#bts expecting parents au

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ I WANT THE YOU WHO WANTS ME AGAIN ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, some comfort, in the end, | wc: 4.5 K | not proofread

warnings: death of a parent through sickness (unspecified), cheating (gojo with geto), r! goes through it (lmao), megumi is rooting for r!

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

Perhaps at one point in your arranged marriage, you had loved Satoru but that’s all but vanished away when you see how he looked at Geto. Still, you provide comfort to your husband when he seeks you even if his six eyes (and soul) all bear to you that he does not see you. Satoru realizes too late that he cares for you - that he loves you. He despises your empty stare, he wants you back. He desperately wants you back.

authors note: i know i said i was taking a break but writing this made me feel a little bit better — cathartic almost. it's been in the drafts since last year anyways so might as well. (autumn leaves by bts inspired fic)

It seemed as though even the clouds were pitying the sight before it. Grey and darkened, they gathered to block the sun as whispers of doubt combed through the trees surrounding the temple — they reach your ears despite the attempts of your mother. "Now, don't you look handsome". She tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, pursing her lips at the look in your eyes. "(Y/N)". Her hands grasp at your face. The warmth of someone's hands on your cheek jitters your brain awake, and your pupils contract back into focus. "Have you been eating well, darling?" For a moment, your heart squeezes at her kind words. It's been so long since another had asked you that question so sincerely. The tears well but your hair sways as you shake your head, urging your cheeks to form a smile. "I'm alright, mom. Just getting over a cold". She brushes her thumb over your cheek then presses a kiss to your forehead. "My son". You're pulled into an embrace and suddenly you're little again — clinging to her after she had bandaged you up from your training session. Your eyelashes darkened as tears slip past them, hands trembling as you grip her tightly. "My beautiful son". Eventually, the sun sets but the rain continues to pour. The sounds of the raindrops are violent, accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder it seemed as though the Gods were angry. Angry Gods do little to scare your father. He gazes at you coldly from where your head is laid upon your mother's lap. Defiantly, you avoid meeting his eyes as you relish in the fingers smoothing out your hair. "Your husband will not be pleased with this," your mother's glare is reproachful. "Our son has come to pay us a visit, his husband needn't worry about him," his nostrils flare and he looks as though he's about to go on another rant about image, expectations, manners, servitude. But before he could, the shoji door slides open. It's one of the servant girls, her bow immaculate you could see the swirl pattern of her hair growth. "Gojo Satoru has arrived, Master (L/N)" She's addressing your father, you know because you are now Master Gojo. The air is filled with expectations. The rain does little to muffle it. Pitying her back, you rise from your mother's lap. "Inform my husband I'll be out in a moment" She bows deeper and straightens her composure to slide the door close but freezes as you address her. "Is my husband alone?" When her mouth opens to form the syllables of Geto Suguru your eyes turn to the floor. You're unsure if she's finished her sentence but find very little fucks to give as you silence her with raise of your hand. Wordlessly, she bows and closes the door.

"Ah, husband!" he slings his arm around your shoulder. His weight, his warmth, his presence — too casual it's an insult. You cared little for tradition, scoffing at it sometimes, but the way Satoru displays himself in front of your parents causes you to grit your teeth. Suguru shoes are in the peripheral of your vision, you will your gaze to the side.

Once upon a time, the four of you were friends. Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and you.

Those blue summers and warm winters as first-year sorcerers. Memories so bright and heartfelt others probably only see on movie screens. Then you were betrothed to Gojo Satoru, family stuff, expectations and duty, and everything the both of you roll your eyes at. A part of you had been elated. Blinded by the idea of marrying the boy your heart beats for. Sure, falling in love would have been preferred but despite the arranged marriage, you were thick as thieves. So, in your foolish daydreams, you'd sigh at the idea of you two falling in love. Shoko could only watch as your dreams crumble before you. She tried her best to be some sort of support — shocked when she spotted you smoking her cigarettes after a year into the marriage. "I never noticed the way they look at each other". Your words follow the stream of smoke and Shoko settles next to you with her elbows placed on the railings. "I mean, I knew but I just thought...I just thought he'd look at me the same one day". She is silent as you curl over the railing, shoulders jerking with silent sobs. "How foolish, huh?" She places a hand on your back, saying nothing as you wept.

Suguru greets your parents with more tact than your husband who is smiling ear-to-ear. "How was your mission, Gojo, Geto?" the way their surnames sounded made your jaw ache as you continued locking your jaw. Your husband is squeezing you to his side, like a friend. Satoru feels your shoulders stiffening and he loosens his grip to look down at you but you slip out from under him and hastily walk towards the car. "Young Master —" a servant gasps as he attempts to match your pace, the umbrella he holds barely shielding you as you feel your tears mix with the rain. "(Y/N)!" Suguru calls, catching up to you with his own umbrella and you feel searing guilt stab at your chest. Suguru had never been mean to you — he's been there for you through the years and despite your sudden avoidance of him here he was trying to ensure you remained dry. A clap of thunder muffles your sob, the only mercy the Gods are giving you, and you will yourself to pass Suguru. The car door is slammed shut in Suguru's face and before he can wonder the driver is driving off. He stands in shock, the servant that had been chasing you sharing his expression. Satoru tilts his head, hands in his pockets as he Suguru gives him a look of apprehension once he reaches him. Your parents — his in-laws — are apologizing. More so your mother. Your father's anger is palpable despite his puckering lips. "We'll get you another car, Gojo, Geto" your father calls for his personal driver

Satoru’s eyes — with that bright, heavenly, blue that put the sky to shame — linger on the fading signature of your aura. Suguru’s bangs stick to his forehead due to the rain and the sight of him alone has Satoru tear his gaze away. They land on Suguru who offers a furrow of his brows and so Satoru reaches to wipe the wetness away.

“Hey!” the action is rough, anything but romantic. Suguru feels like a cat being pet too roughly — with their skin stretching back and eyes growing wide — and so he smacks Satoru's hands away.

Friendly. Playful. Banter. Boys being boys.

Your mother squints her eyes nonetheless. She had heard that Satoru had been less than willing to marry. Her husband had thought it was his hubris but bowed until his forehead met the floor of the Gojo clan’s home. Their name was no laughing matter — a strong line of curse users much like the Zenin’s.

But Gojo Satoru was sought after by many the second he turned 16 — the marriage proposals flooded in like a tsunami.

He refused them all. Except the (L/N)'s.

She had thought it was the dowery. Perhaps, even the fact that an alliance would soothe whatever ill tides their clans had once had. Or maybe it really was just a stroke of luck her son got along so well with Satoru while attending Jujutsu High (her husband had enrolled (Y/N) only when he heard whispers of Satoru attending).

But fear gripped her heart as Suguru tugged on Satoru’s ear.

Had he accepted...just so he could remain close to his true love?

“I’m sorry”. You pause the wiping motion, delicately lifting your head as your mother’s cloudy gaze floats aimlessly in the room. You were used to her nonsensical speeches, her random bursts of conversations and weepy apologies. It's been a year since the sickness unexpectedly came over her and you suppose that is what most people do when they’re close to death's door. Confessions of this and that just shooting out in a weak attempt to right old wrongs.

“Nothing to be sorry for, mother”. She places a hand over yours and squeezes. How frail. When has your mother looked so frail?

“Come home, be a (L/N) again”, confusion contorts your face. “Mother, whatever you’ve heard is all unfounded. Rumours. Father has dealt with them”, despite her fragility her fingers squeeze your wrists so tightly it forces your own to release the damp cloth.

“Then say that to me. Look into my eyes and tell me that bastard husband of yours is better than mine, that he’s not off loving another while you rot here”.

Colour bleeds into those lifeless eyes. She feels that same squeeze she felt when she saw Satoru wipe away the rain from Suguru’s skin rather than your tears just a year ago.

Just as quickly as they appear, that dullness returns in your eyes and she reaches to hold your face but you stand.

“Father is cheating on you?”

She’s lost you.

You walk to dip the cloth into the bowl, and your shoulders are too heavy for a 17-year-old boy. Her precious son, so forlorn and withdrawn; humiliated by the society he was in for being inadequate and unworthy.

Perhaps she deserved those titles, sick and bedridden and dying, it was no surprise that her husband is seen courting younger ladies. But not you, not her son.

“He’s no shame, you know your father. His pride comes before all”. It elicits a dry chuckle from you.

Then you suppose Satoru had more in common with your father than you knew.

The Star Plasma vessel incident, you can't believe it's been a year.

A year after that man that killed that Amanai and Kuroi and Satoru.

You remembered dropping to your knees as he admitted it out loud with such an ugly smile, shaking your head in disbelief as anger swelled within you.

Before you could even think, even grieve and rage, Geto had beaten you to it. As you looked at him with his anger so visceral it came off of him in waves you felt your torn heart crumble into pieces. It felt good to dish out that anguish on Fushiguro Toji even if you ended up eating dirt.

“Wasn’t he your husband?” Toji placed his foot on your neck. “Damn, he treats you that badly or something? This freak put up a better fight”, that day you had surprised Toji by smiling with your teeth all bloody.

“He did, didn’t he?” Your laughter bubbles and you choke on your own blood.

Toji knocked you out after a scoff.

That still wouldn’t have killed you as much. The torn pieces of your heart were still salvageable.

But then.

Then.

As Satoru came back. Warm and alive. Bloody but grinning. He did not race to you, he did not even look at you. To his credit, he simply stood there with his arms wide open.

But then.

Then.

Geto’s the one to race into them.

Ah.

Right.

Shoko was shocked to see you in her smoking spot. She hadn’t even seen you as Satoru was whisked away by the Gojo clan, only spotting Suguru following along. None had wondered where Satoru's husband was; Suguru was always next to him, so there was no void that one could spot.

“Are you alright?”

The darkness in your eyes makes her flinch.

You were dead.

She’s been around enough of death and you were dead.

Your once warm, cheerful, eyes now devoid of anything.

She held you as you cried, not knowing what more she could say to help you.

“Leave me alone”, Satoru is under the covers. He has been for days now.

Grieving.

Grieving Geto.

“Husband”, you coax. It was once a funny joke. The laughter you shared as the both of you exchanged formal titles of your marriage. It hurt to know that it truly was a joke for Satoru - not for you.

Satoru grits his teeth. His eyes were rimmed red, he himself was surprised they weren’t swelled up. His throat was scratchy, his skin uncomfortable and untended from his refusal to get up. His hair was tousled, unkept and disarrayed. It's been a week since Geto's betrayal and Satoru had been laid in your bed, burying himself under the blankets and deeper into the mattress; as if determined to be buried with his sadness and anger.

“Husband," he feels your hands on his shoulder. You know him by his shape alone. If you closed your eyes you could trace the curves that made up Satoru; even if it killed you slowly, your love was a loyal curse.

“Don’t call me that!” he raises in a grand move. The covers flew and his voice was in a yell. His glare was spine-chilling but they faltered as he saw the outfit you were.

“What should I call you then, Satoru?”

He takes you in, frowns deepening at the awful way his name sounds as you call for him. Not like his Suguru; his one and only.

“What the hell are you wearing, (Y/N)?”

He feels awful as you answer: “Funeral garbs. My mother has passed”.

There’s some satisfaction that paints your features as he is rendered speechless.

“What? How?”

“She was sick”. As he sits there with nothing to say you move to kneel in front of him. Your touch shocks him to reality. He pulls his shirt down, hoping you haven’t seen the hickeys Suguru had left on him before he decided to massacre that village.

You had. You’ve seen all of it. The lingering scent of Geto on his clothes, the hair ties on his wrist, the love bites that mottle his pale skin. Satoru may have those six heavenly eyes but he seemed so blind when it came to you.

The way he grimaces each time you’ve said his name now.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll help you wash up, Gojo”. He’d be an idiot to have not noticed that switch. Guilt is seeded into him. He stops your hands but you move them with a robotic stubbornness.

“Stop — Wait —”

“I know, Gojo.”

Silence drapes the room.

Your hands carefully thumb into his heart and cover the seed of guilt with such care Satoru’s pulse doubles its speed.

“I know you love him. So very much. I know, because when I go to clan meetings, my cousins whisper behind my back of the two of you holding hands and going on dates. When you come back late after a mission to go to Geto’s room. Or when you suddenly have Geto’s marks on you and yours on him”.

“(Y/N) — ”

“But this is my mother, Gojo”.

Your voice wavers just as he clutches your wrists in his hands. Your head hangs as your shoulders jerk up and down, twisting and squirming so you can help Satoru clean and dressed.

You know he was in pain and your heart feels for him. He needs your help. You were willing to strip down so you could wash him, and get back into this disgustingly heavy robe all over again despite how nauseating it was to do it the first time.

Funny. You can’t recall ever being one with Satoru. Your marriage was never consummated — he told you that there was no rush, you were still kids. What did he tell Geto then? Did he tell him that he had never taken you in bed? Was he fervent in his worship of him? Was their love akin to a religion? Did they worship each others temples like devout monks? How funny. The first time you’d get to see him naked and him you would be the day of your mothers funeral.

“She was my mother, Satoru!”

He has never heard you yell before. Satoru is struck by the that revelation.

It’s been a year since he was officially titled your husband and he knew you longer than that. But this was the first time he’s seen you in despair. Heard your yell.

Seen you cry.

“Please, I know he was your one and only but she was my mother. Please, please, don’t let me face this alone, Gojo”

“(Y/N)...”

“Please, Gojo...”

Your wrists slip away from his loosened grip. Crumpling onto the floor, your forehead meets the floor and his feet as your beg.

"(Y/N)". How long had your mother been sick? Why didn't you tell him — or did you? Why couldn't he remember? As his mind races to collect any memory of this past year, your tears that wet his feet water that guilt.

Satoru says nothing as the both of you appear at the funeral. The haughty eyebrows and curled lips sting more when he's there — was it shame? This burning feeling in your chest? Had you said too much to Satoru? Now he was acutely aware of how others looked at you, at your marriage. How awful.

Satoru is not used to this feeling. As a child, the eyes that lingered on him were hungry for the prize of beheading him. That had been more comfortable than this.

This was scrutinizing. They gazed on you with pity, even with his body attempting to shield you, the whispers reach your ears anyways. Have you been doing this all alone? All those clan meetings that you went to alone, the ones he'd excuse himself from saying he had a mission while he spent the day with Suguru to make him eat more and attempt to nurse him back to his side from the Star Plasma vessel incident.

Suguru had wept to him, telling him how terrified he'd been at the thought of Satoru leaving him. Why didn't you come to him? No. Why hadn't he noticed you?

The ride back home was silent. Satoru couldn't believe your father had brought his bride-to-be to the ceremony, you quelled his anger by muttering that your mother had given her blessing for their marriage.

You're staring out the window. Had those bags always been under your eyes? When did your cheeks get so sunken in? Had you...had you lost weight? He ignores the way your fingers twitch as he places his hand over yours. Your skin feels foreign — so does his. He offers a purse of his lips, sliding his hand up your arm and leaning in to embrace you.

But freezes as you pull your hand away.

"Don't force it upon yourself, Gojo". "Husband —" his smile falls as your shoulders tighten, lower lip quivering. "Please don't make me beg again, Gojo."

"What do you think, beloved?" Gojo grins brightly, bouncing his brow up and down. You were seated across from him in some cafe — he had been telling you all about how good the crepes here was a week before. "About...?" He pouts and places his elbows on the table. "My theory?" He watches as you blink, once, twice, then a faux smile climbs on your face. You turn your attention back to the melting ice cream. "Your theory about Okkotsu cursing Rika because of his love for her?" He nods vigorously. "It makes sense, right? His curse technique activating after seeing that brutal sight, it binding Rika to him". "Afterall, love is the most powerful curse", you said. Gojo's animated hand motions pause. He places his hand back onto the table. He reaches for your hand and you squeeze your eyes shut but allow it. He hates this.

Not you — He doesn't hate you. But he hates this.

After your mothers funeral, he looked through pictures. As first year students, all sunny smiles and bright eyed. The smiles got more tame as the four of you aged. His hands slung around Suguru's more tightly — even after they bared matching rings.

Satoru's never seen you smile like that anymore.

He brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your jaw clenches.

"I love you, my beloved".

"...Thank you, Gojo".

"It's been awhile, Satoru".

No. No, no, no.

Nononononononnonononononononononononono —

Gojo can't take his eyes away from Suguru.

He tries and tries and tries but he can't. Pinned by his onyx gaze alone.

Satoru's ring burns viciously and he curls his fingers into fists.

Meanwhile, your dead-eyed gaze seemed to intensify. Everything is muffled, it felt like you were underwater. It felt like you were 17 years old again.

Abandoned. Unworthy. Unloveable. In love. Always have been. Always will be. In love with a man that was never yours.

"(Y/N), you look pale", Suguru condenscends. At least, that's what it sounds like.

Hah. Was he envious? Did he think that in the years he's been gone, you've filled the void he left? Or did he know that you never did but he was jealous anyways?

Fuck, Satoru thinks. His temples feel taut as his teeth grit together.

Kento steps infront of you and your eyes widen by an inch.

How pathetic, Gojo (Y/N). An underclassmen protecting you from your husbands ex-lover's gaze.

Why couldn't Geto Suguru just die already.

"What are you doing?" Gojo is grieving again. You should be elated but you're not. It feels too cruel. It wasn't your doing, you hadn't had any hand in killing Geto Suguru but a part of you wondered if your inner thoughts had been a wish you put out to the world. Now, Gojo was without Geto and Geto's daughters were without their father.

So you felt guilt anyways.

It was more feasible competing for Satoru's affections when his lover was simply exiled. How could you compete with a ghost?

"I'm praying for him", you replied. Gojo watches as you prepare to do so, kneeled on the floor. His eyes are rimmed with red again and he knows you've heard his cries; so here you are, sacrificing your happiness again for him.

"You don't have to do that, beloved". You say nothing as your eyes are closed in prayer. Satoru kneels behind you, his guilt had 10 years to grow and now it was a willow tree, with its leaves sweeping the lake of tears it grew from. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder; he fit so perfectly there, just like you knew he would. He's crying into your shoulder and your hand reaches back to card through the shaved sides of his hair. Your fingers lightly brushing the shell of his ear makes him shudder and he circles your waist to pull you against him. "Don't pity me, Gojo". He says nothing and neither do you.

"Say my name". His voice so close to your ear has you shivering.

"Gojo".

He shakes his head.

"My name, please, please, just say it".

Your heart clenches and as you close your eyes a tear slips past.

"I can't replace him, Gojo". He squeezes you tighter.

"I'm not asking you to replace him. No one can replace Suguru. I don't want them too, I don't want you too; I want you".

"I don't believe you".

He laughs, the slightest brush of his teeth on your skin has your stomach twisting into knots. Your breath trembles and you squirm in his hold, twisting away and getting onto your feet to get away from him. He doesn't allow you to. He blocks your way, shaking his head as he holds your shoulders next.

"I want you, (Y/N). I love you —"

How long have you wanted to hear those words. Your heart wants nothing more than to soar. But your brain knows better. "No, no, no, let me go". He doesn't let you. Satoru wraps his arms around you and your mouth opens to let out yells, fists pounding onto his chest as you try to get away from him.

"I hate you! You fucking bastard! I hate you, I loathe you!"

Satoru holds you firmly agaisnt him. Holding the back of your head preciously as he finally hears your voice raised above that whispering tone. "I hate you! I hate you so much! Why do you keep doing this to me!? I — I just wanted you, Satoru!" Your voice breaks and your sobbing turns into wailing. His heart squeezes, chest physically hurting as you sob and yell.

"I wanted you, Satoru! I just wanted you!" "Why didn't you love me, Satoru!?" Thunder rumbles and as your yells quiet down into hiccups, rain muffles it.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)". He feels your knees give out and he holds you, making you lean against him for support. "I'm so sorry, my beloved. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, (Y/N)".

When he tucks you in to rest, he isn't surprised Megumi is standing in the doorway with his eyes set into a glare. Satoru wipes your tears away, sweeping some of your hair away before placing a kiss on your forehead. He raises to answer Megumi's burning questions.

"You heard?"

"I'm not deaf".

Megumi has his arms crossed. He was an observant boy. Being raised by both Satoru and you — he notices the overexuberant Satoru's confidence wavering every time you give him smiles that never reach your eyes. Tsumiki even told him once that she finds it sad, how you both seem to be so familiar but foreign to each other.

