto the comforter that has been bunched up and pushed out of the way. 

"Never said you were," Yoongi smiles fondly, squirting lube into his palm and working it over his cock, hissing from the sensation on his tender skin. "Just don't want to push you too far."

Jimin groans a pitchy sound that Yoongi assumes is impatience. "We already discussed this. My safe word is strawberry, hyung. Please fuck me."

Yoongi rubs his lubed hand sloppily over Jimin's hole, nibbling his lip as Jimin bucks and trembles against him. "Say that last part again."

There is a second of hesitation, followed by a soft sigh that makes Yoongi grin. He opens his mouth to ask again nicely, but Jimin beats him to it, muttering, "Please fuck me, Yoongi."

Jimin spreads his thighs flat against the bed and extends his legs straight, laying in a perfect split, and Yoongi gasps at the sight of him. He leans forward to accommodate the new height, gripping onto his length with one hand and Jimin's hip with the other. With a devious giggle, Jimin begins to bounce his ass, clapping his cheeks softly in a show that has Yoongi absolutely reeling. 

Without a moment more to spare, Yoongi leans forward on his knees and lines himself up with Jimin's rim, using his non-sticky hand to guide one of Jimin's hips. "You're a fucking menace," he groans as he presses in, in, in, spearing Jimin open as they whine and moan in tandem, feeling pleasure burst through his limbs like rays of warm, alluring light. 

"Squeezing me, baby," Yoongi rasps as he slowly slides out, giving Jimin no time to adjust. He places both hands on Jimin's hips and begins to rock his body, fucking into Jimin without moving his own hips. The delicate, elongated stretch of Jimin's mesh clad legs, right down to the tips of his pretty little toes has Yoongi torn between wanting to cherish him like something delicate or completely wreck him. 

"Such a slutty little dancer and you're all mine," Yoongi teases as he continues to rock Jimin's hips against him, watching his puffy rim swallow him whole. "What would your admirers think if they knew you wore a plug on stage while you were doing the splits to tease me?"

"Hyung," Jimin whines, burying his face down into the comforter. 

Yoongi slides his hands to the bed and leans forward, slowly thrusting his hips up and down while walking his hands up to Jimin's armpits, hovering nice and close. The scent of strawberry mixed with a faint, sweaty musk is sticky-sweet enticing, and Yoongi lets his eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep breath in. 

"You even performed for all of our friends wearing a toy," Yoongi rasps beside Jimin's ear. "What would they think of you?"

"Stop," Jimin whines, dragging the word long and whiny. 

Yoongi nuzzles his face against Jimin's nape, nipping at short pink hairs. "Alright, I'll stop teasing you, baby," he mutters sweetly, smiling at the sound of Jimin cooing happily. 

"Mmm, I like it," Jimin admits with a groan, making Yoongi nuzzle harder, grinning at the thought of Jimin feeling shy.

The smacking of skin is heard in lewd, rhythmic bursts. Yoongi fucks Jimin nice and steady, listening for the strained "Ah!" that punctuates each thrust, huffing small sounds of his own. 

Yoongi begins to sit back, careful not to let his hips lose too much rhythm. Once on his knees, Yoongi spreads Jimin wide with both hands and leans his weight into him, fucking him much faster. Jimin jiggles hypnotically, and Yoongi gives him light spanks to each cheek, unable to resist playing with him; delighted by the sound of him squealing. 

"Hyung, I want to cum again," Jimin cries, gripping the floral blanket tight. 

Yoongi wants to watch him cum – wants to touch and tease his cock while praising him and making him sob. As he slowly pulls out, Jimin trembles and groans in protest. Yoongi gives his ass a couple of light taps and mutters, "On your back." 

"Hyung" Jimin complains, elongating the word, making Yoongi smirk. 

Jimin crawls slightly forward and bends at the knees, then flops onto his side, huffing dramatically as if he cannot be bothered to move a single inch more. 

"I know, I know," Yoongi mutters, grabbing Jimin by the hips and pulling him the rest of the way onto his back. Jimin squeals and laughs, spreading his legs wide while watching with eager, mascara-smudged eyes as Yoongi continues to position him right where he wants him. 

"Sorry I can't choose between wanting to see your ass and wanting to see your face," Yoongi grumbles defensively while pumping his cock and reaching for the bottle of lube. He squirts some directly onto his shaft – cool liquid on warm skin – and he smears it in one stroke.

"Wow, and they say chivalry is dead," Jimin teases, lifting his eyebrows playfully with a grin. 

Yoongi slides his length into Jimin's tight warmth in one swift movement, and Jimin's grin falls agape as his back arches. He lets out a deep, pleased moan that Yoongi mirrors with a slow intake of air, filling his lungs. The curve of Jimin's neck, along his chest, and down to his tummy bows delicately taut, and Yoongi maps each inch with his eyes, stunned by his beauty. 

When Jimin settles slowly onto his back, Yoongi reaches forward and slots two fingers into Jimin's mouth. Jimin clamps his lips closed and gently sucks as Yoongi begins to set a steady pace with his hips. 

"Good boy," he praises, and Jimin's eyes blow wide. "So fucking good for me. So pretty and tight and perfect."

Jimin anchors himself onto his elbows, muttering something that sounds like a question, and Yoongi nods, smiling sweetly down at Jimin, watching his hard, leaking cock slap his tummy with each thrust. 

"Perfect, pretty Jiminah. And you're all mine."

More sounds are uttered around Yoongi's fingers as Jimin's eyes roll and his head bobs with the rocking of their bodies. Yoongi reaches between them and rolls his palm over the tip of Jimin's cock, eliciting his eyes to open big and round. 

Already, Jimin looks dazed, back draped slightly with his head held up only enough to suck on Yoongi's fingertips, supported against his elbows. Jimin's fingers slowly dance over the material of his green floral sheet, legs flayed lazily around Yoongi's hips. 

Yoongi slowly tugs at Jimin's length, making him whimper and sputter incoherently. Jimin rocks his hips and squeezes around Yoongi in a rhythm matching Yoongi's thrusts – must be chasing his own high. Seeing Jimin looking dazed and eager to cum again, stuffed with fingers and cock, Yoongi's mind races as he attempts to sort out how he got so fucking lucky.

"'S good," Jimin whines, dropping his head back and letting Yoongi's drool-slick fingers drag over his chin. 

Yoongi continues his pace – a deliberate roll of hips – letting his fingers slowly fall past Jimin's chin, to his chest, tracing curves and dips until finally taking hold of him around the ribs. Gradually, Jimin's arms give way, and he lies back – head first, then shoulders, sinking deeper against green flowers with his eyes hazy and wide. 

"Are you floaty, Jiminah?" Yoongi asks sweetly, wetting his salty-dry lips. 

Jimin hums and crooks a lazy smile, lifting his hands slowly to rub over his pecs and tummy. Yoongi follows the movements, feeling affection swirl and swell behind his ribs. At this pace, he thinks he could fuck Jimin for an eternity if he tried; his pleasure simmers just below the surface nice and steady, with no risk of boiling over too soon. 

"Ah—Yoongi," Jimin gasps, chest heaving and falling. "I'm—"

Yoongi rolls his palm over Jimin's tip and gives him a firm enough squeeze to make him sob. 

"Gonna cum, pretty?" he asks. 

Wide-eyed and mouth droopy-round, Jimin nods. His lips form shapes unvoiced, and Yoongi continues to roll and squeeze, languidly syncopating his quicker thrusts. 

"Cum for me, baby. Get nice and messy."

Jimin's eyes flutter, and his back arches slowly, head and heels digging into the mattress. "Please, please, please," he mutters softly like a prayer, palms flaying and squeezing above his ribs. 

"Relax and let go," Yoongi urges sweetly. "Let yourself float."

As if reacting on command, Jimin's body goes rigid and taut before quaking and sinking – thunder growling from his depths and dispersing out. He spurts tiny piles of cum onto Yoongi's fingers and palm, mouth forming softly-uttered stormy sounds. Even in the throes of incomprehensible bliss, every little thing Jimin does is eloquent; a performer and a muse. 

"Harder," Jimin groans, taking Yoongi by surprise. "P-please, Yoongi, need you."

Yoongi grips Jimin's hips with both hands, smearing cum on his sweat-slick, goosebumped skin. He picks up a pace that has Jimin's legs lifting and stretching, and Yoongi slings both calves against his shoulders before leaning in and taking hold of his hips once more. 

Jimin wails, eyes squeezed as if pained, licking and biting at his reddened lower lip. His arms lift and fall around his head, and he grips onto the bunched-up pink and orange comforter.

"This how you want it?" Yoongi asks, feeling his high build and build, impossible to hold at bay.

"Mmm, 's good," Jimin slurs, opening his eyes wide and smiling before his face falls back into a state of lazy bliss. 

Yoongi would love for Jimin to cum once more but has no idea whether he can. His cock is limp and resting against his patch of cutely trimmed pubic hair, jostling with each slam of Yoongi's hips against his thighs. 

"Not gonna last at this pace," Yoongi warns through grit teeth, his high climbing fast toward its breaking point. 

"Fill me," Jimin mutters dazedly. "Make me messy."

"Say my name," Yoongi rasps as he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes closed, gripping harshly to Jimin's soft hips. 

"Yoo—" Jimin sighs, bowing his back. "Yoongi. Please, Yoongi."

Pleasure courses through Yoongi, flowing like lava in his bloodstream. He keeps his pace steady, holding back from slamming too fast or too deep. Cum and lube squelch around his cock, and the thought of watching it drip from Jimin's used, puffy hole is just the push he needs to reach orgasm. 

"Fuck, Jiminah," Yoongi groans, dragging blunt fingernails in streaks along Jimin's sides. "I'm—ahh, fuck!"

Yoongi's body tenses and releases in waves of pleasure – white-hot and overwhelming. He quakes as he spurts his cum into Jimin's begging, fluttering hole, babbling nonsense, attempting to praise, failing around each syllable. Jimin sobs and squeezes, trying but failing to reach for Yoongi. 

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans forward, hands slipping and crashing into the mattress, dripping sweat from his forehead to Jimin's chest. Now that he is within reach, Jimin reaches and clings, grabbing Yoongi's shoulders and yanking down until Yoongi gives in and falls forward. Pleasure continues to tremble through him – chest heaving and jumpy as he does his best to settle and relax. 

"Holy shit," he mutters into Jimin's clavicle, covering his face in sweat. "That was—"

"Amazing," Jimin coos. 

Yoongi smiles and nods, kissing anywhere his lips reach in slow movements. "Amazing."

Where they lay in the center of the bed, Yoongi is unable to stretch his legs far before hitting the headboard, so they stay in a ball while he catches his breath and litters Jimin's shoulder, neck, and chin with affection. It takes time, but Jimin begins to come back to earth, clinging a little more purposefully. 

"You made me messy," he mutters with more clarity than Yoongi has heard for a while. 

"Lemme see," Yoongi says as he sits up, groaning from his soft cock sliding from where it was nestled nice and warm. 

Jimin groans shyly, covering his face with his hands as Yoongi sits up and lifts his spread legs. He puts up a tiny amount of resistance, but Yoongi holds firmly, nibbling his lip, trusting Jimin to use his safe word if he really does not want to be teased. 

Dropping a leg to the side, Yoongi uses his thumb to press pearly liquid back into Jimin's puckered hole, grinning like an idiot when Jimin whimpers, legs shaking. 

"Messy baby," Yoongi teases, earning his arm a light smack from Jimin's foot. 

Yoongi pulls his fingers away and watches as Jimin tenses, causing the cum to dribble back out. He rubs his hands over Jimin's shins and calves, watching as Jimin heavy-blinks at the ceiling. 

"Shower?"

Jimin's gaze finds Yoongi's, and he smiles, then nods. "Carry me?" he asks with a cute bat of his lashes that makes Yoongi's heart go haywire.

And although Yoongi makes a show of rolling his eyes and being indignant, he gets up and stretches, then turns his back to Jimin and taps his shoulder. 

"Get on."

"Ooh, piggyback?" Jimin shouts, and Yoongi turns his head in time to see Jimin sit high on his knees and fling himself over Yoongi's shoulders. 

Yoongi links his arms around sweaty thighs and has to bend and hop a few times to get Jimin in place – a mildly humiliating task while nude – then he is off, kicking discarded clothing items along the way. 

"We should take a bath," Jimin mutters into Yoongi's shoulder. 

Yoongi hums and nods, turning left into the hallway and again into the bathroom. "Anything you want."

Although Yoongi would love to dote on Jimin hand and foot, he is grateful when Jimin slides off his back and begins the bath, finding sweetly-scented bubble products to squeeze into the stream and controlling the temperature. Jimin slides out of the lace garter and mesh stockings, and sinks into the tub when the water is barely a few inches high. Yoongi presses a kiss on his forehead before leaving to fetch a glass of cool water from the kitchen, lingering just a moment to take in the sunflower pan holders and mismatched cooking utensils. 

Yoongi returns with the glass to his lips, taking slow, steady sips and smiling over the rim. 

"Sit up and drink this," he instructs a sleepy Jimin, whose cheeks are pinkened from the warm water. 

Once the bath is full, Yoongi slots himself behind Jimin, fitting perfectly with his legs outstretched. He rubs Jimin's shoulders and litters him with kisses. And when the water cools, he insists they shower off, helping Jimin finger the cum from his ass while licking deep into his mouth. 

"I could get used to this," Jimin groans as Yoongi wraps a towel tightly around his hips and uses another to squeeze the remaining water from his hair. 

"Good," Yoongi responds against his lips, finding it impossible to spend too many minutes without touching and kissing. "Want you to get used to this."

"Stay the night," Jimin whines, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's middle and walking him backward out of the bathroom. 

Yoongi smiles and nips at petal lips. "That was the plan."

"Stay tomorrow night, too," Jimin groans as they hobble out into the hallway, bumping Yoongi's elbow against the doorframe enough to make him hiss. 

"Won't you get tired of me?" Yoongi barely utters slightly pained against Jimin's soft, greedy mouth.

Jimin releases their hug and pulls Yoongi by the hand back to bed. He has a pep in his step as he gathers his phone – shutting off the music, finally – and finds the lube bottle tangled in the blanket. 

"Doubtful," Jimin finally says as he crawls into bed and plops down, yanking Yoongi's hand until he sits and lays beside him. 

"Alright," Yoongi grins, wrapping himself around Jimin and pulling him close, chest to chest, on their sides. His hair is still damp, but he is unconcerned when Jimin beckons so adamantly. With a gentle teasing tone, he says, "I'll cancel all my foreseeable plans and live only to serve you."

Jimin smiles and hums, saying, "Good," into Yoongi's mouth. 

In a tangle of tongues and limbs, Yoongi sighs and sinks, unable to hold back the affection that overflows from him. He thinks he could also get used to this. 

thank you so much for reading!!! reblogs & comments make the world go 'round!!! and likes are super appreciated too!!!

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Denim & Strawberry is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. 

[solastia]

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Y/N (OFC)

Warnings: None Currently. Will be smut later on. Perhaps a small warning for the overuse of musical symbolism, because I'm cheesy like that. Also trying out a different POV for reader view.

Summary: Y/N and Yoongi embark on a whimsical journey of love, laughter, and cat-induced chaos. Their romance has led to a shared living space, and now they navigate the highs and lows of cohabitating bliss. AKA: A series of slice-of-life drabbles to help me get in a writing mood when I'm having trouble, and to help me grow with my writing. And it's about Yoongi, surprise!

PART TWO

*      *      *

The shrill beeping of the alarm clock sliced through Y/N's dreams like a knife. A clumsy hand emerged from the cocoon of blankets, fumbling for salvation from the noise. With a satisfying click, silence prevailed. Y/N stretched, arms reaching towards the ceiling as a wide yawn claimed her face.

"Another day," she muttered to herself, voice scratchy with sleep.

Padding across the room, her feet found the cool floor comforting. The aroma of coffee and something sweet wafted from the kitchen, guiding her like a siren song. There, Min Yoongi, hair tousled from sleep yet eyes alert, stood flipping pancakes with an ease that spoke of quiet mornings and softer nights.

"Morning," Y/N mumbled, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey sleepyhead," Yoongi greeted without turning around. His voice was smooth, a contrast to the sizzle of breakfast on the stove.

"Smells amazing." She approached him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her head against his back.

"Only the best for you," he said, his tone treading the delicate line between sincerity and jest.

Y/N circled around to face him, taking in the sight of Yoongi in his domestic element. His hands moved with practiced grace, and there was a faint smile on his lips – one that spoke more of contentment than amusement.

"Did I ever tell you that you look incredibly handsome in the morning light?" Y/N teased, standing on tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Every morning," Yoongi replied, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "But keep telling me."

"Consider it done." Her words were light, dancing between them like the steam rising from the freshly brewed coffee.

*      *      *

Shadow wound his sleek black body around Y/N's ankles, a silent demand for attention. She chuckled and scooped a generous portion of kibble into his bowl. "There you go, Your Majesty," she said, scratching behind his ears as he began to eat with fervor.

"Thirsty too?" She replaced his water with a fresh supply, the gentle ripple reflecting the early sunlight streaming through the window.

"Breakfast's ready," Yoongi called out, a subtle note of pride lacing his words.

"Coming!" She washed her hands and joined him at the table, where two plates of pancakes and fruit awaited them.

"Plans today?" Yoongi asked, fork poised over his creation.

"Usual stuff." Y/N shrugged, slicing a strawberry. "You?"

"Music," he answered simply, biting into a pancake. "Maybe find a new sound."

"Ah, the elusive new sound." She raised an eyebrow. "Is it hiding somewhere in the apartment?"

"Very funny." Yoongi's eyes twinkled with amusement. "It might be."

"Let me know if you need help setting a trap for it," she quipped, enjoying the familiar banter as much as the meal.

*      *      *

Y/N slung her bag over her shoulder, the strap pulling at the fabric of her scrubs. She glanced at Yoongi, who was clearing the breakfast dishes with a methodical precision that always amused her. "I'm off to save some furry lives," she declared, her tone playful yet edged with the pride of her calling.

"Make sure you save one for Shadow," Yoongi responded without looking up, his voice steady and calm as he stacked the plates with a soft clink.

"Will do. I’ll grab him some more treats on my way home, too. Maybe some gourmet fish sticks or something equally regal." She grinned, imagining Shadow's haughty little face judging the selection of treats.

"Sounds fancy. He'll approve." Yoongi finally turned, his gaze meeting hers with a warmth that never failed to stir something deep within her.

"See you tonight?" Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a fleeting kiss that held the promise of more.

"Count on it." The corners of Yoongi's mouth curved upward in a smile that didn't quite hide the reluctance in his eyes.

"Love you." She pulled back, the words floating between them like a shared secret.

"Love you more." It was their familiar refrain, yet it still sent a flutter through Y/N's chest every time.

With a final wave, she stepped out into the cool morning air, the door closing behind her with a soft click. She imagined Yoongi there, standing in the quiet aftermath, surrounded by the remnants of their morning routine.

Inside, Yoongi let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The apartment felt larger suddenly, the silence more profound. He eyed the keyboard in the corner of the room, the black and white keys gleaming under the strip of sunlight sneaking in through the blinds.

"Time to find you, new sound," he muttered to himself, a spark igniting in his chest. His fingers itched for the familiar dance across the keys, for the thrill of coaxing melodies from the depths of his imagination.

He crossed the room in a few strides, flipping on his equipment with practiced ease. Headphones settled over his ears, he surrendered to the rhythm pulsing through him, each note a building block in the architecture of his creation.

Hours slipped by unnoticed, the world outside his studio narrowing to nothing but the beats and chords that flowed from his soul. Time became irrelevant, meals forgotten, as he chased the elusive siren of inspiration. It was an all-consuming fire, and Yoongi was both the moth and the flame.

*      *      *

Keys jingled. The door creaked open. Y/N stepped in, the weight of the day lifting at the sight of home. Shadow's treats crinkled in her hand as she tiptoed past the living room, a soft hum leading her to Yoongi's studio.

"Hey," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't hear her over the music. Leaning against the doorway, Y/N watched him: head bobbing, fingers flying, lost in a world of sound and rhythm. The dedication in his furrowed brow drew a proud smile to her lips.

Shifting the bag to one hand, she peeled off her jacket, the fabric whispering its relief. Comfort beckoned. She slipped away, leaving Yoongi to his muse.

Moments later, she returned, now clad in well-worn sweatpants and an oversized tee. She sank into the couch's embrace, her gaze returning to Yoongi. The melody spilled over her, intricate and haunting—a testament to the man behind the keys.

"Sounds like you're onto something big," she called out, finally loud enough to pierce his concentration.

Yoongi glanced up, startled, then pulled the headphones down with a sheepish grin. "You think so? It's just... I don't know. A mess of notes."

"Your 'messes' could win Grammys." She chuckled, crossing her legs and settling in. "Play it for me?"

"Alright, but it's rough." He hit a few buttons, releasing the tune through the speakers.

The music filled the room, wrapping around them like a shared secret. Y/N closed her eyes, every note painting colors behind her lids.

"Rough?" she echoed when the last echo faded. "That was..." Words failed her.

"See? A mess." Yoongi's laugh was soft, self-deprecating.

"Best mess I've heard all day," she shot back. "Keep making messes, Min Yoongi. You're damn good at it."

He just shook his head, a hint of pink on his cheeks. But the pride in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Yoongi's fingers paused, hovering above the keyboard. He turned, catching Y/N’s eye. "What's up?"

"Let's cook," she suggested. "Something new."

"Uh-huh." Yoongi's eyebrow quirked up. "And what disaster are we attempting today?"

"Hey," she feigned offense, "my culinary skills have improved."

"From burnt toast to... mildly overcooked toast?" His smirk was contagious.

"Ha-ha," she deadpanned. "Come on, chef-grandpa. Impress me."

He rolled his eyes but stood, stretching limbs stiff from sitting too long. "Fine. Let's wreck the kitchen."

*      *      *

In the kitchen, recipes sprawled across the counter, they began their dance of dinner preparation. Yoongi wielded a knife with precision, chopping onions into fine pieces that could pass muster in any five-star restaurant. Y/N watched for a moment, mesmerized by the steady tap-tap-tap before shaking her head and tackling the peppers.

"Show-off," she muttered under her breath.

"Jealous?" Yoongi teased without looking up.

"Please," she snorted, "I'll have you know I'm the queen of dicing."

"Sure, as long as the kingdom doesn't mind irregular shapes."

"Character," she corrected him, tongue poking out as she concentrated on not losing a fingertip.

They moved around each other with an ease born of countless shared spaces. Pots clanged, water boiled, and spices were debated over with the gravity of international diplomacy.

"Garlic?" Yoongi held up the bulb.

"Always garlic," Y/N confirmed.

"Thought you'd say that," he said, chuckling.

"Because you know me so well?" She bumped his hip with hers, sending a carrot rolling off the countertop.

"Or because you’d put garlic in your cereal if I'm not watching." He caught the rogue vegetable mid-air, tossing it back onto the cutting board.

"Exaggeration much?" But her grin told him all he needed to know.

Laughter bubbled between them as the scent of cooking food filled the air. It was comfortable, this life they had stitched together, thread by thread—a tapestry of music, love, and now, the sizzle of stir-fry in a hot pan.

"Think it'll be edible?" Y/N asked, squinting at the recipe.

"Edible?" Yoongi feigned insult. "It'll be a masterpiece."

"Confident."

"Realistic."

"Grandfatherly."

"Hey!" But his mock indignation couldn't survive the twinkle in her eyes.

*      *      *

Plates clinked as they came to rest on the table, steaming with the colorful stir-fry that topped them. Y/N inhaled deeply, the garlic and ginger hitting her senses with a promise of flavor. Yoongi poured glasses of water, his movements precise and unhurried.

"Looks like we outdid ourselves," he said, settling across from her.

"Wait until you taste it." She picked up her chopsticks, eyeing him over the first bite. "This could be the start of our own cooking show."

"‘The Grandfatherly Gourmet’?" he suggested with a mock-serious nod.

"Only if you wear an apron with that embroidered on it." She took a bite, flavors bursting in her mouth. "Oh wow, this is good."

"Knew it would be," Yoongi replied after a moment, his own approval lighting up his face.

"Your modesty is truly astounding," she quipped, but was too busy savoring another mouthful to see his reaction.

With the meal doing a slow dance across their taste buds, they fell into a companionable silence, punctuated only by the occasional contented sigh or the soft tap of chopsticks against plates. The warmth of the apartment wrapped around them, a cocoon fashioned from shared effort and simple joys.

Dinner done, Y/N gathered the dishes, but Yoongi's hand on hers stopped her. "Leave them. Let's just... relax for a bit."

"Lazy," she accused without heat, following his lead to the couch.

"Efficient," he corrected, pulling her into the crook of his arm as they sank into the cushions.

"Same difference." She snuggled closer, the remote between them like a scepter waiting to anoint their evening entertainment.

"Comedy?" she suggested, thumb hovering over the play button.

"Something light. I've had enough drama for one day," he said, referring to the fiasco of a spilled bag of rice earlier.

"Here we go." She pressed play, and the screen lit up with the title sequence of a sitcom known for its sharp wit.

Laughter filled the room, bouncing off walls that had likely never witnessed such merriment. They repeated punchlines under their breath, chuckling at running gags and the absurdity of the characters' predicaments.

"Who writes this stuff?" Y/N gasped between laughs, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Comedic geniuses," Yoongi deadpanned, but his smile betrayed his amusement.

"Or just people who spy on us and find our life funny?" She nudged him playfully.

"Could be." He didn't miss a beat. "I mean, we are pretty funny."

"Speak for yourself, I'm downright hysterical."

"Of course you are," he agreed, squeezing her gently. "Why else would I keep you around?"

"Ouch." She feigned a wounded look. "And here I thought it was for my stir-fry skills."

"Those too," Yoongi conceded, kissing the top of her head as they settled back into the rhythm of the show, their laughter mingling with the onscreen antics.

*      *      *

Shadow, a sleek black form in the glow of the television screen, leaped onto the couch with the silence and precision of a ninja. The show's laugh track couldn’t mask the sound of his purring as he nestled firmly between Y/N and Yoongi, his green eyes an obvious plea for attention.

"Jealous much?" Y/N quipped, stroking Shadow's head, her fingers trailing down to scratch behind his ears.

"Can't blame him," Yoongi said, joining in the ritual of affection with a gentle hand. "Who wouldn't want a piece of this cozy action?"

"True. We're quite the package deal." Y/N chuckled as Shadow purred louder, a motorboat of contentment.

"Package deal, huh?" Yoongi raised an eyebrow, but his smile was soft, almost lost in the scruff that framed his jawline.

"Yep. You get one, you get all. No substitutions."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He leaned in to plant a quick kiss on her cheek, then turned his attention back to Shadow, who seemed to smile, if cats could indeed do such a thing.

The clock ticked away, stealing moments from the evening until the credits rolled over the screen, signaling it was time to say goodnight to their temporary entertainment.

"Bed?" Yoongi suggested, his voice a lullaby of calm.

"Bed." Y/N agreed, scooping Shadow into her arms to place him gently on the floor. "Night, buddy. Dream of mouse chases and endless treats."

"Or just claim our warm spot the minute we stand up," Yoongi snorted, watching as Shadow circled twice before curling up, now the king of the couch.

In the bedroom, they shed the day’s garments for the comfort of pajamas. Y/N slipped into hers, a soft cotton set that hugged her in all the right places, while Yoongi opted for an old shirt and flannel pants, the grandfatherly vibes strong even in his choice of sleepwear.

"Comfy?" he asked, eyeing her attire as they crawled under the covers.

"Always," she replied, sliding closer to him, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

"Good." He kissed her forehead, a whisper against her skin. "Because I plan on lazy Sundays being a thing."

"Lazy Sundays, hmm?" She tilted her face up, meeting his lips with her own, the kiss a promise of all the lazy Sundays to come.

"Best day of the week," he murmured against her mouth, his breath warming her soul.

"Only because it comes after Caturday," she teased, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"Terrible," he groaned, but the laughter in his voice gave him away.

"Admit it, you love my puns."

"Love is a strong word..." His hands roamed to her back, pulling her impossibly closer.

"Fine, tolerate with mild affection?" she bargained, her own hands finding the hem of his shirt.

"Sounds more like it." He conceded with a chuckle, and they settled into the quiet, the night wrapping around them like a blanket as they whispered sweet nothings, punctuated by the soft press of lips and the shared warmth of laughter lingering in the air.

*      *      *

The darkness settled, and in the quiet of their sanctuary, only the soft sound of breathing filled the room. Y/N's head rested on Yoongi's chest, rising and falling with his calm inhales and exhales. His arm wrapped around her, protective and tender, while her leg hooked over his, tangling them together in a comfortable knot.

"Think Shadow's plotting to wake us at dawn?" she mumbled, her voice drowsy.

"Only if he's planning world domination," Yoongi replied, the vibration of his chest tickling her cheek.

"Wouldn't put it past him," she chuckled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

"Then we'll just have to bribe him with treats and cuddles." His fingers sketched lazy circles on her back, tracing patterns into her skin.

"Works every time." She sighed contentedly, the tension of the day melting away in his embrace.

"Like magic," he said, a hint of a smirk in his tone.

"Your kind of magic or mine?" Her fingertip traced the outline of his lips, feeling the curve of his smile.

"Ours." He captured her finger with a gentle kiss. "Definitely ours."

"Nice save," she teased, her heart feeling as light as the words they shared.

"Always," he whispered back, his breath warm against her forehead.

In the cocoon of their bed, with the stillness enveloping them, they edged closer to slumber. A shared rhythm between two hearts, a silent symphony played just for them. The world outside faded, irrelevant to the comfort found in each other's arms.