"But one time I did see (Y/N) get flustered because of Satoru", she told Megumi whilst on their way back from school. He looked ahead, sipping on his drink as a prompt for Tsumiki to continue. "It was during breakfast. (Y/N) woke up a little late because he was traveling around for clan meetings and missions. So he was panicking so much, he burnt our rice and stuff! But then, Satoru walks in and tells him he prepared our bento. He kept it in the fridge. All that was needed to do was heat it up, he helped (Y/N) the entire time and then he just — "

Tsumiki kisses the air with a loud 'mwah!'

"He plants a kiss right on (Y/N)'s forehead. (Y/N) was so flustered he just stared down at the sink. It was cute, he's definitely still in love, they both are!"

Megumi peeks into the room. The sliver of light on your peaceful expression highlights the content curl of your lips despite the swollen eyes you bore.

"...Don't mess up this second chance", Megumi warns. He turns and marches away while Satoru huffs, scratching the back of his head as he sighs. "I wasn't planning to". He really does love you. He does. He loves you, from the ends of your hair to the tip of your fucking toes; he loves —loved, Suguru too. But this is different, you're different. But his love isn't any less or more.

He loves you.

Whatever it takes, he'll make sure you know it until his last breath.

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

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[kingofbodyrolls]

Learn to Love Again (m) | myg

Summary: People always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, mainly called pet names so no ‘Y/N’).

AU + genres: Hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), strangers to lovers, slice of life, heavy angst, a lot of sadness and grief (I’m sorry!), dark vibes, smut and fluff and some humor sprinkled in there too. 

Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.

Word count: 19,4K

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings (general) + triggers: Heavy angst, extreme heavy sadness and grief, death of minor characters, mention of previous character death (parents and siblings), mentions of su*cide, mention of m*rder, su*cidal thoughts. Mention of past car accident. Mention of past domestic abuse. Mirrors 👀👀

Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (please stay safe!), choking, oral (female receiving), nipple and breasts play, one-time use of a degrading word (otherwise petname), hair pulling – I guess it’s pretty vanilla with a slight sprinkle of spice 🤭

Author’s note  (1): I know it sounds hella sad (and it is), but it is also very sweet and heartwarming too 💜 I wanted to venture into the darker stuff again, and embrace all the feelings and sadness that I felt a few weeks ago (I’m fine, well I’m getting through it at least). 

If you are triggered by any of the warnings, I suggest that you skip this. It’s not that explicit though, but the heavy subjects are still there and they feature in it a lot.

Also, the quote “people always leave” features a lot in this and I only now realize why I find it so familiar – it’s a famous quote from Peyton Sawyer from One Tree Hill.

Author's note  (2): It’s only partly edited, so I’m so sorry about any mistakes or weird wordings (English is also not my mother language). When I read it again, I felt sad and like the whole thing is crap (why do I also feel like this adgadfjkhs), BUT, I still like it, it’s a piece of my heart in there… I can’t just let it sit in my docs to collect dust. So – I’ll just post it early and never look at the thing again (expect for the cover, because damn I’m so happy with how that turned out 🥹).

Taglist: @keshiadeija @viankiss @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad If you prefer to read on AO3 you can also find it there 🙂

The heavens are weeping again, unleashing a torrential downpour that drums heavy on the windows. Just like the heavy beating of your heart and the tears that just won’t stop falling down your cheeks.

For days now, the world has languished in this disquiet, a foreboding atmosphere that has draped itself over every moment, casting a shadow even before the haunting ring of the call that echoed through the silence.

A searing, heart-wrenching call that etched itself into the fabric of your existence, standing out as one of the most agonizing moments life has ever dared to deliver.

Caught off guard by the unexpected twist of fate, it blindsided you, sending shockwaves through your core and leaving you utterly rattled, as if the very ground beneath your feet had shifted without warning.

Your conviction in her well-being crumbled as swiftly as a sandcastle against the tide.

In your last encounter, she radiated joy—her infectious happiness casting a brilliant glow over her words as she spoke about her new job, her blossoming romance, and her boundless love for life.

A tear, heavy with the weight of the contrast between then and now, traces a lonely path down your cheek.

The echo of her laughter, the sparkle in her eyes, and the unbridled excitement that made her hands tremble with anticipation haunted your memories. 

It's a heart-wrenching juxtaposition between the happiness she projected and the sorrow now etched into the fabric of your own emotions.

She wasn't just a friend; she was your confidante, a steadfast companion through the labyrinth of years and experiences. Your best friend.

In the tapestry of your friendship, she emerged as the resplendent thread, the one who consistently outshone the rest. 

Even on her darkest days, she radiated a brilliance that surpassed the ordinary, a celestial glow that left an indelible mark on your heart. To you, she wasn't just a friend; she was a luminous star, a breathtaking celestial entity whose untimely descent felt like a cosmic supernova, casting a blinding light that left everyone in its wake awestruck and forever changed.

Like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, the day she chose to end her own life blindsided everyone. 

The abruptness of her decision, the finality of calling it quits, left a haunting question echoing in the hollow chambers of your soul—why? 

The puzzle remains unsolved, the enigma of her despair a perplexing maze you can't navigate. Outwardly, her life seemed like a canvas painted in hues of contentment, yet the invisible struggles eluded comprehension. 

Despite the deep conversations that usually wove through the tapestry of your friendship, the darkness she harbored never surfaced in her words. Her choice to shroud her pain in silence remains an unfathomable mystery, a tragic paradox that still elicits a profound sense of bewilderment.

The haunting ‘what if’ lingers, an elusive specter of regret—what if she had shared her struggles with you? 

The possibility that your words could have been a lifeline is an uncharted sea of sorrow. The uncertainty, the unfulfilled potential for intervention, claws at your conscience like a relentless tempest.

In the wake of this unanswered plea for connection, tears cascade down your cheeks, each drop bearing the weight of unspoken conversations. The dampness on your collarbone, where your shirt clings uncomfortably, is a tangible reminder of the storm within. 

A mere few days have crawled by since that fateful call, the kind that alters the very fabric of reality. 

The echo of your friend's voice reverberates through your memory—a seismic revelation that shattered your world. As the words unfolded, you crumpled to the floor, the phone nearly slipping from your trembling grasp.

A gasp caught in your throat, a palpable surge of emotion crashing over you like a tidal wave.

In that harrowing moment, your heartbeat quickened, each thud resonating with the weight of sorrow and anger. The air itself seemed to constrict, tainted with the bitter aftertaste of an impending storm. The onslaught of emotions clawed at your chest, a tumultuous dance between sadness and anger, each one vying for dominance in the chaotic symphony of your soul.

Powerlessness wraps around you like a suffocating shroud, the absence of your brightest star leaving a void that seems insurmountable. 

In this moment of staggering loss, the future unfolds as a vast expanse of uncertainty. How do you navigate a world without the radiant glow she once brought to your existence?

Yet, as the weight of grief presses down, a resilient ember flickers within. Acknowledging the inexorable march of time, you realize that her memory, like a cherished constellation, will be a guiding light in the night sky of your life. 

In the tapestry of your emotions, she, alongside your parents, becomes one of the celestial beacons you look up to during moments of sorrow or when life's burdens become too overwhelming.

You step out onto the balcony, enveloped by the velvety embrace of the dark blue sky. 

The resplendent moon takes center stage, surrounded by a constellation of bright companions that twinkle in the vast expanse of the night. The beauty of the cosmos is a bittersweet solace, a celestial dance that captivates your gaze.

The night sky has always held a captivating allure for you, but in the wake of the profound loss of your parents, it transcends mere beauty. 

It becomes a sanctuary, a cosmic tapestry where memories linger among the stars. Each celestial beacon now carries the weight of cherished moments, transforming the night into a sacred canvas where the brilliance of your loved ones continues to shine, casting a radiant glow that lingers in the quiet moments of contemplation.

The subtle hum of your phone reverberates in your hand, a clandestine messenger that disrupts the tranquility of your thoughts, setting loose a cascade of emotions. 

The screen lights up with a message from a friend, its arrival like a seismic tremor in the landscape of your contemplations, shaking loose the delicate balance you've tried so desperately to maintain.

Yuna [20.31]: Iseul’s funeral is on Saturday. We’re all going. U coming?🌹

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach like a heavy anchor – the thought of attending the funeral feels like navigating a tempest of emotions you're not sure you're prepared to weather. 

The prospect of confronting tears, raw emotion, and the grieving presence of her family looms before you, casting a shadow over the already somber occasion. 

Yet, duty intertwines with reluctance; you were her best friend, after all. 

The expectation to pay your respects becomes an unspoken mandate, tugging at the seams of your resolve despite the storm of discomfort that brews within.

Tears have become an unwelcome torrent on your phone, transforming the smooth surface into a slippery terrain that complicates every attempt to type. 

The screen blurs beneath a watery veil, mirroring the tumultuous cascade in your own eyes. Distraction clings to each droplet, making it not only challenging to navigate the phone but also to see through the emotional downpour that clouds your vision.

But against the deluge of sorrow and the weight of grief, you summon the strength for a brief reply, a fragile lifeline tossed into the turbulent sea of emotions.

You [20.46]: Yes🌹

With a heavy sigh, you gently lay your phone face-down on the nightstand, as if shielding the illuminated screen from the weight of the world you've just momentarily set aside.

How do you navigate this desolate landscape that life has become? 

The void feels more palpable now, a haunting echo of emptiness that had lingered even before.

It's as if the very essence of existence has been drained away, leaving you grappling with the profound question: What is the point when the world around you continues to crumble, and people around you just keep dying?

At Iseul's funeral, you navigated the somber scene alongside your friend group, bracing for the emotional maelstrom that awaited. 

The atmosphere unfolded exactly as you had anticipated — a tableau of tears, grief-stricken family members, and the embrace of mournful hugs. Conversations echoed with memories of Iseul's radiant spirit, each word a bittersweet tribute to the bright and bubbly soul that once graced your lives. 

Amidst the collective sorrow, the air hung heavy with the weight of loss, weaving a tapestry of emotions that spoke to the indelible impact Iseul had left behind.

It was agonizing, bidding farewell in the harsh reality of acceptance. The harsh truth of life unveiled itself – an unrelenting cycle of departures. 

Yet, amidst the crushing finality, you find solace in the enduring promise that even though everyone leaves, the stars above will forever bear witness to her presence, a cosmic constellation of memories that will continue to illuminate the canvas of your nights.

Work persists in its mundane rhythm, the monotony punctuated only by the forced smiles you offer customers as you brew their coffee or recommend delectable treats in the cafe. 

For you, work has forever remained a sterile landscape, devoid of passion or purpose. The unfulfilled yearning for a meaningful career tugs at the edges of your consciousness, a persistent ache exacerbated by life's unrelenting cruelty—your unfinished degree in astrophysics stands as a testament to dreams deferred. Maybe you’ll go back to school – you don’t know.

Your thoughts are abruptly shattered by a brash intrusion, a man’s voice slicing through the ambient noise with an unwarranted familiarity. “Hi, pretty,” he drawls, snapping your attention to the present, “can I get a black coffee, a muffin, and your number, please?” 

The audacious request hangs in the air, leaving a charged pause that crackles with a blend of amusement and annoyance.

You stifle a silent scoff, a careful veil to conceal the simmering irritation within, though the indignation is palpable. 

This flirtatious interlude is far from novel—far from the first time someone has attempted to weave charm into the fabric of your workday. Yet, a discomforting truth lingers beneath your composed exterior: you disdain these unwarranted advances, a sentiment you've carried with you each time such encounters stain the ordinary canvas of your work.

Forcing a smile that feels more like a fragile mask, you locate a muffin, navigating the familiar routine with practiced efficiency. 

As you approach the coffee machine to craft the requested brew, you gather both items and, with a subtle sigh, slide them across the counter. 

Your words, delivered with a polite cadence, carry a hint of firmness as you say, “Here you go. Apologies, but my number isn't on the menu.”

Turning men down has become a skill honed through the crucible of experience, a necessity etched into the fabric of your being, especially after the wreckage of your last relationship. 

It wasn't just a breakup; it was a tempest that left you bruised, not only on the surface but also in the recesses of your soul. 

To declare a dread of relationships, despite the quiet longing that flickers deep within, would be an understatement—the mere thought evokes the echoes of a tumultuous past, a cautionary tale etched in both physical and emotional hues of black and blue.

Despite the man's disapproving frown, he begrudgingly parts with his payment, snatching his coffee and muffin.

As he vacates the space, you extend a tight-lipped greeting to the next customer, the forced smile a delicate masquerade concealing the intricacies of emotion churning beneath the surface.

Day after day unfolds in this relentless routine, a relentless loop where, despite the suffocating weight of depression, you muster the strength to haul yourself into work. 

The struggle is an unspoken battle, fought in the silent recesses of your soul, and each morning becomes a victory against the persistent darkness that threatens to engulf your spirit.

You maintain a lifeline to your friends, weaving a narrative of your somber mood and emotional tumult, acutely aware of the significance of vocalizing your feelings rather than succumbing to the perilous grip of silent suffering.

Recent conversations with your friends have taken an unexpected turn, steering into the realm of your dating life or, more accurately, its conspicuous absence. 

Their fervent advocacy for you to reenter the world of romance echoes in your ears, their well-intentioned pleas urging you to cross paths with someone great and amazing. 

However, you find yourself standing at the crossroads of uncertainty, unsure if you're ready to navigate the labyrinth of love once more. 

Despite your reservations, you indulge them, allowing their words to wash over you like a waterfall of unsolicited advice, all the while steadfast in your understanding that a man is not a prerequisite for happiness or the completeness of your life—you've long recognized your ability to stand firm and flourish on your own terms.

An entire season has unfurled its tapestry, and while the vast void persists within the caverns of your heart, there's a subtle transformation underway. Amidst the lingering shadows, a sliver of the sun's warm rays threads its way through, gently illuminating the emptiness. 

The caress of warm weather and sunlight manages to coax a faint lift in your mood, a subtle thawing of the emotional frost. 

Yet, amidst the burgeoning warmth, there's a yearning for the crispness of cold, the kind that invites the comfort of wool sweaters and socks, beckoning a desire to cocoon on the couch and lose yourself in the embrace of solitude.

After withstanding the relentless onslaught of your friends' persistent prodding into the realm of your love life, you've yielded to the chorus of their well-meaning badgering. With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, you've made the bold decision to reenter the intricate dance of the dating game.

The prospect of discovering 'the one' remains shrouded in uncertainty, a delicate balance between the promise of profound connection and the potential peril of heartache from those who might not treat you right. 

However, the ambiguity of the journey doesn't deter your resolve. To remain passive is to forfeit the chance at something extraordinary. 

The echoes of Iseul and the silent encouragement from your departed parents reverberate, urging you to embrace life with all its intricate hues. Their unwritten wish for your happiness becomes the compass guiding your path, compelling you to take the plunge and give it your all.

You yearn for a life where the pursuit of happiness isn't punctuated by the haunting inevitability of departures and loss. You grasp the harsh truth that people leaving or departing through death is an inescapable facet of existence, a relentless current in the river of life. 

Yet, the recurring tide of sorrow that washes over you each time someone departs feels burdensome, a weight that anchors your spirit. It would be a cherished reprieve if the ebb and flow of life's transitions didn't carry with it a relentless undertow that threatens to drag you down each time.

Your dating escapades have unfolded like a series of misadventures, each rendezvous more perplexing than the last. 

One suitor wielded an aggressive tone that eclipsed any potential connection, while another was so absorbed in self-interest that your voice seemed but an echo in the conversation. Then there was the one who sought solace in your company to mend a broken heart, an unwitting participant in their quest for emotional repair.

With every disappointing encounter, your hopes wane like the dying embers of a once-bright flame. Yet, undeterred, you persist in the pursuit of connection, a resilient soul navigating the unpredictable seas of dating with unwavering determination.

Amidst the tumultuous sea of advice from your friends, the suggestion of a night out clubbing emerges as a potential remedy to jumpstart your dating life—a one-night stand, a shortcut to reclaiming agency over your love life. 

However, the proposition fails to align with the essence of who you are. The neon-lit allure of the club scene doesn't resonate with your soul, and the idea of a fleeting encounter doesn't hold the promise you seek. 

Nonetheless, you find yourself engulfed in a pulsating sea of sound, the music in the club roaring, the bass reverberating through the floor and into your bones. 

The atmosphere is a maelstrom of heat and sweat, a suffocating embrace that intensifies your regret for being there. 

Yuna, exuding an air of confidence, takes charge and orders a round of drinks for the group. Meanwhile, Nari's eyes scan the lively chaos of the club, a vigilant matchmaker on a mission to uncover potential matches for you.

Her finger extends with a pointed certainty toward a mysterious figure—a dark-haired man sporting a sleeveless shirt, the canvas of his arm adorned with an intricate tattoo sleeve. His dark eyes, scanning the crowded expanse of the club, carry an enigmatic intensity, hinting at a captivating allure that goes beyond the surface.

Your laughter carries a blend of amusement and skepticism as you dismissively remark, “Nah, he's giving off major fuckboy vibes.”

Amidst the cacophony of pounding music in the club, Nari practically shouts in your face, her words punctuating the beat as she insists, “Maybe that's exactly what you need!” 

The intensity of her proclamation, a fervent plea for spontaneity, reverberates in the air, a challenge thrown into the whirlwind of the night's possibilities.

You shake your head, a firm yet polite rejection lingering on your lips, “No, thank you.” 

Just as the tension subsides, Yuna appears with a tray of drinks, a timely distraction. Gratefully, you accept your drink, savoring the sweet and sour concoction that dances across your palate, momentarily providing respite from the charged atmosphere of the club.

The night unfolds in a rhythm of measured indulgence—a few drinks to chase a gentle buzz, steering clear of the edge of intoxication. Your gaze scans the crowd in search of potential matches, but amidst the pulsating lights and swirling music, none captures the elusive spark that ignites a genuine interest.

As the night deepens and the rhythm of the club starts to fade, you bid farewell to your friends, the weight of the evening settling in your bones. 

Stepping out into the nocturnal air, you're greeted by the relentless cascade of rain, a torrential downpour that catches you off guard. Damn it, you realize, a surge of annoyance coursing through you, you didn't bring an umbrella.

Embracing a sudden burst of defiance, you make a split-second decision, a resolute ‘fuck it’ echoing in your mind. 

Stepping onto the sidewalk without the shelter of an umbrella, you surrender to the unrelenting rain. In mere moments, your hair clings to your skin, and your clothes succumb to the downpour.

As you navigate the labyrinth of alleys and pass by numerous apartments, a peculiar low noise infiltrates the ambient hum of the rain. What is that sound? 

It's a subtle yet persistent calling that arrests your movements, compelling you to strain your senses in an attempt to decipher its origin. 

It's not just your slightly tipsy mind, is it, playing tricks on you? 

The cadence of the noise feels like a desperate plea, an ethereal call for help that beckons you into a mysterious dance between reality and the unknown.

Undeterred by the absence of street lamps, you navigate a shadowy alleyway nestled between looming apartment complexes. The darkness cloaks the path ahead, but you press on, an intrepid explorer drawn to the mystery that lies beyond the veil of obscurity. 

As you draw nearer, the enigmatic noise crescendos in intensity, a haunting melody that pierces the quiet of the alley. 

Your steps quicken, and with each stride, the source becomes clearer. Could it be emanating from the depths of the dumpster?

A sense of déjà vu wraps around you, as if this eerie scene has been lifted from a cinematic reel. The dilemma tugs at your curiosity, tempting you to peer into the abyss of the dumpster, a choice that hangs in the balance. 

Yet, before you make a decision, a glimmer of relief washes over you. 

Nestled snugly beside the dumpster, a small ball of fur captivates your attention, its presence a stark contrast to the ominous shadows. 

A silhouette emerges from the darkness, and as you inch closer, the mystery unfolds into a shivering, meowing figure—a black cat. 

The frailness of the tiny creature tugs at your heartstrings, and you find yourself hunching down, extending a tentative invitation with soft calls, coaxing the small, ebony bundle to bridge the gap between its vulnerability and your outstretched hand.

The black cat fixes its gaze upon you, eyes mirroring a blend of uncertainty and wariness, as if it's attempting to decipher the intentions behind your outstretched hand. 

The black cat stirs from its initial hesitation, uttering plaintive meows that seem to echo its distress. As it rises, the stark reality becomes evident—malnourished and shrouded in fear, it moves tentatively towards you. Each step seems to echo a history of abandonment and struggle. With aching slowness, the feline inches closer, navigating the wet ground with trepidation. 

Softly, you beckon the malnourished feline closer, the words “Come here, you poor thing” carrying an invitation laced with compassion. 

As the tiny creature inches nearer, its pitch-black eyes become an intense focal point, a gaze that transcends the physical realm, peering into the depths of your soul. In that poignant exchange, a silent pact forms—an unspoken promise of comfort and understanding between two beings, each seeking solace in the other's company.

As the fragile black cat draws near, an echo from your past resurfaces—the cautionary words of your mother reverberating in your mind. ‘Black cats bring omen and death,’ her voice, etched in childhood memories, had warned. 

Yet, confronted with the stark vulnerability of this shivering, lost creature in the cold summer rain, you find your resolve tested. 

Against the weight of your mother's superstitions, compassion prevails, and you make a conscious decision to offer refuge. You haven’t got anything else to lose, but yourself.

The cat's purrs resonate in the quiet alley, a melodic response to the tentative connection forming between you. Meows become a symphony of trust as it finally caresses your hand, a delicate dance of vulnerability. 

With a newfound intimacy, it leans into your touch, climbing up your arm to find refuge in your lap. Despite your jacket's damp embrace, you pull the shivering creature closer, enfolding it tightly against your chest.

“I’ll take you home and get you some food.”

Rising from the damp alley, you cradle the tiny black cat in your arms, an intimate embrace that transcends the physicality of the moment. As you navigate the journey home, each step becomes a testament to the newfound connection—its fragile heartbeat resonating against your chest.

As you finally reach the sanctuary of your home, both you and the shivering cat are thoroughly drenched from the relentless rain. 

With a twist of the key, you unlock the door to your small apartment, ushering in a breath of warmth that contrasts sharply with the damp chill outside. 

In a choreography of relief, you kick off your sodden shoes, the cat nestled at your feet. Unburdened by the weight of the rain-soaked coat, you hang it on the rack, a visual symbol of the transition from the stormy world outside to the comforting refuge within the four walls of your home.

“I'll find you a towel and dry you off,” you promise to the cat, your words a tender reassurance before your feet. With a sense of urgency, you hasten to the bathroom, a quest for a towel becoming a mission to provide comfort to your newfound companion.

As you return, traces of wet footprints mark the path from the entryway to your living room, leading to the sight of the cat perched regally on your couch. 

The unexpected image elicits a sense of awe within you, a silent marvel at the fortuitous encounter that has unfolded. With the fluffy towel in hand, you join the tiny creature on the couch.

With gentle strokes, you tenderly dry the cat with the fluffy towel, the rhythmic purrs and meows resonating like a melody of gratitude. 

In this intimate act of care, a bond forms between you and the feline, its response a testament to the shared understanding that has quietly blossomed. 

The dampness of the storm may linger outside, but within the confines of your home, a warmth permeates, forged through the simple yet profound act of offering comfort to a fragile soul.

Persistently, the cat continues its chorus of meows, its nearly obsidian eyes fixed on you with an intensity that transcends mere feline curiosity. In the silent exchange, a profound question lingers in the air—what does it want? 

The gaze carries an almost pleading quality, an unspoken plea that invites you to unravel the mysteries hidden within those enigmatic eyes, and in doing so, embark on a journey of connection and understanding with this small, mysterious soul.

A revelation flickers in your mind like a sudden burst of light—food! 

The realization washes over you, and a spark of understanding illuminates the unspoken hunger behind those pleading eyes. “You're starving, ain't ya?” you murmur, the words a bridge between the two of you, an acknowledgment of shared needs and the beginning of a silent commitment to provide not just shelter but sustenance to this small, hungry soul.

In a hurried dance between care and necessity, you dart into the kitchen, swinging open the fridge door to unleash a blast of cold air. 

The realization that your wet clothes might lead to an impending cold nudges at you, urging a brief pause for self-care. As you contemplate changing into dry attire, the cat, now a nimble companion, weaves around your feet, a symphony of meows echoing its anticipation of the impending feast.

As your gaze sweeps across the contents of the fridge, a flurry of questions dance in your mind—what do cats like? 

In a moment of culinary improvisation, you spot the remnants of yesterday's fish. A hopeful assumption takes hold—cats like fish, right? 

Without a second thought, you snatch the container, crack it open, and ceremoniously place it on the floor. 

The cat descends upon the fish with a voracity that borders on desperation, consuming it in a whirlwind of seconds. 

You observe in silent fascination as the cat devours the fish with an almost primal fervor, each bite a testament to the depth of its hunger.

As the cat lifts its gaze, those dark, fond eyes fixate on you, a silent expression of gratitude that transcends words, forging a connection that lingers in the air like the sweet aftertaste of an unexpected bond.

You retrieve a bowl, fill it with water, and place it on the floor. The cat, having satisfied its hunger, wastes no time. It immediately dips its tongue into the water, each lap a testament to the thirst that had accompanied its hunger. 

In the quiet aftermath of the cat's meal, you find yourself engaged in a one-sided conversation. While it laps up the water, you speak to it with a hint of longing, as if expecting the feline to reveal its name with a mere glance. “I don't know what your name is…” you muse aloud, your words hanging in the air like a silent plea for connection. 

In the exchange, a profound yearning takes root—a desire not just to care for this creature but to unravel the mystery that shrouds it, beginning with the revelation of a name.

Hmm... A whimsical idea takes shape in your mind, and with a voice full of hope, you share your musings with the feline companion. “I don't know, maybe I'll give you one!” you exclaim, the words tinged with the excitement of a newfound connection.

Testing the waters, you propose a couple of names with a hopeful lilt in your voice. “Shadow?” you venture, eyes fixated on the cat, seeking any flicker of recognition. 

Yet, met with a stoic demeanor, you playfully offer another option, “Licorice?” 

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, but the cat remains unfazed, engrossed in its culinary pursuits. 

Embracing a sudden surge of inspiration, you think of a name that dances on the edges of whimsy and mischief. “You look like a 'Loki,' like a God of Mischief!” The words tumble out with a playful chuckle, a nod to the elusive charm that shrouds the feline. 

To your surprise, the cat interrupts its feast, casting what seems like a dumbfounded expression your way. 

A moment of shared acknowledgment hangs in the air before the cat resumes its meal, leaving you to wonder if, in that fleeting pause, you've glimpsed the spark of recognition in its enigmatic eyes.

An impromptu burst of enthusiasm seizes you, and with an abrupt yell, you christen the cat in a moment of whimsy. “Kitten!” 

The exclamation is so sudden that it startles the cat, prompting a small leap in surprise. “That's your name. You're so small, like a little kitten,” you playfully jest, mimicking the affectionate cooing one might give to a baby. 

In the imaginary realm where cats understand human whims, you half-expect a hypothetical eye-roll, as if the creature were a miniature human indulging in the theatrics of a quirky naming ceremony.

In the wake of your spontaneous naming ceremony, Kitten darts away, a streak of fur and energy leaving you in its playful wake. A fleeting attempt to follow its swift movements reveals the futility of keeping pace with this agile companion.

An earnest plea escapes your lips, “No, don't run away, Kitten!” A plea that halts not far from your bedroom, where a sudden idea takes root. “We're going to bed, and you can even sleep in my bed.” The promise hangs in the air, an invitation that sparks the cat's curiosity. 

Without hesitation, Kitten races back to you, weaving through your legs and darting into the bedroom. It watches itself in the mirror in front of your bed, before it in a graceful leap, lands on the bed, transforming this impromptu offer into a shared moment of warmth and companionship.

A soft chuckle escapes you as Kitten, with a graceful twirl, transforms into a snug, fluffy black ball. It settles onto the bed, a picture of contentment and trust, the rhythmic rise and fall of its breathing echoing in the room. 

In the sanctuary of your bathroom, the day's residue fades away as you delicately remove stained makeup and indulge in your nightly skincare rituals. 

With a sense of quiet reverence, you return to the bedroom, mindful not to disrupt Kitten's serene repose. Nestled in bed, you prop yourself up, the rhythmic routine a prelude to the tranquility that envelops the room. 

As you surrender to the embrace of sleep, the ethereal presence of the black cat becomes a silent companion in the journey between waking and dreams, a guardian of the night's secrets.

In the intimate company of Kitten, you find solace in the honesty of your own reflection. “He wasn't really for me, Kitten. I don't know why I keep going on these dates. They amount to nothing.” A sigh punctuates your admission, a subtle echo of the unspoken search for connection that seems elusive in the realm of human encounters. 

As you delve into a shared meal with your newfound family member – Kitten, you stuff your face with delicious food in an attempt to keep your minds off your failing romantic life.

Kitten responds to your words with a series of gentle meows, a seemingly agreeable chorus that resonates in the room. 

Over the past few days, he has transformed into an impeccable listener, absorbing the tapestry of your thoughts with silent grace. 

In the quiet moments of your soliloquies, a yearning surfaces—a desire for more than a feline confidant, for words that echo back with advice and wisdom. 

Yet, despite this unfulfilled wish, Kitten's silent companionship remains a source of profound comfort, his presence weaving seamlessly into the fabric of your daily life, a testament to the unexpected connections that emerge in the quiet interludes of solitude.

Consistent as the rhythm of a heartbeat, Kitten is there, a patient sentinel awaiting your return from the hustle of the day. 

His presence becomes a cherished routine, an embodiment of comfort that transcends the mundanity of the everyday. 

As you settle in front of the television, Kitten gracefully claims his place in your lap, his form snuggling into the contours of your warmth. 

The scene unfolds like a silent ballet, a dance between two beings finding solace in the quietude of shared moments—a testament to the profound bond that has blossomed in the intimate spaces of your daily life.

On a day marked by what you'd deem a successful date, you decide to bring the guy home to your apartment. 

Kitten welcomes you with joyous meows, but the moment his obsidian eyes lock onto the man, a palpable shift occurs. 

The cat's once-hospitable demeanor morphs into a display of territorial assertion—he hisses, claws unsheathed, a guardian of the sacred space that has become both haven and sanctuary.

Unfazed by Kitten's display of discontent, the man follows you into the bedroom, a trail of unresolved tension lingering in the air. However, as you attempt to navigate the fragile balance between human relationships and the silent protests of your feline confidant, Kitten stalks in with palpable anger. 

Kitten's claws assert their protest on the man's pants, a silent plea echoing through the room. “I'm so sorry about my cat. He's not usually like this,” you hastily apologize, attempting to navigate the tumultuous intersection of human connection and feline territoriality. 

In the midst of the uneasy dance, the guy gently guides you down onto the bed, a kiss bridging the gap between words left unsaid and the uncharted landscapes of desire.

In an unforeseen twist, Kitten catapults onto the bed, launching a surprise attack on the poor man's back with unbridled ferocity. 

The room erupts with a sudden commotion as the guy yells in pain, Kitten swiftly retreating to the shelter of your startled embrace.

Frustration and pain tinge the man's voice as he vehemently declares, “Fuck this. This isn't worth it! Your cat is a fucking psycho!” 

The words hang in the air, a bitter testament to the unexpected turbulence that has unraveled in the wake of Kitten's feline intervention. 

With an angry storm, the man storms out of your bedroom and through the front door, leaving behind a charged atmosphere and the unresolved echoes of a connection unraveling at the seams.

As the storm of emotions settles, Kitten finds solace in your lap, a contented purr resonating through the room—a feline sovereign basking in the aftermath of his territorial triumph. 

Meanwhile, you remain seated, mouth agape, an image of stunned disbelief etched across your face. 

You address Kitten with a scolding tone, attempting to impart a sense of reprimand into the air. “You can't do that, Kitten!” you assert, a firmness in your voice attempting to breach the language barrier between human and feline.

Amidst the aftermath, a hesitant chuckle escapes your lips, a soft attempt to diffuse the tension that lingers in the air. “Also, you're gonna leave me single forever if you do that,” you jest, the words bearing the weight of both humor and a subtle unease. 

In the ambiguous space between laughter and contemplation, you grapple with the conflicting emotions stirred by Kitten's unexpected display of protectiveness—a complex blend of gratitude, amusement, and the uncharted territories of understanding the intricate dynamics of companionship with a creature whose language transcends the boundaries of words.

A solitary figure with raven-black hair occupies a corner table in the cafe, his presence shrouded in an air of quiet mystery that tugs at the edges of your memory. 

Intrigued, you've stolen glances at him, an unspoken connection sparking curiosity within you. 

The man, seemingly lost in a world of words and sketches within the pages of his journal, emanates a strange familiarity that dances on the fringes of your consciousness. 

As he sips on his coffee, a poignant picture of solitude and anticipation, you can't help but wonder about the untold story woven into the fabric of his contemplative gaze. Perhaps he's a poet awaiting inspiration, or maybe, like you, he's caught in the delicate dance of anticipation, waiting for someone who may never arrive.

His long, pitch-black hair cascades in soft curls, framing a face adorned with dark, expressive eyes. The fair and creamy complexion of his skin, paired with lips tinged with the aftermath of fervent bites, adds an air of mystery to his features. His hands, adorned with prominent veins, move with purpose across the pages of his journal, translating the thoughts within his mind into tangible strokes. Clad in a black leather biker jacket and ripped jeans, he emanates a ‘bad boy’ allure that might not align with your usual preferences, yet there's an undeniable handsomeness that transcends the surface. As you observe, the truth unfolds—looks can be deceiving, you know.

As the hands of the clock inch towards the conclusion of your shift, you notice the enigmatic man with the pitch-black hair has vanished, leaving only the echo of his presence lingering in the now vacant corner. 

The air is charged with the unspoken allure of an encounter that slipped through the fingers of time. 

Packing up your belongings, you carry the weight of curiosity with you as you embark on the journey home, where the enigmatic enigma of Kitten awaits.

Kitten, sensing your return, greets you with a symphony of affectionate meows. Your hand instinctively reaches out, weaving a tapestry of gentle pats and strokes, an unspoken language shared between human and feline. With a contented sigh escaping your lips, you murmur, “Happy to be home.”

In the quiet sanctuary of your apartment, you find yourself recounting the day's enigmatic encounter to Kitten, the words lingering in the air like a shared secret between kindred spirits. “I saw the loneliest guy today, Kitten. It felt like he was waiting for someone, but destiny stood him up.” 

As the words escape your lips, Kitten's attentive gaze reflects an unspoken understanding, a silent pact shared between you and your feline confidant.

Your fingers delicately dance behind Kitten's ears, a gesture that elicits a symphony of contented purrs, resonating within the confines of your quiet haven. 

The next day unfolds like a familiar scene, the cafe's atmosphere steeped in the aroma of coffee and the rustle of pages turning. 

Once again, the mysterious black-haired man graces the corner with his presence, accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee and the enigmatic dance of his pen across the pages of his journal. 

Your curiosity, a flame flickering in the recesses of your thoughts, draws you to the edge of decision — to approach and unravel the mysteries that cloak him. Yet, an invisible barrier holds you back, a silent pact with yourself not to disturb the solitary poet whose verses remain unread. 

The elusive man, shrouded in the mystery of unread words, remains a realm unexplored, as each coffee order becomes a bridge guarded by your coworker.

As the day unfolds, the mysterious man persists in his corner, a captivating enigma that draws your attention like a moth to a flame. 

The rhythmic ballet of your daily routine continues, an intricate dance of serving customers while stealing glances in his direction. 

In the quiet recesses of your mind, a burning question simmers – who could possibly stand up this captivating soul, adorned with the allure of dark hair and an air of mystery that commands the room?

After days of observing the silent saga of the man and his solitude, a week of unbroken routine, your empathy swells like a rising tide. 

A magnetic force compels you to bridge the distance, and against the backdrop of the cafe's ambient hum, your feet, as if guided by an invisible hand, carry you to the table where he patiently awaits an absent companion. 

With a mix of curiosity and compassion, you settle into the chair opposite him, breaking the invisible barrier that held you apart.

As your presence disrupts the solitude he had grown accustomed to, his intense gaze, reminiscent of a predatory feline, lifts from the pages of his journal to meet your own. The sharpness in his eyes feels like a calculated assessment, causing a subtle tremor to course through you. You gulp.

“Hi,” you start, the uncertainty palpable in your voice. Attempting to mask your nervousness, your fingers run through your hair, a feeble defense against the anxious tide. 

“I’ve noticed you here alone for the past few days, and I just—” Your words stumble, caught in the rush, but before you can continue, he interjects with a voice sharp as a blade, his eyes piercing through you like he can unravel your deepest secrets. 

“Are you stalking me?” The question hangs in the air, and his gaze feels like an X-ray, laying bare your darkest thoughts. Your body seizes, frozen in the penetrating gaze that seems to pry into the very recesses of your soul.

Why does his voice carry a hint of familiarity, resonating through the air like an echo from another time?

His very presence, too, feels like a distant memory, even though you're certain you hadn't laid eyes on him before he entered the cafe a week ago. 

A subtle smirk plays on his lips, a realization dawning on you that he's asked a question. As you attempt to gather your thoughts, you find yourself choking on air, grappling to string together a coherent response.

“I'm kidding. I know you work here,” he chuckles, and you release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Your shoulders ease, and in an instant, you respond with a soft smile, a subtle connection forming in that shared moment of relief.

“Are you waiting for someone?” you inquire, and a smile graces his face, revealing gleaming white teeth and pink gums. He looks cute. Dangerously so.

“Nah. She just arrived.” Your eyes light up. Finally, his date has shown up! You start to rise from your chair, eager to make space for his companion. He looks up at you, a curious expression on his face, and asks, “What are you doing?”

“Making room for your date?” you quip, utterly dumbfounded.

“Date?” he asks with a raised brow. You nod, adding, “The one you’ve been waiting for.”

“But I’m already looking at her.” Your mouth hangs wide open; did you just hear him right? Is this a pickup line? And why on earth is it working?

You chuckle nervously, the sound a stark contrast to his calm and cool demeanor.

You ease back into your chair, and the conversation flows so naturally that you feel like you've known him for years.

Upon returning home, you excitedly share the details of your day with Kitten, recounting the encounter with the handsome man with his curly hair and piercing eyes. While you stroke Kitten and he purrs contentedly, you express your perplexity about the strange sense of familiarity the man emanated, despite being certain you've never met him before.

Kitten twirls and purrs in your lap, savoring the gentle strokes as you recline on your couch.

“I can't help but wonder if he'll be there again tomorrow,” you muse, your voice a soft melody to the room, accompanied by Kitten's content purrs.

He returned to the cafe the next day, and the next and the next turned into weeks.

He dedicates every moment to his secluded corner, and during your breaks you find solace in the cadence of your conversations. His name, Yoongi, resonates with the soulful poems that he breathes life into with his well-worn guitar. You’ve never heard him play or sing, but you look forward to the day you might.

His question pierces through the hum of the café, abruptly pulling you from your reverie as you delicately nibble on your muffin. “Are you heading home for the summer break?” he inquires, the unexpected interruption leaving a sweet and curious taste lingering on your lips.

As his question hangs in the air, you lock eyes with him, realizing he might not grasp the gravity of his inquiry. 

There's a momentary sag in your shoulders, a silent acknowledgment of the pain that lies beneath. Gathering the strength to respond, you share a piece of your past, “No. My parents died when I was young.”

Regret casts a shadow over his striking features in an instant, and you witness a profound apology escaping from his lips.

“I'm holding up okay. It's a tale from a while back. A car accident took my parents, leaving just my little sister and me as survivors,” you share, a poignant sadness threading through your words, your eyes misting with the memories.

He tenderly offers words of comfort, a soothing balm for your weary soul, and you allow him to lift the heaviness that clings to your spirit.

You beam at him, grateful for the warmth that radiates from his kind soul, a presence you've grown to cherish over the past few months. “And you, any exciting plans for the summer?”

“I might have to go home to my parents for a bit, but I’m not sure yet,” he shares, absentmindedly running his fingers through his soft black locks, a gesture that makes you yearn for the touch of your own hand in that sea of darkness.