"Night, Yoongi," she breathed, already succumbing to sleep's pull.

"Night, love," he murmured, his voice a soft lullaby coaxing her into dreams.

And as they drifted off, nestled in the haven of their home, the promise of tomorrow held no weight against the certainty of now. Love was here, laughter would follow, and together, they were home.

[thefaithfulwriter1]

𝐁𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 (𝟎𝟏. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄)

𝐁𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 |❝ You have bewitched me, body and soul. ❞

Summary - You are a young witch moving to Forks Washington after certain events that changed you. All you wanted was to start anew with your family. While trying to start another chapter in your life you find yourself forming a bond and falling in love with a vampire named Taehyung. Both of you start an adventure with each other and go through the troubles together being, a rare pair, a witch and vampire in love.

Pairing - Vampire!Taehyung x Fem!Witch!reader

Alternative Universe - Twilight Saga

Warnings - Language, Angst, Fluff, Spoilers, Violence, Gore of sorts, Past Abuse, Blood, Semi Smut, Mature Themes, May Add If Needed

Clouds. Trees. Leaves. Green. Gray. Brown. Blue.

There was a vast amount of white and gray clouds of different shades, shapes, and sizes in the grayish blue serene sky. But it stopped in the middle abruptly. To clash along with the different green tree tops. With their unique colors and forms that included different greens and browns. Looking around everything was damp. Drops of water were everywhere dripping beautifully.

Some would probably say it just rained. But you would say the sky had just stopped crying, but that was just yor thinking on the matter. The nature here all clashed so beautifully, just as beautiful and unique as any other place. The place that comes to your mind though, was New York, your home state.Though it was the total opposite of the place you were at now. You still thought they were beautiful in their own way.

The nature and uniqueness were all you could see and could think about at the moment. As you sat in the backseat of her stepfather's car. While the seats before you were being preoccupied by two men. Who were different in their own way but alike in some ways. Right now though the two were bickering continuously. The two had been playfully bantering the whole trip. The two men were your stepfather who was driving, and then next to him was your godfather. Your godfather who you saw as your uncle and called him Uncle Will. Who happened to be sitting in the passenger seat.

"Are we there yet? " William Johnson, your uncle whined to her step-father for the tenth time during your ride. He seemed to be bored at the moment more than anything. Because when he wasn't stuck in his head, or it wasn't a serious matter... he joked around and spoke a lot. Soon you could hear your step-father take a deep breath that was filled with irritation. Seeming to be over with Will's antics, knowing that he was about to joke about a song having hear it before during the drive. Hearing them you looked from the window. You turn to put your attention on the two. Watching the two of them argue again. Being it was one of your sources of entertainment during the drive.

"Man, if you ask me one more time. Imma come from way back when and smack the shit outta you," your stepfather Max Wilson yelled with agitation as he turned to William with an agitated look. After a moment Max then turned to put his focus back on the road. Then and there you could tell he was done with this drive altogether. You could also feel his emotions, irritation. tiredness, but also amusement. That he was hiding very well.

"Here we go again," you had heard a mutter come from the seat next to you. As you soon felt a nudge under your hand. There they were next to you was a black cat with its ears flickering and tail swaying behind them. As they nudge their head under your hand trying to get your attention. The black cat was male. He went by the name of Yoongi, and he was also known as Suga. Who happened to also be your familiar. Looking down, you placed a hand on his head to pet him. You then sent him a discreet nod as you continued to watch the two men in front of you begin arguing again.

"Why you gotta be so rude?" William sang with a pout. As he leaned his head back on the head rest of his seat looking at Max with his wide dark brown eyes. He was being overly dramatic at the moment. But if he wasn't he wouldn't be Will. He was a man who was humorous and a jockster. But when the time called for it he could be serious. But still even then he'd tried to crack a joke to lighten the mood. This caused you to smile thinking about Will and his jokes and humor.

"Why you gotta be so freaking annoying?" Max grumbled with tense shoulders. Even though Max was agitated, he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. While he playfully bantered with his best friend. Max was the serious one of the two. But he could still joke around when the time calls for it. He could still loosen up when he wanted to, but take charge when needed.

"You both sound like an old married couple," you voiced with a chuckle. As you looked at the two men in front of you. Before turning your attention to Yoongi. Who was now climbing into your lap making himself comfortable. With a smile you began to pet him as he purred and lied on your lap. It always made you smile when he was affectionate. Being that he was only affectionate with you.

"Well damn, why you gotta be so rude too, Y/n," William sang again but to you. Turning his head to you with an exaggerated pout on his face. While Max playfully whined like a child. Max then looked up at you through the rear view mirror with his own over exaggerated pout. These two when alone were funny, but together they were hilarious. They could make anyone laugh if they wanted to. Which they did often.

"Why do you guys gotta act like five-year old's Uncle Will? " You retorted back looking at the two with an innocent smile. Shaking your head you looked down quickly at Yoongi petting him trying to hide your giggles. Not being able to help it but egg them on. Yoongi though didn't seem to care as he laughed loudly.

"Oh burn," Yoongi chuckled with his heavy accent. Looking at the two men with a tilt of his head. He was always aggravated with the two and their jokes. But he couldn't deny they were good men. They have done so much for him like you have. He was happy to be a part of this little family and was grateful that they accepted him.

"Oh, shut up you pet," William snapped at Yoongi jokingly. William had a smirk upon his face. Knowing how much Yoongi despised being called a 'pet'. So, William used it every chance he could to get a rise out of the familiar. It was always in a joking manner. Yoongi knew but he really couldn't stand being called 'pet'. Which you could see even in his cat form you could tell he was angered. But you could tell his anger was rising through the bond you had. You also knew he was grumpy because he hadn't sleep that much during the ride. Having been trying to keep you calm. He knew how nervous you were because of the big change you were going through. Everyone knew you hated change.

"That, that is just cold," Maxed started with a shake of his head. While trying to ignore William and Yoongi. The two could go at each other continuously just like himself and William. But the two can get harsh with their jokes. Which Max really didn't want to hear at the moment. So, he tried to keep his attention off them. But it was no use as he heard Yoongi from your lap.

"Call me pet one more freaking time,''Yoongi growled, ready to pounce on William. Though before he could you were quick to pull him close to your chest. As you began to rub behind his ears down his back. Knowing the gesture would calm him. Which led Yoongi to fall into your chest. As he let out a loud purr. William was once again about to say another insult but was stopped by the glare you sent his way. Doing this caused your eyes to change into a reddish orange. Being that whenever you were feeling an intense emotion. At that moment you were annoyed immensely. Seeing this caused William to clear his throat. Not wanting to invoke you and turned his attention to Max.

"Max, well she is your daughter," William said, turning in his seat. Turning his teasing on Max once again. Also changing the subject off of Yoongi. Who was content in your arms. Seeming to be falling asleep as he fell deeper in your arms. Which caused you to smile as you continued to pet him behind his ears.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Max questioned William with a raised brow not denying the accusation. You though didn't contribute to the conversation. Because you was too busy hugging Yoongi close to you and petting him still. Yoongi then nudged you lazily under your chin. Seeming to finally fall asleep as he laid against your chest purring contently.

"Well she must have gotten it from somewhere," William insisted. Which you thought was kind of true as you listen to the two. Yes, Max wasn't your biological father. But Max was the closest thing you had to one. Him having raised you from a young age. So over the years of him raising you, you had picked up some of his habits. Not much but a few that you've carried along with you for years. The two of you never had a problem with it. But William brings it up any chance he gets to tease the two of you.

"You know she's got a mother right. She contributed too," Max retorted. Trying to take the blame off of himself. But Max soon shook his head, seeming to try to rid himself of memories. The memories of the past that haunted him at times. That he had gotten over. But he still had trouble remembering and being scared of it at times.

"Yea but that was one crazy bitch. She's nothing like her and you both raised her. So... she must've gotten it from you bro," William insisted once again. William knew what he said was true and wanted to get his pointed across on the matter. He knew you were nothing like your mother. Having been there in your life for a long time. He was there since you were a baby being friends with your mother for a long time. He was the one who had introduce Max and your mother together. Though he didn't know what happened to your mother. Neither men knew what happened to your mother. But they did know they were happy to have you in their life.

"I hate to agree but you're right man. She's better," Max praised you. As he sent you a soft sincere smile in the rearview mirror. Which you returned happily. Before you looked back out the window. Watching as the scenery went past as the car moved. But soon you looked down, stuck in your thoughts.

You were always happy when Max and William reminded you that you were nothing like your mother. Your mother being a cruel woman. She was nice the first years of your life. But when you started showing signs of magic... she changed drastically. Shaking your head you quickly turned to look out the window watching the trees and sky. Pulling Yoongi closer to you with a sigh kissing his furry head. Smiling when he purred. You were hoping that this move would be good for you. Hoping it would help you let go of the past and start seeing a new happy furture.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸ ¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

At the moment, you were sitting in your new bed. As Yoongi laid contently in your lap purring. You were watching with amazement and concentration. Practicing your magic to put things in their appropriate places. While watching your magic as it floated things in the air; books, clothes, supplies, all of your things were floating everywhere from boxes. But as you were practicing your magic something came to your mind. You were so grateful for your magic. What would you do without it? But as you thought of that statement. In a quick moment you started to remember your past. The past you so desperately wanted to forget. The past that made you who you and what you were today. A very powerful witch. But what would have happened if she would have taken your powers? What would you have done then?

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Sitting in the corner of a basement you were tied up with rope. Your crying being muffled by tape over your mouth. A woman was standing in front of you, this woman was your mother. She was pacing back and forth vigorously, in panic reading the book in her hands. A book that you learned over the years was a grimoire.

You knew why her mother was panicking. She was panicking because she knew she didn't have enough time. Enough time to do what she had planned with the ritual she had set up for you. The reason being because Max and William would be on their way to save you soon. She was think of what she could do but came up with dead ends.

The reason you knew this was because you could hear her. More specifically, you could hear her thoughts. Her thoughts at the time were erratic and chaotic. But with her thoughts in such a state. it made it easy for you to find out many things from reading them. Being that her walls were down making her vulnerable along with them being loud. One thing that you found out was about the ritual she performed on you the night before. After she had used a spell on you to make you sleep.

The ritual that she had already done on you had made you more powerful than ever. You found out that was all part of her plan she had set up. You were just a vessel to hold the magic. Then she would extract it from you along with your own magic. Which made you weep from her spot in the corner.

That was the night you had been the most scared in your life. But it seemed to be the night that everything had changed for you. You have obtained more power than ever. Then without you knowing your magic had called out to Yoongi your familiar. You then ended up bonding with him as a witch and familiar. Who had been the one to take down your mother. When William and Max found you that night you were sobbing in the arms of Yoongi. Who had untied you and was trying to comfort and sooth you as he rocked you back and forth. While there was a pile of dust in front of you both where your mother once stood.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸ ¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

"Hey Y/n. It's okay, come back to me. Come on," Yoongi's deep accent voice shook you from the past you were remembering. In front of you was a man. Who had long ebony hair, dark brown eyes, two black cat ears, and a tail swaying behind him. It took a moment, but you soon realized it was Yoongi in his human form. He was wearing his signature color black, a black shirt and a black pair of pants.

"Suga?" You sniffled as tears fell down your cheeks. As you looked around to find everything now floating mid air. Having stopped when you got caught up in your memory. This wasn't the first time this had happened. But everytime it happened you always had Yoongi there to help you through it. Which always made you grateful for your familiar.

"Hey sweetheart," Yoongi soothed. He placed a hand on your cheeks drying your tears and to try and keep you grounded. Looking around Yoongi then with a flick of his wrist, made everything go to their proper place with his own magic. The magic the both of you shared together.

"Was I out of it again," you whispered curiously. Looking into his dark brown eyes wondering what had happened. Sometimes when this happened you could be in a daze and not know what was happening around you. Which caused Yoongi to worry for you.

"Yes, but it's okay," Yoongi reassured you. He then reached behind you and began to pull the blanket on the bed back. He then gently pushed you to lay back into bed. He knew it was a little earlier, but he wanted you to get enough sleep for your first day of school tomorrow. He was worried for you but had faith in you. He had faith that you would get through this and would come out on top.

"Let's get you to bed, okay you've got school tomorrow my little witch," He reminded you softly. As he pulled the blankets over you. Making sure you were comfortable in bed.

"Okay," you sighed. As you began to get comfortable. Looking at the ceiling you were stuck in your thoughts. But your attention is grabbed when you hear a wisp of wind and a soft crack sound. Signifying that Yoongi was shifting into his cat form. When he was down shifting into his black cat form Yoongi then jumped into bed with you. Allowing you to hold him close.

"Yoongi?" You whispered as you petted Yoongi. Who was laying on your chest and purring as he rubbed his head under your chin. He was trying desperately to calm you. Which seemed to be working as you sighed snuggling closer to him.

"Yes Y/n," Yoongi answered. Looking up at you with a tilt of his head, He was curious wondering what you would ask him.

"You won't ever leave or hurt me right ?" You whispered the question that was plaguing her mind at the moment. As you looked down to her familiar of two years. Yoongi was quick to look up at you. He didn't put it against you to ask him such a question after having your mother betray you. You always seemed to ask him every once in a while. Which broke his heart. But he was quick to answer without hesitation.

"Never I'll always be here for you Y/n no matter what. Now get some sleep," Yoongi promised you. As he nudged you under your chin and began to purr. Which led you to fall into a deep dreamless sleep to the sound of Yoongi's purring.

[jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae]

Blinding Lights Chapter One

Hey guys! I wanted to try something new! This is content I’ve been playing around with for a long time but didn’t have any confidence in. This piece is already in it’s second chapter so I decide to try posting the first chapter to see if people are interested. I hope you guys like it!

Hybrids: Munchkin Cat Reader (Omega), Fox Jin (Omega), Panther Yoongi (Alpha), Golden Retriever Hoseok (Beta), Wolf Namjoon (Alpha), Calico Cat Jimin (Omega), Tiger Taehyung (Beta), Bunny Jungkook (Beta)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3312

Next Chapter

It’s easy to hate the world when you’re trapped in a box. Staring at the same walls and praying for a break in the mundane, ordinary, repetitive days. Hybrids hate being trapped. They crave freedom, open air, sunlight and comfort. Trapped Omegas are worse. Without a pack, their self-hatred only grows, leaving room for little else.

Since I was twenty, I had spent most of my time trapped in the small space under the floorboards. My newest owner said that’s where Hybrids belong unless they’re needed. My job is the please the boss’ clients. They get to live their fantasies. Some are sexual and other are more into physical pain. It’s a shock I have lost my mind completely.

It’s been seven years. Seven long year living a life worse than death. Learning to dread specific sounds, like now. Muted voices, the shuffling of feet, the whisper of the carpet being lifted, and the creak of the trap door. Next is the smell of my owner’s grossly expensive cologne. The person he’s with usually smells like some other gross cologne. It usually makes me feel like I should sneeze.

The man with my owner is a panther hybrids. He’s handsome, though in a less conventional way than the stereotypical pretty boy. The man appraises my small form, scantily clad in the outfit the maid put me in when she gave me my bath. I can’t read the look in his eyes, but the duffle bag in his hand sends my heart racing.

“I’ll leave you to your fun,” My owner makes his way back up the small ladder, closing the trap door and leaving us with no light but the bare single bulb. For a few moments, the Panther hybrids just studies me. He steps toward me and I shrink back, drawing my knees up to my chest.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” His voice is soft. Whether that is to put me at ease or because he’s scared we’ll be overheard, I’m not sure. He holds up a piece of paper. Written on it is ‘Can he hear us?’. I shake my head.

“Sound proof. He advertises not having cameras or microphones as a perk,” My voice cracks. He gives me a quick nod before rifling through his bag. He pulls out a walkie-talkie.

“I’m in,” His tone is clipped.

“Status?” A voice crackles over the speaker.

“One female munchkin hybrid. There’s a trap door under the carpet in the dining room. Close to the entrance. No guards in the room,” His words come out fast. This becomes more confusing the longer it goes. It feels like a fever dream.

“The hybrid?” The voice sounds different this time. Maybe a different person?

“No visible major injuries? She’s alert and conscious. One chain securing her. Cheap but sturdy. Shouldn’t take me long,” He pulls a couple of familiar tools out of his bag. My teeth dig into my bottom lip.

“10-4. Update me when we can move,” He sets down the device, picking up one of the tools,” And Yoongi? Just be careful.”

“I’m going to move your leg into a better position so I can get the chain off. You’re getting out of here,” He adjusts my leg and is about to start when I shake my head.

“Key is taped to the door. In sight but out of reach,” His eyes widen at my words.

“Bastard,” He mutters as he reaches up and removes the key. He unlocks the shackle on my ankle. My leg feels foreign without the added weight. I stand but stumble when I try to walk. Under everything else, I catch a faint whiff of his scent. Black pepper and rose. It twines with his Alpha’s scent. It nearly sends me into my Omega headspace.

“Hit it. Let’s get this asshole,” Yoongi throws the walkie-talkie back in his bag when he’s done and creates and creates a little distance between us. He hands me a t-shirt that is way too big. It fits me like a dress, going to my knees. He carefully positions me on his back, my legs and arms wrapped around him. My nose is pressed to his scent gland, relishing in his comforting scent.

“Don’t let go, no matter what. I’ve got you,” With the duffel bag, it must be difficult to carry me, but he doesn’t seem to be struggling.

The trap door opens, revealing a man with longish black hair and dark colored bunny ears. He reaches a hand down and helps Yoongi up. Tattoos wrap around his hand and disappear into his long sleeved t-shirt. He takes the duffel bag and glances around quickly.

“Van is outside the gate. I’ll guide you to the door. Stick close,” The bunny hybrid says.

“Bossy Brat,” Yoongi mutters. He follows the bunny hybrid to the front door. Then, almost like magic, we’re outside. Seven years of darkness leading to this moment of light.

He walks to the van and climbs in the back. The back of the van is mostly empty. The front seat is occupied by a Beta with a bright expression. I can’t help but tremble a little at the unfamiliar face.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” Yoongi gently lifts me from his back and settles me on a small pallet in the corner, near the seats. One of the blankets smells like him, and I quickly pull it around me. His scent soothes my nerves,” I’ll be back, Little One. Hobi, keep her safe for me.”

“Always. Go make sure Jiminie gets out safe,” As the person moves to the back of the van, I recognize him as another hybrid. He’s a golden retriever.

Yoongi leaves the van and I can barely suppress the whine that builds in me. I huddle in the little blanket, trying to stay out of Omegaspace. The Beta moves closer and I can’t stop myself from flinching. His scent makes its’ way to me. Mint and sunflowers. It’s a calming smell.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle,” My name is Hoseok.”

“Okay,” I meant to say ‘I’m okay’ but it’s hard to fight the drop.

Some time passes in a comfortable silence. The opening of the back door causes me to jump. The figure stepping in make me cower. His brown bear ears and the scar on his right cheek give him away. He’s the boss’ second in command, a Beta. He heads straight for Hoseok, and my body is moving before I can’t stop myself. I firmly place myself between Hoseok and the Bear. I hiss, only partially aware of the slip.

His hand closes around my throat, my feet leaving the floor of the van. A growl leaves Hoseok. My hand closes around his wrist, but it makes me feel smaller. My feet kick out, trying to find purchase to relieve some of the pressure on my throat.

“The boss wants to see you. Be a good little bitch and scurry to your master,” I can barely comprehend his words, the loss of breath getting to me.

“Let her go,” The voice behind me is much darker and rougher than I expected.

“I wouldn’t move, if I were you. It would be so easy to crush her throat,” His grip tightens just a little and I can tell he isn’t paying attention to me.

I dig my nails into his hand, my other hand going to where his thumb rests on my throat. You can’t grasp without your thumb. I manage to get my fingers under it, pushing it back hard. I feel it dislocate. I hit the ground hard and roll. I’m moving entirely by instinct, my Omega in full control. The two Betas leap at me and I panic. I scramble to the front and wedge myself in the front passenger seat floor. Then the sound stops.

“On the floor,” This voice is unfamiliar. A growl echoes through the van. I peek up to see a pink haired cat hybrid wit ha gun pointed at the unnamed Beta. The gun moves, pressing to the back of his head,” I said; down.”

I’ve never seen a more angry Beta as he lays on his stomach. Although I can’t smell him from here, in all the confusion, this reaction tells me the pink haired boy is an Omega. The Beta is dragged out of the van by people I can’t see from here.

“Missed the boss but got a few of his lackeys. Maybe they’ll have some info,” This comes from the pink haired Omega, his high pitched voice very distinctive.

“Lets load this one up and then we can head back to base,” This voice is unfamiliar.

“What happened to his thumb?” Yoongi. I can feel my Omega being pulled to his voice, to the safety and Alpha brings. The only thing keeping her here is the unknown voices.

“Your little Omega in there. She’s in a full drop right now,” This one is Hoseok.

“Can you guys load him up without me? I’m gonna check on her?” It’s Yoongi again.

“We’ve got him. She’s in the front passenger floor,” Hoseok’s voice already sounds like it’s getting farther away. They door beside me opens and I flinch.

Yoongi looks down at me, concern softening his expression. I move without thinking, somehow unwedging myself and wrapping myself around him. My face buries in his neck. His hands hold me gently.

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere this time,” His cheek rubs on the top of my head, gently scenting me.

He somehow climbs into the passenger seat with me wrapped around him. We sit in silence for a bit. HIs calm presence and gentle scenting do a lot to clear my haze. Coming out of a drop always leaves me feeling exhausted and scrambled.

“Did you really dislocate his thumb?” There’s a chuckle hiding in his voice. I nod my head.

“He had his hand around my throat,” A soft growl leaves Yoongi at my words,” You can’t grip without your thumb. Dislocation was just a side effect. It wasn’t intentional.”

“A little badass, huh?” He muses, leaning me back some so he can examine my throat. It’s probably already bruising.

“I’m not that young,” I huff, crossing my arms,” I’m 27. I’m just short.”

“You’re the same age as Jimin and Tae. Still younger than me, though,” His tone is teasing. I roll my eyes,” What is this on the back of your shoulder?”

It’s like a shock of cold water. Memories bombarded me. Tears, blood, the smell of burning flesh. My hands begin to shake and I have to shove back another drop.

“A brand. So everyone knows who I belong to,” My voice is smaller, and more emotional, than I would like. To my surprise, another growl leaves him and his face buries in my neck.

“He won’t touch you again. I’ll kill him,” His voice is muffled and rough,” Mine.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. Is he claiming me? Why me, of all people? His chest rumbles with a soft purr that melts my heart as his warm breath caresses my neck. He can’t mean it. I was born alone. The driver’s side door opening interrupts my thoughts.

“Jungkookie and Jiminie are taking the ones we caught and dropping them off. Namjoon is meeting them there,” Hoseok climbs into the driver’s seat,” Lets get home, shall we?”

The look he gives me is warm and kind. I smile back hesitantly. I rest my head on Yoongi’s shoulder, listening to the two of them talk. At some point, I started dozing off, exhaustion weighing too heavy on my sleepy mind. I’m not fully asleep, but I’m not awake either. There’s a faint ringing and Yoongi shifts some.

“Hello?” Yoongi’s voice is a soft whisper against my hair.

“Where is the girl?” This voice is unfamiliar.

“I have her,” Yoongi’s answer is clipped.

“Yoongi,” The man’s voice is exasperated,” We don’t know if she’s safe.”

“I’m not letting her go there, Namjoon,” Yoongi tenses.

“We don’t know-“ Yoongi cuts him off.

“Nobody consents to living like that. You haven’t seen her. She’s so frightened,” His fingers dance up and down my back absentmindedly.

“I know you’ve grown attached but we still-“ Once again, Yoongi interrupts him.

“They branded her!” I can smell his anger and I whine, nuzzling into his neck. He lets out a breath.

“Just… bring her here. I just want to talk to her first,” The call ends and Yoongi makes a frustrated sound.

“It’s okay, hyung. He’ll know. I feel it too,” Hoseok says gently.

“If he doesn’t, I”m staying with her,” His lips press to my forehead. We drive for a while longer but then I can feel Yoongi nudging me awake.

“C’mon. There’s someone I want you to meet,” He helps me out of the van and his hand engulfs mine. I squeeze it softly, trying to quell my nerves.

I follow him through the building. We end up in an office, sitting on a couch across from a tall Alpha with light brown hair and gray wolf ears. I sit gingerly, playing with the hem of my t-shirt. His scent washes over me, pine and fire. A warm and exciting at the same time.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Namjoon,” When he smiles, I see dimples wink at me from his cheeks.

“I just have a few questions to ask you,” He crosses his long legs and leans back in his chair,” How long were you held there?”

“Seven years,” I don’t miss a beat. I kept count. It helped me hold onto my scrap of sanity,” I was twenty when he bought me.”

“Bought you?” He presses.

“I’m a munchkin hybrid. They’re often passed between rich households. The last count came in at less than a hundred, nationally. Even fewer are female. It’s why I’m so small, despite my age,” My hands hover uselessly. I would normally play with my tail to keep me calm, but that’s not possible right now,” I moved homes super often. Plus, the boss would visit on our anniversary.”

“You don’t have to answer this, but what was your job?” He phrases the question carefully.

“To satisfy whatever urges his crew or potential new clients,” I can’t stop my voice from shaking.

“Did you choose this job?” His question nearly sends me into anger.

“Who chooses that job? I was tortured and raped. I can’t even-“ I stop myself. Yoongi’s hand lands on my knee, squeezing comfortingly.

“You can’t what?” It’s Yoongi this time, his voice hesitant.

“Use my tail,” My voice is small and broken. I didn’t want to talk about it.

“W-what do you mean?” Even Namjoon seems stumped by that one.

“Not long after I got there, less than a year, I tried to escape. It’s why they started chaining me. It part of my punishment. It’s best I just show you,” A sob nearly chokes me. I stand robotically and turn, lifting the shirt enough to show my tail. It’s a broken, twisted mess. It’s basically shaped like a bow, zip ties used to hold it in place until it healed that way. I feel numb as I lower the shirt.

“You’re safe here,” Namjoon’s voice calming, like his scent,” Yoongi, you should take her to see Jin. She needs medical care to make sure there are no other issues.”

“Namj-“ The door behind me opens and I turn to see the black haired rabbit,” Sorry, didn’t know they were here.”

Now that we’re here, away from the mansion, I can catch his scent. It reminds me of a salty ocean breeze. The shock comes at realizing he’s a Beta. Rabbits are almost exclusively Omegas.

“We didn’t get a chance to meet earlier,” The rabbit offers me a smile, little bunny teeth on display,” I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” I find it hard to meet his eyes. I’ve been too well trained, I guess.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” Yoongi hops to his feet and reaches for my hand,” Lets go see the doc.”

This time, we end up in a normal looking car. While he drives, Yoongi fiddles with the radio, looking for something he wants to listen to. Once it stops on a station, he offers me his hand. I take it quickly, his touch bringing comfort. I play with his fingers, trying to quell my nerves about meeting another unknown person. When he parks the car, I can feel anxiety rearing its’ ugly head.

“Hey,” His voice is soft,” I’ll stay with you, if that’s what you want. I won’t leave you.”

“Why-“ My voice breaks,” Why me?”

“Hmm?” His ear flicks, obviously confused.

“You’ve comforted me so much, but I don’t deserve that,” My lower lip trembles, despite my best attempts.

“Come here, Kitten,” He unlatches our seat belts and pulls me on to his side of the car. He leans his seat back and suddenly, our noses almost touching. My breath catches as his dark eyes peer up at me.

“With everything going on, you may not have noticed. You,” He bumps my nose with his, his hands resting comfortably on my sides,” are my mate. Our mate.”

My eyes go wide, the scattered and missing pieces suddenly making sense. In my daze, my Omega took a little control and nuzzled into his neck, my nose lightly nudging his scent gland. He lets out a breath, his arms wrapping around me gently.

“I’ll always be here,” My head lulls to the side, a whimper leaving me, as he nuzzles my scent gland. His lips brush it gently, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

“We should probably go in,” My voice is breathless, broken up by soft purrs.

“Probably,” I curl up on his chest. One of his hands trails up and down my spine, causing a content purr to leave me.

The ringing of his phone rudely interrupts us. He sighs and fumbles a little, managing to get it from his pocket. He answers and presses it to his ear.

“What?” His tone is grumpy,” Okay, okay, we’re coming.”

We clamber out of the car, his hand, once again, reaching for mine. He pulls me along, leading me through the small clinic. His knuckles tap on the door in front of us. It opens quickly.

“Come on it,” Gray-black fox ears nestle on a mop of blonde hair. A floral scent, orange blossom and lilies, permeates from the Omega,” I’m Dr. Kim Seokjin. Mates know me as Jin.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” I peek up at his face for a few seconds, but I quickly feel awkward.

“Lets look you over and make sure you’re okay, hmm?” Jin’s voice is cheery.

The exam feels like it takes forever and parts of me fill with fear. Yoongi stays the whole time, holding my hand or petting my hair. When he gets to my tail, I can hear him gasp.

“That’s horrible,” His voice is broken,” So, for your tail, I’ll have to straighten it out. I can give you some meds and do it now. It should be healed by morning.”

I take the offered meds, which hit fast due to my hybrid metabolism. The next twenty minutes are grueling. I can feel him working, feel the bones breaking and readjusting.

“How are you feeling?” Jin asks when he’s done.

“Sleepy,” I answer honestly, struggling to stifle a yawn.

“You did so good, Kitten,” Yoongi’s voice is soft as his eyes meet mine,” Lets go home.”

He lifts me gently. I can hear them speaking but I can’t interpret their words, my brain too exhausted. The gentle motion of his walking lulls me to sleep, my head resting on his shoulder.

[justanotherarmyfangirl]

Dark&Wild (3) The Second Day

You are an interpreter for international idols, but you soon realized their lavish lifestyle came at a cost, and somehow you became the price. The man who came to collect had a special kind of vendetta, and you, so foolishly, sparked his interest.

Here ya go! So much has happened to y/n and it's only the second day oh no T_T

yandere loan shark!Yoongi x blind!reader x bodyguard!Jungkook x idol singer!Jimin x idol rapper!Namjoon x idol singer!Taehyung x detective!Hoseok x detective!Seokjin

TW: 18+ only, violence, guns, hostage, dubcon/noncon touching, reader manipulation, reader is blinded before events that take place in the story, Jimin is an addict, Yoongi is a sadist

---

Surely, they would have called the police by now, you think. 

Your body jostles back and forth as the car drives through a bumpy road. Your shoulder knocks into an arm as you sit sandwiched between two of Yoongi’s men. You keep your hands still on your knees, another right turn, you note as your body is swung to the side and then the road evens out and the car accelerates.

You stay alert, hoping for sirens, wishing for a flat tire, praying for someone to save you... 

“Nothing to say now?” That deep voice asks you, a sharp mocking tone that boils the fear you felt down into white hot anger.

You keep your mouth defiantly shut. The car has to be going at least 100 kmh. How long has it been since you left the hotel? People must be looking for you.

The hotel...

Don’t think of Namjoon, don’t cry. Don’t think of the growing distance between you and them as you move further and further away, being taken from everything you know. Have hope, y/n! Don’t show how afraid you are. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

You have a splitting headache, going on zero sleep and dwindling adrenaline. The car moves at a steady pace, switching lanes. You feel movement in front of your face and you flinch back.

“You can see that?”

“No, idiot. I felt the air moving in front of me-”

A slap silences you again. You feel like crying out of anger now, more than from the sting on your cheek or the fear in your bones. How can this be happening to you? How can they get away with this? 

‘The police will come,’ you think, ‘God, let the police come.’

THE SECOND DAY

Yoongi was a man who planned. He had planned on killing the idol singer, knowing Jimin would not have enough funds to pay him. He had planned a fast exit out of the country. He even had planned for a few hiccups along the way, paying off hotel staff and a few patrol. But he had not planned on you.

“No! Stop!” you shriek, “Help! Help!” You scream as your body is yanked out of the car. 

“Tie her up, Jeon,” Yoongi tells his right-hand-man, Jungkook. Strong hands wrap around your torso as plastic tightens around your wrists. A hand covers your mouth, stifling your scream and a soft voice tells you to be quiet or else. You weren’t scared of what ‘else,’ too terrified of what was currently happening, this was your life you were fighting for, you kick and thrash like a wild cat, but the hard metallic handle of a gun came down swiftly against your skull and the small muted patterns of light left in your vision all turned to black.

---

Soft. Cold. Quiet.

The sheets were soft under you, at least 800 thread count. The room was cold. You had traveled and lived in enough hotel rooms to feel the familiarity of this kind of dry cold. It was quiet, were you alone? Where were you now? Your hands were still zip tied in front of you.

You lifted your hands to your teeth. The plastic was thick, you definitely could not chew through it. A cough interrupts your thoughts as someone clears their throat.

“Where am I?” Your voice came out hoarse and you realized how thirsty you were. How long have you been asleep? Silence. “Answer me.” You find a steadiness in yourself to ask the stranger again.

“Does it matter? You’re with me.”

“And who are you?” you swallow. Who was this cold, distant, quiet man? His voice is so different from before, a deep slow drawl that was almost calming if you didn’t know better. Who was he? A gangster, a criminal…he was a man who clearly had a lot of followers. And how did Jimin get involved with him?

Speaking of the devil, “I’m surprised Jimin or Taehyung never told you about me.” Yoongi spoke in a biting sardonic tone. “But I guess they have to keep up appearances, right?” 

Yoongi stretched his legs and arms, cracking his knuckles. 

He sat in the corner of the room, he kept the lights off. He preferred a dark room, and it wasn’t like you could tell the difference. He leans over, studying you.

“Let me explain what will happen now. You work for me, you belong to me. The quicker you accept that, the better it will be for both of us.” He says, moving closer to you. 

“You’ve really landed yourself into a beautifully lucrative position. I run an international business, you se-” you grind your teeth at his quiet laughter when he backtracks. “I can speak English and some Japanese, but I’ve always hated speaking English. I have wanted a translator for some time now, but people these days, it’s so hard to trust them, I have to be careful with who I surround myself with, you know? But you, you’re perfect.”

You hear him even closer to you, he was probably standing over you now, you think. “My clients’ identities must remain secret, they can’t risk tarnishing their reputation much like our little friend Jimin. I won’t have to worry about bringing you with me, because, well, you can’t see them,” he laughs.

If your hands weren’t tied, you would have tried to punch him, but fortunately for you, you remained still, stuck in your bindings. “If you just do as I say, I’ll treat you much better than those three ever would...I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. So I won’t have to worry about you, will I?” he asks in a threatening tone, his voice mere millimeters away from you.

“And if I refuse?” you swallow.

“You will do as I say, eventually.” his finger runs along your jaw and you flinch away, but Yoongi makes sure you know you can’t get away from him, gripping your jaw so he has full view of your face and the affect he has on you. “If you don’t want to be my translator, I will just have to find other ways to use you.” His hand runs down your neck, over your breasts-

You yell and knock his hand away with your tied fists. Immediately your hands are pinned and his body weight is over your torso, so crushing and imposing, a testament to how little patience he has for you anymore. “You can’t see, now you can’t move.” His other hand is back on throat, putting pressure on your wind pipe. “And now you can’t breathe,” he laughs. “Stop fighting back an just accept your fate.”

You kick your legs in protest, letting out a muffled grunt as you try to scream.

Yoongi scoffs, letting go of your neck. “Are you stupid? Do you really think you can get away? You have no idea where you even are-”

“I’m in a hotel, right?” you grunt, “A nice one too. Maybe…close to the airport. Trying to leave the country? They’ll find you. Murderer!”

Yoongi laughs dryly. “Who would be looking for me? Ahh…” He shifts over you, weight annoyingly heavy against your lap.

Yoongi pulls out his cellphone, and sets it to speaker as it dials one of his contacts. You struggle against him as he covers your mouth tightly, fingers clamping over your face, nails digging into your cheeks.

“Hello?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice comes through the speaker.

Tae? You stop resisting, listening intently.

“Were you able to convince them?”

“For now,” Taehyung whispers. “Namjoon is going to tell the company. I…I don’t know what will happen after that, just leave, please.”

You hold your breath. Joon!

“I’m sure for your shareholders’ sake they will make sure things are dealt with quietly, you’ll remind them, won’t you, of the videos I can release if they go to the police?” Yoongi had quite the treasure trove of illicit activities the two singers liked to engage in at his establishments.

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung stutters, hanging up quickly.

The call ends as Yoongi slowly lifts his hand away. “Well? Tell me y/n,” he uses his thumb to wipe away a falling tear. “Who is going to be looking for me...or you?”

The conversation left you reeling. The relief of knowing Namjoon was alive coupled with the devastation of knowing Taehyung was helping this man made you feel sick. Taehyung didn’t even ask if you were okay…

“Do you ‘see’ now?” He emphasizes how helpless your situation is by putting all his weight on his arm, sinking your restrained hands into the bed, his thighs squeezing tightly to your sides. “Can I untie you or are you going to continue to be difficult?”

You hate him. You hate what he’s done, what he’s taken from you. He had ruined not just your life now, but your life before too, the years of friendship you had with the idol felt tainted, and you hate how it makes you feel. “Untie me. Untie me, so I can fucking kill you. Bastard!” you spit, fighting against his hold.

You can’t see the way Yoongi smiles, eyes gleaming down at your restrained body. You are fucking stupid, he thinks, but it’s been so long since Yoongi has had a nice challenge, and such a pretty one too, such a wild one.

“Kill me?” he laughs, leaning down so his body weight lays over your whole frame, burying his head into your shoulder, lips pressed to the column of your neck.

Yes, ‘I’ll kill him,’ you think. You’re going to find a way to kill him and escape, you swear it to yourself.

“If you’re going to threaten me like that,” he inhales deep, teeth raking over your sensitive skin as he speaks, “I guess I’ll have to go visit Jimin, tell him the arrangement isn’t working out…” 

He sighs, resting over you, body weight hot and heavy...suffocating. It’s becoming harder to stay strong in your helpless situation. Why…Why…WHY!? You can only think. Why do you have to endure so much pain in your life? You breathe through your nose, holding back tears, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. 

Yoongi listens to your escalating heartbeat, your short breathes. You’re not very argumentative now, he smirks, grasping what really disarms you.

“And then kill him…” he grunts against your throat. “Because unlike you, I can follow through on my threats.” He moves down your body, pulling at your shirt, lips violating your exposed skin, licking, teasing. You clench your jaw, struggling against him, but gravity is against you and he’s strong and heavy.

He gropes your chest with his free hand, pulling your nipple between his thumb and finger and twisting, harshly kneading your breast.

You bite your tongue at his slow unnerving ministrations until you have no choice but to tell him-

“Stop,” you grit out.

Yoongi rests his chin on your breastbone. “You will be a good girl and behave, won’t you?”

Die. You nod your head quickly, mouth tightly shut.

You feel thin steel slip between your wrists and a pull as Yoongi’s knife cuts your restraints. The bed creaks as his weight leaves you, and the coil inside your chest releases, the twisting in your stomach stops so you can catch your breath. “I’ll get someone to bring you some food.” His voice is cold and distant.

Only when you hear the door click close do you turn on your side and cry.

---

You stumble to the ground, searching with your hands for a tool to use against that man. There is no phone on your bedside table. Only one bed. A window that won’t open.

You run your hand over the desk and dresser. Sugar and coffee packets? A paper cup. Coffee maker, you debate on taking the pot, deciding to keep it there. Papers, some laminated, probably a room service menu. No pen? Where could it be? 

You find the bathroom. Turn on the water, drink from the tap quickly, so thirsty after crying all day. A small bathroom with a tub, your hands rest on the porcelain. You wanted a shower, but you needed to find a way to escape! The sink’s stopper.

You yank on the release lever hard and fast. If you can pull it out, at least you’ll have a weapon, something to defend yourself if that man dares to try to put his hands on you again. You yank and yank, hoping to pull the small rod out.

A knock. Followed by a twist of the handle. You hold your breath.

You give up for now, quickly turning off the water, keeping your back to the wall as you leave the bathroom. The door opens and closes again. You stay quiet, waiting for your new company’s move first.

Strong hands wrap around your wrists and a bag of food is placed in your grasp.

So it’s morning, you realize as you dig inside the bag and your fingers roll over a small egg sandwich. 

“Here’s a water bottle,” he puts the cold plastic bottle against your stomach until you take it as well.

“Who are you?” you ask the softer voice, “Who is that man you are working for?”

“Eat.”

“No.” You throw the bag on the ground along with the bottle and cross your arms.

Jungkook sighs. “If you don’t eat it Mr. Min will just force you, and I would assume you don’t want that to happen.” He picks up the food and puts the bag back in your hands. “Eat. We’re going to leave soon.”

“Where?”

“Back to Korea.”

“Seriously? Where? Seoul?” 

“I can’t tell you that. Just eat.”

“You’re okay with this? Kidnapping me? For some stupid debt?!” you yell. 

The voice stays silent. This man sounded at least reasonable and not a huge vindictive ass like, ‘Mr. Min.’”

“You were the one who chose-”

“He was going to murder my friend, you really think I had an actual choice?”

“Well it's done now, so eat.”

Eat, how are you supposed to eat?! You’re a prisoner, a pawn in some sadistic man's game.

You fall to your knees, limbs shaking. Your hands search over the carpet until you find the man’s pants leg, gripping the ends as you plead with him, “Please let me go, please!” You cry, refusing to let go of Jungkook’s legs. “I have money…saved…I could give you for your help...please.” The money you had saved for years for your eye surgery, were you willing to give it to this man for your freedom?

His only response was to eat before the food becomes cold. “-and don’t offer anyone money again, they will take it from you and beat you for trying to escape.” Jungkook says solemly, dropping the bag back into your lap and leaves you to cry again.

-

Jungkook came back again once preparations to leave were ready. He found you in the same spot with dried tears on your face. He grabs the crumpled bag from the floor and looks inside. Good, he thinks, you ate.

“Who is it?” you whisper.

“It’s me, call me Jeon.”

“Please, don’t do this, Jeon,” you whimper. He pulls at your shoulders to help you stand. “Wait! Let me talk to Mr. Min, please!” You make yourself heavy so Jungkook can’t move you.

You hide your hand behind your back, gripping the tiny metal rod tight in your hand, thumb against the stopper's top.

“He’s busy, come with me.”

“N-No.”

Jungkook sighs, grabbing your elbow. You struggle in his hold, digging your heels into the carpet. You have to make a choice, here or once you leave the room, what’s the right choice?!

He lets out an exasperated grunt and his body twists away from you. Is he reaching for what you suspect? Is this the last chance you’ll have?!

Time is precious, it ticks away, leaving you with another regretful moment, another chance to escape gone.

His chest, his neck, those are the places you should aim for. Or maybe his leg? His arm? A place to shock him enough so you might grab his weapon. What should you do?! Time is ticking!

“Shit!” You pierced Jungkook’s shoulder with the metal rod, pulling it out quickly and drawing your hand back again to stab him again. Jungkook is quicker, he is used to pain, used to people trying to kill him, he holds your wrist twisting it. You grip his gun in your other hand, yanking it as your bodies fall. 

Jungkook grunts, laughing, holding his torso up with his arms. “You’re…going to get yourself killed.”

Blood drips from Jungkook’s shoulder onto your cheek. “A dead translator doesn’t sound like much of a good deal,” you cry, wrists held down by Jungkook, gun pointed to the wall instead of where you wanted.

“If you don’t stop, he’s going to make you wish you were dead.”

“I already do!”

Jungkook laughs, “No, you don’t, y/n…” Jungkook whispers your last name, then says your address back in Seoul, and then, as his blood steadily drips onto your face, he shocks you by reciting your old family address and your parents’ names, your siblings’ names.

How...how?

D-Did Taehyung...d-did he...

He grabs the pistol out of your limp hand, and the bloodied rod as well. Standing up, he throws a small booklet onto your frozen body. Your passport.

Jungkook felt bad for you, it was hard not to. You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into. “Get up.”

---

Jungkook was gone, Yoongi was gone. You were being yanked by some other stranger into an elevator, into an echoing garage, into another foreign vehicle. You followed silently, too afraid to speak, scared of what you would sound like, unable to mask your fear and loneliness. When you stepped onto pavement, pulled along until your hand was placed on a railing, you walked slowly hoping to buy time, registering your surroundings.

There was a loud booming noise around you, the steel railing heated by the sun. How is this possible? How did that man manage to get a plane, bypass airport lines and security? ‘Mr. Min,’ has his own plane? Was there really no way out of this maze of horror? You were about to be trapped in the air with these criminals, out of the country of their crimes, leaving any hope for justice behind.

You can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it.

You stop halfway up the stairs. Hands push you to advance, harsh words behind you telling you to move. You grip the railings, crouching down. You’re hit, so you cover the back of your head, lying across the stairs until hands wrap around your torso lifting you up. “NO. NO!”

Where are the flight attendants, the captain? Can’t they see something is wrong! 

You’re dropped inside the cabin and this time they were ready, placing a handkerchief over your mouth, the rancid smell knocking you out before you can scream again.

-

Another bed, another place. The steady hum of the cabin and the small stiff mattress reminds you of where you were. There was no escape here. Your arm knocks into soft suit jacket fabric. “Who are you?” you whisper, hoping it was neither Mr. Min or Jeon.

Yoongi crosses his arms, looking over to Jungkook, who keeps a keen eye on the pair of you. You tried to escape, Yoongi knew you would try, he didn’t expect you would stab one of his men in the process. Perhaps he should have expected it, he thinks, you continue to prove to him you’re a fighter. He catalogs your latest rebellion, adding it to the tally of things he has learned about you.

You, like him, are resourceful and quick thinking. He might even rescind his first judgement and call you clever, if you weren’t so reckless.

Your TV appearances he had watched showed you were a skilled interpreter, video footage of you walking alongside the idols from public appearance to public appearance revealed to him your quiet strength around others.

Now, your hospital records painted a different picture of you. Yoongi knew all about you now. So when he looked down at you, noticing the anger creasing your brow, the defensiveness shoot up all around you, he understood why, and for him, the why provided a way to finally break you.

“What would you say would be a fair price to pay for hurting one of my men?”

He adds in your silence, “C’mon, I’m giving you an option to negotiate, since this is your first time.”

You swallow, sitting up, moving as far away from his as you can. “What would you think is fair?” you spit out.

You feel a finger poke your shoulder. “I would say an eye for an eye, but…”

You dig your nails into your palms. “So funny,” you say dryly.

“What’s funny was that spectacle on the tarmac. You still think you can just run away from this? It’s childish, it’s stupid, and embarrassing-”

“What do you want from me?!”

“I already explained that to you, a little cooperation would be a nice start.”

“You’re insane,” you spit out.

“How about this, you prove to me you’ll cooperate, and I’ll make sure…Jae? Jayce? Jake? What’s his name? I’ll make sure your ex husband pays for what he did to you.”

“...Stop.”

“What? He’s out of prison, did you know?”

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“Don’t tell me to shut up.”

“Stop then.”

“Don’t you want revenge?”

How did he learn so much about you? You feel exposed, vulnerable, wounded. How does he know about your ex, how does he know him?! You parents, your address, what else does he know!

“S-Stop.”

Yoongi licks his lips, turning to his guard. “Jeon, how’s the arm?”

Jungkook stands up. “It’s fine, it wasn’t that deep.” You turn your head towards Jungkook. Yoongi doesn’t like the way your face lights up hopeful. He drapes his arm over your shoulder, knuckles knocking into your cheek to get your attention.

“Did you plan that for me? Were you hoping it was me instead?” he whispers tauntingly in your ear. “You’re lucky it wasn’t,” he says, a warning tone laced through his taunts. He interlaces your fingers with his free hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, running each finger over his mouth and then holds out your hand towards his guard. “Apologize to him.”

Jungkook takes your hand, helping you out of the bed. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move after he’s helped you. You stand in front of each other awkwardly. You’re sure Min loves the tension you’re experiencing. Your hands reach for Jeon’s shoulders, running along his arm until your find the place you stabbed him, He is wearing a thick jacket, new without a hole, covering his bandages. You wonder how he’s feeling over this entire situation. Does he agree with Mr. Min, does he think you deserve to be stabbed too. If only he would say something, do something. Because you can’t see his expression, apart from his stiffness you have no idea how he’s reacting. So you move your hands to hold his face, fingers lightly touching the corner of his lips, running over his forehead. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re forgiven,” he says in a monotone voice, masking any emotion, but your hands held his cheeks, felt the tight clenching of his jaw and the frown pulling at his lips, you tried to understand him without the words to ask him, you really tried, but you didn’t know whether his detachment was a response to you or Yoongi or if this was just who Jeon was.

“Leave us.” Jungkook moved away, his warmth leaving the tips of your fingers. “Come here, y/n.” You did not want to turn around, you did not want to be near him or alone with him. You clenched your fists by your sides.

You reached in front of you, hands hitting a curtain sheet. You must be in a small luxurious private jet, this man had wealth. You reluctantly move backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed as you cautiously you sit down. 

“Lie down.”

“I would rather sit,” you swallow.

“I said lie down.”

You want to scream. Instead you slowly lower yourself down, hands clasped on your stomach. You felt like a cadaver being offered up to Yoongi’s scrutinizing gaze. He reaches for your closest arm, pulling the hand to his lips. He places the palm against his lower jaw, you feel it move as he speaks. “Does it help you to remember if you touch someone’s face?”

“No,” you pause. “It’s been a long time since I was blinded, I don’t remember faces clearly anymore.” You run your finger across his high cheekbone and over his nose. “I can’t really picture your face doing this, it’s not a thing blind people do I just wanted to-” you run your fingers over Yoongi’s eyelids, tempted to gouge out his eyes, “-see if he really accepted my apology,” you lie.

“When you’re with me and I can’t speak to you, we need a way for you to know who I am.”

You sigh, trying to pull your arm out of his grasp, but Yoongi won’t let go. “Tap my hand in a pattern?” Yoongi taps you with his middle finger twice, then his pointer finger, then his middle finger and pointer finger again. 

“Like that?”

“Sure.”

“It’s Yun in morse code. Do you know morse code?”

“When I was a child, it’s been so long. Why Yun?”

“I’ll teach it to you. For my first name, Yoongi.”

You nod, biting your tongue. His name is Min Yoongi. The man you’re going to kill if it's the last thing you do.

Yoongi lets your hand fall down, placing it palm up above your head. He taps a series of letters into your palm.

“S K? South Korea?”

“No, S T A-” he taps again.

“-Y. Stay.” You frown. It was a command, like you were a dog. “How much longer until we land in Seoul?”

“Who says we are going to Seoul?” he says mocking, “We are making a stop before then.”

“What? Where?!”

“How is your Thai?”

You frown, “Conversational.”

“Good,” He murmurs, “if you impress me, I’ll make sure all your things from your home are collected, but if you try anything and ruin this deal for me, you will regret it.”

You tap on his hand.

“Still making threats?”

You yank your hand away after tapping die, turning your back to him, hugging your legs close to your body. Yoongi did not react, he probably found you unthreatening and pathetic now, you think bitterly.

God, you’re going to find a way to escape. Namjoon is alive, he will do the right thing, you know he will.

---

Turbulence roused you from your pretend sleep. The curtains click open and shut.

“I brought you clothes to change into.” You feel the fabric Yoongi places in your lap, reaching over to touch Yoongi’s sleeve, feeling the same material. “Need help?”

“I’m not a child!” you snap. “I can change into my own clothes. I’ve been doing it all my life,” you huff, standing up. You hear Yoongi let out an irritated scoff. “Can I have some privacy?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Yoongi jeers, waiting for you. You can feel his eyes on you and it makes your skin crawl. 

“I’m not going to change in front of you.”

“Yes, you are. It’s your own fault I can’t trust you alone, so hurry up. It can just be me, or I can open the curtain and it can be everyone,” he says lowly.

You exhale. Just endure, get off this plane, get away from him. And find a way to escape. You inspect each article of clothing with your fingers. A blazer and pants, a button up. You touch delicate lace, run your hands over underwire. He can’t possibly be serious.

Just pretend he’s not there. But Yoongi is, with all his attention on you, you hear the bed dip as he takes a seat and you feel sick.

“Don’t look at me.”

“I’m not.”

This fucker is lying to you, you can hear it in his cheeky tone. 

Calm down and just get it over with, y/n. You’ve had stylists help you with your clothes before. Backstage at shows showing skin is commonplace. Just think of this as a job (for an employer you’re being forced to work for). You hate him.

You turn your back to where you suspect he’s sitting, pulling your shirt over your head. You bend to the side to search for the offending garment of clothing, and it just so happens to hover right into your hand. You yank the bra out of Yoongi’s grip, trying to calm your breathing.

“I can do it myself,” you hiss, undoing the strap of your bra.

“I know,” he says cockily, gruffer that before. Just do it quickly, y/n. Don’t let this bastard have a free show of you. 

You quickly switch into the clean bra. “It’s red.” 

‘I didn’t fucking ask,’ you think. He’s obviously taking immense joy in your discomfort.

You pull on the new shirt, buttoning it close in record time. Then you take another deep calming breath, unfastening your pants. You turn back around to face him, trying to minimize showing any part of you as you bend down. Yoongi doesn’t help you find the rest of the lingerie set, and part of you suspects he moved the lacy underwear just to fuck with you as your hand roams over what’s left of the clothes until you find it.

You cover yourself quickly, trying to balance yourself as you put a leg through the slacks as the plane sways. 

Turbulence kicks up at the most horrible moment, making you fall forward. You brace yourself against Yoongi’s chest, your legs tangled in the slacks. He steadies you, hands on your exposed hips, way too low, acting too comfortable holding your body.

You try to push away as the cabin shakes, the plane dipping low suddenly. You fall onto him, straddling his knee, the intimate position stirring something unpleasant inside of you, tightening your already tense body in places you don’t want to think about as his thigh jumps up into you.

Yoongi watches you struggle against him. “Here,” He places your hands on the top of his shoulders as he pulls your pants up the rest of the way. He doesn’t zip them up, instead he grabs your belt, looping it through your pants, he reaches behind you and tucks the end of your shirt under your pants, taking an opportunity to grip your ass each time he reaches under. Until he’s at your front, placing his hand in between your legs briefly, finger running over your center, confirming what he sees in your stuttered breathing, head bowed low as you try to hide away from him. He pulls on your pants when he buttons them, bringing you even closer, tightening your belt with another jerk that has you jostling against his body.

You wanted to press your legs together to stop what ever feeling his touches had started within you. You hate him, why couldn’t your body act the same way? 

Yoongi repositions your collar over your jacket, buttoning the rest of your shirt to hide away your cleavage. “All done.” He breathes, hands still holding your sides firmly instead of pulling away, thumbs pressing into your skin, moving under the curve of your breast. You take a shuddering inhale, exposing another moment of weakness to him again. The cabin shakes and the seatbelt warning dings over and over again as Yoongi drags his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Sir-”

“What!” He snaps at one of his men checking in on him. To his subordinate it looked like you had Yoongi wrapped in some act of seduction as he looked up at you reverently, but it was Yoongi who had you obedient with only a few calculated gestures.

“They advised us to take our seats and buckle up,” he says, looking away. You move, stumbling backward, reminding yourself where you were. Who you were surrounded by, who the monster Mr. Min was.

“Take a seat and behave yourself,” he says, standing up. You felt shaky, unstable in more ways than one. You don’t retort back. The skin on your bottom lip tingles and you can’t decide if you want to rip the skin off.

---

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[heartbeatan]

Grave - Book 2: Ribbon & Rope (Chapter 1)

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Chapter 1

The warmth hit you like a tidal wave as you left the rainy night behind and crossed the threshold into the diner. The change in temperature instantly made you feel humid and sticky underneath your leather jacket. You peeled off your coat, only slightly worried that you might be revealing unflattering pit stains or back sweat - given that you had hustled through the rain to get here.

You scanned the room, looking for the familiar face you were here to meet, searching for it hidden somewhere in the booths and, to your awe, you didn’t see him. There was no way he was late, because he was always on time, and you were always twenty-minutes behind.

You shook out your coat and did your best to fluff your hair with your free hand in hopes it would smooth back into whatever mess it was before the elements had influenced it. You looked over the room a second time.

There he was! Or at least the back of his head. But it was him for sure. You could recognize his long, black, thick hair which he never changed, the peak of his back tattoo just below his neck, and his broad shoulders hidden but present under his white shirt. The way he hunched slightly over the table was recognizable too. You were positive he was sketching in his book, the way he usually was, while his free hand played idly with a string of twine in some impressive version of one-handed cats cradle.

You watched for a moment, his long, slender fingers twirling and lacing between the string, dexterous and with purpose as they built a web then just as quickly dismantled it before starting again. Even though you had seen him do this same menial trick time and time again, you couldn’t tear your eyes from it. Not today. Today, it was like a spell, hypnotizing you. It was like the more you watched, the more you were sure you could feel those fingers on you, his hand moving across you and through you as if you were the piece of string.

“Bar or booth?” the words shook you from your trance. You looked up to find yourself staring at a waitress. She was around your age. Pretty, but an unfriendly look behind her eyes. Perhaps she was only tired from a long shift.

I would be too, you thought to yourself. Dealing with hungry people for hours, running around on your feet in a ridiculous dress like that… you would face off in a battle to the death with a demon any day, rather than walk one in her shoes.

Your thoughts trailed off as you came to focus on her dress. It was ridiculous. Mustard yellow, trimmed with pilon orange, reminiscent of a 50s theme except without the impudence to commit to it. But, damn, even though Lucifer had cursed the earth with polyester fabric, it wasn’t enough to protect you from the curve of this woman’s hips, the cleavage of her breasts, and the smooth shine of her long, tapered legs. You bit your lip as a vision clouded your mind: you and her, behind this diner; her sandwiched between your body and the wet brick of the building as you kneaded her breast roughly with your palm; her enthusiastically digging at your jeans tight and sticky against your skin in the wet rain.

For a longer-than-needed moment you looked at her as the vision came and left, and as the blood from your groin rushed and calmed. But somewhere in the moment you had taken, her aura shifted - from one of impatience, to one of… intrigue? Would she? Right now? If you only asked?

“I’m meeting someone,” you cut off your own thoughts before you began to actually believe them. If you ever endeavored on your first girl-on-girl encounter, you would at least like it to be when neither of you were being influenced by the absurd thing swirling inside you. “I think he’s over there,” you nodded in the direction of Yoongi. She looked a little disappointed. You were kinda disappointed too, but with a small smile and a thank-you nod, you clomped your way down the aisle in his direction. By the time you reached the booth, you were relieved to also feel this episode's strangling wave of lust fade away.

Thank-God, you thought.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said as you plopped down in the seat across from him.

“No, you’re not,” he responded indifferently, not even bothering to look up from his sketchbook.

Another waitress came by - another one you didn’t recognize - the diner must’ve done a big hire recently. She had a menu in hand and a jug of water in the other.

“I don’t need a menu, thanks,” you smiled at her. “I’m going to get the blueberry pancakes and a beer, please.”