“I'm telling you, bitch!” Nari slaps Yuna's thigh, a bit too enthusiastically, causing her to flinch in pain, as Nari adds with a sly grin, “She's head over heels in loooove.”

You roll your eyes at both of them, their playful banter fading into background noise as you savor the drink that Yuna ordered for you.

You've navigated downtown, finding refuge in a cozy establishment where the ambient tunes, board games, and drinks create the perfect backdrop for reconnecting with your friends.

“I swear, I'm not head over heels or anything,” you insist, batting away their teasing with a playful smirk, all the while sipping on the drink that Yuna ordered for you.

“He’s just nice,” you add with a soft smile.

“You sure do talk about him a lot,” Yuna adds in a chuckle as she rubs her thigh.

“Well, he's an interesting person, and the conversations just flow,” you reply with a grin, downplaying the significance, but your friends exchange knowing glances that hint at their suspicions.

Nari takes a sip of her drink, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Speaking of crushes, your little companion, what's his name again? Kitten?”

You passionately defend Kitten, your eyes sparkling with affection. “Don't bring Kitten into this! I adore him,” you gush, wearing your love for the little furball as a badge of honor.

Nari shares her romantic wisdom, her words dripping with affection. “Cats are fine companions, but you should find a man who can bring you warmth and happiness,” she says, her eyes practically turning into hearts if this were a cartoon. You can't help but chuckle at her earnest advice.

Yuna playfully nudges your shoulder and suggests, “You should totally ask out this Yoongi guy. I mean, come on, you practically light up every time you talk about him.”

You pause, a moment of uncertainty hanging in the air. “Maybe,” you finally reply, your words carrying the weight of contemplation.

Nari's enthusiasm rings in your ears, a bit too loud in the cozy ambiance. “You don't have anything to lose, only more to gain!” she almost shouts, her excitement reaching its peak. Her words, fueled by a touch of intoxication, linger in the air, leaving you to ponder as you consider whether it's time to call it a night.

“Okay. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

As you step into your apartment, Kitten greets you with an extra dose of affection, weaving himself between your legs and trailing you with heightened attention. Tonight, he appears more attuned to your every move, purring and twirling around your legs with an endearing neediness. Settling down, you can't resist his charms and find yourself seated, offering gentle strokes to his fur-covered frame.

As you wrap up your nightly routine and slip into your comfortable pajamas, you turn to Kitten with a question that has become a familiar part of your routine. 

“I'm heading to bed, Kitten. You joining?” Kitten promptly leaps onto the bed, taking his customary place by your side. 

However, tonight, there's a lingering sense of affection in his actions. He showers you with gentle licks, a gesture that brings a smile to your face. As sleep gradually claims you, your dreams are adorned with vivid images of obsidian eyes and a dark, star-studded sky.

As you awaken from a restful sleep, the absence of Kitten by your side strikes you like a sudden jolt. 

Your initial response is to sit up, calling out for him, yet there's only silence in return. 

The quietness, once comforting, now carries an eerie weight as you realize the profound impact Kitten has had on your daily life. 

The room feels emptier, and a sense of unease settles in, disrupting the peace you've grown accustomed to.

A wave of melancholy washes over you, creating a heavy ache in your chest as you scan the familiar corners of your apartment, desperately searching for any sign of Kitten. 

The unanswered questions pile up in your mind, a torrent of worries threatening to drown you. Did he, too, decide to leave, slipping away like others from your life? 

The uncertainty gnaws at you, pushing you to venture into the quiet streets, hoping against hope to uncover the fate of your feline companion. Each step is a mix of trepidation and determination, a journey into the unknown to retrieve the missing piece of your daily existence.

A sense of desperation tightens its grip as you scour every nook and cranny, but Kitten remains elusive, leaving you with the bitter taste of vanishing hope. 

The echoes of your unanswered calls hang in the air, blending with the growing unease that clings to you like a shadow. The once familiar spaces now feel like a maze, and you can't shake the sinking feeling that your luck is slipping away, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. The haunting question persists: where could he be, and what could have taken him from your side?

With a mixture of determination and trepidation, your feet instinctively carry you back to the cafe. 

The familiar chime announces your arrival, drawing the attention of your coworker, who casts a puzzled look your way. The early hour has caught them off guard, their raised eyebrow mirroring the questions that dance in your own mind.

As you scan the cozy confines of the cafe, a subtle panic begins to creep through your veins. The absence of Yoongi creates an uneasy knot in your stomach, but you reassure yourself, clinging to the hope that he might stroll in later, as he often does.

The hours drag on, each passing moment heightening the anticipation. As the door chimes with every newcomer, a flicker of hope dances in your chest, only to be extinguished when it's not Yoongi. 

The day becomes a symphony of disappointment, and the subtle hope you clung to begins to dissipate, slipping through your fingers like elusive grains of sand. The cafe, once a haven of warmth and comfort, now feels eerily empty without the presence of his familiar silhouette.

As your shift draws to a close, a heavy sadness settles over you like a thick fog. The absence of Yoongi, who always brought a touch of warmth to the cafe, leaves an emptiness that echoes through the familiar surroundings. The unanswered questions linger in your mind, and a nagging worry creeps in — what could have kept him away? 

The air is charged with uncertainty, and you can't shake the feeling that something might have happened to him.

A sudden realization hits you like a wave, as you recall Yoongi mentioning the possibility of traveling to his parents for the summer break. 

The initial sting of disappointment transforms into a pang of concern. Questions swirl in your mind like a tempest – did he leave without saying goodbye? Why didn't he share his plans with you? 

The uncertainty gnaws at your thoughts, and you grapple with the unknown, desperately seeking solace in the memories of your time together.

A disquieting sensation twists in your stomach, an ominous premonition casting a shadow over your thoughts. The unease tightens its grip, leaving you with an unsettling sense that something may have befallen Yoongi. 

Your mind races through various scenarios, each more distressing than the last, as you grapple with the haunting uncertainty that looms over his absence.

Regret echoes through your thoughts like a haunting refrain. The absence of contact details with Yoongi leaves you grappling with the repercussions of a missed opportunity, a seemingly insignificant detail now carrying the weight of your uncertainty. 

A sense of loss and yearning wraps around you, intensifying the void created by the absence of a farewell. The realization dawns that in the midst of budding connection, you failed to secure a bridge to traverse the distance that now separates you.

Each step on the journey home feels like a weighted march, the heaviness of unspoken goodbyes sinking into your bones. 

Sorrow, like a relentless tide, floods your heart, consuming it with an ache that echoes through each footfall. Familiar pangs of longing claw at your chest, constricting breaths into fleeting gasps. 

It's as if the very air you breathe carries the weight of an unfinished story, leaving you to navigate the foggy terrain of uncertainty, the poignant residue of an incomplete connection lingering in the spaces between each step.

A tempest of thoughts unleashes in your mind, a whirlwind of self-doubt and abandonment. The notion that he, too, might have slipped away like others before him wraps around your heart, squeezing it in an unforgiving grip. The ache is palpable, resonating through every fiber of your being. It's an anguish that cuts deep, a symphony of hurt orchestrated by the haunting possibility that echoes in the chambers of your wounded heart.

In the intricate tapestry of your time knowing him, he wasn't just a passing figure; he had etched himself into the mosaic of your life, becoming a fragment that held the essence of friendship. 

You step into the sanctuary of your apartment, liberating your feet from the constraints of shoes, and collapse onto the couch, surrendering to its plush contours that cradle you in a cocoon of solace.

In the midst of trying to regain control of your racing breaths, a subtle vibration resonates from your pocket, drawing your attention like a lifeline. Retrieving your phone, you cast an intrigued glance at the illuminated screen, revealing an incoming call from Yuna.

With bated breath, you answer the call, the familiar cadence of Yuna's voice instantly arresting your senses. 

An unexpected wave of emotions surges through you, freezing you in the moment as her words weave a narrative you weren't prepared for.

The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air, a heartbreaking tremor in her voice as she struggles to regain composure. 

“Babe,” she utters, the tearful plea slicing through the silence like a dagger.

You can feel the gravity of the situation intensify as she reveals, “It's Nari,” the name echoing with a sense of foreboding that pierces through the air, leaving you breathless.

Dread hangs thick in the air as you muster the courage to ask, your voice trembling with fear and concern. “What about Nari?” 

The words escape your lips, each syllable a hesitant step into the unknown, and as you sit up on your couch, a sense of urgency grips you, rendering you more alert than ever before.

The weight of Yuna's words crashes over you like an unrelenting wave, drowning your senses.

“She's gone,” Yuna sobs, her cries echoing in your ears. 

A sudden chill grips your entire body, and the world around you blurs as your vision turns white.��

Tears well up, threatening to spill over, and an indescribable ache settles in the core of your being. It feels as if the ground beneath you has shifted, leaving you suspended in a surreal and devastating moment.

Your voice quivers as you manage to break through the numbness, the question escaping your lips like a fragile whisper. 

“How?” you repeat, the word catching in the tightness of your throat. Tears cascade down your cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of an ocean, a torrential release of the overwhelming emotions within you. 

Your friend's voice wavers with sorrow as she delivers the painful revelation. “Apparently, she was sick and didn’t tell anybody…” 

Each word, heavy with the burden of the unspoken, echoes in the emptiness of your apartment.

The truth, a bitter pill to swallow, lingers in the air, and you find it hard to comprehend the reality of the situation. 

The walls of your sanctuary, once comforting, now press in on you, transforming your home into a claustrophobic cage of grief. The world outside seems to blur, and all that remains is the weight of disbelief settling on your shoulders.

The longing to share your grief with Yoongi intensifies, yet the barrier of not having his contact details becomes a painful obstacle. Your emotions, already tumultuous, now surge like a tempest within. 

Frustration and sorrow intermingle, a chaotic dance that you try to contain. 

As the weight of the news presses down on you, your nails unconsciously dig into your skin, seeking an outlet for the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume you. The physical pain becomes a tangible manifestation of the emotional turmoil churning within.

The abruptness of Nari's illness and passing hits you like an unforeseen storm, leaving you grappling with disbelief. 

Memories of her last moments flash vividly, and you question the cruel twist of fate that snatched away someone seemingly healthy. The sounds of inconsolable sobbing echo in your ears, and only then do you realize that the mournful cries tearing through the air belong to you. 

“Are you alright?” Yuna asks you in sobs.

The weight of grief presses down on you, suffocating and relentless. 

As the tears stream down your face, each one carries a piece of the pain that now resides within you. 

“No,” you whisper, the word a feeble attempt to encapsulate the magnitude of your despair. 

Your body curls inwards, seeking solace in the fetal position, as if you could fold away the anguish. 

The phone lies beside you, a lifeline to Yuna's distant sobs, but it offers little comfort compared to the absent warmth of Kitten, whose presence could once bring solace to even the darkest moments.

The weight of Yuna's words hangs heavy in the air, a shroud of truth that you're forced to confront. “Babe, she had cancer and didn't want us to know… She wanted to live a happy life until the end,” 

Yuna sobs again, and though her intent is to offer solace, the revelation feels like a cascade of heavy stones on your already burdened heart. The bitter sweetness of her desire for a joyful life juxtaposed with the pain of her silent struggle adds another layer to the grief, leaving you to grapple with the complexities of Nari's hidden battles.

“Yuna…,” you cry, the anguish in your voice echoing the profound pain that seems to squeeze the very life out of your heart. 

“Why does everyone leave?” 

The question hangs in the air, more rhetorical than expectant, as if you're not seeking an answer from Yuna but grappling with the cruel patterns of departure that life has woven into the fabric of your existence. 

Each departure, like a thread pulled from the tapestry of your world, leaves an unraveled piece that never quite knits itself back together.

“I–, I don’t know,” she stammers through her tears, the weight of the unknown echoing in her voice, mirroring the uncertainty that now shrouds both of your lives.

“Promise we’ll be there for each other,” you declare, the weight of the words hanging in the air. It's a poignant plea, an acknowledgment of life's unpredictable twists. You understand that you can't ask for an eternity, but in this moment, you're determined to hold onto each other as tightly as time allows.

“Count on it,” she vows, her response flowing effortlessly, a testament to the unspoken bond between you two.

Despite the tightening in your throat, a glimmer of happiness sparks within you at the assurance she just gave.

Why must life be so fucking cruel, robbing you of everyone you hold dear?

An overwhelming urge to reconnect with your sister washes over you, a deep yearning fueled by the ache of prolonged silence between you.

“I want to call my sister,” you manage to say through your sobs, a desperate plea lacing your words. “Will you be alright, Yuna?” you ask, your concern breaking through the waves of grief that surround you both.

“Yeah. I mean, I'm fucking sad, but go ahead and call her. Can I come to your place tomorrow?” Yuna's voice carries a subtle plea, a shared understanding that neither of you wants to be alone in the midst of sorrow.

“Yeah, I'd love that,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of grief and the faint glimmer of gratitude for the companionship that awaits tomorrow. As you attempt to dry your tears with a throw blanket on the couch, the room feels emptier than ever, and the ache in your heart persists.

“See you tomorrow,” she says before the call ends. 

The hollowness in the room deepens, and you draw in a shaky breath, your gaze fixed on your phone. The background image captures a moment frozen in time, featuring you, Nari, and Yuna. 

God, the ache of missing her intensifies, and you can't shake the heaviness in your chest.

You tighten your grip on the phone, each tear that escapes your eyes a silent testament to the pain in your heart. Determination wells up as you locate your sister's number, fingers tracing the familiar digits, ready to bridge the gap that time and distance have carved between you.

The rhythmic ringing echoes through the emptiness of your apartment, each tone a reminder of the solitude that now envelops you. 

Anxiety gnaws at the edges of your thoughts as you anticipate the warmth of your sister's voice, a comfort you desperately need. Yet, the unanswered calls amplify the distance that separates you. With a heavy heart, you decide against leaving a message, the weight of unspoken words settling as you slump back onto the couch.

The sudden vibration of your phone startles you, and as you glance at the screen, the sight of your sister's name sparks a mixture of relief and anticipation. With a soft sniffle, you muster the strength to answer, “Hey, sis,” your voice laced with a blend of vulnerability and longing, reaching out across the digital expanse to bridge the emotional gap that separates you.

A chill courses through your body, rendering you motionless, as a deep, resonant voice resonates through the phone, catching you off guard.

“Hey,” his voice echoes through the phone, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Your trembling hand clutches the device, and you find yourself holding your breath, caught in the sudden intensity of the moment.

“I'm Detective Kim,” he introduces himself, his voice echoing through the line. It carries a calm demeanor, yet beneath its surface, you detect a subtle undertone of sadness, adding a mysterious depth to his words.

This can't be good, you murmur to yourself, the words barely escaping your lips as a chill courses through your veins, turning your blood to ice once again.

“Are you Jiho's sister?” The detective's voice remains steady and calm, but beneath the surface, you sense an undercurrent of gravity and anticipation.

“Yes,” you reply, your voice catching in a sob as you struggle to contain your tears. The ominous feeling intensifies, and you can't shake the sinking realization that a detective is the one answering your sister's phone. 

The air becomes heavy with uncertainty and fear.

“I'm deeply sorry to be the bearer of this news,” he begins with a sympathetic tone. 

You inhale sharply, bracing yourself for the impact of the words that follow.

“Your sister has passed away.” 

The world seems to shatter around you as the weight of his message settles in, leaving you breathless and heartbroken.

In that devastating moment, it feels as if the very foundation of your existence crumbles. 

Your body and soul plummet through a void, each passing second an agonizing countdown to the inevitable impact that will shatter you into a million irreparable pieces. 

The weight of grief bears down on you, and you're suspended in a free fall of despair. 

You become acutely aware of your breath, or the lack thereof, as if the air itself has turned into a suffocating force, triggering a torrent of violent inhalations, each one a desperate attempt to grasp onto a reality that has just slipped through your fingers.

A heavy silence envelops the room as the detective imparts the devastating truth, each word landing with the weight of a sledgehammer on your fragile emotions. “She was killed,” he utters, the somber notes in his tone resonating like a funeral dirge, casting a pall over the already dim reality of your world.

A suffocating wave of panic crashes over you, rendering your extremities numb and your breath caught in the grip of invisible hands. 

The room seems to close in as the detective's voice on the phone becomes a distant echo, his words lost in the disorienting whirlwind of your own mental tempest. It's a struggle to comprehend the standard condolences and procedures he details, as if reality itself is slipping through your trembling fingers.

Fucking hell. Is this hell?

In the wake of your parents' departure, you believed you had tasted the bitterest sorrow, yet today eclipses that agony without a shadow of a doubt.

You cast your phone aside on the couch, retreating to your bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. The anguish within erupts into violent sobs, an unrelenting torrent of tears flooding from your eyes, your entire frame convulsing with the weight of your grief.

You bury your face into the softness of the pillow, muffling the guttural scream that tears from your lungs. 

The sound, a primal release of anguish, reverberates within the confines of your room. Screw the neighbors; right now, the universe needs to bear witness to the rawness of your pain.

What the fuck is up with this world? Everyone around you dies! Everyone leaves!

You can’t take it anymore.

As you surrender to the torrents of grief, you hope that tears might offer solace, a fleeting relief that could pave the way for much-needed sleep. Yet, despite your desperate attempts, the embrace of slumber eludes you, leaving you trapped in the clutches of your sorrow-soaked thoughts.

In an impulsive surge, you opt for a nocturnal stroll. Snatching your jacket, you step into the silent night, the residue of dried tears blending seamlessly with the ones that refuse to cease. 

The moon above, a silent witness to the turmoil within, as your footsteps echo the rhythm of a heart weighed down by grief.

As you traverse the familiar streets of town, a magnetic pull guiding you to a cherished park, your sanctuary. Swiftly, you arrive and gingerly settle your weary frame onto a weathered bench, the cool night air offering a gentle caress to your battered soul.

As your gaze ascends to the enchanting tapestry of the night, a celestial dance of stars unfolds above. Tonight, the cosmic expanse seems to cradle the spirits of your sister and Nari, their luminous presence illuminating the vast darkness, a celestial reunion among the constellations.

As your tears persist, you fix your eyes upon the star-lit canvas above. Each gleaming star appears like a radiant jewel, casting an ethereal glow across the night. The beauty is undeniable, yet a poignant sadness lingers in your heart. 

Compelled by an unspoken yearning, you embark on the solemn task of counting the stars, each one a celestial tribute to the cherished souls who now adorn the heavens. 

The question echoes in your mind: Why?

Why do they blaze with such brilliance, akin to a dying star igniting in a final, magnificent burst before consuming everything in its cosmic embrace?

Your heart pounds violently against your ribcage, each beat echoing through your chest, and the air feels elusive, slipping away as if you're caught in a suffocating grip.

Life reveals its cruel nature, leaving you to grapple with the relentless question: Why does everyone leave? Why does the world around you crumble, stealing away those you hold dear?

An emptiness envelopes you, a void so profound it swallows every ounce of light. Darkness creeps in, and an irresistible urge emerges, coaxing you to surrender to its consuming embrace.

Perhaps it's time to release your grip on reality and join the celestial dance of those who have departed before you?

As the tears flow, perhaps this haunting void within will dissipate, bringing an end to the relentless ache that permeates every fiber of your being.

As the weight of loneliness bears down on you, an insidious desire to surrender, to slip into an eternal slumber, creeps through your shattered heart. The yearning for an endless sleep, where the fractured pieces of your soul find solace, consumes you. It's as if the very essence of your being is crumbling into irreparable fragments.

The fragments of your soul lie scattered, and the daunting question echoes in the hollow chambers of your despair—can you summon the strength to mend them once more, to piece together the shattered remnants of your being?

In the depths of your despair, a resolute realization surfaces — a quiet but unwavering knowing that, despite the relentless cruelty, you're not ready to surrender to the void. Life, as brutal as it may be, still holds threads of resilience within its intricate tapestry, and you find an ember of strength glowing amidst the shadows.

You divert your gaze downward, focusing on your hands nestled in your lap, choosing the tangible reality of your own existence over the distant allure of the star-studded night.