“Sure thing,” she smiled then turned to Yoongi. “And you, sir?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

“Oh, come on,” you prompted him.

“I don’t want anything.”

You looked at the waitress and rolled your eyes so obviously that the Hubble could have seen it. She twisted her lips to avoid laughing out loud.

“Can you just super-size my order then, cuz he’s gonna start eating mine as soon as it gets here.”

“Sure thing,” she winked.

She filled your water glass, and you watched her walk away, taking notice of how the strings of her apron had become twisted into a knot that she would probably need to cut out. You looked back to Yoongi, still sketching while he fiddled with his twine, and shook your head. You left him at peace while you took a moment to try and dry yourself off a little more before the waitress returned with your beer and you lost all care about your appearance.

When she placed the bottle in front of you, you thanked her like you were thanking God for delivering your soul to Heaven, and took several heaving gulps like you hadn’t had a drop of water for a week.

“Ahhh, that’s fucking good,” you breathed, checking out the label. “I needed that.”

“You wrapped another one up, I take it?” Yoongi asked, this time discarding the twine he had been playing with, which meant he had given you one more morsel of attention.

“Yeah… it was crazy. This guy met a Kelpie when he was abroad, basically promised her the stars to get in her pants, then jilted her. It literally swam here to find him. It crossed oceans. Then terrorized him for months.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?”

“I mean, she drowned like a dozen people who were all his friends and family. That seems a bit extreme.”

Yoongi finally looked up from his sketchbook to meet your gaze for the first time since you sat down.

“To you, it’s extreme, Y/N. In their reality, it’s a pretty measured response.”

“Yeah, well…in this reality," you drew a circle in the air with your finger, "it’s against the law, which is why I was called in.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as he returned them to his book. “Your species just do not take love seriously, that’s why you’ll never understand.”

“You lot,” you pointed at him in protest, “take it too seriously. Like, honestly, what is the deal with you Helios? It’s like every relationship you have is life or death.”

He shrugged, but you knew his answer on the subject anyway - you had had this debate before. And to a degree, you understood him. The creatures of the hidden world experienced everything a human did, only ten-fold. Sometimes emotions were so powerful they had dire consequences. And they were older, so much older than mankind. And they had access to other planes of existence. Surely their ways weren’t as irrational and erratic as they may first seem, there was logic, even though that logic often escaped you.

“Speaking of life and death and Helio relationships,” you began, changing the subject. “You know about all the mysterious deaths lately?”

Yoongi shot you a look that was meant to make you feel ridiculous. It was warranted, however. In your line of work mysterious deaths were as common as a morning coffee, and in his world, mysterious deaths were anything but mysterious. You needed to be more specific, and he apparently needed to keep sketching.

“The ones where all these dudes just like… suddenly lose all interest in their lives and become sorta despondent? And the Health Unit got involved thinking they had caught some sort of virus that attacks the brain. And they all end up dying in like a week later in like really stupid ways?”

Yoongi made a noise that could have been seen as nothing but him clearing his throat, but you knew him well enough now to know that he was now aware of what the hell you were talking about.

“Well…" you continued, "the thing is, the Health Unit was stumped because none of these guys had any connection to each other. There wasn’t like a place they all visited or anything. The only thing they had in common was that they were basically all very sexually active.”

“And how did you determine that?” he jeered.

“Doesn’t matter,” you waved your hands in the air. “The point is, I found out that they had all recently had a one night stand. And they all had one night stands with a hot woman they met at a bar.”

Yoongi snorted. You could tell he had something to say - probably about how people hooking up with people they met at a bar wasn’t evidence as much as it was common. But he knew not to stop you when you went on your rants. If you remembered correctly, he once called listening to you speak the equivalent of drowning under a waterfall.

“You don’t get it,” you responded to his non-verbal retort. “These women were all like super hot… like, super-super hot. I can’t remember all the adjectives their bros used to describe them, but like… the kind of hot that would make even you do a double take.”

He ignored your jab.

“Thing is, from their descriptions, I think all these guys went home with the same woman, just a different night. And it was the day after they went home with this woman they started acting all weird."

“Sounds like they got an STD.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp and awed, “Maybe a mystical STD!"

Yoongi shook his head at your performance.

“Anyways,” you flayed your hands to brush away his feigned disinterest. “There were other things that weren’t making sense, and I wasn’t really sure what it could be. But I went to do some reconnaissance at one of the bars one of these guys hit. I mean, I didn’t think anything would happen while I was there, because it doesn’t seem like this thing is hunting the same place twice, but who knows, you know? I had no other leads. So, I was at the bar, and I was looking super fucking cute and whatever, and I met this guy there who was like… so totally gorgeous. We talked for a while and then he totally brushed me off, so I just knew something was up.”

This time, Yoongi dropped his pencil, folded his hands together and rested his chin over them as he stared you down. “You’re telling me you got rejected and that is evidence of a serial killer with an STD?”

“Yes,” you pointed your finger to your nose and another at him to indicate he had landed on the right answer.

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m telling you, man, I looked good. I coulda bagged anyone in that place. I had this white tank top on, great cleavage, my dress jeans, and even mascara. But, there was this woman there, and she was I mean just so beautiful, and like… sexy, just sex, sexy, sexiness everywhere. She coulda told me she was a serial killer with an STD and I still woulda gone home with her. But she was watching him the whole time and eventually they left together.”

“Can you please get to the point?” he sighed.

“Well, I kept tabs on him for a while, as in I checked the obits to see if he suddenly died.”

“And did he die?”

“I mean I think he’s still alive.”

“Why do you only think he’s still alive?”

“Well, I saw him this morning at the library.”

“So, he is alive.”

“I mean something could have happened to him since then. What if he got hit by a car on his way home? I can’t guarantee he’s alive unless he was sitting here with us right now, Yoongi.”

“Mother of God…” he shook his head.

“So, like I said, I was at the library, trying to do some research and then…” you broke for dramatic appeal. “... I saw him come in.”

“To the public library?”

“And get this, he came into the occult section. So, I spied on him. He was looking through a buncha stuff and then he found something in one of the folklore books. I mean he even snapped pictures of what was in it, so, obviously he found what he was looking for. So, I…” you reached into your bag and pulled out a book, showing off the cover to Yoongi who barely glanced at it long enough to read the title, “checked it out. Impressive, right?”

“That you have a library card?”

“You are just so cute when you try to insult me,” you gave him a tilted look and a patronizing smile. “In the book I found this…” you flipped eagerly to the page you dogeared then placed it on the table in front of Yoongi, tapping your index finger loudly on the image in the center of the open page.

Yoongi straightened out the dogear, then looked at where you were pointing.

“This is a succubus!" you exclaimed. “And, this was the woman at the bar that I saw!”

“The one who left with that dude who rejected you?”

“It’s not exactly a rejection when the other person is being seduced by a mythical being. I swear, this picture is her - they’re identical. She’s a succubus.”

Yoongi tilted his head, acknowledging you were onto something. “Yeah, she is--"

“These deaths make so much sense now– wait… why do you say that like you know something I don’t?”

“Because I know her,” Yoongi replied nonchalantly. “I know she’s a succubus.”

“You know her?” you asked in disbelief.

He nodded. Your mouth fell open, and you sat staring between him and the picture. When your bafflement continued too long for his liking, Yoongi once again returned to his sketches.

But you weren’t done - You held the book up next to your face and looked at the picture, then looked back at him, tapping the image furiously again. “You know this woman?”

“I’m the one who drew that picture.”

This revelation was even more stun-worthy. You looked at the picture, then down to his sketchbook, and it… clicked… the image in the book and his drawings did have a similar style… too similar.

The book plopped heavy against the diner table as you leaned towards him.

“You drew this?!”

“That’s what I said.”

Normally you liked how his indifference clashed with your exuberance, but right now it was getting on your nerves.

“How did you know her?”

He shrugged, “I met her back in the day.”

You recoiled slightly, “Back in what day?”

“I don’t know, maybe… two hundred-ish years ago? Does that picture have a date?”

You didn’t care. “Did you like… Jack Dawson naked women a lot back in this day?”

“Not particularly.”

“Was she your girlfriend or something?”

“Not exactly,” he gave a very self-satisfied grin.

“Yoongi,” you gasped in near horror. “How on Earth could you have sex with a succubus?!”

“Are you kidding? How could someone not? They’re literally wired for sex.”

“But they suck your soul out.”

“Well, they do a lot of sucking, but not of your soul."

"Ew," you grimaced. But the thought actually had the opposite effect on you. You could feel the salacity you had been staving off all day beginning to build once again from behind your naval.

Fuck, you thought. Not again.

“She’s not a born succubus, she’s a human reborn as a succubus.”

You mentally shook yourself and tried to refocus on what he was saying. “I don’t care what class of demon someone is, I only care that they don’t go praying on the lives of my species."

“Well, in this case, it does matter, Y/N. Born succubae and incubi can actually take the soul of their partner. Reborn can’t. She’s not who you’re looking for.”

“How can I tell the difference between a born and a reborn?”

“You can’t.”

“Then how can you tell the difference?”

“Because I’ve been around long enough to know.”

You eyed him over, a little irritation also beginning to stir within you amidst the inappropriate feelings. Why was he so certain his little friend was in the clear? How friendly were they really?

“How do I know you’re not just protecting her?”

“Well, I had a lot of fucking sex with her, and I’m still here two-hundred years later, so I don’t know what else to tell you.”

And there it was - the stab of envy. That woman had been so irresistibly alluring on top of being just exquisitely beautiful, and Yoongi had slept with her… a lot, apparently. And she was made for fucking, and he had a millennia of experience and a plethora of supernatural stamina. Their time together was probably fucking insane. The things she probably did to him… The things he did to her…

“Hm,” you hummed, as another bloom of arousal washed through you, causing your legs to tighten and your spine to shiver. You didn’t want this to happen when you were in the middle of a jealousy crisis.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked curtly, taking notice of your shift.

“Nothing,” you shrugged him off.

He looked at you sideways, studying you for a moment. You grabbed your beer and gulped it down to avoid having to look at him.

“Could I get another, please?” you waved the empty bottle towards your waitress at the counter, and she smiled and nodded.

“You smell funny…” he said inquisitively.

Shit, he could smell it on you?

“Fuck you, I ran the whole way here. Leave me alone.”

Fortunately, the waitress showed up quickly and gave you a second bottle, clearing your empty from the table. You grabbed it and took another big gulp - it seemed to actually help. It felt like your skin had resettled into its normal level of sensitivity, and that your stomach had untied its knots.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, pretending to not know what he was talking about. “I gotta say though, Yoongi, I’m… impressed. You always seemed like such a loner, who knew you could be such a tramp.”

That seemed to be enough to move him on from the subject of you. “I’m over 7000 years old, Y/N, there’s a lot you don’t know about me. It’s not her. I promise you that.”

“Alright,” you sighed reluctantly. “Well, this sucks. I hate hitting dead ends.”

“The end isn’t dead. I think you’re right that it’s a succubus, you just found the wrong one. You need to find a born succubus - and probably one that is pretty young - like, less than 400 years old, they’re not great at self-control until after then.”

“For 400 years? Immortality sounds like a nightmare,” you lamented. “Would your little boudoir friend be able to give me any leads?”

“Probably not. As you rightfully pointed out, they’re different classes and hers minds their business. Her Madame might know though.”

“Can you get me a meeting with her Madame?”

“I don’t know her Madame.”

“Okay, can you get me a meeting with her?”

“No,” he answered with a finality.

“Why?” you inquired, a little defensive about being shut down.

“Because I don’t talk to her anymore. I don’t even know how to get a hold of her.”

“Did it end badly?” you asked condescendingly.

“No,” he guffawed. “I just haven’t seen her in forever. She was really young when her and I met—”

“Ew,” you scrunched your nose.

“She was a young demon,” he emphasized the word “demon” with obvious annoyance. “Not a young person. What is wrong with you?”

You grinned impishly back at him. It was so fun getting a rise out of him.

“Okay, but seriously, how am I gonna find the one who is doing this?”

“I don’t know, haven’t you tried your people? They used to keep a track on all succubae and incubi - probably still do even though it’s illegal.”

You pursed your lips. You really didn’t like going to your people for anything. “You’ve really dried up as an asset, you know that?”

You watched as he dug his tongue into his cheek, and the scene made you suddenly feel guilty. Normally, Yoongi was stoic and unbothered no matter what you threw at him. This was the game between you two, and it was fun trying to get on each others nerves. But this time he reacted, and you could tell you hit the wrong nerve.

“Sorry,” you apologized.

“We don’t need to mark this down as this week's favor,” he said, and his abruptness stung you even more. “Since I have nothing to offer you.”

“I’m sorry, I was just joking.”

“Is there anything else you need or am I free to go?” he said as he packed his sketchbook into his bag.

“Yoongi…” you pleaded with him, looking at him with rounded eyes, trying to exude how sorry you felt and to beg him not to go. He held your gaze, and you were relieved when you noticed how he eventually softened.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm just having a tough week. It's not you I'm upset at."

“Okay… I’m sorry anyways.”

“Don’t be,” he settled back into his seat. “Do you have an actual favour to ask of me?”

“Well… yeah…” you wiggled in the discomfort, not sure if you wanted to ask him anymore.

“Fire away.”

“Okay…” you took a deep breath. “But I don’t want you asking questions.”

“Too bad. I don’t do favors without context - that was a part of the conditions.”

You sighed, straightening yourself to hide how mortified you were about to become. “I need to get in contact with a witch.”

“I am not helping you go after a coven. That is a hard limit, I don’t mess with witches. They’re vindictive.”

“I’m not going after them, I need their help…”

“Help with what?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

“Well now I’m actually interested. What do you need them for?”

“Can I please not tell you?” you pleaded with him once more.

“No way, especially when it comes to the covens. I need to know if they’re gonna hex me if I help you.”

“Fine,” you looked to the ceiling, then pulled your shoulders back to look confidently back at him. “Remember that wolf I was seeing last year?”

“Yes…” he quirked his eyebrow, now highly suspicious of what was to come.

“I, umm… sort of… have his… mark.”

Yoongi’s entire being radiated disbelief. “Y/N…”

“I know—” you raised your hands in surrender.

“I told you to not mess with the dogs,” he scolded. “They’re so fucking reckless, no wonder why you smell weird.”

“To be fair, you tell me not to mess with everyone.”

“Obviously I have good reason to. How did either of you let that happen?”

“I mean… we were just… having a good time together and one day we sorta got lost in the moment.”

He closed his eyes and clucked his teeth. He probably had a million things he could have said, but he decided on one.

“You’ve been living with this for over a year?”

“Yeah, and it’s fucking awful.”

“Is he refusing to unmark you?”

“They can’t do any unmarking - that’s the whole point of marking.”

“Sure, but they of anyone would know who they would need to go to in order to unmark someone. You’re definitely not the first this has happened too.”

“I can’t ask him,” you shook your head.

“Well, that’s the easiest way.”

“Yeah, but then his pack would know, and apparently that would jeopardize his power play or something, I don’t know I didn’t really get it when he was telling me. I just know marking me, a human, and hunter nonetheless, who he wasn’t really that serious about would be bad for his reputation.”

“No kidding. What an asshole, the least he could do is take responsibility.”

“Oh, he’s not a bad guy. They have so many weird traditions about sex despite needing to fuck their dicks off twice a year. It’s really not that big of a deal, and frankly, he’s worthless to me professionally if everyone knew we were a thing once.”

“Still…” Yoongi sneered.

“Plus, you heard about the meeting? The wolves are sort of going through something right now and I am steering clear.”

Yoongi’s jaw was tight, and you could tell he wasn’t over this part of the conversation, but he moved on regardless. “Well, honestly, you need to steer clear of the witches right now too. My contact is on some revenge mission cuz of some Vamp boyfriend of hers.”

“A Bloodsucker and a Witch?” you awed.

“Yeah,” he echoed your astonishment. “But that means all her sisters are in on it now too. It would be suicide to even ask them for a piece of gum right now.”

“Is there another coven you know I could ask?”

“I’m serious, Y/N. Do not go near any witch right now. Not until things settle.”

“Okay,” you slumped back in your seat. “How about a Goblin then?”

“Nope. That’s who the witches are going after. If you approach one of them, the coven might think you’re colluding, then you’ll be worse than dead. Plus, goblins demand unreasonable payment.”

"Jesus, even your world has gone insane."

"Tell me about it. Even Death lost his mind. He went AWOL recently."

“Seriously? What does that mean? What happens if he’s not around?"

“I’m not sure, but honestly I’d rather just not die right now - I’m afraid I’d be lost in some sorta bureaucracy before moving on.”

“Fair enough." You buried your face in your hands and sobbed, "Ugh!There has to be someone who can help me.”

“When is the heat supposed to hit?”

“Tomorrow. I can feel it already.”

“Jesus, Y/N, why didn’t you say anything sooner? This is too last minute, even if I could get a hold of someone today. You’ll just have to endure this round.”

“I can’t.”

He gave you an unsympathetic crane of his neck. “You’re horny for a weekend, it can’t be that bad.”

“It is that bad. The first time I burned out both of my vibrators, and almost humped a lamppost on the way to buy another.”

“You’re so dramatic. Why don’t you just go back to that bar and find some dude? You can bag anyone, remember?”

“Yeah, and the first time I went through this with a human, he was my boyfriend, and he broke up with me.”

“Why?”

“I think he found it difficult to have endless sex with his girlfriend who was only horny because she was tethered to her exes mystic and superhuman sex drive.”

He scoffed. “Insecure.”

“That’s what I told him,” you nodded. “He was a colleague too, I figured if any human would understand it would be him. Like how would I even begin to explain this to a civilian?”

“Okay, if mankind is out then you only have two other options. Find another underworlder or stock up at the sex shop.”

“I guess so…” you trailed off, “I don’t know how many Helios I do know that might actually want to have sex with me that I can trust to not kill me. Why are you called Helios anyway?”

“That’s your word, not ours, and I was really leaning towards the sex shop when I was making my point, I wasn’t actually suggesting you go find someone.”

“Yeah…” you emptily acknowledged his words, since your mind was busy flipping through lists.

“Y/N…” he tried to snap you back to attention.

“It’s just…” you began to piece together your thoughts. “This hopefully will be my last experience. Since the first two times were basically flops, I wouldn’t mind ending this journey on a high note.”

He blinked. “You are the craziest person I’ve ever met.”

You looked at him, and then the thought occurred to you. Rather, the courage you always lacked came forward to capitalize on a thought you had always harbored.

“Hey, Yoongi,”

“No,”

“You didn’t know what I was going to ask.”

“I am not hooking you up with one of my friends.”

“I didn’t know you had friends; I was talking about you.”

He stilled, and his unmoving gaze scrutinized everything about you. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”

“I’m being a little bit serious,” you shrugged.

“A little bit?”

“A lotta bit. I mean, I’ve thought about it before. Haven’t you?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, come on… we have chemistry. I know you know that. Of course I’ve been curious.”

He didn’t answer, and his hard glare started to make you feel small.

“C’mon, you afraid you can’t handle me?” you retaliated against his silence.

He scoffed. “How sure are you that you could handle me?”

“Trust me, when this thing hits tomorrow, whatever you throw at me, I’ll be begging you to do again.”

He cleared his throat and kinked his neck. “It’s a bad idea.”

You rolled your eyes, melted into the booth, crossing your arms in defeat. You were partially embarrassed, partially disappointed, and partially willing to acknowledge that he might be right. “You didn’t say ‘no’ though, don’t think I didn’t notice that.”

He didn’t respond, and you felt a little flutter down south caused by the silence. He was considering it?

You pouted for a minute, but then decided to move onto a different subject - at least for the interim.

“I know Helio means heliophobic… it’s just, you’re not all afraid of the sun. So why the name?”

“It was what humans called the vampires when they discovered they were real. Then you all decided to call us all that. It’s offensive, really, we’re not all even the same Phylum.”

“What’s a Phylum?”

“Google it.”

“Are you offended when I say it?”

“I’m offended by a lot of things you say and that you don’t know what a Phylum is.”

“So you like Underworlder? Otherworlder?”

“I don’t care, Y/N.”

“Non-human?”

“I like whatever gets me out of this conversation.”

“Mm-hm,” you chuckled. But then your pride suddenly bursted somewhere in your brain. “What do you mean I can’t handle you?” you fired. “Just because I’m human? That's speciesiest. Now I’m offended.”

He sniffed out a sound that was part annoyed and part amused. “I’m sure you could, Y/N. I was just teasing.”

“What are you Imps into anyways? You hel–, I mean, non-humans all have your own sex kinks. What’s yours?”

“You can’t guess?” he tilted his head.

You looked down at the discarded twine sitting on top of the table. “I mean… you all like to play with your rope and knots and stuff. You all Shibari experts or something?”

“Something like that,” he affirmed, and there was darkness that graveled in his voice that made your skin prick again.

You swallowed. “Do you like… study bondage?”

“Technically we invented bondage.”

“Interesting…” you said, looking away trying to curve your attention to something boring before you ignited another flare-up. “Wouldn’t read that one in the history books.”

“Do most history books write about sex kinks?”

“I dunno… I’m sure some do," you pouted, sinking lower in your seat. “Maybe some of them even have your sketches in them.”

“You’re disappointed.”

“Well yeah…,” you threw your hands in the air, “I didn’t think you’d shut me down so quickly.” 

“I don’t want things to get complicated, Y/N.”

You leaned across the table, “I am the least complicated person on this planet."

"You don't say."

"I can be just like your little succubae friend - just wham, bam, thank-you ma’am. No strings attached, pun intended. I’ll even let you draw a picture.”

He looked unamused.

“What, am I not pretty enough to be drawn like one of your French girls, Jack?”

“I didn’t— you are insufferable.”

“I’ll let you tie me up. I’d love to learn from the experts.”

“Big no to that.”

“Oh come on,” you raised your hands above your head, crossing them like you were strung to the ceiling. “Don’t I look good like this? Tell me you’re not thinking about it a little bit.”

“I’m not.”

“Yoongi,” you moaned his name, loud enough for the next booth to hear. But instead of an awkward and confused silence befalling the space around you, you heard several men choke. You looked around the diner to find them pulling at the knots of their ties which somehow simultaneously tightened all at once. Your face split into a victorious grin. Now you knew he was thinking about it - and he knew you knew.

If the creature before you could blush you were sure he would be right now.

“Ahh, you men are all the same, no matter what species.”

“Phylum. And if by that you mean we like sex, then yes, but other than that, I assure you, we are not all the same.” There was now definitely a hint of something salacious in how he said it.

“Please don’t tease me about sex in my delicate condition.”

“Ha… if you’re delicate then I’m a Kelpie.”

“When was the last time you got laid anyway?”

“Last week. Can you please lower your arms?"

“Last week, really?” your arms dropped not in response to his request but in reaction to the news. Fuck, jealousy was a useless emotion. “I guess there goes that angle,” your tone was clearly disheartened. You took in a big breath and exhaled, surrendering your advances. “Well, I’ve thrown at you all I could. If you change your mind, you know how to get a hold of me - I’ll be at the adult fun store.”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed.

Fortunately, your pancakes arrived hot from the kitchen, just in time to curb the conversation from what was turning out to be an embarrassing display for you. But you appreciated Yoongi’s grace - despite how often you two jabbed at each other, he could have used this moment to seriously humiliate you, but he didn’t.

You tore pancakes into bite-sized pieces with your hands. Yoongi joined you. Even though the first time you did this, he scorned your little custom, he was eventually converted to your ways.

When the plate was ready, you grabbed the syrup and went to work coating every morsel you could find, until the bottom of the plate was a thick layer of amber and everything above it was a soggy, sugary mess.

You both grabbed a fork and began picking away at the plate, eating in silence. It was comfortable, familiar - despite the previously uncomfortable and unfamiliar proposal you had just made.

You liked having Yoongi as a friend, even though he might not classify your relationship as friendship, but, who was he to make that call? He didn’t seem to have much of a social circle at all, but then who were you to make that call, you didn’t know a lot about him outside of your little meetings or the poker hall.

You engaged in an awkward round of small talk for the first while, but soon you two became comfortable again. After you brainstormed a few ways for you to track down the rogue succubus, things became silent once more, and you could tell he had something on his mind.

“Are you serious about tomorrow?” he finally spoke.

“In what way?”

“You and me. Three days together.”

You eyed him skeptically, but hope flared within you. “Depends, are you going to reject me again if I say yes?”

“Look… if I do this, I have a condition.”

“What is that?”

“I want my debt to you to be cleared.”

You nearly choked. You didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth. It made you feel instantly uneasy. Maybe a little hurt. Maybe a little guilty?

“Am I that insufferable to be around?”

“Yes, but it’s not about that. There is a reason why I’ve dried up as a resource. There is a reason why I seem like a loner. It’s because I am chained to you, and everyone knows it. I can’t reverse that until I am no longer indebted - it is fucking up my life."

You stared stunned back at him. It made sense, though, but for some reason you had been blind to it. You had enjoyed your arrangement, not because he was indebted to you, but because it meant you got to spend time together. But you now understood why he had taken offense to your earlier remarks. He was hurting, and you were just insulting what he was doing which caused him his hurt. “I’m… sorry… I didn’t know. I’m an idiot.”

“I was the idiot who decided to gamble away a year of my life to you in a fucking poker game. I shoulda known better. It’s not your fault."

“I mean, true. You always did underestimate me. I didn’t realize you were so miserable…”

“I’m not miserable, don’t be dramatic. I’m just looking for an opportunity. You’d be doing the same.”

You nodded; he was right. If you had lost that poker game you definitely would have looked for ways to get out of your debt. “Well, I still wish you had just said something - I would have cleared you earlier. Or, hell, you could have just stopped, I wouldn't have chased you down or anything. I don’t even know where you live."

“We have to live up to our promises… or else we die.”

“Well now who's being dramatic? You’re all so extreme all the time, why do immaterial things always hafta kill you?"

"We are who we are."

“Look… Your debt is cleared. As of right now. Do you need me to say something formal?”

“You can’t clear me until afterwards.”

“No. You don't need to do... that. This is separate from that… I’m clearing you now. No more favors."

“Why?”

“Like you said, you’re drying up. I have no use for you."

He nodded, but this time his reaction wasn't offense, it was amusement.

"Also, I really don’t want to exchange sex to pay off a bet with you," you squirmed. "It’s uncomfortable. I wanted you to do it cuz you wanted to. I'm a romantic like that.”

He sat quietly for a beat, and you wondered what he was thinking. Then he nodded.

“Okay, well... I can’t just accept it, I need to perform a final favor, then you can clear me.”

“Mm… okay," you thought for a moment eyeing the half-eaten plate of pancakes in front of you. "You can pay for dinner, but I’m getting dessert.”

“Done.”

⁂

When you were sufficiently stuffed with pancakes, cheesecakes and 4 bottles of beer, it was clear it was time to leave, but you lingered a little longer, not wanting the night to end. But eventually, Yoongi stood from the booth and pulled on his long, jet-black, wool coat, and dug his wallet out from its pocket. He dropped a wad of cash on the table.

“I have paid for dinner,” he said in a very formal tone that made you sit up straight. “Do you consider this act of service to be sufficient to clear the debt against me?”

“I do,” you responded awkwardly, not quite sure what you were supposed to say. He should have coached you first. “Payment is settled,” you said, channeling The Godfather.

“Good,” he smiled, satisfied - and maybe a little entertained by another one of your performances.

He reached for his black leather gloves and pulled them over his hands. You watched him do so, unsure of what you should do when he was done. This was kind of a goodbye… This might be the last time you saw him… at least for a while. You couldn’t call him anymore to meet you at the diner once a week. Well, you could, but… he would have no reason to come anymore. You didn’t expect to come here tonight for this to be a goodbye. You were going to miss him. But at least you weren't a burden to him anymore. That feeling sucked. You were a strange mix of relief and remorse.

“Come over to my place tomorrow,” he dropped a napkin in front of you, on it he had scribbled an address. “I’ll fuck your brains out.”

“What?” you coughed.

“Do I always need to repeat myself?”

“Ummm,” you felt yourself begin to fluster. “I said you didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to. And now I don’t owe you anything.”

Well, that was relieving, but you felt like there was a catch. “You sure?”

“Mm-hm. I think it’s a good way to end our relationship. Go out with a bang.”

“I mean… there’s gonna hafta be at least a dozen bangs.”

“I can keep up. And afterward, I’ll get you in touch with my guy. You’ll… probably hafta drink something disgusting that took a month to brew, but… at least you won’t be tied to that beast anymore.”

“Okay… great… thanks…” Honestly you weren't really able to look ahead to the future since you were cemented in time to the revelation from 10 seconds ago.

“And I have rules.”

You raised an eyebrow, “They are?”

He leaned down so he could whisper in your ear, and your whole body tightened at his proximity. His voice became low, enticing and dangerous, “Do as you're told, and don’t make me repeat myself.”

You felt yourself metaphorically clutch your pearls - your vagina also clutched its pearl - but this time you weren’t sure if the pre-heat symptoms had anything to do with it. “Damn, I didn’t know you knew how to flirt.”

He pulled his face back, pausing inches from yours, and you stopped breathing as you stared at his lips only a moment away from yours.

He winked, and you swallowed. He straightened himself up, running a hand through his hair as he inspected himself in the reflection of the diner's window. Then he placed his umbrella on the table in front of you, turned and left.

Go to Chapter 2.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

miss kitty | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Oh, Miss Kitty, you're so bad but so good, so damn beautiful that you make me sick, ah, for real tho, Jeon Jungkook swallowed too much alcohol and ice-cold chaser at once and now he's sprinting to the bathroom to vomit. But, oh, he does want all those kisses so damn bad.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining what's new, it's JK; vocal line ogling Miss Kitty, what? she's in a bikini, we know she's doing it on purpose; if the outfits sound familiar, refer to the original ITS outfits, lmao; literally just crack + fluff; mentions of a blowjob and sex daydreams; non-idol!BTS - a mess (of bad decisions)!Jungkook x noona!reader, ft vocal line shenanigans, mentions of Joon + Hobi, and Yoongi appearing at random inappropriate times; JK's POV with a tiny bit of Seokjin's POV

ofc inspired by 'bad decisions' by benny blanco, bts, and snoop dogg

--

“You’re kidding me.”

“She never comes to these things.”

“The hell are you guys looking at – holy shit.”

“Are those cat ears?”

“Who gives a shit about the cat ears? She’s in a goddamn bikini!”

“What is her tongue doing?”

“Can you be jealous of air? Because I’m jealous of air right now.”

“I heard she bites into her popsicles.”

The four heads admiring the woman in a black bikini and fluffy cat ears snapped to the side in unison where a bored voice sat under them, using the four men as his personal shade. Sunglasses, wide-brimmed straw hat, watermelon popsicle, wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and black pants at a pool party, nodding sagely as he continued.

“I lied. I’ve seen it. It’s hardcore,” Min Yoongi said with about as much enthusiasm as a rock.

“Where’d you get the hat, hyung?”

“Hoseok put it on me. I don’t know where he went.”

Kim Taehyung put his large hand on Min Yoongi’s straw hat and patted the golden-yellow circle. Yoongi continued enjoying his popsicle and squinting at the sun. Well, it was hard to tell because of the sunglasses, but that was what Jeon Jungkook assumed because he had seen Yoongi’s disapproving face enough times to see the wrinkle of distaste in his otherwise neutral, slightly upturned mouth.

Strangely cat-like.

“She’s crawling on people and pouring their drinks into their mouths,” Park Jimin suddenly said.

Kim Seokjin made a choking sound and covered his eyes, looking straight through his fingers. He was also wearing a straw hat that coincidentally matching Yoongi’s – or, rather, previously Jung Hoseok’s. He was looking handsome in a bright pink tropical-print shirt, robin’s egg blue t-shirt, and white shorts, itching closer to the drinks table to grab… something.

“What are you doing, hyung?” Taehyung suddenly piped up, making Seokjin squeak and send the red plastic cup he had been reaching for shooting across the table.

“Nothing!”

“Bring her over here, Tae,” Jimin hissed, taking his sunglasses off his head and hiding his eyes, as if he could hide in his royal blue shirt and distressed denim shorts that showed off his powerful calves.

“How?”

“How? Your face, bro!”

Taehyung was apparently completely unaware of how naturally handsome he was, but he was also the guy in a half-unbuttoned lemon-print collared shirt with green shorts that exactly matched the shade of green of the leaves, so it was pretty obvious that he was pretending for the sake of his dignity. “My face? What am I supposed to do? Smile?”

“It works on everyone else!” Jimin retorted.

“It kinda does,” Yoongi agreed, licking his popsicle.

Jungkook chanced a moment to stare at her.

This was bad.

Firstly, she was definitely out of his league. Those full, shapely lips in that teasing half-smile. Eyes that promised making secrets if you got her alone. The movement of her hair cascading over her shoulders as she walked. No makeup – he could tell because the small mole under the left side of her lower lip was visible. So fucking pretty that he wanted to throw up. Soft little cat-ear headband giving her a demure look even though there was nothing demure about that sleek, sexy body tucked into a simple black bikini. Clean lines, nothing fancy, but a million bucks because it was on her, perky ass and long legs ending in strappy heels.

She bent over and Jungkook had to stare at her face to avoid thinking about ramming his hips into that plush booty.

Secondly, she was older than him, which was not a problem except it was a problem because Jungkook was trying not to be that guy, you know, the kind of guy that went after older women because they most likely knew how to suck dick better or was that just his brain trying to justify watching her tongue dance across her lips as she leaned in and poured a drink into some girl’s mouth. The girl looked like she was about to orgasm.

Same, miss, same.

Thirdly, women like that had a reputation for only appearing when they wanted someone to prey on and Jungkook didn’t want to be that guy, you know, the one that was eagerly waiting to be preyed on every day of the week, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I mean what, no, but, well, he had to admit that there was something sexy about letting it happen even if it was clearly a bad decision.

Fourthly.

She looked up and made eye contact with him.

Shit!

Jungkook threw himself behind Taehyung and stumbled right into Seokjin’s midsection.

Jimin gasped.

Yoongi scooted out of the way and finished his popsicle.

He wouldn’t. No, of course, no. It was a terrible choice. And what was he gonna do? Those legs around his waist and that insane confidence all up on him – no, Jungkook didn’t believe that he could survive. And the whole situation was even worse because one time he accidentally overheard some noises and saw something at the back of another party, at the gazebo in the lavish garden. Surrounded by trees and dark wood, there it was, Kim Namjoon’s dick down her throat and her tongue flashing against his crotch, her hands clutching tan shorts that were still-half-on.

Nope, Jungkook would die if she came within ten meters of him.

He didn’t want to be that guy.

God, she was so fucking hot that Jungkook wanted to die.

He grabbed Seokjin and dragged him around the large table of drinks and coolers, grabbing a cold glass of pink ice and pouring two shots of vodka down his throat, chasing it with the frozen slush.

Okay, it wasn’t two shots of vodka.

The soju bottle was half-empty in his hand.

A bad decision.

Jungkook choked at the ice-cold sensation and Seokjin, instead of helping him, snatched the glass from him and chased down whatever god-awful burning fire he also ingested, leaving them both collapsing and dying under the table. Taehyung rushed over as Jimin scooped up an ice tea-looking drink that definitely didn’t only have ice tea in it.

“Guys, are you okay? Drink this!”

“What happened, Jungkook suddenly malfunctioned…!”

He didn’t have time to explain through his blurred vision and inability to feel his throat that was both hot and cold at once, thoughts swimming, those legs popping into his head again, the soft curve of that v-line, hips that begged for hands, tiny waist trapped between his arms, okay, fine, Jungkook had sex dreams about her, but who could blame him, he accidentally watched her give a blowjob! At a public party! Not in public, but… basically! And she had that beautiful face, he hated how she could look sexy and cute at the same time, and he didn’t see her often enough even though he went to these parties with Taehyung and Jimin in attempt to see her again, just to see her body line and her smile, not to touch, of course not, he couldn’t.

She was there only rarely, but.

He wanted to make out with that mouth so bad.

Feel those kisses on his skin and squirm in a dark corner, trying to hide from everyone but also not, at this point he didn’t have shame anymore, he was clutching Seokjin like a life raft on the patio under a table and drunk on his thoughts, in another dimension where this sexy noona in a black bikini and cat ears was crawling over him, her fist on his chest mimicking a kitty cat as she leaned in and pressed that underlip mole against his skin, lips and tongue connecting with his.

He had never even spoken one word to her.

Wait.

No, one time he said, hi.

That was a strong enough foundation to at least hold hands, right?

Jungkook felt a hand on his right leg.

“Hey, you alright? Should I call paramedics?”

Everyone froze.

Jungkook felt his eyelids stretch into huge, geometrically correct circles around his large eyeballs.

She was kneeling under the table, staring at Seokjin and him.

Holy fuck, I can see her nipples.

Her hair framed her face perfectly, wispy tips around her cheeks and over half her forehead. Inquisitive eyes with a piercing shape, the kind you would always remember. Soft pillowy lips slightly parted with that small mole slightly to the left of that full lower lip. The cups of the bikini molded perfectly to her breasts, but this angle showed off the peak of each mound, sticking out very obviously because she was on her knees on the wooden deck, under the plastic table, tilting her head as her left hand rested on his right calf.

The cat ears gave her gestures a feline playfulness.

She crawled over a little more and Jungkook nearly threw up, the alcohol suddenly hitting him like a truck. Or she was so damn beautiful that his body was physically rejecting the liquid poison so he could maintain an erection.

One of those.

“I’m gonna be sick,” he wheezed.

He threw Seokjin aside and his hyung yelled as he was caught by Taehyung, but Jungkook was too busy scrambling to his feet, losing his sandals in the process, a blur of topical yellow shirt, black t-shirt and blue shorts, throwing himself into the open patio door and hastily stumbling into the nearest bathroom to retch.

Nice.

-

Kim Seokjin never made bad decisions.

Nope.

He only made good decisions, like pretending to play dead as the sexy woman crawled over him and placed her hand on his forehead, asking Taehyung if he was okay. He let Taehyung sputter as he cracked open his eyes to peek at those boobs and those supple legs between his legs. Could feel her soft skin against his and the pads of her fingers stroking his brow. He heard them suggest going inside to lay down for a bit. Saw Jimin helping her up, so Seokjin did what any person attracted to nice ass would do.

Stare at it.

Her back was turned. She wouldn’t know.

“I’ve been here before. For a vacation last year. The bedrooms are this way.”

The air conditioning felt nice actually.

-

Jungkook lost them.

How could he lose three men, especially with one with massive shoulders, one of the sexiest men alive and… well, Jungkook often lost Jimin but that was because he didn’t have a reason to look down that often. Kidding! Anyway… after gargling an obscene amount of sink water and reconfiguring his swirly vision, Jungkook emerged from the bathroom, expecting to see three concerned faces looking for him, but there was nothing but bouncy club music and summer outfits on bodies that weren’t the ones he came with.

He didn’t even see the straw hat hyung.

He came because Jung Hoseok had asked him to come and celebrate summer, renting out a huge vacation mansion to do so. He had no problem coming over to help set up, but he told his hyung that he was going home right after, he wasn’t the party type, not really, oh, well, maybe stay for an hour, ah, okay, two, holy shit, cat ears and a bikini and Jungkook was doomed.

Damn you Miss Kitty.

In his defense, Jungkook had never seen her in a bikini before!

And it was glorious.

His dick was wet thinking about it.

Jungkook jerked and went back into the bathroom.

Reemerged after cleaning that up. Anyway. No. Jungkook was not gonna be that guy. Hooking up at a party? No, that wasn’t him. He was the kind of guy to dance in a corner and stay in that corner with his friends. His friends would wander off to take photos and make small talk, but that wasn’t him. And he certainly couldn’t chat up someone he was interested in, especially someone so damn beautiful that it made him sick.

Oh!

Jungkook found his sandals. Someone must have collected them and put them by the patio door. He was about to put them on and check outside, but them he spotted something in the mess of shoes. Dainty, strappy black heels in the rays of golden hour barely starting.

He whipped his head around and went back into the house.

Friends? What are those? They would find him eventually. He scanned the party, looking past the glowing faces, peering at the tops of heads for fuzzy black cat ears. He was just looking. He wasn’t going to do anything. He was just checking out what she was–

Perky faux animal ears bobbing past his vision, coming from the kitchen.

Jungkook’s brain told him, this is a bad idea.

Jungkook’s dick told him, looking at those nipples poking out of that bikini one more time couldn’t hurt.

Jungkook’s legs were already walking very fast.

In hindsight, he knew why he was hesitating. He was a simple guy. He liked what he liked and, when it was a person, he didn’t want to let go, especially when that person was cool, capable, and stunningly attractive, someone who did whatever she wanted but never at the expense of others, someone who tiptoed the line of what was proper, breaking those rules so casually that he fell deeper and deeper for that teasing half-smile, but they hadn’t even had a real conversation yet and what if he was in delulu land all this time?

But Jungkook couldn’t just let her walk away.

If it was a bad decision, then…

Fuck it.

He saw her enter a room, leaving the door partly open.

“I brought a cold cloth and some water.”

Jungkook slowly peered over the doorframe.

Seokjin was half-propped up on a bed with an obscene number of pillows as Jimin and Taehyung crowded around him, lifting his hair as she placed a damp washcloth on that handsome forehead, handing him the glass of water.

“Should I bring some hangover cure too?”

“Ah, aren’t you cold, noona?” Taehyung asked worriedly, placing a light hand on her shoulder. “We should find a jacket or something…”

“It’s so nice,” Seokjin suddenly said very loudly. “When you’re all sitting next to me.”

The eldest shot a murderous look at Jimin and Taehyung, wordlessly telling them both to not have her move from his vision again. She seemed not to notice, patting Seokjin on the head with her thigh against his, scooting closer to the pillows.

“Don’t worry, we’ll accompany you until you feel better.”

Miss Kitty – not her name but what Jungkook was calling her in his head now – leaned over to the pillows and placed her forearms on them, turning to Jimin to ask how he knew Jung Hoseok, but Jungkook had no idea what she said because he was staring at her ass nestled in the bedcovers and that gorgeous back half-covered by her hair. She was having an entire conversation with the three of them as Seokjin sipped on his water and acted as if he was slowly but surely recovering from some mild distress, and yet Jungkook was hearing none of it, tuning out their joyful laughter as he gawked by the door. She turned to speak to Taehyung.

Jungkook stared at her stunning profile, dying slowly but surely on the inside.

She leaned over to Seokjin and kissed him on the cheek, turning him instantly red.

“Feeling better?”

Jungkook nearly broke the doorframe as he threw himself inside the bedroom.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you guys!”

That sounded way more aggressive than he meant it to sound, but Jungkook didn’t care about those sudden fear in three collective pairs of eyes because her head turned in slow motion, cat ears and all, looking over her shoulder, and then those inquisitive eyes were on him, just him, Jeon Jungkook.

“Oh! I know you. Ah… what was it again…?” She scrunched up her face a little in adorable thought. “Aah, Jeon Jungkook! Yes, Namjoon told me a lot about you.”

Everything but her saying his name went over his head.

“W-W-What…?”

She turned slightly, her chest against Seokjin’s arm and his hyung turned even redder, abruptly freezing in place and not moving. Her arm shifted and she borrowed that broad shoulder, smiling at him and Jungkook felt his mind turn into a puddle of mush, forgetting all Korean as she said, “He said you’re good at everything. Especially sports. The complete opposite of me, heh.”

“I’m not good at sports,” Seokjin blurted.

“Me neither,” Jimin suddenly added.

Taehyung was not one to be ignored. “I could teach you golf. It’s easy.”

“Is it?”

And she looked away from Jungkook.

That does it.

There was a certain bro code. Don’t make moves unless alone. Simple common courtesy. Group settings should be chill, not a competition. But all was fair in love and war and this was war, so Jungkook slid out of his yellow short-sleeved button-up and walked forward, placing his knee on the bed and draping it over her shoulders in the middle of their conversation.

She turned immediately, her hair bubbling in the collar, kissable lips parted in surprise.

“You’ll get a cold,” Jungkook said quietly. “That wouldn’t be good, noona.”

There was a second too long, a pause that seemed to linger.

“… Thanks, Jungkook.”

She patted the spot on the other side of her.

“Come a little closer.”

-

“You can’t be serious.”

Somehow it was already dark. The party was winding down. Everyone was finding corners to sit in. An old-school, feel-good movie played on the massive television screen in the living room that people occasionally glanced at. Seokjin got hungry and left with Taehyung to order something to be delivered. Jimin got whisked away when someone recognized him from the door. Must have been someone that he hadn’t seen in a while because he was glued by the door now, leaving Jungkook sitting with his noona wearing cat ears and his shirt over her bathing suit.

“Over a perilla leaf? Isn’t that a little too extreme?”

She was laughing at him. Jungkook puffed his cheeks.

“You don’t understand!”

“No, I don’t. It’s just a leaf,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “You think too much about a simple gesture. What, you let me borrow your shirt and I should expect us to kiss?” She grinned, anticipating him to answer with something silly.

Jungkook opened his mouth but nothing came out.

The reality of their moment alone suddenly hit him.

The corners of her lips faltered, noticing his hesitation. He swallowed quickly and shifted his eyes, begging Jimin to come back and break this sudden tension, but Jimin was too absorbed in his friend reenacting a funny story and now this was getting too weird, he had waited too long to say anything and so he willed his head to turn and at least look in her direction but he couldn’t for some reason, his neck and ears turning hot as he sputtered then almost full-on threw himself onto the floor when her hand touched his thigh.

“Jungkook?”

He jerked robotically and laughed awkwardly, the noise immediately dying when his eyes made contact with hers.

She tilted her head, cat ears and all.

Don’t do that, Miss Kitty!

Her hand shot back like he was made of hot coal.

“Sorry. Sorry, I was… well, you acted a little weird there.”

Wait, don’t do that either.

Jungkook cleared his throat, swallowing his nervousness. “No, I…”

He suddenly noticed the placement of her hands on her lap, her fingertips rubbing the hem of the shirt against her thigh. She hummed along the bass of the song playing outside, looking away from him, and suddenly he felt bad. His odd behavior probably made her uncomfortable.

“Hey, uh, noona?”

She turned her head and gave him an attentive look, so pretty he nearly became tongue-tied again.

“What’s with the cat ears?”

She ticked her chin and gaze upwards as if she was glancing at them even though they were on the top of her head. “Oh, these? I just felt like wearing them.” She grinned, creating little bread-like puffs of her cheeks. “I felt like I should have a little fun so why not look the part too?” She raised her hand and lightly bonked the side of her head, letting out a half-sigh, half-laugh. “I’m always fighting between, am I too much or should I let myself go wild? ‘Cause I want to do things but people might misunderstand me.”

Her fist curled a little and her expression became one of cat-like mischief, his shirt falling open a little and exposing part of that tiny bikini top.

“Nyang.”

Jungkook was going to faint from her cuteness.

And losing blood in his head because it was rapidly shooting down to the lower half of his body.

She laughed, dropping her hand and waving it around. “Just ignore that, hahaha! I do whatever comes to mind that feels like it might be fun, heh.”

“No,” Jungkook heard himself saying. “That was cute. Do it again.”

Holy shit. He was smiling like a dumb idiot. Where did this confidence come from? He must be drunk. Never mind that he emptied the contents of his stomach earlier. Never mind he definitely spent the past three hours talking and drinking nothing but water. He must be drunk. Fuck, why was she so cute and sexy? With those expressive eyes and that smooth skin with the little dot of a mole underneath her lower lip on the left side, a half-smile as she raised both hands to mimic little two paws and went…

“Nyang.”

Her knuckles brushed against his collarbone lightly, smile turning into a playful smirk.

“Nyang!”

Jungkook died.

Not literally.

But, well, Jimin was still right there, people he didn’t know were right there, Seokjin and Taehyung could come back any second, and if he wasn’t in heaven, he was at least in a fever dream and somehow previous knowledge of late-night dramas popped into his head, generally not advice he would ever take in real life, but, all of a sudden, he was compelled to reach up and grab her hand, covering her make-believe cat-paw with his larger hand, tattooed fingers over her knuckles.

She froze, eyes widening.

“Hey, noona.”

Her eyes darted from his hand to his face.

This was a bad decision.

Jungkook let himself smile because he didn’t care.

“I wish you would kiss me, but that’s crazy, huh?”

What the hell am I saying? Abort! Take it back right now – wait, why was she getting close–

She leaned over and her lips touched his.

Now Jungkook was sure he died. Maybe literally. Ceased to function at least. It was only a simple press of lips to lips and then she drew back a little, tilting her head a little and smiling. He was dead. This must be heaven.

“Just one? Or more?”

He was speaking but it was more like barely intelligible mumbles. “B-But… I… You… me…”

She tapped his own hand against his chest, mischievous sparkle in those eyes.

“I mean, if you think helping someone peel a perilla leaf is going to lead to holding hands, to kissing, to straight up marriage, what does borrowing your shirt lead to?” she purred against his lips. “It smells just like you, like you’re right against my skin, giving me a hug from behind.”

His brain immediately went to delulu land. A back-hug? In her bikini? With his nose nuzzling in between her fake cat ears? And everyone knowing they were together?

He would just have to convince her to be his.

Jungkook closed the distance between them and she smiled against his colliding kiss.

In hindsight, this was a bad decision. Now Jungkook was going to have to lie and tell his children that he asked his mom out on cute dates instead of the truth of becoming obsessed with her little by little, oh, and accidentally seeing her suck his hyung’s dick, and, ah, now making out with her on a bed that wasn’t his while she was in a bikini and cat ears wearing his shirt, her thighs squeezing his waist as he gasped into her mouth.

“What are you guys doing?”

Jungkook yelped and clutched her waist, shoving his face into her clavicle as she laughed and turned her head to the bored voice beside the bed. A peek over her shoulder and there was a straw hat and a pale hand holding a slice of pizza.

“Seokjin-hyung and some guys bought pizza,” Min Yoongi announced, chewing slowly as he stood there beside the bed, pointedly not explaining how or why he suddenly got there. “You should eat it while it’s still hot, Jungkook.”

“What about me?” said the laughing voice above Jungkook’s head. “I want pizza.”

“Apparently you’re eating men,” Yoongi countered. “I’m not worried about you being full. Jungkook will fill you up as soon as you let him.”

A full minute of dead silence that was filled with outside laughing and loud music. Yoongi casually munched on his pizza as Jungkook grabbed her hand and mumbled something about getting food, he couldn’t stay here any longer, he was going to expire of embarrassment, practically fusing with the wall to get away from that judging look. He didn’t regret it but it was still mortifying, all this a bad decision but bad as in bad meaning good, and he froze up as her fingers turned and intertwined with his, her body leaning against him, lips pressing to his cheek.

“Don’t worry. We’re accomplices now, you and me.”

Jungkook turned his head, staring into her eyes.

Miss Kitty and me.

The straw hat popped into his peripheral vision.

“I’m still here.”

Jungkook sputtered and ran, her laugh right by his side.

--

masterpost

[minisugakoobies]

Versus | MYG, JHS - Chapter 5

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, enemies to lovers, Villains!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons - blades, use of restraints - chains and straitjacket, implied threat of death by mauling, fighting, mentions of blood, Yoongi confirmed cat owner, Hobi's fuse is getting shorter by the minute

Word Count: 2.5k

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Supervillain exes Yoongi and Hoseok are sick and tired of having their plans for world domination wrecked by you, aka Vitality, the world’s most powerful superhero. When fellow villain Jimin suggests a little competition to see who can bring you to your knees, they both eagerly accept. Now the battle is on as both men engage you in fight after fight to see who will conquer you first. Will you finally defeat these two, or will they destroy you - and possibly take each other out in the process?

A/N: And we're back in the ring again, for another round of fights! Things are really heating up. Time for our villains to decide if they're gonna put out the fire, or burn even brighter, as Hobi himself would say.

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Chapter Four ✨ Series Masterlist ✨ Chapter Six

Chapter Five: Back in the Ring

Yoongi would really love to hear Jimin announce his name as the winner, but the way you’re moving in that straitjacket right now has him doubting today’s his lucky day.

You’re also questioning your luck as you attempt to free yourself from the tight black garment. One moment, you were seconds away from defeating Yoongi again, shooting his daggers out of the sky and aiming for him next, when suddenly you felt that familiar invisible wave pulsate through you, and you fainted.

You, Vitality, the most powerful creature on the fucking planet, swooned like some lady in a romance novel whose stays were tied too tight. You passed the fuck out in the middle of a fight, and woke up wearing a straitjacket, suspended by chains dangling from the ceiling in… well, you don’t know where the fuck you are. He must’ve dragged you back to one of the many safehouses he has scattered across the globe. And your fucking powers are on the fritz again, just like the last time you’d fought Yoongi and ended up strung up on the wall. 

You. Are. Pissed.

“Where the fuck are we, you ginger psycho?!” you shriek, swinging back and forth as you shift your shoulders, trying to loosen the jacket’s stranglehold. “And why the fuck do you even have a straitjacket??”

Yoongi merely cackles, stroking your nose with the tip of his dagger, trying to maintain his relaxed air. The plan is to dangle you over the cage where Moonlight, his beloved snow leopard, is waiting impatiently for her dinner. But the elaborate rope and pulley system Taehyung designed is… well, it’s stuck, the gears refusing to turn, so now Yoongi’s stalling for time while Taehyung searches for his oil. 

Yoongi makes a note to discuss proper lubrication techniques with his confidant once Moonlight’s been fed. 

The power disrupters seem to be working perfectly for once, thankfully. However, you’re bouncing so wildly that Yoongi’s starting to suspect he’s made a bad decision here with his choice of constraint. That damn jacket. Why not use his standard restraints? There are no points here for showmanship. 

Sometimes he just can’t help himself. He’s a natural born showman. 

An agitated growl brings his wandering thoughts back to heel. 

“Patience, darling,” Yoongi calls out to his pet. He taps his dagger against your cheek. “Any last requests?”

“Yeah, why don’t you kiss my ass, motherfucker?” you spit, feeling your left arm starting to slip. Shit, you really hate this part.

Yoongi sheaths his dagger as he roughly grips your face with one leather-gloved hand. “That can be arranged, if you’d like. I told you before, I am open to suggestions.”

“I suggest you go fuck yourself, you fucking cockwaffle!”

He barely blinks at your spite. “For a superhero, you have such a filthy mouth,” he murmurs, running a thumb over your bottom lip. “Want me to put it to good use one last time?”

“Whatever you’re about to say, just shove–“ 

“Always so vulgar,” Yoongi interrupts you smoothly, fingers still grasping your cheeks. He needs to divert your attention long enough for Taehyung to figure out the gears, or this is going to end very badly for him. Again. “It’s almost a shame that I have to get rid of you, pretty bird. We could have such fun together.”

Your shoulder loosens. Finally. 

“I highly fucking doubt that, you homicidal maniac.” But you recognize the glint in his eyes, and your swinging stops for a moment as you find yourself lost in it. 

“Come now. Your time is growing short. There’s no need to pretend with me. How long have we been fighting now? How many battles? I can read you so clearly, after all this time. I know you want to know.” He tilts his face, mouth close enough to yours that you can feel his warm breath on your lips. It’s enough to make you lose focus for a moment, chest hitching as soft fingertips ghost over your chin. 

The shift from cruel to gentle is whiplash-inducing. And strangely alluring. But you need to stay sharp. Concentrate. 

Distract him. 

“Know what?” you ask. Scarlet shimmers around him as he steps closer, hands cradling your head. “What could you possibly think you know about me?”

“I know that you’re frustrated.”

“Obviously!”

“I don’t mean with the current circumstances, pretty bird. I know you’re frustrated with the way your company just can’t seem to keep its hands on me.” The corner of his mouth curls in a self-satisfied smirk. “And you’re shouldering all that blame yourself, aren’t you? No matter how much you do for them, it’s just not enough, is it?”

You blink, trying not to show how rattled you are by his words. It’s like he can see directly into your mind. How the fuck does he do that? “You just think you know everything, don’t you?” 

Yoongi laughs, a low chuckle that tickles your cheek. He adjusts his grip, one hand on either side of your face, eyes darkening as they gaze into yours. 

“It’s true, pretty bird, that there is so much I know. So much that you’re not even aware of. But I will admit now, knowing you’ll take this secret to your grave, that there’s something I’ve always longed to know.”

Something he remembers, one very drunken evening, talking to someone else about. He also remembers the way the other man had glanced at him like he was mad. 

He always loathed that look. 

“What?” The question tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. This is your chance - don’t let yourself get distracted now!

Focus. 

“What it would be like,” he whispers into your mouth, “if we….” 

One second, you’re both waiting, and then you’re both moving, crossing the space between you. The invisible line. 

The kiss is surprisingly tender. Yoongi moves delicately against your mouth, but the way you softly sigh and part your lips for him turns him feral, and soon you’re both gasping for air.

Yoongi breaks away first, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog of arousal that suddenly clouds his mind. The last thing he wants is Hobi mocking him for thinking with his dick again. 

He’s given him more than enough to laugh at over the years.

“Holy shit,” you pant, staring at him. “Did you… did you feel…?”

Yoongi nods, still hazy. He did feel something. Like sparks. Shooting up his arm. They’re still going, actually.

Oh, shit. Those fucking wonky power disrupters.

ZAP! 

Yoongi’s blasted off his feet. White beams crackle from the fingertips of the hand you’ve managed to free thanks to your dislocated shoulder. With a grin, you zap him again, hard enough to stun, and shake yourself free of the jacket. Another few zaps at your chains and you’re back on your feet just as Taehyung rushes through the door with a can of oil. 

“Found it, hyung!” he yells triumphantly, stopping short at the sight of Yoongi lying on the ground while you tower over him. “Oh. Shit.” 

The can goes flying as Taehyung hits the ground. Yoongi peers up at you blearily, still reeling from your attack. A halo of bright energy flows around your body as you gaze down at him, giving you an ethereal glow. His dazed mind thinks you look like an angel of death. A valkyrie, come to claim him at last.

He sighs as darkness steals him away. 

“Thank you for joining me today, hyungs. Sorry we couldn’t do this in my office, but it’s out of commission at the moment.” Jimin’s smile drips with charm as his holographic image flickers on Hobi’s console. 

“Still can’t get the blood stains out, huh?” Yoongi drawls through the speakers. He’d opted out of using Hobi’s holo-tech for today’s meeting. Typical analog Yoongi. Hobi leans back, letting his legs rest on the table in front of him in his command center. 

Jimin’s smile tightens at Yoongi’s question. “The rug’s just fine, thanks for asking, hyung. Anyway, I thought it was time to check in on your challenge and see how things are going. We should - will you please stop fiddling with that?”

The image of the handsome man in the three-piece suit stabilizes as he glares at someone out of view. “Sorry, Jimin-ssi,” a contrite voice apologizes.

“Hey Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi greets the younger man.

“Hi Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook trills merrily from somewhere off-screen beside Jimin.

“Quit fucking with my tech, Jungkook-ah,” Hobi growls in lieu of pleasantries. 

“Sorry, Hobi-hyung!” 

Jimin pinches his nose. “If you’re done, Jungkook, I’d like to get back to my meeting now?” 