You harbor too many aspirations to surrender to despair. Your desires paint a vivid canvas of dreams: to find solace in the embrace of a kind-hearted partner, secure a fulfilling career, and relish the simple joys that life offers. Nari's silent battle with illness inspires you to embrace life with the same gusto, celebrating its moments without the need for validation.

In the midst of your fragmented existence, amidst the shattering pain, you crave it all. Yearning for the entirety of life's tapestry, even when it feels like it's unraveling. 

Despite life's cruelty, there's an undeniable allure in its intricate beauty, compelling you to seek solace and embrace the stunning contradictions that define your life.

Amidst the tear-stained path, your resolve solidifies. 

The decision made, you tread back to your apartment, the silent witness to your inner turmoil. Each step echoes with the weight of your emotions, a symphony of sorrow playing in the background. 

The sanctuary of your home beckons, promising the respite that only sleep, albeit restless, can bring. Sleep, like a long-lost friend, embraces you swiftly this time. Grateful for the solace it brings, you sink into its comforting arms, the reprieve from the turmoil of the day unfolding like a gentle lullaby.

The chime of the doorbell resonates through your apartment, and you're roused from the depths of sleep. Yuna, true to her word, stands on the other side, a beacon of support in your time of need.

Embraced in a tight hug, tears stream down both your faces, the shared weight of grief transforming the silent embrace into a powerful testament of mutual understanding and shared sorrow.

Seated on the couch, you engage in a heartfelt conversation about the unpredictable journey of life—its highs and lows. 

As a comforting silence settles between you, you reach for the remote and, with a flicker of distraction, decide on a mindless show. Wrapped in the embrace of shared grief, you find solace in the soft glow of the television, its images casting a gentle veil over your weary souls.

That night, Yuna stays over, a comforting presence that feels like a blessing in the midst of your overwhelming grief.

In the vulnerable hours of the night, you pour your heart out to Yuna. 

Tears flow freely as you share the ache of losing your sister, the void left by Kitten's absence, and the fear that Yoongi might be gone forever. In the solace of shared sorrow, you find a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows.

In the tender embrace of Yuna, you find solace. Her comforting presence is a lifeline in the storm of grief, holding you close as tears cascade. Though she's often your pillar of strength, tonight you yearn to reciprocate, to be the support she's always been for you. It's a quiet understanding, an unspoken pact between friends navigating the unpredictable currents of life.

In the quiet depths of the night, as you share your pain with Yuna, a flicker of determination ignites within you. You yearn not just for solace but to become the architect of your own joy. The realization dawns that your happiness lies in the unwritten chapters of your own journey, waiting to be explored and embraced. It's a moment of self-discovery, a commitment to forge your path to happiness, independent and resilient.

With the dawn of a new day, you decide to embark on a journey of self-discovery. 

Despite the weight of sorrow lingering in your chest, you resolve to savor life in all its transient splendor—embracing its beauty, acknowledging its ugliness, and reveling in every nuanced shade in between. 

Each moment becomes a canvas, and you are determined to paint it with the vibrant strokes of resilience and newfound appreciation.

With unwavering determination, you approached your boss at the café, advocating for a shift in your work hours. The goal? To rekindle the pursuit of knowledge, to step back into the world of academia and reignite the spark of astrophysics that had once fueled your passion. 

As the prospect of returning to school looms on the horizon, you recognize that the journey ahead is both a challenge and an opportunity—a chance to sculpt a future that you can genuinely be proud of, with each completed course marking a triumph over self-doubt and a step closer to the constellations of your dreams.

In the wake of that poignant night where two cherished souls departed, a few months have quietly slipped away. 

In a tender gesture of support, Yuna encourages you to embrace the prospect of love once more. Unlike before, hesitation has no place in your heart this time. 

With newfound courage, you step into the realm of dating, a journey tinged with both vulnerability and hope, as you navigate through the tapestry of emotions woven by the threads of the past and the promises of the future.

Life, a relentless journey, doesn't yield to simplicity, yet within its intricate folds, a subtle transformation occurs. It doesn't unravel swiftly, but with each passing day, it stitches together a mosaic of improvement, a gradual emergence from the shadows into the dappled light of a better tomorrow.

With each sunrise, a symphony of healing orchestrates within you, crescendoing into a melody that resonates louder, and you find solace in the fact that every dawn gifts you a version of yourself stronger and more resilient than the preceding day.

As winter unfurls its icy embrace, you find solace in the familiar touch of your cherished wool coat, the cozy sanctuary of fluffy sweaters enveloping you like a hug from a dear friend, and the softness of warm socks cradling your every step. 

With a steaming cup of tea in hand, you dive into your studies, the brisk air outside contrasting with the warmth that courses through your veins.

Embarking on the journey to reclaim an unfinished chapter of your life, returning to the hallowed halls of academia, you revel in the triumphant echoes of resilience as you strive to complete the narrative you once set in motion.

As you tread homeward, the city draped in the melancholy hues of twilight, a fleeting silhouette dashes through the alleys, a phantom of darkness. 

For the briefest moment, memories of Kitten's playful escapades dance in your mind, a bittersweet symphony of nostalgia. 

A sigh, heavy with the weight of longing, escapes your lips, yet you trudge forward, navigating the shadows toward the warmth of your home.

In the intimate glow of your kitchen, you conjure a culinary masterpiece, a symphony of flavors orchestrated only for yourself. The sizzle of ingredients harmonizes with the rhythmic beat of your heart, a ritual of self-love that has become your refuge. 

Many a time, you've crafted these delectable creations, some shared in the company of fleeting dates whose presence, like autumn leaves, brushed briefly against the canvas of your life, but leaving no lasting imprint on your heart.

Midway through the mundane task of stowing away dishes, a subtle and mysterious hum reverberates through your abode, originating from the vicinity of your door.

The air is suddenly filled with a familiar, distant melody—a soft and rhythmic meowing that sends a jolt of excitement through you. 

Abandoning your chores, you rush to the door, fingers fumbling with the lock, and there, in all his glory, stands Kitten!

In a flurry of warmth and relief, you scoop up the cold, shivering Kitten into your embrace, quickly closing the door behind him. His meows echo gratitude, and a tender lick against your cheek seals the unspoken bond that time and distance failed to break.

In a million moments, you never fathomed seeing him again. Now, as he rests in your arms, elation courses through you like a celestial symphony, leaving you over the moon with sheer happiness.

His return is a testament to a bond beyond time, a friendship that defies the measure of days. It's not about the duration of his absence; it's about the joyous truth that he returned to you, stitching the fragments of your heart back together.

You rush to your cabinet, your heart pounding with both relief and excitement. Grabbing a can of cat food, you swiftly prepare a feast for Kitten, watching as he eagerly devours the meal, his hunger echoing the void his absence left in your life.

As you stroke Kitten's fur, you can't help but ponder on the mysteries that shroud his disappearance. His body, while not emaciated, carries the silent tales of his adventures. 

You yearn to unravel the chapters of his feline escapades, wishing you could converse with him, share the unspoken hardships, and assure him that he's found a forever home in the warmth of your embrace.

In a breathless whisper, you confess, “I've missed you so much,” the weight of your longing carried in the tenderness of your voice. 

A solitary tear, a testament to the emotions flooding your heart, escapes and dances down your cheek, mirroring the joy of a reunion long yearned for.

As the echoes of your affectionate words linger in the air, Kitten responds with a gentle purr, a harmonious melody that intertwines seamlessly with the sound of him relishing the meal.

Amidst the soft cadence of Kitten's purring, you find solace in the familiar presence of your feline companion. With a sigh, you decide to share the intricacies of the tumultuous journey you've undertaken since his absence. “So much has unfolded, Kitten,” you whisper, your voice a gentle reassurance, “a lot of shit, but also a lot of good.”

As Kitten finishes his meal, he responds with a symphony of content purrs, gracefully padding over to where you crouch. With a playful nudge against your legs, he seems to convey a silent acknowledgment, a shared moment of warmth and connection between old friends.

In the span of a few days, the void that Kitten's absence left has been filled with the comforting rhythm of his presence. You've poured out your heart to him, recounting the events and emotions that unfolded during his time away, as if catching him up on the chapters of your life. 

Kitten, with his attentive eyes and soothing purrs, seems to understand more than most, providing a silent anchor in the storm of your experiences.

As you sink into the soft embrace of your couch, a contented smile plays on your lips. With Kitten nestled beside you, you share a profound realization that has taken root in your heart: ‘I live, so I love.’ The words hang in the air, a testament to the resilience you've found in the face of life's unpredictable twists. The TV hums with background noise, but in that moment, the simple joy of companionship fills the room.

In the quiet solitude of your apartment, you confide in Kitten, the loyal companion who has witnessed both your joys and sorrows. “I don't think he's coming back,” you murmur, a tinge of sadness lingering in your voice. As if attuned to your emotions, Kitten responds with a gentle meow, a feline reassurance that transcends words. 

In the rhythmic cadence of your words, a sense of vulnerability emerges. “I know, I know. I don't need a man in my life. I get that,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of self-awareness.

The clinking of utensils against pots and pans provides a subtle percussion to your thoughts as you continue, “But Yoongi was special, you know? Like he just got me... and I just wish for him to be happy doing whatever he's doing.” The aroma of dinner fills the air, mingling with the unspoken sentiments swirling in the room.

As you delicately feed Kitten some steamed broccoli, the notion of reuniting with Yoongi lingers in the air. “If he comes back, you should meet him – I'll introduce you!” The words spill from your lips, carrying a hopeful melody.

As you reminisce about Yoongi, a fond smile plays on your lips. “He's such a wonderful person. And handsome? Oh, his hands,” you begin, tracing the air with your fingers as if you can feel the texture of his presence. Memories flood back, each detail etched in your mind like a cherished photograph. “Long fingers, veiny hands,” you murmur, the words infused with a hint of admiration that even surprises you. The love for this man reverberates in your voice, a quiet confession to the depths of your feelings.

Kitten's melodic meow serenades the room as he gracefully weaves between your feet, his tail coiling affectionately around your calves like a comforting embrace.

“If you meet him, please don’t claw his back out like you did with that other guy. Yoongi is nice.”

With a heavy heart, you confide in Kitten, the weight of your worry evident in the rhythmic tapping of the spatula against the sizzling vegetables. “It's been nearly half a year, and I can't shake the feeling that something might have happened to him,” you murmur, the crackling sounds of the kitchen offering a somber backdrop to your uncertainty.

As the warmth of the meal envelops you and Kitten, you sit together, a silent companionship settling over the room. The simplicity of this moment strikes you, and a quiet realization unfolds – you love your life just as it is. 

In the shared silence, you feel a sense of wholeness, a testimony to the goodness found in life's simplicity. Though your heart may still ache at times, you've come to accept that, too, as a part of the beautiful complexity that makes life what it is.

You're keenly aware that time is the remedy for healing, a gentle but persistent force that gradually eases the ache until one day, the pain will be a distant echo of what it once was.

Your weary limbs protest against the demands of a full-time class schedule and cafe shifts, revealing the hidden challenges of your daily grind. Fatigue clings to you like a shadow, and an involuntary yawn escapes.

With a wearied sigh, you address Kitten, your loyal companion in fatigue. “Ah, Kitten, today's been a battle. I'm going to bed early today,” you murmur, dragging your exhausted body to the bathroom in a nightly ritual. 

Upon returning to your sanctuary, you find Kitten, already nestled in his customary spot, a comforting presence in the silent embrace of the night.

Sinking beneath the cozy duvet, you surrender to its tender embrace, the fabric cocooning you in a haven of softness. With a gentle pat, you acknowledge Kitten, “Thank you for being here,” you murmur before succumbing to the enchantment of dreamland.

As consciousness tiptoes back into your awareness, the remnants of dreams linger like elusive whispers in your mind. Gently awakening, you open your eyes to find the absence of Kitten.

Your eyes widen in astonishment, and your body tenses as you absorb the scene unfolding before you—a man, peacefully lost in the realm of dreams. 

Your gaze follows the cascade of long, slightly curly, obsidian hair that drapes over his shoulders, tracing the contours of his creamy white skin. The play of morning light reveals a well-defined back, drawing your eyes down the elegant curve of his spine until they come to rest on a small, soft, plum-like ass. The realization hits you like a bolt— he's completely naked!

Why is your heart orchestrating a rapid symphony, each beat echoing in your ears like a thunderous drumroll? And what in the world is a naked stranger doing sprawled across your sheets as though he belongs there?

He slumbers in serene oblivion, emitting soft, melodic sighs that weave through the air, his chest gracefully ascending and descending in rhythmic dance with each tranquil breath.

Wait. 

He seems familiar.

A gasp escapes your lips as you take a closer look, and the realization hits you like a bolt of lightning – it's Yoongi! 

Shock and disbelief intertwine in your chest as you stare at his peaceful slumber.

Confusion and a hint of panic surge through you as your mind races with questions. 

Why is Yoongi in your bed, and why on earth is he naked?

How did Yoongi end up here, and where is Kitten?

A myriad of questions spins through your mind, a turbulent storm of curiosity. As you ponder the mysteries, you belatedly notice Yoongi stirring, gracefully shifting to lie on his back.

Your face burns with embarrassment as the realization dawns that he's still completely naked. Heat rises to your cheeks when his half-erect dick brushes against his stomach, prompting you to instinctively shield your eyes, flustered by the unexpected sight.

You wrestle with the dilemma of whether to disturb his serene slumber or let him continue resting peacefully. The soft innocence in his sleeping form makes the decision more challenging, and you lean towards allowing him to bask in the tranquility of his dreams undisturbed.

Gently, you drape the comforting warmth of your duvet over him, a shield against the chill of the room. With nimble movements, you extract yourself from the bed, careful not to disturb the delicate balance of his slumber.

Confusion seizes your thoughts as you grapple with the surreal scenario—Yoongi peacefully nestled in your bed. You wrack your brain, questioning every sober memory, desperately trying to unearth the missing pieces that would explain his presence.

You step into the kitchen, a fleeting sense of unease prickling at your skin as you scan the room for Kitten, but he remains elusive, leaving a trace of uncertainty in the air.

A twinge of melancholy washes over you as Kitten remains elusive, but you console yourself with the hope that he might return, his absence merely a temporary void in your otherwise comforting routine.

You embark on the simple yet intimate act of preparing two steaming cups of coffee—one for yourself and one for the unexpected visitor who occupies your bed.

You seize a handful of aromatic coffee beans from a vintage jar, letting the rich fragrance envelop you as you crush them under the steady hum of your machine. With precision, you measure out the perfect amount, combining it with hot water, allowing the concoction to brew into a comforting elixir.

While the coffee brews, your mind races with bewildering thoughts about Yoongi's unexpected presence in your bed. Puzzlement clouds your senses as you contemplate every conceivable scenario. 

Did he let himself in? Was there some mysterious way he could have gained access? 

With a touch of anxiety, you even venture to your front door, checking for any signs of unauthorized entry, only to find it securely locked, shrouded in an eerie silence.

You're grappling with the perplexing mystery of Yoongi's appearance in your bed, as if he materialized out of thin air, defying all logic and reason, leaving you spellbound by the inexplicable magic that seems to have woven its way into your ordinary reality.

In the quiet chaos of your thoughts, Yoongi's presence offers more questions than answers, an enigmatic puzzle that seems to defy the ordinary. The absence of Kitten only adds another layer of mystery to the unfolding scene. 

As the coffee machine dings, disrupting the contemplative silence, you're left grappling with the surreal conundrum before you, seeking clarity in the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

With the warmth of freshly brewed coffee in your hands, you reenter the bedroom to discover Yoongi, now alert, draped in your duvet, a captivating silhouette in the soft morning light.

Your greeting falters as you nervously stammer, “H–, Hi,” setting the two mugs of coffee on your nightstand. Yoongi's gaze, sharp and feline-like, traces your every move, creating a palpable tension in the air.

An unfamiliar nervousness grips you in his presence, an unusual sensation considering your usual ease around him. Perhaps it's the fact that he's naked, his gaze akin to a predator eyeing down its prey, intensifying the air with an unspoken tension.

“Hey,” finally breaking the silence, he greets you with a low grumble, scratching his head and letting out a lazy yawn.

His body exudes a captivating blend of softness and defined muscles, a captivating sight that—

His voice, laced with a teasing smirk, breaks the tension. “Can't stop staring at my dick, huh?”

Your throat tightens as you realize you've been caught in the act, silently observing him. Panic sets in – does he think you're a freak now? Fantastic.

You let out a nervous chuckle, deliberately shifting your gaze away from the obvious bulge in the duvet around his lap. “What are you doing here, Yoongi? And why are you naked?” you inquire, genuinely puzzled.

He chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a tinge of unease. “You haven't figured it out yet?” he teases, his words hanging in the air, leaving you in suspense.

You must resemble a walking question mark, because his chuckles only intensify. It's as if he finds your confusion amusing, and you're left standing there, desperate for answers in the midst of his enigmatic laughter.

In a soft tone laced with a smirk, he utters, “Kitten.”

Your gaze fixates on him, bewildered. Kitten? Is he referring to your cat?

Your jaw drops as he gracefully emerges from the bed, the duvet cascading off his frame. In his unabashed nudity, he strides toward you.

He inches closer, the proximity almost causing your lips to collide. A surge of warmth courses through you when he delicately tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m a shapeshifter,” his revelation hangs in the air, the weight of it palpable, and as he locks eyes with you, searching for any flicker of discomfort, the truth settles. Before you can process it fully, he leans in, capturing your lips with an irresistible surge of passion.

His lips, soft and inviting, embark on a slow yet passionate dance, as if reuniting with a long-lost lover. Responding eagerly, you part your lips, allowing the kiss to deepen, and in that electrifying moment, your entire body succumbs to a sensation akin to melting butter.

You yield to his touch, molding your body to his as you sense the undeniable hardness of his arousal intimately pressing against your core.

Fuck.

In the midst of the heated moment, you draw back slightly to meet his gaze, the question hanging in the air, “So... you're Kitten?”

He offers no verbal response, just a low, affirmative hum, before plunging back into another intoxicating kiss.

You surrender to the sensation, feeling the firm grip of his hands on your waist as they journey upward beneath the fabric of your well-worn shirt.

His touch ignites a trail of sensations, tracing a path across your body, sending electric shivers as he lifts your shirt, gently grazing against the contours of your breasts.

Under the intensity of his gaze, your body responds, a flush of heat spreading through you, your nipples hardening in response. He emits a low, satisfied hum, as if relishing the effect he has on you.

Effortlessly, he works to level the playing field, swiftly undressing you as if in a race against time. With a purposeful tug, he eases your shorts down, a silent declaration of his desire.

Bare before him, clad only in a simple black panty adorned with delicate pink hearts, you can't shake the vulnerability coursing through you. A sudden urge to conceal yourself washes over, a reaction to the raw exposure in this intimate moment.

“Don't shy away, you're stunning,” Yoongi murmurs, his firm grip on your hips drawing you closer to his naked body. The undeniable heat of his arousal presses against your core, a tangible reminder of the desire smoldering between you.

Gratitude escapes your lips in a hushed tone, your cheeks tinged with a warm blush.

“Now, let’s get these off you, yeah?” with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he hooks his fingers inside the fabric of your panties, teasingly tugging them down. He pauses, seeking your consent, before sensually sliding them all the way down your legs.

As he slides your panties down, a sudden awareness of your arousal hits you, intensified by the cool rush of air against your heated core.

As they fall to the floor, Yoongi swiftly snatches up your panties, bringing them to his face to inhale the intoxicating essence of your arousal, his eyes darkening with desire.

Why does that look so utterly sinful, setting off a delicious rush of arousal coursing through your veins, leaving you breathless in its wake?

As the intoxicating scent of you envelops him, he murmurs, “Damn, you smell good,” his eyes dilating with an unmistakable hunger.

“I wonder if you taste as good as you smell.”

In the raw vulnerability of your shared nakedness, he guides your body back to the bed, gently laying you down, his presence a magnetic force, hovering above you.

He immerses himself in the expanse of your neck, a symphony of sensations unfolding – a delicate ballet of tender kisses, followed by the electrifying nip of his teeth grazing the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

You moan in unabashed pleasure, your hands instinctively seeking refuge on his chiseled pectorals, anchoring yourself amidst the rising waves of bliss.

Yoongi's gaze shifts to the mirror positioned strategically in front of your bed. “I've been meaning to ask,” he smirks, locking eyes with you, “why do you have a mirror in front of your bed?”

You squirm beneath him, breath catching.”'It's part of my wardrobe panels,” you admit, your voice a fragile melody.

He chuckles, a low and enticing sound, his smirk dancing on his lips. “I don't think that's why the whole panel is mirrors,” he says, sitting up slightly. His finger traces a slow, teasing path from your collarbones to your breasts, sending shivers of anticipation racing through your body.

He leans in, his breath sending a shiver down your spine, and in a deep, low voice, he murmurs into your ear, “You're a dirty one, aren't you?”

His degrading words make your breath hitch instantly, and you involuntarily clench your thighs together. As you shake your head in disagreement, he just smirks, unconvinced.

His chuckle resonates in the room as he asks, “Do you enjoy watching yourself in the mirrors?” Sitting up, he moves to the foot of the bed, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark.

He gracefully steps out of the bed, casting a predatory gaze as he hovers over you, an aura of irresistible allure surrounding him.

With unwavering determination, he declares, “You're going to watch yourself in the mirror as I fuck your pussy with my tongue.” In a single, fluid motion, he seizes both of your thighs, pulling you to the foot of the bed, sending a thrilling jolt through your senses.

Despite the heat coursing through your entire being, a light chuckle escapes your lips. However, the mirth dissipates as you lock eyes with the intensity in Yoongi's dark gaze.

“Sit up,” his command echoes through the room, and as he gracefully lowers himself between your legs, a thrilling anticipation courses through the air.

From your elevated position, you admire the tousled chaos of his hair, a disheveled masterpiece that only enhances his captivating allure. His eyes gleam with a mischievous spark, a silent promise of the intensity that is about to unfold.

You seize his cheeks with urgency, your voice dripping with desire, a fervent plea escaping your lips, “Fuck. Yoongi, please eat me out.”

He moistens his lips with a teasing chuckle, descending eagerly towards your already soaked center.

He expertly widens the gap between your legs, creating a perfect haven for himself before delving into your pussy with fervent devotion.

With a tantalizing finesse, he starts with a subtle stroke of his tongue along your folds, gradually ascending to the apex of your clit, eliciting a fervent moan that echoes in the room.

As waves of pleasure cascade through you, your fingers instinctively entwine in his tousled locks, gently pulling as he skillfully devotes his attention to the exquisite dance of his tongue and lips on your pulsating core.

Gasping for breath, your anticipation mounts, every nerve tingling with pleasure, as Yoongi's rhythmic strokes across your intimate folds propel you toward a climax, your toes curling in ecstasy.

Pausing momentarily, he murmurs in appreciation, “You taste even better than you smell, Kitten,” his words sending a shiver down your spine.

You're on the verge of asking him about the nickname ‘Kitten,’ but his tongue explores your folds, leaving you breathless and unable to form words.

Your question dissolves in the heat of the moment, the building climax taking center stage as you lose yourself in the pursuit of pleasure.

Lost in the waves of ecstasy, you can't resist the urge to surrender, closing your eyes as Yoongi works his magic with undeniable expertise.

“No, no, no. Look at yourself in the mirror, Kitten.”

“Why do—” before you can finish your question, it fades away on your tongue as Yoongi plunges back into pleasuring your core with a renewed intensity, leaving your thoughts swallowed by the whirlwind of sensations.

As you glance at the mirror, you catch a glimpse of your own blissful expression, framed by Yoongi's tousled black hair nestled between your thighs. The sight is nothing short of breathtaking, a sight of pleasure that leaves you utterly captivated.

The provocative scene unfolding in the mirror intensifies your arousal, your breath hitching in tandem with the escalating desire pulsating through your veins.

“Yoongi, I’m—” your plea catches in your throat as Yoongi skillfully responds, his hand finding your pulsating clit, heightening the pleasure while he continues to ravish you with his insatiable tongue.

His fingers dance in rhythmic circles over your throbbing clit, coaxing the tension from your core. As the knot unravels, a wave of blissful release washes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

Ecstasy courses through your veins, your toes curling, muscles tightening, and in that moment, an unexpected surge of pleasure hits you like a sneeze that never comes. You release a symphony of moans, surrendering to the intense climax that Yoongi skillfully orchestrates with his talented tongue.

He continues to suck, savoring every drop of your essence, an insatiable thirst in his eyes matching the fervor of the intimate dance between your bodies.

As the intensity peaks, you gently tap his shoulder, signaling him to withdraw. He complies with a sensual slurp, leaving you breathless and tingling with the echoes of pleasure.

A mischievous grin stretches across his face as he licks his lips, “You're incredible, Kitten.”

You arch an eyebrow, curiosity coloring your tone, “Why do you keep calling me ‘Kitten’? You’re Kitten.”

He erupts in laughter, a symphony that resonates through the room, his chest rising and falling with the melody of mirth, and in that moment, he's a captivating masterpiece.

“Do I really look like a Kitten to you?” he inquires, a playful glint in his eyes as he gently nudges you back onto the bed.

Your words stumble as you search for a response, “Not really,” you admit, offering him a small yet tender smile.

“But you look cute and sweet, like a good Kitten,” he murmurs, his hands exploring the curves of your breasts.

A low moan escapes your lips as he teases your nipples with a playful twist, igniting a fresh surge of desire that pools in the growing heat between your thighs.

As you ache for the feel of his throbbing length, you attempt to grab hold of him, but like a fleeting mirage, he skillfully eludes your touch, leaving you yearning for the intimate connection that inches away with each evasive movement.

“Nah. I just want to fuck you silly,” he rasps, eyes tracing every bead of sweat on your flushed skin, reveling in the primal rhythm of your hurried breaths.

“If you want to, that is?” he teases, his voice a sultry whisper, as he takes control, guiding himself between your legs with a confident hand that promises a morning full of pleasure.

As you feel the weight of his gaze, you gulp, wondering how, in that heated moment, he could question what you crave. It's undeniable – you want him, and the intensity of your desire hangs in the air between you, palpable and unspoken.

Your breath catches as you respond, the words tumbling from your lips in a heated rush, “Fuck, yes, Yoongi. I want you inside me, now,” the urgency in your voice betraying the intensity of your desire.

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him, the sound sending a shiver down your spine as he replies, “Please” with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“‘Please’ what?”

“Say ‘please’.”

You huff, incredulous at his audacity. The desire in his eyes is undeniable, and he seems to enjoy the game. Part of you rebels, tempted to be a brat just to irk him, but the need for his touch overrides any resistance. You crave his intimacy, aching for his dick despite the defiance lingering in the air.

“Fuck this,” you grumble, frustration evident in your voice. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi pulling back, as if reconsidering his stance.

“Please! Don’t leave,” you plead desperately, your sincerity laid bare. The smirk on his face deepens, as if savoring the intensity of your plea.

“Please fuck me, Yoongi.”

His satisfaction evident, he rewards you with a swift kiss before aligning himself with your eager entrance, anticipation humming in the air.

Your arousal has reached a point where there's no discomfort, just a perfect fit as he slides into you, your wetness welcoming and enveloping him seamlessly.

He hisses as he eases into your warm, tight walls, and you can feel him doing his best to restrain himself.

You release a breathy huff as he fully penetrates, his balls gently meeting the warmth of your folds.

He lets out a guttural groan as he steadies himself, withdrawing only to plunge back in with an intensity that sends shivers through your body.

In this intimate position, with him above you, every nuance of his pleasure is on full display—the way his nose scrunches in delight, his soft lips occasionally nibbling the bottom one in sheer ecstasy.

Between each thrust, he can't help but express his amazement, his voice low and husky, “Damn. You're so tight.”

You know. It’s been awhile. 

As he moves within you with an increased rhythm, his hands find your breasts, skillfully massaging them in sync with his fervent thrusts, creating a symphony of pleasure that courses through your entire body.

Ecstasy courses through you, and in the midst of your fervent pleasure, you can't help but release a breathless exclamation, “Fuck, Yoongi!”

Every skillful thrust seems to find its mark, synchronized with the enticing dance of his fingers on your hardened nipples. Pleasure envelops you, clouding your thoughts in a haze of ecstasy.

Your pleasure intensifies as Yoongi skillfully pinches your nipples, eliciting a symphony of moans that harmonize with the rhythmic dance of his passionate thrusts.

Sensations ripple through you, and the desire to reciprocate Yoongi's pleasure builds within you. You yearn to give him the same ecstasy he's generously bestowed upon you.

Amidst the rhythmic cadence of Yoongi's thrusts, a bold request escapes your lips. Your gaze, laced with desire, meets his, and with a subtle plea in your eyes, you softly murmur, “Yoongi—, I want to ride you. Please.”

With a devilish grin, Yoongi withdraws from your embrace, reclining on the bed, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

His voice, laced with desire, sends shivers down your spine as he commands, “Then you're gonna watch in the mirrors as you fuck yourself on my dick,” reclining with his head angled towards the mirrors.

Mounting him, you position yourself strategically, both of you reflected in the mirror—a tantalizing image of entangled limbs, the intensity of the moment etched in your heaving, sweat-glistened bodies.

Grasping his throbbing dick, he hisses in anticipation as you deftly align your eager entrance with his cock.

With a fluid motion, you descend onto his rigid cock, your velvet walls enveloping him in a tight, intoxicating embrace.

From below, Yoongi savors the view, his gaze lingering on the contours of your face, as if committing every detail to memory.

You guide the rhythm, your hands finding stability on his sculpted chest, setting the pace as you ride him with a mix of determination and desire.

Your movements cascade, a slow dance that gradually builds momentum, each rise and fall carrying a symphony of pleasure and anticipation.

As you gaze upon your reflection, the flush of arousal paints your cheeks, your disheveled hair framing your face like an unruly halo, and your breasts dance in perfect harmony with the rhythm of your passionate movements.

The person in the mirror seems like a stranger, a sensual revelation you never knew existed within you. The mirrors, always present but never before utilized for sex, now reflect a version of yourself that’s both thrilling and new.

Heat courses through your veins, an intoxicating blend of arousal and empowerment, as you observe your own uninhibited reflection. With newfound vigor, you escalate the rhythm, riding Yoongi more vigorously. His appreciative groans and tender gaze mirror the intensity of the moment.

Unbridled desire takes over as your hands instinctively find their way to Yoongi's neck. Without a conscious thought, your fingers glide over the warmth of his skin, gently encircling his throat.

An electrifying jolt courses through you as you sense Yoongi's involuntary twitch within you, and you catch the ragged rhythm of his breath.

Panic courses through you, and you hastily retract your hands, realizing with a shock that you had unintentionally exerted pressure on Yoongi's throat. “Oh my God! I'm so sorry!” you blurt out, your apology a mix of concern and embarrassment.

“It's fine, Kitten. I like it,” he reassures you with a devilish grin, seizing your hands and guiding them back around his neck, his eyes sparking with a hint of mischief.

You shoot him a concerned glance, pausing your movements to ensure he's okay. Once he reassures you with a nod, signaling his approval, you dive back into the rhythm you had before.

With a newfound boldness, you tighten your grip around his throat, drawing out another satisfying twitch from him. His reaction sends a surge of pleasure through you as he hits that sweet spot, causing a kaleidoscope of sensations that make you see stars.

Your unrestrained moans fill the room, a symphony of desire that intertwines with the rhythmic sounds of your bodies colliding. The sight of Yoongi unraveling beneath your touch fuels a primal arousal, and you revel in the raw passion that courses through every fiber of your being.

“Fuck!” you pant.

“I’m gonna come,” you confess, the words escaping on a ragged breath, as you impale yourself on his dick. You’re body trembling as you hold the moment, savoring the anticipation before the inevitable plunge into ecstasy.

With a tender touch, you withdraw your hands from his throat, leaning down to kiss him. Your lips meet his in a dance of passion, tracing a path from his mouth to the very spots your fingers had claimed on his neck moments ago.

His low, guttural groan harmonizes with the rhythm as you ascend, reclaiming your perch on him. The dance begins anew, your body moving with purpose, riding the waves of pleasure set in motion by each calculated bounce on his throbbing length.

Yoongi's hands eagerly envelop your breasts, his fingers dancing with the rhythm of your fervent movements. With each descent onto him, you feel a surge of pleasure building, the shared pursuit of ecstasy driving you both towards the brink of blissful release.

His fingers deftly find your sensitive nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. The sensation is so intense that a fractured, high-pitched man escapes your lips, your back arching involuntarily in the exquisite dance of pleasure and pain.

As your walls instinctively clench around his pulsating dick, you witness the pleasure etched across his face, a delightful scrunching of his features that mirrors the ecstasy coursing through both of you.

“Yoongi, I’m com—,” you gasp, a desperate plea laced in your voice. Your words are unnecessary; the vice-like grip of your walls and the erratic cadence of your breath already convey the impending release that hangs thick in the air.

“Come all over my dick,” he smirks through a groan, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Watch yourself fall apart in the mirror.”

How can this man ignite such an intense flame within you? The knot in your stomach tightens once more, and as you surrender to it, a primal, drawn-out moan escapes your lips, echoing the depths of your desire.

With unyielding eyes, you lock onto your own reflection in the mirror as ecstasy courses through you, marking the moment you climax on his d*ck. Your rhythmic bouncing falters, but Yoongi, sensing your need, seizes your hips and propels the pace, driving you deeper into the intoxicating whirlwind of pleasure.

Your mouth hangs open, breaths rapid and erratic, akin to the aftermath of a sprint, while every inch of your body throbs with the residual heat of a fervent blaze.

“So beautiful—FUCK!” he moans, powering into you with an astonishing velocity, sending shivers down your spine.

His hold on your hips tightens, your hands finding refuge on his sculpted chest for support. Your body teeters on the edge of weightlessness and grounding, as if you'd unravel if Yoongi's firm grasp on your hips faltered.

Despite the fatigue washing over you, a surge of determination courses through your veins. Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you entwine your fingers around his neck once more. You sense the impending release in Yoongi's every movement, and you're determined to be the catalyst that propels him over the edge.

The moment your grip tightens around his throat, a powerful surge reverberates through his dick within you, sending intoxicating waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an electrifying sensation, making every touch between you more intense and satisfying.

With an intense squeeze, you lock eyes with Yoongi, a plea in your gaze. “Fill me up, Yoongi.”

In a primal release, he surrenders to the moment, thrusting into you with an erratic rhythm, coating your walls with the warmth of his climax.

“Ahh,” he pants, the rush of air filling his lungs as you release your grip on his neck, both of you engulfed in the aftermath of shared release.

You watch him in amazement as his fervent thrusts subside, and he eases into the embrace of your bed, a portrait of passion painted across his beautiful face.

As he gradually softens within you, you take the initiative to lift yourself off him, both of your essences clinging to your skin, a residue of your shared passion that you welcome without reservation.

As you recline beside him, a soft chuckle escapes your lips, a shared breathlessness enveloping both of you. The air in the room is charged with the echo of passion, leaving a tangible energy that binds your entangled forms together.

Breathless and sporting a satisfied grin, he turns to you, his eyes filled with a post-passion glow. “Fuck that was incredible,”' he murmurs, capturing the shared intensity of the moment in the curve of his smile.

An undeniable contentment colors your voice as you respond, “Yeah,” savoring the echoes of pleasure that linger in the air.

Suddenly, a spark of realization ignites within you, propelling you to move with swift purpose. You crawl back on top of him, a burst of energy that startles him, like a surprise in the midst of shared afterglow.

“Why did you leave me?” you inquire, a tinge of accusation laced with the bitter notes in your voice. “Without a word or a farewell. Why did you disappear without a trace?”

His eyes widen momentarily before giving way to an expression of anguish and sadness. A tug at your heart intensifies, as his face alone tells a story you fear can't be good.

He begins with a heavy admission, meeting your eyes with earnest sincerity, “My brother died.”

Your words stumble out in a rush, “Oh, God! I'm so sorry!” The unexpected revelation leaves you fumbling for the right response.

His words flow, carrying a weight of anger and grief, “It's alright. ButI felt so much anger and grief, you know?” he explains, “so much so that I couldn't shapeshift and was stuck in my cat form.”

You exhale a soft ‘aha’ at his words, and the realization washes over you— he was grappling with his own demons, just as you were.

“When I'm consumed by intense emotions, I lose control of my ability to shapeshift, and, and—” You witness a tearful welling in his eyes, prompting you to gently cup his cheeks, reassuring him that it's okay.

“I just wanted to be alone and I didn’t want to burden you…” A few tears spill from his eyes, and you tenderly catch them with your gentle fingers.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, finding solace in the curve of his neck, where his soft minty scent envelops you like a comforting embrace.

“I am so fucking sorry you had to endure that. I understand, truly. But you would never be a burden to me,” you express, gazing into his eyes with a tenderness that echoes your sincerity.

“I want to be there for you,” you declare, your own tears mirroring the empathy in your eyes.

“Ah, shit. I didn’t mean to cry. But, you know, I understand,” you say, your words accompanied by a wry smile as tears trickle down your face and onto Yoongi’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Kitten. I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

He seizes your cheeks, tugging you into a tender and unhurried kiss. Time loses its grip, and you're oblivious to the remnants of his seed mingling with your essence, creating a slippery trail between your pussy and his still-slick pelvis.

Lost in the rhythm of your kisses with Yoongi, you surrender to the moment, where every touch feels like a missing puzzle piece seamlessly falling into place.

The two cups of coffee are long forgotten.

Authors note (3): Thank you so very much if you have made it this far 😭 I know this story is a lot – I’ve been dealing with a lot of different stuff for many years, and some of it just got to be too much a few weeks ago, and this story popped into my head. It was therapeutic to write. I don’t know if people will like it or not, but in the end, that’s not what it’s about. It will just exist here.

If you struggle with any of these subjects or emotions, you’re always welcome in my inbox – I’m not a trained psychologist or anything, though! But sometimes it is better to voice your feelings, than struggling in silence. Everybody’s welcome 🫂

I hope you’re doing well. Thank you for you 💜

[agustdakasuga]

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 2

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

After spending the whole day at home yesterday, except leaving to get groceries for the house, you thought you would feel more refreshed. But whether you liked it or not, your father’s letter stayed on your mind. There were many questions that were unanswered.

“Hey! Watch it!” Someone yelled out to you as you accidentally bumped shoulders with them, too deep in thought.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, continuing your way to your locker. University was just university to you. It wasn’t a fancy private academy or the top campus, you just wanted to graduate with your degree and find a job.

You didn’t have a major yet. Your university allowed students to study common modules in the first year if you couldn’t decide on a major. But you needed to choose one in the second year.

“(y/n) sshi. Welcome back. My deepest condolences.” The professor greeted you as you entered the classroom.

“Thank you, professor.” You bowed your head before going to your seat.

“Hey, (y/n), I kept your homework for you.” Your good friend, Wonwoo, pulled out the chair to sit with you. Unlike you, Wonwoo had chosen his major when applying for university. He majored in Music.

“Thanks, Wonwoo. You’re a lifesaver.” You smiled, briefly flipping through the notes and homework that you’ve missed.

“So, what happened? I thought you didn’t have a dad. Then all of a sudden, you’re at his funeral?” Wonwoo asked. You scratched your head, not really sure where to begin.

“Honestly, the past few days have been rough. Suddenly I get news from a stranger that the man, who is also my father, passed away. I was expected to be the chief mourner since I am apparently his only blood related child. I don’t really know how to feel, he’s a stranger, I barely know his name and face. Is it bad that I don’t feel the grief?” You sighed.

“Like you said, he’s a stranger. You’re not expected to mourn over someone you don’t know. Don’t worry about it.” He smiled softly, patting your head.

“Everyone that came to the funeral told me what a great man my father was. Remembering what my mother went through alone, I didn’t think he was that great.” You said sourly.

“Has he not tried to reach out all those years?”

“Not at all, no phone call, nothing. From the letter he left me, he probably didn’t even know my mother died.” You shrugged.

You were grateful to have Wonwoo. You have known him since high school. Back then, you didn’t think having friends was important so you kept to yourself. But if you didn’t have him to talk to, you didn’t know what you would do.

“Don’t bottle it all up, okay? You know you don’t have to shoulder it all on your own.” He comforted.