“Yeah, can we please get on with this?” Yoongi replies agitatedly. Hobi’s not sure what’s more irritating, Yoongi’s voice or the meeting itself. 

He drums his fingers on the console, itching to get this over with. Vitality’s been a thorn in his side since the day she debuted as the Bureau of Technology and Superheroes’s latest super do-gooder. He should be plotting his next move against her. Instead, he’s stuck in this meeting. His mind wanders to his last attempt to defeat her, when she’d literally flipped the balance and taken him down so swiftly. He can still feel the heat of her thighs squeezing him as she’d rolled them over.…

“Hobi-hyung?”

Several seconds pass before Hobi realizes that Jimin’s image is staring at him. “Fuck, sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you agree.”

“Right. With…?”

“Jesus, will you stop playing with your gadgets and pay attention? Can’t you keep your hands off your toys for five fucking seconds?” Yoongi’s annoyed voice hisses over the comms. 

“Fuck off,” Hobi replies evenly. “I’m not playing with anything, I just drifted off while Jimin was nattering on.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Jimin’s smile finally slips from his face as he scowls into the holo-cam. “Anyway, if you’ll just pull up the Powerpoint presentation I emailed to you, we can continue.” 

Hobi raises a finger and Jin automatically loads the presentation on the main monitor of the command center. An image of Hobi and Yoongi glaring at each other fills the screen, along with the title “Dark Hobi vs Evil Yoongi: Progress Report.” 

“Oh god. Comic Sans? Really, Jimin?” 

Jimin ignores Hobi, clearing his throat officiously. “If you scroll to the first slide, you’ll see…” 

Jimin’s blathering fades into the background as Hobi swipes his finger in the air. Jin follows his movements, scrolling through the slides quickly. There are images of his last battle along with Yoongi’s in here. Each slide also contains Jimin's pompous commentary. Hobi rolls his eyes, flipping through faster. His friend is really milking this competition. 

Whatever keeps him out of Hobi’s hair is fine with him. 

Then he reaches the final slide. 

“What the fuck, Jimin?” 

Jimin breaks off, glancing into the holo-cam. “Hyung, what is it? I was in the middle of discussing - “

“I don’t care. You’re declaring Yoongi the winner so far?”

“Well, look at that.” Hobi’s eye twitches at how pleased Yoongi sounds.

“Hyung! Are you scrolling ahead?” Jimin’s hologram pouts. “You’re supposed to be following along with us. Do you have any idea how long it took me to put this together??”

“Two weeks,” Jungkook pipes up helpfully.

“KOOK-AH!” 

Hobi rubs his face. “Jimin-ah! I don’t care! I just don’t understand how you can say Yoongi’s in the lead. The winner’s the one who kills Vitality. Either she’s alive or she’s dead, there’s no in-between. So how can he be ahead if she’s still breathing?” 

“Well, hyung, if you had bothered to pay attention, I would’ve answered that for you on slide number 34, where I introduce the point system that I’ve - “

“Point system!” Hobi’s changed his mind. Jimin’s doing too much. “Are you serious? This is absolutely ridiculous, Jimin.” He rises to his feet and starts to pace, knowing the holo-cam will track the motion. “Powerpoint presentations and check-ins and now point systems? What a waste of time! I should be attacking Vitality right now!” 

“Excuse me? A waste of time?? How dare - “ 

“Then go.” 

Yoongi’s calm voice cuts into Jimin’s sputtering. He sounds completely unbothered.

Hobi stops pacing, peering into the cam as if it would show him Yoongi. “What did you say?” 

“I said, then go. Go fight Vitality again. No one cares what you do.” 

Red flashes across Hobi’s vision. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he seethes through his teeth, grinding them together. “I was talking to Jimin.” 

“On a conference call. So I’m here too, dipshit.” Yoongi’s voice is a little tighter now. He’s trying to maintain control. It only makes Hobi want to rip into him more. 

“I know you are, asshole, but I was clearly only addressing Jimin, so I don’t need to hear your opinion on the matter! So just shut the fuck up!” 

“Hyungs, can we please - “

“No, you shut the fuck up! Stop complaining and leave already, if this whole meeting is beneath you!” 

“There’s no need for the two of you - “

“I never said it was beneath me!“ 

“You didn’t have to say it, it was implied in your tone! It’s always implied in your tone, you always act like you’re superior to everyone else!” Yoongi’s yelling now, practically roaring over the comms. 

“I do not - “

“Yes you do! Look at the way you’re talking to Jimin! Fuck, look at the way you used to talk to me!”

“Fuck you!” Hobi slams his hands on the table. There’s a replying bang on the other end, like Yoongi’s also taking his anger out on something around him. “I never treated you badly! Never!” 

Jimin silently gazes into the holo-cam, eyes wide as he listens to both men panting. Hobi leans against the wall behind the table, head down as he closes his eyes. Yoongi’s fucking inferiority complex drove him crazy when they were together and it angers him even more now. He never understood how amazing he is. 

Was. How amazing he was. Now, he’s just another thorn in Hobi’s side. 

He really needs to do some pruning.

Jimin clears his throat again. “If the two of you are done…”

“Yeah. We’re done.” Yoongi spits. 

“Finished,” Hobi agrees with a sneer. “As is this conversation. Jimin, don’t waste another two weeks on more of this Powerpoint bullshit.” Jimin lets out a tiny ‘hey’ as Hobi raises his hand. “And don’t send me any more meeting invites. We’ll talk again when I’ve won.” He makes a fist, and Jin cuts the connection. Jimin’s hologram disappears. 

There’s a beat, and then Jin says, “So, that went well.”

“Shut it, Jin.” Hobi slums back into his chair. “Pull up the schematics for file #218. Let’s finalize this. I want to mobilize as soon as possible.” 

“Yes, sir.” Hobi appreciates the lack of pet names as his newest project loads on the monitor. Taking a deep breath, he forces his pulse to slow, trying his damnedest to push that meeting out of his thoughts. But no matter what he does, Yoongi’s mocking tone just keeps echoing in his ear. It’s still there two days later when Hobi boards his jet, on his way to enact his latest plan.

“No one cares what you do.”

He’ll fucking show him. Hobi’ll make Yoongi care, when he wins. Then he’ll make him pay.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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[sweetestofchaos]

Knock, Knock | L.JB x M.YG | One

🩸pairing: Jaebeom x Yoongi

genre: Fluff

🩸au: Soulmate AU, Smut, Vampire AU, MxM

word count: 1.5K

🩸warnings: No major warnings for now.

rating: Teen (will change later on)

It's time to call the young ones home, at last.

🩸a/n: I have a vague idea for this, so I'm just going with the flow. This chapter is just setting the tone and giving you some background on our little town and bloodlines. Support/drip/mdni divider made by @benkeibear

taglist: @theharrowing @minisugakoobies

previous🩸next🩸series masterlist

The Min and Jeon bloodline has stayed in the town of Linemell, now known as Pavv, for many, many generations. It wasn’t until recently (a mere two hundred years) that members of the family left to lay down roots in new parts of the world. The Lim Manor still stood at the top of the hill, surrounded by the forest and seemingly untouched by time. A real life scene out of a gothic romance novel. Since the younger bloodline has packed up and moved away, with nothing but old stories to weigh them down, the older members of the family worried.

Hidden beneath the homes of the first Min’s and Jeon, an archive is filled with first hand accounts of the past. Journals, pictures, love letters and more, are tucked away for safekeeping, kept neat and tidy as if pulled from the very day they were made. It is the elder’s job to keep the archive alive and pass down the secrets of the past.

Min Suyung and Jeon Jaesun sit across from each other in the archive with two glasses and a bottle of wine. Laid out before them is the Min and Jeon household’s family tree and on top of the hand drawn tree is the latest smartphone with all the pictures of their family members neatly organized in folders by generation. On the Min’s  family tree that is drawn in black, there is a small section to the left of the tree that branches off with red rose flowers encasing a single name.

Lim Jaebeom

From the roses around his name a vine shoots out and wraps around one of Min's family members.

Min Yoongi

On the Jeon’s family tree one name is circled multiple times in red.

Jeon Jungkook

Suyung stares down at the phone as it chimes with an alert and when she opens the message, a bright picture of her however many great-grandson greets her with that all familiar gummy smile. She takes a sharp inhale of breath and Jaesun’s eyes widen as he stares at the photo. On his own phone he opens the shared album of the Min’s from the 18th century and scrolls until blond hair catches his eyes. He taps the photo and sets his phone down beside Suyung’s. Together the two elders stare at the phone in silence. Two sets of cat eyes, two button noses, two strong jaws…

Suyung frowns at the black hair on her grandson’s head, it’s clearly hair dye. Other than the darker hair and metal hoops on the ears, her grandson, Yoongi looks just like he did many, many moons ago. Jaesun’s phone chimes with a new alert and when he opens it, his own great-grandson however far down the line, smiles in his photo. The Jeon’s are known for the doe eyes, it’s a dominant trait that is passed down, faithfully.

The elder Jeon doesn’t need to pull up his family's older portraits, he has a photogenic memory. The young man on his phone is a carbon copy of Jeon Jungkook from the past. His hair is a bit longer, his lip is pierced and there are many, many metal hoops and studs in his ears but there is no mistaking it. That is the Jeon Jungkook from the past.

Suyung swallows thickly as she pushes away from the table and Jaesun joins her, feeling his heartbeat speed up.

 It is time to call the young ones home at last.

Yoongi really, really did not want to visit his however many greats-grandmother. He had never meant the lady and from what he remembers his great grandmother telling him, the older side of his family was bat shit crazy. They were old money and never left the comfort of their homeland, a town called Pavv, that Yoongi has never heard of. Honestly the only reason Yoongi is going to see the old woman is because she had promised him a pretty large lump sum of money. She told him to think of it as an investment for his music career that he was trying to pursue. 

He is staying in South Korea with his friends Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin, and no they are not related as much as they lie and tell people they are cousins. The three had all meant at a club and the rest was history. Pretty much wherever Yoongi went he seemed to run into one of them. It seemed as though fate wanted them to be together, so Namjoon and Yoongi packed up their things and moved into Seokjin’s three bedroom apartment. 

Seokjin is older than Yoongi but not by much. He has a pretty chill and goofy personality, his laugh never fails to make those around him laugh as well. His wide shoulders make him look more imitating that he really was and if he isn’t smiling, forget about it. The man has a serious case of resting bitch face and well, so does Yoongi, so he doesn’t mind. Seokjin often dyes his hair purple, for whatever reason he hates his natural brown hair and Yoongi cannot fault him for it. His own naturally blond hair is a pain to deal with ‘cause everyone just stares and asks what hair dye he uses.

Namjoon is the youngest in the group of three and it is hard to treat him like a baby. Not only is he the thickest in the group, but he is a little more serious at times. He has a killer set of dimples that always makes Yoongi unable to tell him no. Namjoon is smart, extremely so. He was studying marine biology at the time that he meant Yoongi but has since switched his major to biochemistry. He dabbles in music and often helps Yoongi with his lyrics and beats. The kid has a good ear. Namjoon’s hair is always changing, currently it is cut close to his head with the sides shaved down.

Yoongi asks his grandmother if he can bring his friends with him since he doesn’t feel comfortable traveling alone but he doesn’t tell her that. She agrees, while stating that she has more than enough room to house him and his friends. So, the three young men take off to the town of Pavv….

The moment Jungkook’s extremely great-grandfather reaches out to him, he is packing his bags for the town of Pavv. He did a little research and it’s the town of vampires…or so the stories say. He invites his friends, Taehyung and Jimin to tag along since they don’t have much of anything else to do. And who doesn’t love adventure? Jungkook is the baby of his friend group and he loves it for the most part.

He can get away with a lot if he just blinks those big ol’ owl eyes and pouts. Jimin calls him a bunny ‘cause of the way his nose scrunches and Taehyung calls him Bambie. To which Junkook laughs ‘cause the last time he checked a doe and bunny do not have tattoos or piercings. Nor do they sing in a half assed rock band.

Jimin is the oldest but he only beats Taehyung by two months which he loves to brag about. His is a walking dream, with thick thighs and plush lips to match. His hair is usually dyed blond or a lighter shade of brown, he likes to look soft. Though currently his hair is pink since he lost a bet with Taehyung. Jimin is what Jungkook likes to think of as in tune with himself. Jimin can pull off any look, no matter the style. Clothing is just fabric to Jimin, he doesn’t care if it is meant for women or men. If he likes it he will wear it.

He is confident and shy all at once, it always makes Jungkook dizzy how quickly Jimin can switch from one to the other. Jungkook was a victim of Jimin’s duality when he first met him. Jimin had been too worried about his phone conversation and crashed into Jungkook who had just gotten a fresh cup of hot coffee. Jimin was ready to snap but the moment he saw Jungkook’s watery eyes, he switched up and cooed about being sorry. He offered to buy Jungkook a better coffee from a cafe he liked and to replace his shirt as well as have it dry cleaned.

Taehyung is the middle child, as Jungkook’s mother likes to call him. He is an old soul trapped in a young body and he makes all the older folk swoon hard. It is pretty funny to see Taehyung dancing with someone’s grandma or helping an older man cross the street. He has this large smile that isn’t standard, it’s wide and rectangle, boxy. His eyes are warm and deep, filled with an old time wonder as he looks at the world around him.

Taehyung is studying to become an artist. He can paint like no other and that’s how he and Jungkook first became friends. They got dragged to a sip and paint. Somehow they got paired together and Taehyung’s portrait of Jungkook is still hanging up in his apartment to this day.

Jungkook being the nerd that he is, looks into Pavv before they all leave and he finds out that the Jeon’s hold a lot of power in the town. He shares his findings with his friends and he wonders what else he will find out about his bloodline…

[btsfanficsbykj]

Tickets To Paradise - Chapter 4

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

Relationships: BTS ensemble and Fem!Reader

Summary: The concert is here!!

Warnings: lots of people, holy crap

Word Count: 2645

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I would never forget the immense power of the concert. The speakers were so loud, the vibrations shook my chest and radiated down through my limbs, leaving a feeling of euphoria and otherworldliness.

The multitude lifted in welcome the instant the boys entered the stage. Smurf and I were pushed up to the barricade as fans moved as close as they could. We grabbed each other and screamed out loud, waving our light sticks and phones, instantly swept up in the utter adoration of those seven precious men.

It felt totally surreal, almost dream-like. The colors of the ocean from the ARMY bombs, the answering calls of the audience as the boys teased and sang. The familiar songs took up a place in my heart, bubbling to the surface in the form of joyful, agonizing tears. Smurf bounced and sang next to me, pouring her own level of devotion, waving her stick, pressed up against the barricade.

During “Fake Love”, Yoongi came up right in front of us and raised his arms, a huge gummy smile spreading across his face when the audience responded with screams and arms waving back. He was decked out in white skinny jeans, converse, and a loose black t-shirt sporting the words “CHILL” across the chest in white font. Grinning widely, he lifted the mic to his face and paused, eyes directly on me.

I froze mid bounce, light stick raised, eyes wide. 

Yoongi’s eyes flicked down my form to the barricade and back up, tongue flicking over his lower lip, what , then over to Smurf, his mouth lifting in a tilted smirk. Continuing the song with the other members, he pointed a bejeweled hand at Smurf’s shoulder and nodded. “Nice!” he mouthed at us. Her shoulder was shimmering under the blacklights, the UV ink showing bright along the edges of the flowers and highlighting the water droplets and waves.

Smurf laughed and bounced, waving her outstretched hands up at him, screaming, “She did it!! She did it!!”

Yoongi laughed and his brows furrowed in confusion, pushing his black hair away from his face. I grinned and pointed to her tattoo, then pointed to myself. “I did it!!”

“You did it??” he asked into the mic, to my utter shock, pointing to the tattoo and then at me. His question bounced out of the speakers and I could feel my face burn. 

“Eh?” came a response from one of the others. Namjoon came over while the rest of the boys started chasing each other around with water bottles, laughing like adorable idiots. How they managed to keep singing in tune was beyond me and incredibly impressive.

Yoongi said something in Korean in a cute, excited voice and pointed to Smurf and I. Namjoon peeked over Yoongi’s shoulder and his eyes lit up. 

“Wow!” his low voice echoed into the arena. Eyes wide and filled with curiosity, the clumsy goof leaned over the edge of the stage to get closer. “That’s so cool!!” he exclaimed. Yoongi exclaimed in a fond, exasperated voice as he pulled Namjoon away, eyes still fixed on us, amused, like he was used to pulling Namjoon from danger on a regular basis.

The fans around us started scooching closer, straining to see what the two were looking at. There were a lot of wows and exclamations in English and a few other languages I didn’t recognize. Smurf and I smiled so wide, our bellies fluttering at the unexpected attention.

“Holy shit, you did that??” 

My attention was brought back up to the stage, Yoongi still staring with those cat-like eyes, Namjoon pointing gleefully at us. 

“Sorry, what?” I laughed, yelling as loud as I could, tilting my right ear towards him.

The commotion caught the attention of Jimin and Taehyung, bringing them over to sprinkle their elders with the rest of their water. 

“You did that? You tattooed her?” Namjoon spoke into the mic, a huge smile of awe on his face, the audience screaming. I suddenly remembered Namjoon’s appreciation for the arts and grinned even wider. Jimin’s face popped up like a meerkat behind Yoongi and Tae peeked around Namjoon’s wide shoulder. Their eyes widened and they both went “Whaaa!”

“Oh, yeah!” I responded, their eyes switching fast to me. My heart dropped into my stomach. Oh my god , they had such piercing gazes . “I designed it and tattooed her!” I shouted, nodding, giving them two thumbs up, well one and half considering my one hand held my light stick. My smile was starting to make my cheeks hurt.

Namjoon, Jimin, and Tae all exclaimed, impressed and excited, for some reason I couldn't fathom, but I laughed and nodded back with a huge grin.

Jin called over to them, laughing as he waved them back. The four smiled at us and gave us finger hearts, bouncing and pointing at the tattoo and mouthing “That’s so cool, great job!” before returning to the middle of the stage to continue their song and dance. 

Smurf and I looked at each other and screamed, free hands linking as we bounced in ecstatic excitement over what had just happened. Holy fuck, Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon had just lost their collective shit over my work. And Tae and Jimin had said it was so good!! I needed a drink! 

I returned my attention to the group and blushed to the roots of my hair. The four wore huge, adoring smiles on their faces as they watched us, spinning and dancing to the beat.

~~~~~~

After the next few songs, the boys headed backstage during intermission to take a much needed break. They took their turns running back to the main stage from the peninsula. Namjoon jogged next to Jungkook, whispering something in his ear, and pointed in our direction. Jungkook perked up and looked over at us, eyes widening adorably, bunny teeth showing in a big smile. Namjoon glanced over and nodded at us, lifting his mic in salute as they all jogged to the backstage and I swear I may have peed a little.

The audience cheered for a bit, then settled down as the music quieted and a music video cued up on the screen. 

Smurf and I waited for the crowd to step back to their seats for a cool down before we slumped down into our own, panting and pushing our sweaty hair back from our faces.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, sipping on my water bottle, eyes glued onto the entrance to the stage where the boys had disappeared.

“I don’t even know! I’m on cloud nine, holy shit, they noticed my tattoo!! ” 

I glanced sideways at her and nearly choked. The bitch was totally blissed out, eyes glazed over, chest heaving, hands waving lazily at her face. The teenage girl next to her squealed and they started a convo on how amazing it was to be noticed and how incredible the tattoo was.

My attention drifted, heartbeat slowing. Cold air was blasted into the arena and I sighed in relief. Under all the lights and moving bodies, the heat had spiked something awful. I don’t know how the guys handled it with the leather pants and multiple layers. Oh, maybe we’ll get some leather pants action... 

Movement caught my eye from the side of the massive screen and I guffawed out a cackle.

Jungkook’s adorable face was peeking out, Jimin’s cute little face just below him. They looked cartoon-like, eyes wide, mouths moving as they talked to each other. The two were so tiny compared to the behemoth screen, I’m surprised I even caught them.

But my heart stopped when I realized they were gesturing in our direction. Jungkook looked like a kid at Christmas, until he was pulled backstage, Jimin jerking back soon after. 

I could only stare, cold butterflies traveling my whole body. What on earth? Did they really like my work that much?

~~~~~~

Soon after, the concert started up again and the place exploded. The boys returned with gusto; new outfits, lethal hip thrusts, precious finger hearts, beautiful passionate singing, hardcore rap. It proceeded to blow us all away again. 

What really stole my heart, and confused the hell out of me , was that the boys seemed to steer more towards our part of the stage. I don’t know if I was imagining it, but now all of them seemed transfixed by Smurf’s tattoo, and consequently, us . While not entirely ignoring the other tens of thousands of fans, within the next hour and a half, each of the members popped up in front of us and showed us special attention. 

Jimin sang “Serendipity” to us (oh my god ), Jin blew us kisses and bowed and giggled his precious laugh, Namjoon nodded and winked and spoke words of encouragement, Jungkook sang Euphoria our way, Yoongi grinned and brought the crowd’s attention to the tattoo ( holy shit, they showed it on the big screen!! ), Hobi danced and sent his blinding sunshine smile, Tae made adorable silly faces ending with his darling boxy grin. 

My heart nearly exploded each time. I blew kisses, sang, danced, and laughed right along with them, smiling at their delighted faces. And Smurf did her own thing right beside me, returning all the love and admiration.

~~~~~~~

The energy from the crowd was breathtaking as the end of the concert drew nearer. The lyrics poured flawlessly into the crowd and the crowd brought it right back. The vibrations ebbed down into the foundation of the stadium until the entire place rang with such joy and adoration that I felt lighter than air.

The finale was incredible. Lights softened, lasers disappeared, loud booming bass settled. The entire place turned into a sea of purple as “We Are Bulletproof: Eternal” began over the speakers. The audience screamed in response, quieting down to sing along with the boys as they serenaded us with their love song to their beloved ARMYs.

Smurf and I swayed along with the music, tears streaming down our cheeks, faces lifted up to watch the Bangtan Boys sing their exhausted hearts out. 

Between saying goodbye and pouring their love into the crowd, the boys snuck in their own farewell gestures to Smurf and I. 

Jimin and Jungkook blew us a kiss, which we returned. Jin and Tae gave us a heart with their cupped hands, Smurf and I making our own heart in return. Namjoon pressed both hands to his chest and smiled his dimply smile at us, which we blushed and blew kisses back at. Which of course made him duck his head and blush. Yoongi tipped his water bottle our way and smiled a soft gummy smile as we tipped invisible shot glasses in his direction in cheers and pretended to down them in one shot. Hobi actually knelt down at the edge of the stage and grabbed my hand over the barricade and kissed the back of it. I nearly went deaf at the screams.

~~~~~~~~~

Our ears rang and our eyes watered as we collapsed down into our seats when the show ended. The spotlights dimmed as the overhead lights popped on, flooding the stadium in bright light once again. 

People cheered as they slowly made their way out, kids singing and laughing, everyone chattering and showing their friends their phones and reliving the incredible experience. 

Smurf and I sat there, eyes dazed, staring at the stage without really seeing it. A stupid smile fixed itself on our faces and we giggled breathy laughs in disbelief.

“Holy.”

“Shitballs.” Smurf finished, pushing back her mess of dark curls, hair spray be damned at this point, before taking a huge gulp of water. 

“Did… did that really happen?” I asked, voice hoarse from the singing and screaming and shouting, pushing back my own mess of strands. 

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to process Namjoon almost falling on top of us.” We both burst into laughter, then whined when our throats twinged in protest. 

“Fuck, cough drops. Where are the cough drops?” Smurf dropped her light stick in my lap as she dove into her bag, my eyes blinking tiredly as the adrenaline slowly seeped out of my system. 

We sat there, smiling as people stopped to shake our hands and laugh and squeal, admiring the tattoo and asking for pictures. We were floored but readily accepted, posing with a bunch of people like we were celebrities or something. Even doing stupid poses and acting like morons, to the glee of the everyone. We even got huge hugs from a few of the friends we had made while waiting in line, bouncing and laughing as we relived what had happened with the boys. 

After an hour and a half, the place was mostly cleared out. The last people wanting pictures with us waved goodbye and we collapsed back in our seats. 

“God, my legs are killing me. Thank god we have the day off tomorrow,” I moaned, stretching out my legs in front of me, wiggling my sore toes in my flats. 

“Mm, totally. I don’t wanna move. Mooooom, carry meeeee,” Smurf whined, nuzzling her head into my shoulder.

“Good lordt, woman, I can barely carry my own ass, how am I supposed to carry you??”

Smurf’s scathing retort was cut short by a large shadow falling over us. Looking up, we were surprised to see one of the beefy security dudes standing there, hands on hips.

“Ladies, you need to come with me,” he said in a deep voice, face tense, non negotiable.

“Oh shit,” Smurf whispered, staring up at the guy.

I looked around quickly. “Uh, shit, sorry, did we do something wrong?” I asked, starting to panic. “Were we not supposed to take pictures with all those people?”

The guy gave me a once over, making me a bit nauseous, and his mouth tightened. “Just come with me.”

I glanced at Smurf, her eyes widening at me in worry. We obeyed, quietly gathering our things and stuffing them into our bags. Hefting them onto our backs, we quietly followed the stranger, my eyes hyper focused on the sleek, black firearm tucked into its holster on the guy’s hip.

Oh my god, we are in some deep shit…

~~~~~~

The security officer took us around the stage to a small door leading back into a long hallway running parallel to the main stage. The floor was shiny grey, walls a comforting blue as we were led down, doors to our left were labeled “Dressing Room” with a number assigned to each one. It seemed almost fancy, with the soft lighting, white door frames, silver door knobs. A few people milled about, some with headsets and clipboards, some with phones attached to their ears. They all looked exhausted and ready to call it a night.

We were led past a pair of restrooms and a loading dock to a doorway marked “Stairs”. Security Guy paused in front of it and turned to us. I flinched back a step, breath caught in my throat.

But his frosty gaze melted into a smile and he released the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry about that. I had to go by the books to get you ladies back here before I could tell you what was really going on.”

Smurf tensed, wary as she watched him closely. “So, what’s going on?”

“I was asked by Namjoon to bring you up to the catering room. The guys would like to have a word. It will be about another…. “ He paused and glanced down at his Apple watch. “About another 45 minutes til they’re finished with their meet and greets. Then they’ll most likely want to shower. But they will have your full attention afterwards.”

I blinked. Then blinked again.

“I’m sorry, what? ”

He smiled knowingly.

“BTS would like to have a private word with you and your friend. Do you accept?”

[suprsticious]

*.    𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒.

hyeon kim. agenderflux. they/them & he/him. 29/75. familiar ( black cat ). min yoongi.

about.

reverie.

visuals.

part of crescentcovefm​.

[haven-raven012591]

Familiar and New

Pairing: Familiar! Yoongi X OC Witch! Lily

Warning: Cursing, violence, forced sexual situations, Cliff Hanger!

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 2.5 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

Yoongi curled up looking out of the window. "Lily." Yoongi breathed as he closed his eyes. He reached out and hit a wall. "No." Yoongi breathed. He heard heals and shut his eyes thinking about Lily. "Yoon?" Jessica called. He didn't move hoping she'd leave. "I know you're awake, I felt your magic reaching for your witches." Jessica said. She sat on the bed and moved his hair. On reflex he grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch me." Yoongi snapped. She giggled and ran her other hand over his thigh. "You use to like it." Jessica said. He moved away looking at her coldly.

"Not anymore." Yoongi growled. "Does she pet you, pretty kitty?" Jessica asked. His eyes went green and he growled. His ears went back and she smiled. "I'm not an animal!" Yoongi growled. "Oh no, then why are you growling like one, why do you have ears and a tail!" Jessica said. "I am a familiar!" Yoongi said proudly. Jessica laughed and moved onto the bed more. "You're still a pretty kitty." Jessica said.

Yoongi's eyes went wide then he slowly started to relax. The air around him smelt amazing and his body slowly became aware of Jessica. "Tell me Yoon, does she touch you like I did?" Jessica asked. "No." Yoongi breathed. Jessica ran her finger tips down his leg. He shook his head and growled his mind clearing for a second. "Don't touch me!" Yoongi yelled. She laughed as she flipped her hair. His nose went crazy and then he groaned. "Jess, stop...please." Yoongi breathed. She leaned him back and he groaned louder as she slid between his legs. "Come on Yoon kiss me like you use too." Jessica purred in his ear.

He shoved her away and the bottle broke as she dropped it. "You bitch!" Yoongi roared and pinned her down. His eyes bright green now looked into hers. "Tell me what she is baby." Jessica smirked. Yoongi leaned down. "When I move you'd better run if I catch you I'll rip your throat out!" Yoongi snarled in her ear. He moved and she ran for the door.

He picked up a lose stone and threw it through the window letting in fresh air. His head throbbed and he groaned. He heard the door open and Katie walked in smiling. "Pheromones, she's smart." Katie said. Yoongi growled and looked at her. "Get out!" Yoongi roared. Katie laughed and went to the little window fixing it with magic. Yoongi grabbed her and threw her onto the bed pinning her down. "Get off me!" Katie screamed. John ran in and threw Yoongi back with a spell holding him against the wall while they got out.

"Fucking animal!" Katie said. "Did he hurt you, did he mark you?" John asked. "No baby just scared me." Katie said. John kissed her tenderly. "How is anyone attracted to that?!" Katie asked. John laughed and took her hand. "I don't know but I do know that Jessica has a lot to answer for!" John said. They walked off leaving the window to Yoongi's cell open. He stuck his nose out of it breathing in fresh air.

He slid down the wall and looked at his tail. "Animal." Yoongi breathed.

Lily stood in her apartment and went to Yoongi's room. "Why couldn't I have kissed you when I saw that strand?" Lily breathed. Tears hit the carpet as she leaned against Yoongi's door her forehead on the smooth wood. "Why am I not surprised you're here?" Taehyung asked. She laughed bitterly and looked at him. "Help me find him Taehyung, I need to tell him how I feel." Lily said. "Why are you standing buy his door, go in." Taehyung said. She put a shaking hand on the handle finding it locked. "I can't he locked it." Lily said. "You can open a simple lock." Jungkook said. She turned as her eyes went wide. "Is Jin ok, oh god Tae did I hurt him?" Lily asked suddenly remembering what happened.

Tae put his hands on her shoulders. "Jin-hyung is fine, he'll be sore but otherwise ok." Taehyung said smiling. "I'm a monster." Lily breathed. Tae laughed and lifted her chin. "You're not a monster." Taehyung said. "I hurt him, I could've killed him Tae!" Lily said. "I wouldn't have let that happen." Jungkook said. She looked at him and sighed. "Would you have hurt me?" Lily asked. Jungkook blinked and went to her. "Of course not!" Jungkook said. He hugged her and she let tears go.

"I hurt Jin and all he did was try to help me, I hurt Yoongi by butting into his past, all I do is hurt people." Lily sobbed. "Stop it!" Jungkook said and lifted her head. She looked into ice blue eyes. "Kook?" Lily breathed. "You helped Yoongi-hyung, what you didn't see was what she did to him after that." Jungkook said. She looked away then back at him. "Show me." Lily said firmly.

Taehyung went to them. "Alright, but at the witches council house it's safer." Taehyung said. She nodded and went to the door. "Allow me in Yoongi." Lily breathed. The door opened and she walked into the room. Jungkook stepped into the room and the energy threw him into the wall. Lily turned and the door slammed shut. "Not good." Jungkook said. Lily looked around to see that the room was warm. It was like Yoongi was with her and it was nice.

"Lily." Taehyung called. "I'm ok just give me a minute." Lily said. She sat on the bed as she closed her eyes licking her lips. "Ok Yoongi I'm here, now why am I here?" Lily asked. A warmth washed over her and she sighed. She laid down and breathed in his scent seeing a piece of paper sticking out of his book. The door opened and she walked out holding onto a box. "Lily are you ok?" Taehyung asked. "No." Lily said.

"What's happened?" Jungkook asked. "I have a feeling this is going to hurt him worse than me." Lily said. "Why?" Namjoon asked. "Just this horrible feeling." Lily said. She held the box to her chest. "What's that?" Jungkook asked. "Something he bought for me." Lily whispered. "Lily." Jungkook said. She looked up and he went flying. "Oh god, Jungkook!" Lily said and ran to him dropping the box. "Are you ok, I'm so sorry." Lily breathed.

He hugged her and she broke down holding onto him. "Shh I'm ok please don't cry anymore." Jungkook whispered. "I feel so lonely." Lily sobbed. "Shh I'm here and so is everyone else." Jungkook said. "He's right, I came to get you because we have more information about Yoongi-Hyung." Namjoon said. Taehyung picked up the box and Jungkook helped Lily up.

"Let's get you back to the council house it's better if you stay there." Namjoon said. "I'm staying here I need to be here." Lily said. "Please stay there until we find him, it's so much safer." Namjoon said. "This is my home Namjoon, I need to be here." Lily said. Just then a loud almost sonic boom happened. "We need to go." Namjoon said. Lily's eyes went white and she fell into Jungkook's arms just as Taehyung fell into Namjoons. "What's going on?" Jungkook asked. He and Namjoon locked eyes. "Come help me with a protection spell." Namjoon said as he laid Taehyung in the hall beside Lily.

@alternateafterthought ​ @demonslunacy ​ @scuzmunkie ​ @alexnine @dolphinpink310 @soulofaravenheartofawolf @lauri3strode ​ @adriennegabriella ​ @ladylucksposts ​ @briqueenofthenorth ​ @2sweetqueen ​ @meremaidqueen ​ @susanleann1 ​ @bjjackson38 @ariana-winchester95 ​ @loveyoongles

[yoongsisbae]

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder | MYG

Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. 

Dystopian Fantasy AU. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi x reader

Warning: 18+ adult themes, dystopian futuristic society (IS IT THO?), graphic violence against women, animal cruelty, attempted SA, mention of suicide, police brutality, angst, sex so soft and sweet and full of consent

Word Count: 9.1k

---

“It’s her,” they said. Whispers in the crowd, repeating the phrase to one another, like a wave of hope rippling over their bodies, energizing their fight.

It was true. She was there, and the crowd could feel her power, her anger, forged from pain. Because it was their anger too. It was familiar, it was a friend reaching over their shoulder and telling them, ‘It will be okay. I’m here now. You don’t have to fight alone. You won’t lose this time, because you have me now.’ 

The rumors spread far, even the law-forcers knew of her. They knew of her as a myth, a story the people would tell to ease the pain of their subjugation. An empty promise shouted at the law-forcers, that one day they’ll be sorry, that one day victory won’t be theirs to take. She was the woman with the black cat on her shoulder. One look into those feline eyes and judgment is swift. 

Some believed the cat is a creature from the underworld. The beast heard the people’s cries and clawed its way up into this world, collecting souls of abusers and assaulters, dragging them back down to its dark home. Some people believe the cat is part of her, she wields and controls the beast like a limb, that she isn’t human, but an angel, the savior of the people.

But she is neither and the cat is neither. She is like them. Born without wealth, without love, abandoned and alone, she grew up too quickly. A sad story told a million different ways by a million different girls. She lived her life as they all did, she worked and worked and worked and worked, and lived. She didn’t want anything more but to live...

You didn’t want anything more but to live, and perhaps it was by some divine intervention, you don’t know, that you crossed paths with a lonely black cat, so small and broken, so desperate to survive like you. You freed him and in ways you could not imagine, he freed you.

---

From the crowd of bodies, the woman with the black cat on her shoulder stepped to the front. Her clothes were black, pants torn and patched, sewn back stronger. A tight shirt so they made no mistake, it was a woman under that mask. Black cloth covering her face and hair, the amount of her hair hidden under her hood. But they could still see her eyes, accentuated by black eyeliner and hatred. And on her shoulder, a large black cat, long wild hair to match its wild eyes. 

The law-forcers stood in a line, guns and shields ready. The angry crowd had nothing but hope now. 

The law-forcers didn’t really believe it was her, looking down at her still. Any woman could find a black cat and pretend. They saw her as a martyr, a faker, their trigger fingers itching to make an example of her.

The cat hissed, mouth stretched wide open and long fangs displayed. The hiss was loud and piercing and the law-forcers flinched, embarrassingly reacting. The crowd jeered and laughed and the law-forcers pointed their guns at the black cat, growing in anger for being made fools. 

You whisper to your companion to wait. Let them attack first. Show the world the true aggressor before them. 

You waited because you knew the beast on your shoulder was a magical being. And the thing about living magic in a world filled with human creation, is that magic and technology reacted like oil and water, coexisting but unable to intermix, and magic was by far the stronger force. 

Red lasers land on you and your companion, but you stubbornly stand tall and the crowd mirrors your actions. The cat growls low and menacing and hisses again. It only took one scared threatened man, one trigger happy finger, and then it was all over...for them.

-

A gun shot rang out, and smoke appears where the black cat on the woman’s shoulder stood, weaving and twisting in the air like black rivers, dispersing and covering the empty zone between the crowd and the law-forcers. Bullets entered the smoke and the magical force created a barrier, stopping them in midair. That is when they all knew, they knew she was not just a myth.

As quickly as the magic appeared, electricity disappeared. The energy sent a shockwave across devices. Cameras and lights, the law-forcers military grade machinery, and all that expensive technology the law-forcers depended on broke and malfunctioned. Precious moments without their weapons that give a perfect window of attack. 

The crowd stands transfixed and the woman screams, loud and deep within her gut…

A roar. 

The black cat appears and reappears, so quickly it’s impossible to follow the cat’s path. Fangs piercing through skin and muscle of the men paid to silence the people’s cries, now crying for help, crying in pain as sharp claws rip through kevlar and tear the flesh from their bones. She runs towards them without fear. That's what the crowd sees, they don't witness her fear of losing what she loves most that carries her feet forward. And then the crowd begins to run forward too, headed straight towards men with bullets ready to fire. 

It’s chaos. 

---

“Dinner’s ready.”

His voice was soft and calming but you startle awake. You don’t mean to, you’re just always on alert and so anxious these days. 

His hand moves from your back to your shoulder, fingers pushing into your tight muscles. His way of telling you to relax. You place your hand over his, pulling him into bed. You’re so tired, he must be too. You wish he wouldn’t worry over you, you could have heated some left overs up instead.

The news plays loud on your home's display screen, events of afternoon recorded right before the blackout replay from many different angles. You listen to the cheers of your arrival, inwardly groaning.

Tonight it’s going to get worse, you’ve bruised the egos of the elite, and men like that always lash out in anger, unable to take a loss so great.

“We should go out tonight, just in case,” you sigh. Your companion doesn’t speak, he’s tired. He fought so hard. And he might have to do it again. But this is the life you both chose. Somehow, it has become this, nights upon nights of this. You wonder, if others had this kind of power, would they be able to sleep at night knowing they could have done something more, or would they be like you?

It wasn’t always like this. Before you were a fighter of the system, you were a victim of the system.

Like the night your companion, Yoongi, showed you what he truly was.

---

“Sweet kitty.” He purrs loudly while he eats, broken purrs between grumbles as he devours his dinner. The sight makes you laugh as he eats the meat leftover from your lunch. He waits for you, always in the same spot. The black cat you saved has taken to following you from work to your home at night. Every night you try to coax him into your house, but he never does decide to join you. He’s a cat of the streets.

You click your tongue softly as his fluffy tail wraps around your calf. Using two fingers, you run them along the cat’s back as he eats. “I have to get going, kitty, sorry for making you wait,” you muse, scratching behind the cat’s ears as he finishes. It’s later than you usually leave. Hours at the warehouse seemed to stretch longer and longer these days. 

You move quickly and quietly, kept your purse tight to your side. You walked behind restaurants, away from drunken men and street girls that took over busy streets at night. Walking these dark alleys alone was daunting, but better than dealing with confrontation and a quicker route. And you had kitty. The animal gracefully walks next to you, happily bouncing along with his tail held upright. You somehow felt safer walking with the tiny street cat.

Age thirteen was the first time you encountered the wandering eyes of strangers, walking the district’s marketplace with your friends from the learning center. Three teenage girls enduring the catcalls of grown men, following you for blocks. You knew the feeling of someone watching you all too well, it was the same feeling you felt tonight.

You stop and bend down, petting kitty, cooing at how cute he looks when he stretches his neck towards you and in the corner of your eye, you noticed them, two men in the shadows following close behind you. There is no safety at night for a woman in this world. You learned that not this night, but you felt the fear of your reality in waves, stronger than any night before.

Standing up again, you ignored them and kept your pace. You were too scared to run. Running escalated things. You learned not to do such things. Once you ran they would chase, they could catch you, they would hurt you. And you knew you couldn’t fight two and win, you weren’t confident in one. You fiddle with your e-bracelet. You could signal an emergency, but the law-forcers took hours to come to this part of town, even as attacks continue to escalate, you knew they wouldn’t save you.

Kitty meows next to you. He meows, he meows, did kitty notice them too? “I know,” you whisper.

You think if you keep this pace, you can make it past the corner, and run then, hide yourself in the crowd. But like you, it was not the first time for these men either. Experienced predators, they noticed your hunched shoulders, the concentrated steps slowly escalating. They attacked.

Dirty hands grab at your body, your hair, yanking you backwards into pavement. It was too quick, too forceful. 

You fought, you fought hard, with everything you had. You kicked and you screamed, and when fingers covered your screams you cried, when stronger arms and legs kicked back and shoved you back down, you pulled your limbs tightly together, protecting what they wanted from you.

You tasted your own blood, felt the sting of cuts and bruises on your body just formed and yet you still fought, unwilling to let them have any of you.

Acting on instinct to protect yourself until your legs were ripped open and your arms were held down and you retreated into your mind, thinking of what you could have done to stop this outcome, was there anything, one small difference, that could have changed everything? You were asking yourself these questions when the heaviness lessened, and your voice was no longer the only screams in the night. 

You lifted your head at a terrifying sight. Limbs reacting quickly to move away from the bloodshed. You reminded yourself to breathe.

Breathe out. You looked down at the scene, the two assaulters were dead, their bodies covered in scratches. 

Breathe in. And another man, black hair wild and covering his eyes. Hands red, covered in blood that wasn’t his. 

Breathe out. He walks closer to you, bends down, covers your bruised cheek with his bloody hand. Street lights flicker and static electricity stings you at his touch, but you don’t flinch away, feeling a familiarity that didn’t frighten you. 

Breathe in. Somehow you knew the most improbable situation was what this was, you knew what he was.

Breathe out. “Kitty?”

Even with all your breathing, you still passed out at the revelation.

---

You sit straight up, yelping, breathing eratic.

‘What's this?’ You stare at napkins and plastic bags, the trash falling away from your body. You're outside on your porch. Your purse had been underneath your head.

“Ow.” Your ribs hurt, your legs hurt, your arms hurt, your temples hurt. You run your tongue over your dry lips, over a cut and wince. Your bracelet beeps. You’re late for work.

You didn’t have time to think about last night until lunch time. Unable to make food, you stood in line to pay for lunch. Waiting for your turn in line, you listened to today’s gossip. The women of the warehouse discussed in hushed voices last night's murder. “An animal attack, they think.” “What kind of animal could do such a thing?” “Not too far from here at all, two men.” “Men?!” “From the Financial District at that.” “No CCTV either. It made the trending headlines this time.” “Maybe now they’ll do something about the attacks.” “Y/n, what happened to your face?”

“Went drinking last night, went home with the wrong one.” you mutter, running your fingers over the cut on your eyebrow.

The women look over at you with sympathetic eyes, “Please, y/n, my nephew is a good one, I wish you would give him a chance,” your coworker says, a lovely old woman who treats you like a daughter. 

“You didn't met him in VR first?! They have apps now to vet men like that,” another says in an accusing tone, “I would never.”

“Men can still pay to scrub that info from their V life,” the older woman says, rolling her eyes.

You wrap your leftovers in a napkin, pocketing the food. “I don’t have time to take care of a man, sorry Auntie!” Hugging her goodbye, you try not to wince when your ribs touch.

You head back to work, lost in your thoughts, piecing together what your mind allowed you to remember from trauma of last night.

After work you wait at your usual spot, clicking your tongue, but the black cat doesn’t come.

So you wait stubbornly, until it becomes even later than the night before. You check behind trash cans and old boxes, huffing. You were so certain you saw him in the morning, scampering away from you as you woke. Where is he now? You're certain you remembered the events of last night correctly, you're sure of it...aren't you?

Your usual route has been taped off, now a crime scene, so you’re forced to walk through the crowds, weaving through drunken bodies.

Drunken men won’t leave you alone, especially one, even when you tell him off, even when you push him away, he jeers and makes fun of your bruises.

“Looks like someone already taught you a lesson on manners. Didn’t you learn anything?” he slurs, following after you.

You turn down a deserted alleyway and feel small pads hit your shoulder, the warmth of a large cat pressing down onto your back, fur ticking your cheek. You reach up to steady the cat's body, pulling him into a protective embrace close to your chest. The black cat purrs as you stand stunned, looking down at the black cat. “When did you get so big?”

The man takes a swaying step forward and the cat hisses and swats a large paw in his direction, making the man flinch back, chuckling in his drunkenness.

“Leave me alone.” 

He’s too drunk, eyes glazed over, unwilling to stop now that it’s started. He lunges forward and the cat jumps out of your hands, claws aimed at the drunken man’s face. He screams as you attack as well, pushing him away as hard as you can, anger overtaking you. You don’t feel remorse as he hits the ground with a thud, blood pooling around his head, just stunned that it actually worked.

The crowd hears the commotion, men begin to head towards your location. Your heartrate spikes, preparing yourself to run, but instead someone pulls you into a hug, concealing you in the shadows, lifting you into his arms easily instead.

You’re both gone before anyone can reach you, left only to look at the drunken man, now dead.

A piercing scream echoes, but you’re already so far away. He holds you in his arms, moving across roofs with agility like you’ve never seen before. You kept your head buried in his shoulder until he landed in front of your doorstep. Placing you down, your legs buckle once they touch the ground, unable to stop yourself from falling into his arms.

You apologize, searching for your keys as he holds you upright. When you finally unlock your door he turns to leave. Just like that. No!

You find his hand, “Please don’t go, please.”

Smoke appears like a gust of wind, black and thick, and the hand you held evaporated in your palm as you coughed. When the smoke clears, a small figure stood, a cat with wild hair, his back towards you. The black cat looked over its shoulder, green eyes piercing yours.

You held in your gasp, and bent down, bruised knees hitting hard ground.

Reaching a shaky arm towards the cat, he stills. You hold your breath petting soft fur, hands delicately lifting his body into your arms. You couldn’t help the tears escaping, the wetness falling onto his soft hairs.

“I’ll stay out here then.” You whisper into fur, body shaking.

A meow erupts from the cat in protest.

For the second time you fell asleep on your front porch, for the second night you watched a man die and felt no remorse.

---

The next day at work the second murder was all your coworkers could talk about. Trending reports of another slashed bloody, a dead man found blocks away from your own warehouse. The news had trended statewide too, the headline was too juicy, too scandalous; a tourist visiting the labor district, brutally murdered on the night strip, presumably by a prostitute, a dirty woman! He was a father, a leader in the community, a good man!

Fuck him. You kept your head down and worked and didn’t entertain their gossiping. You were on edge all day until you stepped out of work and a familiar feline stared up at you, tail swishing back and forth.

You bent down and wrapped your arms underneath his fluffy belly, pulling him close to you, head nuzzling his furry body. He wiggled in your embrace but did not try to leave, paws instead reaching for your shirt and eventually jumping onto your shoulder. 

That’s how your walks went from then on. You talked to him like always, but now with the understanding that he really knew the words you spoke. He never changed back into the man who helped you, and he always jumped off your shoulder before you could walk inside.

“Please come in, please.” you always said.

But he didn’t, he wouldn’t. ‘Stubborn kitty,’ you thought, and your heart hurt.

-

One night, instead of going home after work, you went dancing. 

“Meow.”

“Is it just me, or is that stray following us?”

“Just you,” you joke, giving your date a small unconvincing smile.

You finally agreed to go out on a date with your coworker’s nephew, Hoseok. “Maybe it’s hungry.” He wonders, laying his arm over your shoulder, confused by its strange behavior.

You looked down at the black cat, walking back and forth gracefully, and looking very much annoyed. “Maybe.”

“My house or yours?” He asks, voice gruff, eyes downcast. Even the good ones still act all the same.

You smile. “Yours.”

A loud deep meow erupts from the black cat. 

-

The next time you left the warehouse, there was no black cat. He’s mad at you. Did you deserve it? He doesn’t expect you to feed him every single night, does he? If he just accepted your offer to stay inside your home, he wouldn’t have to worry about such things, you thought, offended and weary to walk home alone, cautiously making your way down the usual path.

You heard soft footsteps behind you. ‘Not again,’ you thought. Fearing the worst you spun around, coming face to face with your ‘black cat.’ You met deep brown eyes with flecks of green that almost seemed to glow when he stepped cautiously out of the shadows.

He crossed his arms over his chest and walked towards and then past you, looking over his shoulder, an annoyed look on his face. You took the hint and stepped in line. “Um, are you hungry?”

He didn’t speak.

You dug into your purse. You held out the leftovers wrapped in foil to him. He took it and ate as he walked, big urgent bites that made you frown, noticing his hunger. 

You pass a man walking in the opposite direction and your companion presses his shoulder to yours. The gesture warms your heart. Usually, when a man passed by you, you were met with questions or a comment about your body. This time nothing. The stranger keeping his head down, walking away without a word, and you almost wanted to scoff at how invisible you became now that you were in the company of a man, annoyed that’s what it took for strangers to leave you alone.

You stopped once you saw your home in the distance. He looked at you in question, turning to you for the first time. “Thank you…for walking me home tonight. And all those nights. Thank you, kitty.” 

You hugged him, his body stiffened against yours and you didn’t let go until he relaxed, arms slowly reaching around you too.

“Yoongi, my name is Yoongi.” His voice was gruff and raspy like he hasn’t used it in awhile. It was the first time, in a long time he felt he had a reason to speak.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you whispered. And then you let him go, smiling, turning back to your home. 

---

The thing about injustice, is that those who wield it, do not have to live with the pain they cause. But for those who are hit, every day the pain builds upon itself, robbing energy and time to tend to wounds caused by injustice, leaving scars that make it impossible to forget. 

You’ve felt it growing inside you, the anger. The past continued to assault you, making you feel disgusted. You tried to ignore it, but the memories were scars inside you that keep opening, making you angrier, repulsed.

And worse, attacks in the district grew exponentially, outcries from the people were met with platitudes by officials.

And worst of all, the latest trending case involved an elite from the e-tech district. It took four women, the last one reported to have died from the trauma. Of course he faced no punishment. He was a powerful man from the e-tech district, and they were powerless labor women. Injustice upon injustice. The wounds kept on opening, your trauma you kept on remembering, again and again in the faces of these women, anger simmering and growing.

So when you walked your usual path with Yoongi high on your shoulder and heard a concealed whimper in the shadows, you didn’t just mind your own business, like you would have done out of fear no less than a year ago, you were too angry to be afraid.

“Get off of her!”

You hit his back, you hit his head, you hit any part of him you can reach. “Go! Run! Hurry!” you tell the woman, who chokes on her cries and looks at you with tearful scared eyes, nodding.

He is startled, but he is stronger, pushing you away, slapping you across the face. “Crazy bitch! You want to die, yeah?”

He hits you again and you don’t care. You kick him and hit him, knuckles hurting the most with how hard you swing.

He is surprised, but he is stronger, and it only take one solid hit to make you double over, wind knocked out of you and curling into yourself.

Legs trap your body to the ground and you feel disgusted all over again, gritting your teeth, angry tears escaping, your nails dig into his face, drawing blood that surprises you both.

He’s angry, and he’s stronger, fingers wrapping around your neck, a murderous look in his eyes that you match. You belt weakened hits down across his forearm. Part of you, furious, makes a promise that if you survive this, you’ll find a way to kill him and every man who hurts another woman with your bare hands. But another part of you, the part of you that’s tired, that expects this pain to never end, would rather just die. 

A single clawed digit runs across the man’s neck, ending the fight and silencing your thoughts. Yoongi pulls the man off with you ease, throwing his dying body to the ground.

Yoongi crouches down, looking over your battered body. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!”

“We have to leave.”

“No, leave me alone!”

“Get up,” he says, insistent.

“NO!” Your breath out rapidly, unable to calm your nerves or your anger.

So Yoongi waits, sitting down next to you. “Then I’ll stay here with you.”

Finally, you calm down, tension growing as minutes tick by. “Let’s go,” you swallow, pulling off your blood soaked work shirt, revealing a black tank top underneath, standing up to leave.

“This is not the way home.”

“I know.”

Black smoke zips around you, Yoongi appearing in front of you annoyed. “Where are you going?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, you were going to find another drunk man, you were going to see if he deserved to die too. “Why did you save me?!”

He looks at you, “Because I wanted to.” His answer short, hiding his real answer.

“Why?!”

“When you found me, why did you save me?” He asks, temper rising.

You stumble over your words. “Because it was the right thing to do, how couldn’t I?”

You think back to the day you found Yoongi, thin as a rail, patches of fur missing, tape wrapped tightly around his body, barely clinging to life, you thought he was surely going to die.

It was too cruel, what happened to him, you hadn’t expected him to live through the night, but you wanted him to know kindness too, to know there were good people out there too who wouldn’t hurt him. You nursed him all night and all morning, for days, until he found the strength to walk again, and then one night when you came home from work he was gone, the following night began your walks.

“That’s why. Because it’s right,” he replies.

You swallow down angry tears. “This is not going to stop, it’s not going to stop unless someone stops it.”

---

Spring came and it became unbearably hot in your small home. You left the windows open at night to let the heat out. On your day off, you took to spring cleaning. As you cleaned you looked to the side and saw familiar black fur, Yoongi was outside your window. You put out a bowl of water on the window sill, adding an ice cube which he gratefully licked, slurping the water cutely. He looked bigger. Hair longer, he did not look like the straggly stray you first encountered. He kind of looked intimidating, you mused.

You lean your head against your window frame, running your hand through his thick fur. “You can come inside anytime you want,” you let him know, smiling.

With the spring heat, you traded pants for shorts, thinner fabric, your hair up and off your shoulders. Now that nights were no longer cold, that meant even more people outside. More attacks too, some trending cases coming in from the upper districts.

Once the brutality reached the elite, rallies begin to form, marches through the Neostate's capital. You watched on your home display, conflicted in emotions. It looked nice, but did it change anything? Maybe in those districts, but definitely not here.

It didn’t matter to you, because you promised yourself that night, you would die before you let another man take advantage of you.

So when a man put his arm over yours, pulled you out of the dance hall, and he thought of all the ways he was going to have you that night, you thought of all the ways you were going to kill him.

Alone with him, you spoke low and direct, only once telling him to let you go before he regrets it. He laughs in your face, leans into you, whisky smell coming out of his slimy lips as he attacks the corner of your mouth. 

Ever since that night you let your nails grow. It made it a bit more difficult to complete your duties at the warehouse, but the trade off was worth it, watching men crumple to the floor, screaming in pain when you ripped gashes across their face. Oh, it was so worth it.

“You crazy fucking whore!” The man screeches expletive after expletive, anger growing. You don’t care.

Before you can attack again, before he can attack you, Yoongi attacks.

From behind you, moving quicker than either of you, Yoongi transforms into a man. He lands a series of punches, large hand gripping the assaulter’s face, slamming his skull hard into the unforgiving pavement.

He looks back at you and you look at him and you don’t need to speak to one another before you both are running down the alley away from the dead drunk who could have saved his life if he hadn’t tried to impose himself on you.

You walk next to one another in silence. And then you decide to turn back into the crowd. Yoongi holds you back, wearily asking, “What are you doing?”

“I’m thirsty. It’s hot. I want a popsicle.”

He stops you again. “Cmon on, I’ll buy you one too. A milk one.”

You sit on your porch, smiling at Yoongi who holds two popsicles, once in each hand, licking the frozen milk.

“You’re trending on the local page. Well I guess we’re both trending.”

Yoongi nods, focused on licking.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Yoongi nods.

“Why won’t you come stay inside?”

“My kind are territorial. If I choose a home, it’s um, important to choose the right one.”

You pout, “I know my house isn't big or fancy, but it’s sturdy. It’s not that bad.”

“That’s not what I meant! I just... I had a home once. I thought I would always be welcome. I...” He can’t finish, voice shaking.

You exhale, understanding. “I grew up in foster homes. Some were okay, but it never felt like a family. Some were...horrible...” You wince at memories. “Anyways, what’s the saying, ‘Home is where the heart is’?” You nudge his shoulder. “This feels like home right here. Here with you.” you smile. “Yoongi? Are you…purring?” You look over at him with wide eyes, hearing the familiar vibrations come from deep within his chest.

“No!” He looks away.

---

Neostate's capital never seemed to care about the attacks on women, but the attacks on men? More law-forcers tasked to your district. On every corner. Men protecting men. More arrests of street girls. A curfew for women (unless a man was with you). You could almost feel the fear and tension within the night crowds now.