“Hopefully this was just a one time thing and I don’t have to be involved with anything related to my father again. It’s too much for me to accept a parent at this age and only after his death. I wish for him to still remain the stranger he always was.” You rubbed your temples.

“Alright, with most of you here, let’s begin class.” The professor spoke.

After class, you and Wonwoo had lunch together before he had to go for music class and you had mandatory session with the guidance counsellor about choosing your major.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Lee.” You greeted as you entered the small room. Mrs Lee smiled and stood up to get you from the door.

“Hi, (y/n). How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay. If you’re specifically referring to the passing of my father, I am okay about that too.” You cleared your throat, sitting down. She awkwardly nodded her head and sat down opposite you, pulling your file out.

“Now, since we last spoke, have you explored more about what major you would want to take?” She asked.

“Kind of? I have been narrowing down my choices.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment but she had an encouraging smile all the way.

“Playing to my strengths of learning foreign languages, I was thinking linguistics and language major. But I did consider biology, as well.” You began to list out all your options and the reasons.

“It’s good that you have narrowed down your options, (y/n). And with your grades, you can choose any of the options you have just listed. But with some, you might need to do a placement test, the same one that everyone does. You told me all the good points of each major option. How about... ‘the bad’ or your worries with each major?” She asked.

“The main worry is that the degree won’t get me far after I graduate. Not so much worried about work load...” You replied.

“You never know, the needs of the industry is always changing. In a few years, things will change. Companies might focus on new goals and trends will change.” She said. You nodded your head.

“(y/n), at the end of the day, you have to ask yourself what you want to do, only you know what you enjoy.”

“I know...”

“You’re going through a lot now, I understand. Let’s speak again in a month and see if there is more clarity then.” She shot you a friendly smile. You grabbed your bag and she escorted you to the door.

“Thanks, Mrs Lee. I guess I’ll see you in a month.” You left her office. You went to your locker to get the books you needed for your next class. Wonwoo was there, waiting for you. It was weird since you usually meet him in class.

“How was Mrs Lee?” He smirked.

“She believes my ‘grieving’ self can’t think straight so there was no progress. I think I just have to figure this who major thing on my own.” You groaned. Wonwoo was your close friend and probably only friend but you didn’t tell him everything, you drew a line for privacy and he respected that.

Also, a part of you felt that telling him everything would make you dependent on him and you didn’t want that. You needed to be independent and be mentally ready for when he gets sick of you and leaves.

You only had two more classes before you could go home. Wonwoo insisted on taking you home on his bike. He handed you his helment.

“I’m really fine taking the bus, you know?” You didn’t really live far away from your university.

“It’s no problem, really.” Wonwoo said, reaching over to make sure the helmet was adjusted well and not too tight or loose. He helped you onto the bike before climbing on.

“You should wear the helmet.” You spoke.

“I’d feel much better if you’re the one wearing the helmet.” He chuckled, starting the engine.

“Hang on.” He declared. You yelped in shock, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. Wonwoo sped off in the direction of your house. He made sure to not go too fast, knowing that you felt nervous on the bike.

However, when Wonwoo pulled up to your street, you were not expecting to see a luxury car parked in front of your house. The Porsche stuck out like a sore thumb but you didn’t recognise it. Wonwoo stopped the motorcycle and helped you off. The car door opened and a suited male emerged. You recognised him as one of Namjoon’s brothers.

“(y/n) sshi.” He approached you.

“Who is that?” Wonwoo asked, looking the man up and down, taking in his tailored suit, expensive shoes and luxury car. He stepped in front of you, slightly protective. You bit the inside of your lip.

“It’s alright, Woo. I... know him. He’s one of the guys from the funeral.” You explained to him.

“I’ve got this. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You told him.

“You sure?” Wonwoo didn’t look convinced. You nodded and waved to him as he hopped onto his bike and left. You took a deep breath and turned to him.

“I haven’t introduced myself to you, I’m Kim Seokjin. I’m actually here to let you know that your father’s lawyer will be going through his will and we would like for you to attend.” He stated.

“Seokjin sshi, I appreciate you coming all the way. But I thought I made myself clear, I don’t want anything to do with that man, his money and his company. I relinquish whatever was willed to me to you and the other 6, you can do whatever you wish to do.” You told him.

“We understand, (y/n) sshi. But your father has told us to tell you about some of your mother’s belongings being kept with his will. And even if you do relinquish all inheritance, you would need to sign off with the lawyer.” He informed.

“Wait, my mother’s belongings?”

“Yes. However, none of us know what those belongings are.” Seokjin was quick to add, sensing your rising anger.

“Even in death, he is trying to blackmail me. Why can’t he just leave me alone?” You clenched your fists, tears of frustration threatening to fall. Seokjin didn’t say anything about your statement.

“When is the damn lawyer meeting?” You asked him. He gave you the date and you nodded.

“Also, were you or your brothers the ones who told my university about the funeral? Because I, for sure, was not the one who told them.” You looked at him, throwing all politeness out the window.

“We thought it would be good for them to give you a few days off for the funeral procession and proceedings.”

“You all had no right to do that. Now, I have the whole university administration looking at me with pity, giving me allowance for things because I’m ‘grieving’. Well, I’m not grieving, I’m not sad that he’s gone. I feel nothing.” You said through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry, (y/n) sshi. We should not have done that, it was an overstep on our part.” Seokjin apologised.

“Just please, don’t meddle with anything in my life anymore.” You pleaded. He nodded his head, face glum. Your words towards your father was cold and cruel but it wasn’t your fault.

“Is there anything else you need?” You were over this. You wanted to move on and not have anything related to that man in your life anymore.

“No. Have a nice day.” Seokjin wished and you walked into the house, shutting the door and locking it behind you. Seokjin looked up at the house, letting out a long sigh before going back into his car. No one ever dared to have such an attitude with them, being afraid of the repurcussions, but the boys knew that they couldn’t blame you.

This was thrown onto you out of nowhere and you have to deal with this on your own, face the unfamiliarity and confusion. It wasn’t fair to expect you to just accept everything as it is.

Jin drove all the way back home. He didn’t have an office to return to for work like the others since his room was his office.

“Young master Seokjin.” The butler opened the door for him and he tossed the keys to the valet to park his car in the garage for him. The first thing Jin saw when he entered the mansion was the boys playing poker.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” Jin rolled his eyes.

“Oh, hey hyung.” Taehyung said, not looking up from his cards or answering Jin’s question.

“You went to speak to her?” Yoongi asked from his spot by the bar, swirling his crystal glass with whiskey inside. Jin nodded, removing his suit jacket and dropping it on the couch before heading over.

“Needless to say, she’s pissed. She knows we told her university about her father.” Jin rolled up his sleeves, ready to fix himself a drink.

“Well, I would be too. We’re lucky she hasn’t beaten us up yet or something.” Jimin chuckled, his vape nestled between his fingers as he read his cards.

“Not everyone is like you, where they itch to beat people up, especially strangers. Boss always said that she and her mother were so gentle, wouldn’t even want to hurt a fly.” Hoseok scoffed. Namjoon emerged at the top of the stairs, coming down when he saw that Jin had returned.

“Did Namjoon send you cause he’s scared of her?” Yoongi teased.

“I’m not scared of her. It’s just that, so far, I have been the bearer of bad news. Plus, it might be good for her to start to know and recognise all of you too.” Namjoon shrugged.

“Yeah, cause Yoongi hyung offering her a cigarette is great for introductions.” Jungkook burst out laughing.

“Shut up. She looked stressed and I thought she would want one to help her calm down a little.” Yoongi glared at the youngest.

“Sure... Hyung, you do know that we were the cause of her stress in the first place, right?” Jimin added with a laugh. Yoongi rolled his eyes, sliding off the bar stool and walking up to his room, whiskey in his hand.

“Everything aside, she will attend the lawyer meeting. As expected, knowing her mother’s belongings are kept with the will, she agreed to come. Although, I do agree with her that this is blackmail.” Jin sighed. They couldn’t do much, they were following the orders of their late boss, who was insistent and firm on what to do when he passed.

“It’s just going to get more complicated when the will gets read.” Namjoon said.

“Wait. Hyung, you know what’s in the will?” Jungkook asked. Namjoon didn’t say anything else, grabbing a whiskey and going back upstairs.

“Enough playing. Get back to work.” Jin told the younger ones and went to his office. He turned on his entire system, the multiple computer monitors lighting up the room.

This was Jin’s job in the organisation. Nothing hides from him on the web. Any information that could be found online, he can find it. He could also hack any system, no firewall or security could stop him.

“Wow, good grades... But why haven’t you chosen your major?” Jin asked to no one in particular when he pulled up your university records.

“Security cameras... Entrance of the university.” He pulled up the footage. From the estimated time that you would be there, Jin watched the footage to look for you. Well, he wasn’t looking for you in particular. More of the person you were with.

“There you are.” Taking a screenshot of Wonwoo’s face, he enhanced it using his computer software and ran it through the university database.

“Jeon Wonwoo. Music major. No criminal record.” He scanned through Wonwoo’s records with the university. You were always described by your father as a lone wolf. So Jin couldn’t help but be curious after seeing how close you were with Wonwoo earlier.

“Hyung, who are you stalking?”

“Geez! You scared me!” Jin held a hand over his racing chest as Taehyung appeared beside him.

“I’ve got the change the passcode for my door.” Jin grumbled. Taehyung laughed, knowing that Jin’s attempt would be futile anyway. He always had a way to get to where he wanted to go.

“She has a boyfriend? He’s kind of handsome.” Taehyung noted as he looked at Wonwoo’s picture.

“He’s not her boyfriend. I just wanted to make sure that he won’t cause any trouble for us. His record is clean. They went to the same high school, it seems.” Jin reported.

“Even if he was trouble, we could easily handle it. You should finish your stack of work. I’ve got people hounding me for information.” Taehyung said, gesturing to the stack of folders on Jin’s desk that he had to work on.

“I’ll get to them soon. Now, get out. I don’t like people being in here.” The older pushed him out of the room, locking the door. Jin needed to be in the mood to do work and he hated people nagging him. Although, no one really said anything since he’s the oldest of the 7. Namjoon was the only one that could get him to do work.

“Got kicked out?” Jungkook tilted his head, seeing Taehyung stand in the hallway, outside Jin’s room. Taehyung nodded glumly.

“Tough luck, hyung.” Jungkook patted him on the shoulder and continued on his way. He went to his room to change out of his pajamas before going down to the garage.

“Jungkookie.” Jimin appeared as Jungkook was working on Hoseok’s car.

“What?” He grumbled. Like Jin, he didn’t really like anyone interrupting him, especially when he was working.

“I have a big event in 3 days so Hoseok is bringing a new car in for me to drive there. Do you think you could help me check it out and make sure it’s okay by then?” Jimin asked.

“What car?”

“A Valhalla.”

“Wait, Hoseok hyung got his hands on one? Only 999 were made and it’s super exclusive.” Jungkook was shocked.

“It’s Hoseok hyung. Of course he would be able to get it.” Jimin said. If you needed something, Hoseok would be able to get it for you. His connections spread far and wide.

“Sure, I’ll take a look at it when it comes. But I’ll need to do some research first. It uses a new hybrid battery system and a new bespoke V8 engine. First of its kind.” Jungkook was in awe. Jimin smirked, knowing how to get Jungkook interested in a project.

“I just need it for the event, you can drive it after the event.” He added. For most of the cars, the boys always shared amongst themselves anyway. The only cars that were not shared were their personal cars.

“Oh, I am definitely driving it after.” Jungkook declared.

“Great, glad to have you onboard. Hyung said that it’ll be delivered tomorrow.” Jimin informed. Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement.

“Thanks, Kook. Knew I could count on you.” He clapped happily and left the garage for Jungkook to get back to work.

“An Aston Martin Valhalla is going to be in our garage tomorrow.” Jungkook let out a laugh of disbelief, shaking his head. To say he was excited was an understatement.

Since Hoseok brought in such rare cars, they didn’t trust just anyone to maintain them. So Jungkook, with an interest in bikes and cars, took the job of making sure the cars are maintained and taken care of. He also fixed them when the other boys get them destroyed while doing a job outside. It was hard work but Jungkook loved his job.

~~

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Main masterlist

[pennyellee]

preview of chapter VI

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, gun use, abduction, attempted non-con, gaslighting, vomiting, anxiety, choking, decapitation, strong language, smut, loss of virginity

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 844

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI

“Do we?-” She interrupted, praying for a change of his mind, though fully aware of the inevitability. He needed to ensure no loopholes in their marriage for others to exploit or for her to negotiate over. She knows this is mandatory.

“Yes, we do,” he acknowledged after some thought. Knowing what she had been through that day, he recognised the potential impact, but he also saw it as a way to fully claim her. It was a selfish desire, perhaps, but one he had long awaited. 

Yoongi longed to feel her skin to skin. It was indeed selfish, he knew that much. Some would say it is careless of him to demand such an intimate act to happen after all she has been through. But he wanted to show her that this is a part of their marriage she can truly enjoy. Yoongi wanted to give a final full stop to their relationship by solidifying the union rightfully, as the tradition goes.

The flickering flames of the fireplace danced in the dimly lit room, casting a warm glow upon Y/N and Yoongi. Consummating the marriage was a private but necessary measure.

His selfishness had not gone unnoticed by the syndicate elders, who questioned his insistence on not just any hotel room but the house where generations of memories had been created. He deliberately wanted to spend the night in the house he grew up in, where his father started a family, and his grandfather, and his grandfather and so on down the history line.

Yoongi, having lost his parents at a young age, yearned to start his own family. He wanted to witness the growth of his children, their marriages, and their own families.

Y/N knew this day would come, sooner or later, and as a young woman, she had learnt to protect herself from unplanned consequences. She understood his desire for a child, though he never explicitly discussed it with her. But she was far from being ready to surrender to the life fate had planned for her, not just yet.

Heaven had given her a sign, a slight hope when she found a particular herb in the garden before the first snow fell. Y/N had kept it discreet, asking the maid to dry the flowers and serve them as tea in the morning. Tonight, she was calm, knowing it could not happen, even if he wished otherwise.

Yoongi observed her hesitance, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and resilience. The room, with its walls that held generations of memories, seemed to echo with the weight of tradition and expectation. But as he reached out to touch her cheek gently, his eyes softened.

The sharp sound of a loud whistle from the tea kettle startled them both, tearing them out of the cocoon of their thoughts. The iron kettle hung gracefully over the open flame, steam rising in wisps as if trying to escape the weight of the night. Yoongi carefully prepared the tea, his movements deliberate and unhurried. The aroma of freshly brewed leaves filled the air. The porcelain teapot, an heirloom passed down through generations, sat patiently on the wooden small table that was next to them. As he poured the tea into delicate cups, he eyed her small physique yet again, searching for any signs.

She accepted the cup he offered her, the warmth seeping through the delicate porcelain. Her mind briefly paused when she recognised the familiar scent. She chuckled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise, awaiting her words. Y/N took a few careful sips from the cup, accepting what it offered.

“Are you afraid, Kkangpae?” She asked, taking another sip. Yoongi put his cup on the wooden table and looked directly in her eyes.

“Me? No,” he pointed at himself, hiding a smile.

“So why did you choose to make tea from Valerian root?” Her studies that surely included herbalism had escaped Yoongi’s mind.

“I knew this night would be difficult for you, and I — I wanted to ensure it went as smoothly as possible,” he confessed.

“Considerate,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. Yoongi’s gaze faltered, and he looked away momentarily.

“I want you to enjoy it—”

“Then make me enjoy it,” she interrupted him yet again, gulping down the contents of her cup, setting it down with a gentle clink next to his almost full one.

“I intend to,” he said. The complexities of tradition, the weight of the syndicate expectations, seemed to press down on them like the heavy beams of the hanok. Yet, he was thrilled at the prospect of laying her down and making love to her, while she tried to make peace with the path ahead.

A mixture of emotions played across Y/N’s face, the tension in the air made her anxious. The tea flowed in her system, calming her. The steps were set, and she cannot back down now.

His hands cradled her face, a gesture that held both tenderness and an unspoken understanding. But Y/N knows he will never understand. And thus, the night unfolded.

.

.

.

.

01.12.23 23:00/11 PM CEST - 01.12.23 17:00/5 PM EDT

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (36)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

A/N NOT BETA. This was supposed to be a smut but I struggled to do the last ones so no it did not turn into a smut. But just know that in my head they did do the do.

Getting to the mountains was not that hard. It was an easy and quick drive seeing as a lot of people were flying about as well. All the boys decided to tag along, Namjoon explaining to you that tomorrow you would go to visit his own family that were also waiting in Seoul. 

Some of the boys had called their own families, explaining that you were with them and they would be taking turns a day to spend time with you. You could hear their families crying and sobbing over the fact that their boys were home. They explained that after seeing Jin’s family they would be going back home and you would meet them later on. 

They wouldn’t tell you why it was that Jin’s family seemed to be important, but coming up to a large wall that had a palace hidden behind it made you wonder just how important he truly was. You stopped behind the man, moving around to look at his face. 

He swallowed thickly, tears pooling in his eyes as he looked up at the gates of the wall. His hands balled into fist to keep from crying out loud. You moved to grab one, slowly pulling his fingers out to fit them through yours.  

“Are you okay, Jin?” You asked him quietly. 

“It's been so long since I've been home.” He choked. “I don't know what to expect.”

“I'm sure you'll find your parents and siblings all waiting for you on the other side of the door.” Namjoon patted his older comrade on the back, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“I'm right here.” You told him, squeezing his hand just a bit. 

“We all are.” Jungkook spoke up from Jin’s other side, giving the older boy a large grin.

Jin nodded his head once, taking a step forward to reach the gate once more. As you all began to move forward, the guards stationed at the front were the first to take notice of you all. They waited for a moment as you reached them, about to ask what business you had with the family but suddenly did a double take as Jin in the front. 

They were large people with pig-like noses. Large teeth protruded from the bottom of their lips as they looked to be sabertooth like. There were many creatures you could think of at the moment but you couldn’t be too sure. You watched as their noses wiggled, taking a whiff of all of you just in case. 

“Your majesty?” One called, letting go of his stiff posture as disbelief painted his features. “Is it—Is it really you?” 

“It is him!” The other shouted, weapon falling to the floor as he began to hyperventilate. 

“By gods!” The first guard yelled, turning to the gates. “The crowned prince has returned!”

As the gates began to open up and a large palace in the mountain came into view, your eyes went wide as the guard shouted about Jin being the crowned prince. You quickly turned to the boy, looking at him incredulously. 

“What?” You spoke out loud. 

“Our Jinnie here is the elven prince of Korea.” Jimin gushed, poking the older man in the cheek as he hung off his shoulder. 

“You didn't tell me!?” You yelled, as all of you began to make your way into the palace too stunned to take notice of everything around you. 

“It's not like it was important in your world.” Jin shrugged, looking at you as if it was no big deal. 

“Jin!” You gasped about to scold him when you were stopped by four women walking up you. 

Your eyes went wide once more at how beautiful they all looked. Even dressed in large steel armor that clearly protected them while in battle made them look ethereal. 

“Your grace.” One began giving Jin a large smile. “It's such a great relief to have you back home.”

“Thank you, Solar.” Jin bowed his head, laughing a little at how happy he was to be home. 

The rest of the women smiled gratefully, giving Jin and the boys a pat on the back. They each introduced themselves to you; Solar, Moonbyul, Hwasa, and Wheein–their nicknames according to Jin. When they bowed onto their knees when they learned it was you who helped them get back home. 

You blushed of course, quickly telling them to get it. When all things were done, they began to lead you towards what you assumed to be the throne room. 

“Wow.” You quietly told yourself, following the girls. 

“They're Valkyries. Most royal families have them as personal guards.” Yoongi explained from the other side of you. 

“They've been here for as long as I can remember. They are a lot like me when it comes to their aging process.” Jin began to explain.

“How old are you really then?” You playfully asked, giggling as you saw the look on his face. 

“The oldest!” Taehyung giggled. 

“Ya! Don't be rude. I'm not that old.” Jin scolded the boy. 

Before they could continue to bicker more, Solar and Wheein opened up the large doors. You saw the thrones sitting directly in front on a stage. However, what you assumed to be the king and queen, were pacing in front of it. They immediately stopped when the doors opened, shoulders falling as they took you all in. 