The people didn’t like the constant watchful eye. Rallys were every day now. Violence was met with more violence. The women who were caught in the crosshairs weren’t taken to Neostate run prisons, no, they were taken immediately to special e-commerce owned prisons, forced to work in the gencrop fields with migrants and farmbots, forced to work with cancer causing chemicals that unions outlawed amongst its citizen workers.

And by some accounts, women were given a second, more heinous, option. Better than slowly dying from cancer causing chemicals, they could use their prison time to serve as live incubators, as human birth was always the more desired option to incubator births. That was Neostate’s answer to the violence, a more sinister, pathological brutality.

Where was the justice for the battered women? Where was the justice?

That kind of injustice, that kind of shared pain, it didn’t lessen or become better over time. It stayed, stretched and thinned, like a blanket, almost comforting at times, suffocating most of all. The hypocrisy was sparking an age old fire amongst the people who had let it simmer for too long. And now, that cloth caught fire, and there was no stopping it.

More rallies and more marches, in every district a curfew now.

The fire was flaming.

And inside danced one flame known as her. Rumors of a powerful woman, with a pet, no a beast, no a cat! People have seen her at night, seen her cat move, jumping over buildings. She walks the streets at night to deal out justice the law-forcers won’t, women she has saved talk of her all the time; the woman with the black cat on her shoulder.

-

One night, the men who deserved punishment, to your surprise, were in uniform.

You stood stunned, unable to process. “L-Let her go...”

“Grab her.”

Of course, unfortunately for him, Yoongi would never allow him to touch you. Larger than you have ever seen him, appearance more like a panther than a black cat, Yoongi attacked the law-forcer with ease. 

This was before you learned Yoongi’s abilities were unmatched by bullets. You jumped in the firing path of the law-forcers. Your vision blurred from the blood loss and the immense black smoke that suddenly appeared. It was everywhere, and Yoongi was unstoppable. 

Everything was destroyed. The destruction didn’t look human, didn’t even look monstrous, it looked like a killer force of nature.

You only heard rumors of it like everyone else, the unexplained phenomena that took the lives of two heroes, because you fell unconscious before you could witness Yoongi's true power.

You woke up in your bed, bandaged, Yoongi and an unfamiliar man at your bedside. 

Your throat itches, dry from days of sleep. Your muscles stiff, tight bandages around your stomach.

“Hello,” the stranger besides Yoongi speaks calmly. “I’m Namjoon, a friend of Yoongi’s. You’re okay now, we were able to stop the bleeding, no major organs or arteries were hit, you’re lucky.”

Lucky, he says. You groan. “You’re doctor?”

“Not quite,” he laughs uneasily. “A veterinarian.” He smiles sheepishly.

You fell asleep after the small exchange, and woke up with a small black cat purring across your chest, feet and tail tucked in, head resting under your chin.

You find enough energy to pet him softly. “Don’t leave, please,” you croaked out, half asleep. “You’re my home.”

Yoongi never left.

---

These days, when you walked with Yoongi, he walked in human form beside you. Yoongi stayed more and more in human form. Stray cats were being round up and euthanized. Animal hospital records were being sequestered and families who owned black cats were being investigated by the State. All over a rumor. Well, the rumors of the woman with the black cat on her shoulder had become more than just gossip between warehouse workers. Whispers of you were heard in every home, in neighboring disticts, in Neostate's capital! You and Yoongi have become a symbol of strength, of hope, a battle cry, a reason to keep fighting.

-

“What should we get? Hweh?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, shaking his head no.

“Hmm,” you browse through the food screen at the grocery kiosk, “Well I can’t afford steak,” you pout.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Noodles!” Yoongi visibly grimaces at the thought, making you laugh.

“How about we settle for chicken?” You smile. Yoongi smiles wide. You somehow always ended up buying the chicken set.

“Y/n? Hey! How have you been?”

“Hobi, hey!” You turn around to see Hoseok’s cheerful face smiling down at you. “I’m great, all things considered.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. You know, I pick up my Aunt and some of the other girls from the warehouse after their shift ends. Has she told you? I can take you home too. It’s not safe to walk alone at night.”

“It’s never been safe,” you sigh. You knew, most women now walked in pairs or with a trusted male escort. “I’m fine,” you reassure Hoseok, “Yoongi walks with me.” you look over to your companion, smiling. If Hoseok only knew how many walks it has been now.

“Oh, nice to meet you! Are you…together?”

“He’s my fr-” You feel Yoongi’s hand reach for yours, intertwining his fingers as he stares down a confused Hoseok. “-iend.” You look down in surprise at his hand tightly holding onto yours.

“A-Ah, okay.” Hoseok looks away flustered by the way your companion stares daggers into him.

The screen beeps and the kiosk's door opens, your food bagged and ready to be picked up. “We g-gotta go.” You turn, pulling Yoongi along.

You walk home and Yoongi never lets go of your hand.

You don’t question him, afraid he might take it the wrong way, instead enjoying the moment, because as affectionate as Yoongi was in cat form, he never touched you unless absolutely necessary in human form.

Yoongi, however, silently stews over the brief encounter, feeling more and more threatened by the man who took you on a date so long ago. Once you enter your home you finally ask him, “Are y-you okay?”

“Yes.” He says, still holding your hand. Lips pressed into a tight line, full of jealousy and quiet rage.

You raise your eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

“You see me as a friend?” he snaps.

“You, um, don’t see me as a friend?” you ask confused.

“I see you as more.” He says it softly, eyes staring you down. He looked angry but he looked sincere, confusing you.

“What do you– What do you mean, Yoongi?” You heartbeat escalates in anticipation.

He didn’t have a proper word for it, the closest human word didn’t sound right at all. He saw you as more, yes, he felt a connection so deep to you, words couldn’t describe it.

He lifts your intertwined hands over his heart, struggling to say what he felt. “You’re– with me– You’re home.”

He raises your hand to his mouth, pressing the skin to his lips softly, before licking.

You smile, giggling at his cute affection before moving closer to him, burying your head into his chest, listening to his erratic heartbeat. 

“You’re…more than a friend.” You whisper. You look up at him, catching his eyes, irises such a deep brown shade with tiny flecks of green, his eyes so mesmerizing. “I love you.”

The words were barely spoken. He bends his head down, forehead meeting yours, long messy hair still as soft as a cat’s, ticking your skin. He's closer than he’s ever been to you. You took the chance to move one last inch, closing the distance, pressing your lips against his.

His soft lips brush against yours, making you feel so good you have to force yourself to pull away from him. “Was that okay?”

He answers you by kissing you again, this time with intention, his lips moving against yours, soft and hard and soft and hard and so so warm.

Your heart overflows, it makes you feel dizzy, a happiness you weren’t used to, only touching the surface of the love you felt for him but never diving in, and now it felt so strong and all consuming it left you breathless.

You hug him close again, anchoring yourself to him. “Did I do it wrong?” he hesitates.

“No, everything is right, everything.” 

---

You answered Hoseok's chat right away.

“How did this happen?!” You move beside Hoseok, staring at the hospital bed where his Aunt lies, bandaged and connected to tubing.

“She got caught up in the rally. The law-forcers thought she was a protestor. What shit, they hit her thirteen times! She was still in her warehouse uniform!” You put your hand over her bruised knuckles. Hoseok’s shoulders rack with sobs, Mrs. Jung was Hoseok’s Aunt, but she raised him like her own. “The march was so large I couldn't get my car through the crowd, I couldn't get to her!” He cries, feeling guilty and distraught. You turn to Yoongi, exchanging silent words.

You never attended the marches, deciding to pick your battles. But this time, you decided you enemy was not only a misogynistic bottom feeder from the labor district, not just a sadistic elite taking advantage of his status to hurt women, or a sexist law-forcer abusing his power, your enemy had become bigger, a system working against women like you at every turn. You were going to defend yourself and the women you loved, and even the women you didn’t, you decided.

And that is why you and Yoongi revealed yourselves to the world. You had enough. The people had enough. And this time, because of you, the people had won. It showed the world, power is not just given to men.

---

“The Women’s Protection Act,” your coworker scoffs, moving the hospital food around her plate, “Sounds like Enslavement.” She frowns. “My husband is dead, how am I supposed to get to work if I can’t even leave my own house by myself?”

“I could take you.” Hoseok says.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s a nice thought, but doesn’t fix the problem.” 

“It won’t pass, right?” Yoongi asks.

“They’re scared of us, it will pass,” you say solemnly. 

“Then we fight.” Yoongi says. You all turn to stare at him. “Err right?”

“Fighting here does nothing, the elite districts have to join in, for real.”

“Those girls never worked a day in their life,” she groans, “you think they will dirty their hands for us?”

“If they had someone to rally them, I bet they would… The woman with the cat on her shoulder.” Hoseok says wistfully. “They would follow her, look what happened.” You catch Yoongi’s eyes and quickly look away.

“Yeah, can you believe it? Those fuckers’ weapons all jammed. Can you imagine that cat of hers in the e-tech district?” Hoseok’s Aunt cackles, “Oooh, the entire place would combust!” 

You swallow hard while Hoseok joins in on the laughter. “Ahh that would be great. But the capital has technology that hasn’t even reached us yet, I don’t think she could even survive a fight like that.”

“We should still try.” Yoongi murmurs.

“Yeah? Got a way to chat her? I’d love to meet her,” Hoseok laughs.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, crossing his arms, huffing.

You ignored Yoongi’s questions all night, until finally you snap.

“What if you die?!” 

Yoongi looks at you stunned, chuckling. “You’re not worried about yourself?”

You scoff. “I should have died a long time ago.”

“Me too, but a woman saved my life when she didn’t have to, gave me…a home.”

“W-We could expand our watch over to the agriculture district instead. That’s something we can fight and win. Maybe we should just focus on that?” Yoongi stays quiet. “Why help the Elites when half of them agree with the act?!” You ask angrily.

“If you want to stay…I’ll stay with you.” 

Every part of your being is screaming at you not to back down now. “I don’t want to lose you.” Yoongi kisses your forehead, hugging you close. 

To the capital.

You didn’t want to disappear and worry Hoseok and his Aunt, so you went to the antique store and bought paper, wrote a note using real ink for the first time in your life. You gave it Hoseok after leaving the hospital for the last time. Now three people knew your secret. Well, three people and a cat.

“Packed?” He asks.

You nod, on the verge of tears. You hated this place, why did it hurt so much to leave it?

Yoongi sensed your sadness, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m being silly,” you sniffle.

“You’re not, it’s okay to feel sad.”

You finally broke down in Yoongi’s arms. You were terrified and you were sad. You felt like you were being pulled away at sea, the currents of the revolution were too strong for you to swim through, you weren’t strong enough for this. You had no real power, it was all Yoongi, you were a fraud, and you were going to drown and take Yoongi down with you.

A soft purr pulled you away from your thoughts, Yoongi trying to console you the only way he knew how. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips, damn if it didn’t work. He’s too cute, too loyal, too perfect for someone like you. You didn’t deserve him, but you were too in love to let him go now.

You lay against him, sharing your bed one last time. “I’m sorry for dragging you into my fight.”

“I might not understand everything, but I know what you’re fighting for is what I want to fight for too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. No matter where we go, my home is you.”

He kissed you softly, wanting to make the moment last. Soft kisses became stronger, deeper. Hands wrapped loosely around your waist and became tangled in your hair, cupping your cheek, firm, pulling you into him.

You moved on instinct, nestling your body close to his, pressing tight to his strong frame. Your heart began to beat so quickly it matched his own, your breath escalating against his lips. You didn’t want it to end, you wanted to be closer, always closer. You wanted all of Yoongi.

“Is this okay?” you ask between heated kisses, Yoongi nods quickly, groaning, head falling forward into the bend of your shoulder as your fingers wrap around his shaft, feeling him harden as you pump. His tongue runs along your shoulder, softly scratching your skin, making you shudder and moan.

His mouth envelops your own, this time with more urgency, tongue licking over your lips until you part them for him. He takes his time tasting and licking into your mouth, holding you tightly as you work to pleasure him.

“I want you, y/n.” Yoongi grunts, moving his body over yours, watching you intently, memorizing your heated expressions to memory. “Please?” he asks, licking his lips.

“Yes,” you nod, widening your legs for him. His fingers pull at your panties, growing a claw just to tear the fabric away. You pull your nightshirt quickly over your head before he can tear it off too.

He stills and admires your body before lips kiss the newly exposed skin as he presses his body down onto yours, slowly connecting himself to you, inside and out. You gasp, stretched by his length, try to steady harsh breathing. Having sex with Yoongi was nothing like you ever felt before, it was so gentle even when he rutted hard into you. It wasn’t just sex, it was making love. The pleasure, the love, it was overwhelming, his fingers exploring your body, pulling at your curves, pinching the most sensitive parts of you.

So much love, so much pleasure, your walls began tightening around his length until he couldn’t hold back any longer, mouth finding the sensitive part of your neck and biting down, releasing inside you. He relaxed into you, licking the mark, softly apologizing. It didn’t even hurt, you reassured him, the pain eclipsed by the pleasure and happiness you felt. It felt so good and right.

He kissed along your neck, down your shoulder, across your chest, moving lower and lower, determined to give you just as much pleasure as you gave him. Rough tongue licking across your sensitive skin until he fell in between your legs, admiring your beauty. You shiver as his fingers run along your sex, push the liquid overflowing out of you back inside, his come, possessively wanting to mark you still. He keeps his fingers deep inside you as he licks your core, tongue pressing over your nub sending shockwave of ecstasy  through you, building the pleasure inside you once more until you reach euphoria’s edge again, this time toppling over. He moans into your core satisfied, your walls clenching around Yoongi’s fingers. 

“Come here,” you finally rasp out, as Yoongi is all too happy to continue to lick you clean.

Hugging him close, tangling your limbs together, you fall asleep one last time in the largest district in the Neostate, the labor district.

---

“How the heck are we supposed to get a pass to visit the e-tech district?” you realize, asking Yoongi when you both step out of your home at sunrise.

He smirks.

-

“Hey Joon.”

“Ahh look at you! You look great.”

“Yeah...Well, Yoongi is not happy.” You frown.

“It will wash off, they do this to all the pets in the higher districts.” Yoongi growled and panted in his cage, his fur a bright shade of purple.

“Let’s go, ‘wife.’” Joon held out his elbow to you.

Loud hisses emit from the cage. You laugh awkwardly, wearing clothes that cost more than your entire wardrobe.

“So your family is from the financial district, eh?” You ask trying to break the tense silence. Joon, Yoongi, and you took a bus to the distribution district, and then once you arrived you transferred into a private driverless car sent by his family.

Namjoon smiles, “Yeah, want to know why I stayed down there, I assume?”

“The thought crossed my mind, yes.”

“Love is funny that way,” he sighs. “They really try to box us into different sectors, make it so hard for each of us to find happiness somewhere else, but when you find the one, nothing else matters.”

You clutch the altered ID card of Namjoon’s late wife.

“You stayed, even after, when you could have gone back...”

“I never had a reason to until now.” He taps on the cage, “Plus, I had a very stubborn patient who wouldn’t leave either,” he raises his voice, teasing Yoongi.

You make it to the financial district in Namjoon’s smart car. You walk with Namjoon to your hotel with Yoongi in tow and you've never seen so many...things. Useless things. What is that thing? Pouring out water you can't even drink. Where does the water go? Why are they wasting so much water?! Water is a scarce commodity, it doesn’t make any sense!

‘Neostate’s Safe Sector continues to riot as our Capital’s Citizen’s Defense Force begins deployment to our nation’s largest sector.’

“Did they just call our district…the Safe Sector.” You blink. “Namjoon places a finger over his mouth, signaling your silence.

He turns the hotel’s display screen’s volume up louder, closing the blinds. He clicks the release on your e-bracelet, placing both his and yours in his suitcase. “Surveillance here is much worse,” he whispers.

You mouth the words ‘safe sector,’ aghast.

Namjoon laughs quietly. “I mean, I don’t think they meant safe as in safety, but I see what you mean,” he whispers.

“Can I let him out now?” 

Namjoon nods and Yoongi stretches his tiny cat body outside his cage, bounding towards the hotel room’s bathroom. 

“Wait!” Namjoon whispers urgently, running after him. “Don’t transfo-”

“THE FU-” Namjoon covers Yoongi’s mouth. Finishing the proclamation, “ONLY ONE SINK?!”

“Huh?!” you rush towards the bathroom but it promptly shuts in your face.

“What’s wrong? I want to see!”

You hear snickering on the other end of the bathroom door and the soft whipping of a towel smacking marble, Yoongi taking out his anger on the poor bathroom’s sink. You can only imagine what he looks like now, you sigh, vowing to make Namjoon tell you in detail what happened.

-

“Do you know what a blueberry is?”

“No.” you say excitedly, you wait to hear Namjoon’s explanation.

In your lap, Yoongi bristles, purple tail puffing out in all directions.

-

“Even with your e-braclet completely offline, I’m still worried. An alert might still send off if they notice someone from the labor district in the capital. I sent it back to Hoseok, Yoongi said that it was okay.” Namjoon whispers.

You nod, a little disappointed your v-life was now truly non-existent. ‘Yoongi is home,’ you repeated in your mind, petting a purring Yoongi. “I got you a new one,” he hands you the shiny new tech. “It’s rudimentary, uses old satellite tech instead of the web. I programed my number and a few trusted others from other sectors. Now, remember your lines for the border-forcers?”

“Yeah, I’m visiting for the day to buy a dress because my husband is being honored with an award.” You say, gripping the leash connected to Yoongi as if your life depended on it, “...with my cat.”

Underneath your expensive clothes you wore all black. You walk in hand with Namjoon, pass a large metal installation sticking out of the sidewalk. It’s marked ‘emergency,’ a button with an icon of a woman engraved in the metal. You wonder what exactly would happen if you pushed it.

How many times has that button been pushed, you wonder, would this district even need a use for such a thing? You took in each passerby. There were so many…men. You’ve only passed by one other female and no children. The men here had manners, which only meant they kept their heated stares upon you for only moments before hurriedly going about their day. But as you pass another installation you think there must be a reason.

“I’m in surgery with a patient, that’s why I can’t come with you. But…” he waits for you to remember your lines.

“There’s a family friend waiting to escort me on the other side,” you repeat the lie.

“Great, you got this! Now, try to keep your chin up, act like you belong.”

Ugh.

---

You look across the city lights, so many buildings, so many people. Everything looked so new and clean and so different. The wind was even different here; crisper, fresher.

Under these circumstances, you could see why it was easier for most of them to ignore the abuse. You had to believe they wanted to stop it too. You had to believe the oppression broadcasted from other districts had echoed loud enough with an uncanny cry, familiar to them too.

Well, for now you’re here with just one other by your side and the hopes of your people on your shoulders.

“What do you think, Yoongi?”

Yoongi turns his head and smiles, stealing a kiss. “I’d say I have seven more lives, at least,” he muses.

“What’s the supposed to mean,” you huff, weary. You hold up the plastic map, it generates the landscape, Yoongi studies nine Xs across the terrain. “You know there are only two women on the council? And one of them is in favor of the act! Well,” you sigh, “I guess a 50/50 vote is the best odds we could hope for.” You think out loud.

Yoongi crouches down, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, settling on his back. “Ready?” he asks.

“No,” you mumble, “What did you mean by seven lives?”

“Just that...my last life, I want to spend just being happy with you.”

You hug him tighter, nodding. Smokes appears around you and wherever you and Yoongi go. The power goes out and the city shuts down. It’s not the women who are afraid, it’s the men.

---

The line “forged from pain,” what I meant was, written from pain. This is pain and anger and sadness of a woman in a society that wages war against women. Sorry, no lightheartedness from me for awhile. If you didn’t like this story or its ending, I’m not sorry. I will finish my WIPs soon, but I’m going to keep writing stories like this for now.

Spring Fling Masterlist

[casuallyimagining]

Home (1)

Sequel to Fix You. Read it first.

Hybrid Min Yoongi x Female Reader; Platonic OT7 x Female Reader; Namseok; Jinkook

Summary: After helping Yoongi get away from his abusive former owner, you’re left to focus on your relationship and how it progresses. That is, until you find six other hybrids who need your help, and their former owner decides he’s going to make your life hell. Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff Word Count: 2,564 Rating: M Warnings (updated per chapter): stalking

Major thanks to @eatjeanjin for beta-ing this and for listening to me complain almost constantly. You’ve been nothing but helpful and sweet, and I’m so grateful for your opinions and assistance.

banners by @mintkims

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The thing about having a black cat as a pet is that it suddenly becomes a major part of your personality. Everything and anything that comes in a black cat variety can and will become your Christmas present for the rest of your life. Dish towels, pot holders, sassy garden flags, ceramic knick-knacks, decorative throws--you’ll own them all.

This is all well and good. Black cats are cute, and statistically, they’re adopted much less frequently. And really, when your cat doesn’t understand that its likeness is mirrored on almost everything you own, it’s simply a personality quirk of the owner.

It becomes a problem, however, when your cat is actually half-human and is very much aware that all of your tea towels bear his likeness and that your parents have taken every excuse to buy you tiny ceramic black cat figurines to decorate your home office. It’s a problem, because not only does he find it hilarious, it makes him a little smug.

Now, you couldn’t go anywhere without him pointing out every black cat item to you.

“Oh look!” Yoongi’s voice drew your attention. When you looked, he was holding up a custom garden sign, the cheesy grin on his face almost exactly matching the cat’s on the sign. Behind him, his tail swished happily.

“Oh my god,” you said with a laugh, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think we need another stupid garden sign.”

“It’ll match the one your mom got you!” He put it back on the table anyway, his hand automatically reaching out for yours as you left the stall.

“We don’t even have a garden.”

“We have potted plants!”

“No, kitty, we used to have potted plants. And then they died because we forgot to take care of them.”

He laughed at that, leaning in and burying his nose into the hair above your ear. You leaned into his touch. He had become so much more open and confident in the time that you’d known him. You could remember the first time you had brought him to the hybrid farmer’s market nearly two years ago--he had been so terrified of everything, so afraid to even talk to the vendors, that he could barely enjoy the experience.

But news of Yoongi’s emancipation had spread throughout the tight-knit hybrid community in the city, and it had become quite the comfortable place once the group had implemented a ban on certain unsavory former owners. Not to mention the fact that Yoongi was starting to become more comfortable in his own skin, more comfortable being out in the world, so he was able to enjoy himself more.

The market wasn’t busy--it was still early in the season--but that didn’t stop the vendors from setting up their wares anyway. The market had become somewhat of a habit for the two of you.

Yoongi loved looking at every stall at the farmer’s market, and it had really helped him come out of his shell. While he was still wary of crowds, the two of you had gotten to know most of the regular vendors over the past few years. Having familiar faces on the other side of the booths had invigorated Yoongi in a way that you hadn’t expected.

He spent most of the morning chatting with the vendors like they were old friends. He stopped to ask Steph, who sold honey and beeswax, how her bees were doing. He had read an interesting fact about woodworking that he wanted to share with Luis. And he was very excited to see what new produce Sarah and Shane were selling for the spring.

“Pearl should be back soon, right?” He questioned as you passed an empty stall.

In the warmer months, it would be occupied by an older cat hybrid named Pearl. She was kind and had taught Yoongi to knit out of the kindness of her heart in return for a scarf when he got good enough to share his work. Yoongi had kept his promise and had knitted her a scarf last year. The two had been thick as thieves ever since. But it was still May, and it was a little too cold for her to be sitting at the market all day.

“Probably next month,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

He hummed and nodded, continuing through the market. It was almost lunchtime, and you were on the way out. It was so early in the market’s season that the food trucks weren’t even set up yet. But that didn’t mean that you were leaving empty handed. You had gotten two bars of Yoongi’s favorite honey almond soap, as well as bushels of cherries and strawberries that he had wanted for a recipe.

You enjoyed the walk from the back of the market to the parking lot. The end of May air was just starting to get warm, and there was a humidity that suggested that a storm was going to blow in soon. This time of year was among your favorites, partially because the weather was nice, but mostly because it reminded you of Yoongi.

It had been three years since you had saved him from your parents’ neighbor and his dog. And holy fuck what a three years it had been. Between the therapy and the court proceedings, you had barely had time to think that first year. Thankfully, you’d been able to relax a little more after that, and you could focus on what was important. Namely, the budding whatever-this-was between you and Yoongi. It had been two years since he’d first kissed you, and neither of you had ever gone so far as to put a label on what your relationship was.

Just before getting to your car, Yoongi froze, his ears rotating this way and that as he listened to something. You were about to ask him what he was hearing when you saw the man. He stood three rows of cars away, hard stare fixed on you and the hybrid beside you. His hair was almost entirely grey now, but the bile still rose into your throat at the sight of him.

Seungri.

“Let’s go to lunch, yeah?” you suggested, trying to tug Yoongi toward your car.

But it was too late. He’d seen Seungri.

“Isn’t he banned from the market?” he growled, tail puffing up defensively.

You wrapped an arm around him and steered him away. “I don’t think they can technically ban him from the parking lot.”

Yoongi was in a sour mood as you drove, your hand clutched in his, with his ears pressed firmly against his skull. He stared out the window, watching as you got closer and closer to downtown. The traffic got heavier and the pedestrians more abundant as you approached your destination.

As you pulled into the parking garage across the street from the cafe, Yoongi sighed heavily. He always got like this when the two of you ran into Seungri, and it had been happening more and more recently. Even though he had nothing to worry about, seeing his former owner shook Yoongi to the core, and you suspected it always would.

You held his hand tightly as you crossed the street and entered the cafe, barely acknowledging the bright greeting from the cafe’s hybrid owner, your friend and client Khai. You let Yoongi lead you to a table by the window, sliding into the chair across from him. A few silent moments passed, and Khai brought you both your regular drink orders--an iced macchiato with soy milk for you, and an iced Americano for Yoongi.

Yoongi leaned on his hand, playing absently with the paper straw in his drink. You hated when he got like this, hated seeing him hurting. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, your face turned to look out the window. It was starting to drizzle.

“I just wish he would go away,” Yoongi said softly.

Khai had delivered your sandwiches barely a moment ago. The Bengal cat hybrid hadn’t bothered to take your orders, just bringing you one of your three favorite sandwiches at random. Normally, you would have been annoyed, but somehow, Khai’s personality made his assumptions charming, and it was hard to argue when the food was as good as it was.

“I know, baby. But Ms. Hwang said there wasn’t much else we could do.” You reached across and squeezed his fingers.

He sighed, picking up a potato chip and popping it into his mouth. “It’s just… it makes it hard. Trying to move on from everything, when he can just pop up anywhere.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. You could sympathize, sure. It must be hard for him, seeing his abusive former owner at random while you were out and about. It must be difficult to have to relive some of his worst memories at the most unexpected times. But you had no idea what he was actually going through. You still didn’t even know the full extent of it. There were still things he wouldn’t tell you about. A few experiences you could assume the details of, but he would never actually discuss them.

You never pushed it. He had opened up so much to you. If he wanted or needed to talk to you about it, you knew he would.

Admittedly, though, sometimes it did bother you that he kept certain things to himself. He never mentioned the other hybrids Seungri owned. Thanks to Seungri’s testimony at the trial, you knew that there were at least six more, but except for vaguely mentioning them at Christmas time, Yoongi refused to talk about them. You had brought it up once, shortly after the trial, but he had shut down, changing the subject as soon as he possibly could and falling into a funk for the rest of the day. You stopped asking about it after that.

Movement on the corner of the street corner drew your attention. Mentally you swore. You were starting to get annoyed with Seungri popping up literally everywhere. At this point, you were convinced he was tracking you somehow, but you couldn’t prove it. You watched as he idled in front of the parking garage. Hopefully he would be gone by the time you were ready to leave.

You should know not to hope for things to go well.

When you exited the cafe, Seungri was nowhere to be found, and for a moment, you thought you were safe. Yoongi swung your hand gently between you as you crossed the street, the rain gently pattering on the pavement around you. He was still a bit down from seeing Seungri at the farmer’s market, but he had started telling you about one of the books he was reading, and his mood was starting to lighten.

That was, of course, until you took two steps into the parking garage. A hybrid with large, pointy ears and a fluffy tail stood in your path. For a moment, he leaned nonchalantly against a concrete pillar in the structure, but the closer you got, you could tell his attention was on you. And then, when you were a few feet away, he pushed himself off the pillar, and just from the look on his face, you could tell he was a fox hybrid. He flashed you a cheshire grin and walked past you.

You knew something was up when Yoongi tensed, his grip on your hand tightened and he tugged you ever so slightly closer. That’s when you heard the light chuckle from behind you, and when you turned, your blood ran cold.

The fox hybrid stood beside Seungri, who looked positively delighted to be in a nearly empty parking lot with the two of you.

“I see you’ve grown a bit of a spine,” he said, a smirk on his lips. “Good for you.”

“Oh, Seungri, what a surprise,” you said dryly. “You know you technically shouldn’t be this close, right?” It wasn’t a question.

Part of Yoongi’s emancipation had included a somewhat modified restraining order. Legally, Seungri couldn’t be within 30 feet of Yoongi without professional mediation. And, though you both knew the city police wouldn’t enforce it, Seungri had obeyed.

Until now.

He waved you off, all pretense of kindness having gone with the trial. “I’ll be gone in a minute. Just wanted to see if you knew anything about my hybrids.”

“You got a new one,” Yoongi noted, nodding at the fox hybrid.

“Well, I had to. All of mine seem to have run away.”

Yoongi almost choked on his breath, his grip on your hand tightening so much it almost hurt. “What?”

“Oh you don’t know? I thought maybe you orchestrated it. You always were the bad one of the bunch.” Seungri shrugged. “But then again, you were never smart enough to be the leader, so I really should have known.”

You had to hold your tongue. Nothing he said mattered now. He could talk shit all he wanted, it didn’t mean anything. Yoongi was safe. Seungri had no power over anything. He was just a sad, middle-aged man grasping at straws to make himself feel good.

He continued, brushing his salt-and-pepper hair out of his eyes. “No, the other four ran away a few months ago. The wolf’s doing, I’m assuming.” He leveled you with an unamused stare. “You didn’t convince them to betray me, did you?”

“Unfortunately, no,” you told Seungri honestly. “But if I come across them, I’ll be sure to do that.”

You tugged on Yoongi’s hand, pulling him in the direction of your car. Thankfully, he followed. Seungri watched in silence as you walked away, stepping back off the road as you pulled out of the parking garage and onto the street.

It wasn’t until you were blocks away that Yoongi let go of your hand. He had barely let you go to get in the car, and then immediately once you both were buckled in, he had latched on again. You didn’t mind, but you could feel his hand trembling as he clutched yours, leg bouncing restlessly as you drove.

“What do you think about getting away for the weekend?” you asked, turning onto your street.

Yoongi looked at you briefly before turning his attention back out the windshield, his copper eyes clouded with worry. For a moment, you didn’t think he would answer you. His bottom lip was between his teeth, chewing in thought.

“What if he finds us?” he finally asked, voice soft, hesitant.

It wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. It seemed as though Seungri had eyes everywhere. As if he knew where you were at all times.

“We’ll go off the grid as much as we can.” You parked your car outside of your house, killing the engine. You made no moves to get out, distractedly playing with your keys instead. “We’ll rent a cabin in the woods somewhere. Just relax for the weekend. What do you think?”

“He won’t find us?”

“If he does, maybe we can feed him to a bear,” you joked.

“I’d feel bad for the bear.”

You hummed. “True. Poor thing would probably get indigestion.”

Yoongi laughed at that, and you smiled. You liked when you could bring him out of his anxiety, if only just a little.

“A weekend away sounds nice.” He squeezed your hand, and that was that.

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