“Seokjin?” The woman began to have tears fall from her eyes, slowly getting closer to Jin.

She slowly reached a hand out as she began to touch Jin’s pointed ears. Her lips trembled as she searched his face. A sob wracked through her body, pulling the tall boy in for a hug.

“Hi.” Jin sobbed out.

“My son has returned!” She cried out, fingers clenching onto Jin’s shirt tightly. “The gods have answered our prayers!” She turned to her husband, allowing him to hug Jin as well. 

“Boys!” Jin’s mother smiled even more when she saw the 6 other men behind Jin. “I'm so happy to see you all in good health.” She hugged each one, patting their cheeks and checking over for any injuries as she did with Jin.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Namjoon politely spoke up.

“Hello.” She stopped at you, wiping at her tears as she tried to keep her composure in front of you. “Who might you be?” She asked, eyes bright.

Jin pulled back from his father, turning to you. You smiled at him, reaching up to wipe at his tears out of instinct with your sleeve. Jin’s parents watched the interaction with a smile, his mother holding her hands together at her chest as she cooed quietly at you. 

“Mother. Father.” Jin pulled you to his side, holding your hand tightly with his. “This is our mate, (Y/N). She's the one who saved us.”

Jin’s mother reached out to hold your face between her smaller hands. You gave her a kind smile, bowing your head in respect. 

“Thank you for bringing my son back.” She told you, lip trembling as she rubbed at your cheek.

“Of course, your grace.” You answered. 

“Call me, mom.” She giggled, teasing you as she took a glance at Jin. 

You laughed at the blush that settled over the older man’s face, but you could tell that he didn’t want things to be different. You had just learned that Jin had lived a long life before being kidnapped so he must have known what it was like to be with your parents for a while. You didn’t know what things would be like for the younger boys but if Jin had spent so much time with his family things must have been hard for him. 

“We will have the cooks prepare a fantastic meal for you!” Jin’s father gushed, patting Jin’s back. “Oh, your brother will be so happy to see you again! He should be on his way! We shall celebrate this tremendous occasion that the crowned prince and his coven have returned.” He gave the boys all grateful smiles before turning to you. 

“And that he has finally found his mate.” He bowed his head towards you.

“We will announce it to the people soon.” Moonbyul spoke up,

“Tomorrow.” The king smiled at his guards. “For now, we wish to have our son. There is a lot we have to catch up on.”

And catch up you all did. You met Jin’s older brother, another tear-fest as the two brothers hugged. You learned about his time spent as the prince. You also learned why he was the crowned prince and not his older brother. Compared to his brother, Jin was the one more suited to be king because of the time he spent learning about it. His brother wanted to do other things while Jin understood that someone needed to be King and he was more than happy to take the spot. 

The other boys all took their leave to make it home before it got too dark. You would be staying the night with Jin and Namjoon would come to get you in the morning to take you to meet his family. 

The queen had sent some clothing for you to sleep in–silk pajamas that matched Jin’s–to the man’s bedroom. You had finished dressing only to come out and find Jin looking at pictures and trinkets he had around his room. You smiled at the calming aura Jin had. He was so relaxed compared to how you knew him back in the facility. 

All the boys were like that. On edge and ready to fight anything that seemed to harm them or others. For once they could rest. And you were so happy to see them that way. In such a short amount of time you never realized how much they would end up meaning to you. Much less all of them. You didn’t know if it had to do with the fact that it was something part of their magic, or if it was just you but you wanted to see them happy all the time. 

“Your family is amazing.” You spoke up, pulling the blankets back to lay down comfy in bed. 

Jin turned around and grinned at you, moving to get comfy on his side of the bed. This mattress had nothing on the beds in the facility that was for sure. Jin could finally have a good night's sleep. 

“Thank you for spending the night with me.” Jin whispered, giving you lips a peck. 

“Of course, Jinnie.” You grinned, forehead touching his. 

“You mean so much to us.” Jin spoke up softly, moving a hand to touch your cheek. “You have no idea how much we are grateful for you. We will never be able to find a way to repay you back.”

“Being with all of you is enough for me.” You nudged his nose with yours, smiling softly.

“I love you.” Jin quietly said, breathing it against your lips. 

You felt your heart stop for a moment, a huffed out laugh spilling from your lips. You moved to give him a kiss, hand on his cheek.

“I love you too, Seokjin.”

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@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee ,  @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @shadowyjellyfishfest , @forestsquirrel , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @girl-nahh-two , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @oemmi2005 , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @thatonedemigodfromseoul , @woozixo, @serveruslovebot , @vintageoldfashion ,

[yoongsisbae]

Run Run Run - Seoul Close (Part 5)

A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. OT7 BTS Zombie Apocalypse AU / BTS member x reader slow burn

WELL I'M NOT DEAD. MY CHARACTERS ON THE OTHER HAND...JUST KIDDING. LET ME COPE WITH HUMOR.

Warnings: death, monsters, blood, fighting, killing, gory details, some toxic nationalism, mention of SA-nothing graphic, angst, smut, handjob, fingering, bathtime shenanigans

Word Count: 21.5k (I actually got block limited for the first time on this chapter. I hope the long chapter makes up for the wait!)

---

Run.

Run.

Run.

Keep your back straight, your shoulders relaxed, move your arms, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, and most importantly, don’t trip!

AND RUN!!!

You look back. You expected to see a lot of them, but not this much...

‘It’s gonna okay it’s gonna okay it’s gonna okay,’ you repeat desperately, as long as you keep running!

No time to scream or even cry, you need that energy…

To run!

You hear the labored breaths of the men around you, such a stark contrast from the horrifying growls of the undead behind you, a group of zombies you all had accidently awakened from their mindless ambling.

But there is quite a distance, fortunately. And if you just keep ru-

“Ow,” you grunt. You collided into a back, knocking the wind out of you.

“Wh-” You are silenced at the sight in front of you. There is a hoard of zombies and fresh corpses, the monsters are crouched over the bodies, pulling apart and devouring what remains.

You all stare at the gruesome sight. No words are needed and you are too winded to form proper sentences anyways, so you push the closest person to your left into the grass, which so happened to be BTS leader, Kim Namjoon. 

You keep pushing him until he takes the hint. He yanks on who he can reach too, giving silent orders. ‘RUN THIS WAY!’

If you’re lucky, you can create enough distance between you and the monsters behind you that have already caught a scent of your blood before the preoccupied ones begin to notice you. And if you were really lucky, the former might just give up once they smelled the scraps of someone else’s meal.

Too bad luck is rarely on your side.

The feasting zombies smell a new meal instantly.

Dammit! 

Keep running! 

Run for cover, run into the woods, run as far as you can away from them.

Hongcheon is a fraction of the size of Seoul and yet there are already so many more of them than you had expected. 

So many lives gone. So many families torn apart, hearts broken, young lives cut short…

A city destroyed. 

You don’t have time to cry over it now. Maybe later, when you’re safe, you can think of the children you saw, thirsty for blood, eyes sunken in, tiny bodies brutalized into monstrosities. Later you can agonize over their stolen youth, wonder where their parents are, if they remained a family, feasting together even in death.

Right now, you have to…

Run.

-

“Run over there!”

It hurts to move, to breathe. Your head hurts, your chest hurts, you’re terrified, worried sick, barely able to think, running on adrenaline. Hoseok grabs your hand and pulls you along. It makes you grateful, yet it makes you worry more. He should run ahead of you, you feel like a burden, you feel your heart clench when he squeezes your hand. 

You can’t help but think about the others, even now, you should have cherished those moments more, the smiles and laughter and banter and good times. Taehyung’s jokes, Jungkook’s bored singing, an infectious melody that had the others and even you humming along. Hoseok’s animated retelling of the events at Sutasa temple that the leader and eldest two had missed, making you and the others laugh along, the leader’s slightly impressed and very dismayed expressions and Seokjin whining over his sore feet.  

How wonderful it was when sore feet were the only thing to complain about.

You should have enjoyed those days leading up to reaching Hongcheon city more. When killing zombies felt like a team building exercise. Remember that? Tallying up your kills. Like it was a game, like it wasn’t the worst thing imaginable you had to do to another person, because they were people at one point... 

You look at the scared tired faces of the men around you and think how easy it could be to lose them to the same fate, a tally in a game strangers play not knowing how much love that growling decaying body once held… the jokes they told, the songs they sung, the stories they experienced, the sacrifices they endured…

You should have taken life more seriously, maybe now it wouldn’t feel so abysmal, karma for your blase us vs. them mentality. How stupid, you of all people should know better.

No, it wasn’t you and them, it was you and your future staring back with yellow clouded eyes. You stare back and feel nothing but regret.

And guilt.

And fear.

So you run faster, gulp down hot air, let it burn your lungs and let it sting your belly, because you now know the pain of living is always better than death, always!

You follow the others into the first house you come across where you quickly barricade yourselves in.

One two three four five six…No. 

Namjoon pats you on the shoulder. You almost scream in surprise, but you were trained now to only scream into pillows or under water, places it would be hard for them to hear you, not when you actually wanted to. 

Seokjin is behind him. Seven, eight. 

You all made it. Even Dev. Fuck, you’re actually relieved.

You relax only a little. Everyone looks beyond exhausted. You all need food, you need water. You doubt this small abandoned house has enough of anything for all of you.

There’s black blood on your arms and clothes from where you had to defend yourself from the zombies who came too close. The others have blood on them, and you wished there was more light so you could properly make sure the blood wasn’t theirs. 

“Is everyone okay?” you whisper. No one is just ‘okay,’ but they knew what you meant.

They pull at their clothes, checking their bodies. They all nod. You glare at Dev, and then eye Taehyung who nods again. Now that you’re stationary you realize how sweaty you are, how tired. You fall to your knees, finally able to rest.

Namjoon walks cautiously through the house, making sure the coast is clear and there are no residents remaining, alive or otherwise.

As you rest you listen to doors sliding open, Namjoon’s footsteps as he makes his way through the house. The others are quiet, catching their breaths, holding their bodies against doors, coughing quietly, rubbing their muscles, and of course, listening intently to the sounds outside…

The scratching, clawing, growling…

“Clear. Two Beds.” Namjoon returns.

“I’ll check for food.” Yoongi stands up, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“I’ll take first watch,” Namjoon says solemnly.

“Me too,” you add. He doesn’t argue with you, even if he does look like he wants to tell you to rest instead.

“Second.” Jimin and Taehyung say in unison.

It’s safe for now. What will it be like once the sun is high again? Better, worse? How long can you keep this up? 

Going through the city might have taken a couple of hours tops in the car, but you didn’t have that now, not even the horses…Those poor horses…

How many days will it take to get out now that you are on foot, you wonder. You can’t even bring yourself to look forward to it either, already imagining how much worse Seoul will be. 

You can’t help but think the situation you’ve put yourselves in is looking rather helpless.

You keep your eyes locked on a small divot in the flooring, trying to stay calm. Even if you had the time now, becoming emotional in this moment would be too dangerous. You have to focus and be ready for anything.

“We made it,” Namjoon whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder. You’re impressed with his optimism, you try not to feel worried, but it's for that exact reason you are so worried. You made it this time, but what about next time? What if something happens to him, what if you never hear those words again? Namjoon just might be all the optimism you have left.

You eat cold portions of canned food Yoongi prepares. 

You’re not mad at him anymore, almost dying has always had that kind of effect on relationships, but when he hands you your portion you still can’t meet his eyes, thinking of the conversation you had before entering the city.

---

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Huh?” Yoongi looks anywhere but in your direction.

Now you’re feeling even more wary. It took Herculean courage for you to even ask, now he’s going to make you ask again?

“Nevermind.”

You walk away from the rapper, back to tending to your horse while the large animals rest. You couldn’t help but notice the rapper has been rather aloof around you, more than usual, since kissing you. You tried not to take it personally, to not feel hurt every time he seemed to quickly shut down any conversation you start with him, but ugh, why did he go and kiss you then if he was just going to act like this?! 

It takes you all morning, right before the group is about to start your travels again, when you confront Yoongi one last time.

“Why did you kiss me?” You mutter, hoping he would respond this time. ‘Just say it was the heat of the moment,’ you think, so you can both move on, get over it. So you can accept it was just a one time thing, a moment of weakness, you would never hold it against Yoongi, but this, the way he’s acting now, you definitely do have a problem with!

Unfortunately, ears whom you hadn’t intended to hear perked up at the new information.

“You kissed y/n?” Hoseok crashes in between the pair of you.

“No, I didn’t!” Yoongi hisses immediately.

“You didn’t?” Hoseok tilts his head.

“He didn’t.” You repeat quietly.

“But you just said-”

“I didn't say that!” you laugh incredulously. “You misheard me. I asked why did he pick me… PICK me, is what I meant.”

“Pick you for what?” Hoseok looks between both of you in disbelief.

“Uhh…” you hesitate, trying to come up with something credible while Yoongi takes the opportunity to scurry away. “Pick me for the um next night shift-”

“He picked you? But you always volunteer,” Hoseok says accusingly.

“Okay, well, this time, I didn’t. And so uh I wanted the night off. Anyways, it doesn’t matter anymore! I don’t care! forget it!” you ramble angrily, making Hoseok back away this time. 

Yoongi waits by the car while you glare at him. He’s definitely ignoring you now, like you’re some deranged saesang, and it’s annoying as hell! He kissed you, didn’t he? Yes, you might have kissed him back, and…

You remember the way you melted into him, Yoongi’s body pressed against yours, the way you chased his lips, how you wanted more. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have…liked it so much…dammit! Why did he kiss you?!

Yoongi answers you the next day. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers to you, bumping into your shoulder. 

You wince. “So you kissed me, by accident?” you ask.

“I shouldn’t have done it. I thought you had died, and, I…I don’t know…” Yoongi looks around anxiously, gaze stopping on Seokjin who is animatedly giving reasons why he shouldn’t have to sit in the back of the car this time.

You grind your teeth. This is the answer you wanted, why do you feel so crestfallen? “I understand.”

“You do?”

You look over at Yoongi. “Yes,” you smile wearily. “How do I say this? I get it, you wouldn’t normally have done that under normal circumstances with someone like me, I just wanted to make sure...” you pause. “So you want to forget it? Okay!” you say resolutely, “I’ll pretend it never happened.” You give him a more confident grin.

Your smile falls when you notice his red ears and tinged cheeks. “Yoongi?”

Yoongi looks like he’s holding his breath, holding something in for sure. “That’s not-” Yoongi cautiously lifts his arm up, knuckles touching the side of your face.

“Yoongi?” you repeat, holding your breath.

He almost looks like he might kiss you again, almost…but he turns his heel and walks back to the car, taking a seat in the back and settling an argument between Jin and Taehyung.

You frown, crossing your arms, you guess he is going to expect you to forget that just happened as well, you sigh, frown deepening. 

Maybe you are being delusional, he answered your question, you should just leave it at that, you think. You have bigger things to worry about.

-

You spent days pushing the car, hoping to find an exit to a gas station. All that energy wasted.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Yoongi accuses under his breath.

You have not not been doing anything of the sort! You still acknowledge Yoongi’s presence, just like you do that asshole Dev, yeah.

You frown. “You have been acting weird,” you cross your arms. All day every day you can feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into the back of your head when you talk to the others, and yet he refuses to even look in your direction when you get anywhere near him! 

“I have not!”

“Well then I haven’t been ignoring you!”

Yoongi sighs. “Well it's clear to the others something is up between us and that is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

You narrow your eyes on him. You think you finally understand him, Yoongi was ashamed of kissing you. You want to yell at him, but you can’t…not when you feel something akin to disappointment clawing at your insides, a small voice inside you confirming all your insecurities.

“Why would there be something up? Nothing is up, absolutely nothing,” you frown. 

“Stop.”

“I can’t stop because I haven’t started.”

“You are so annoying sometimes.” His hand holds your jaw, thumb rubbing the dirt away from your face tenderly.

You flinch away, “Is that why you didn’t kiss me?”

“Listen, I just don’t want to burden you-”

“Well, I’m very unburdened, can’t you tell? I mean, what could burden me? I have all the food I could want,” you say sarcastically, “I’m not running from monsters that want to eat me alive and I certainly don't care that you did not kiss me!” you hiss.

Yoongi covers your mouth. “Are you guys okay?” Jungkook says hesitantly, walking up to the pair of you.

Yoongi pulls his hands away as if he were burned. You roll your eyes at him, trying to not focus on the sharp pain in your chest, daggers embedding themselves inside you, each one confirming your worst insecurities. 

“Everything is great, Kookie,” you say, acting sweeter than your usual self, grabbing the youngest and leading him away before either man notices your watery eyes. 

---

“You can rest against me,” Namjoon murmurs, watching as you sway and try to keep your head up as the others sleep.

You laugh softly, “If I do that, I will definitely fall asleep. When I’m close to you, you make me feel safe. And I get sleepy,” you add, yawning. You rest your head on the wall, smiling back when he smiles. “Ahh, see, I can’t look at you,” you shake your head, trying to shake away your tiredness too.

“So you’re not all the way over there because I smell?” Namjoon pulls at your sleeve, trying to coax you closer.

“You smell? Damn, I must smell horrible then.” You sniff your worn and tattered clothes. 

“I saw a well outside, we can take advantage of it tomorrow, get some water to clean ourselves up.”

“A bath?” you wonder out loud, unable to hide your excitement. “Finally,” you sigh.

“Well err it’s gonna have to be a cold bath-”

“Mhm. A bath.” You ignore his warning, nothing can change your excitement. Let it be freezing cold, you will happily soak yourself until your fingers shrivel up.

After a while Namjoon speaks up again. “I think maybe we should stay here for a bit. Once the zombies disperse, we can go out for supplies, maybe scout for a better house to crash.”

“Here, in the city? For how long?”

“Maybe,” he hesitates. “A couple weeks? Or…a couple…months?”

“M-Months?!” you gasp, surprised.

“Look at them.” He gestures to the bodies sleeping on the floor around you, none of them wanted to leave the room for the beds, no one wanted to lose sight of each other. “We need to rest, we need supplies…we need to build ourselves back up.”

“Shouldn’t we, um, get out of Hongcheon first?” you ask worriedly. “I feel like…these monsters here are…different. They seem more relentless, don’t you feel?” you groan, thinking aloud. “Why are they so energetic? We’re the live ones! Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” They seem…well fed, you think, grimacing. “You think it’s a good idea to stay?”

“I don’t know.” Namjoon looks around anxiously at his friends, worried for their safety. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you whisper, reaching for his hand, you stroke his knuckles soothingly, deciding to follow Namjoon’s plan. “We’ll stay here for a while, and take it day by day. As long as we’re together, that’s what is most important, right?”

Namjoon lets out the breath he was holding, relaxing now that he had your support. In truth, he was too scared to move forward right now. He just needs some time, and Namjoon feels the whole group might do well with some rest too. You have all been in flight mode since first entering Hongcheon. Even you have chosen to forgo fighting, overwhelmed by the hoards of zombies and responsibilities to your friends.

-

Namjoon shakes Taehyung awake as second shift starts. Jimin rubs his tired eyes, sitting next to you, ready to take your place. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you whisper.

He nods his head to the group cuddled together like sardines, “Go rest, I got it from here.”

You hesitate. It’s becoming harder and harder to sleep. You dreaded the moments where you weren’t awake and alert for danger. Jimin sees your hesitation, he opens up his arms, “Do you want to stay with me until you’re ready to fall asleep?” You nod, relaxing slightly. 

Jimin is too good to you, it just makes you worry more, it just adds another dagger full of guilt sticking out from your chest. It all feels so heavy. You sink into Jimin, sorry to him for everything you’ve put him through. He hugs you back so tenderly you want to cry.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Jimin smiles, enjoying your warmth against him. You cling onto him, cuddled to his side, keeping your head buried into your chest, scared if you look at Jimin you’ll do something you regret, already so desperate to make him happy. But you can’t give into your feelings. You cannot bear to think how frightened you would become then.

---

“Is it true? Is it true? You…you…YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL THAT I’M SCARED.”

The road was abandoned, everything around you was at a standstill since that fateful day, only the trees danced with you, swaying in the wind. You let your bike zig and zag as you hummed one of your favorite songs happily. 

There were cars still on the road but the engines had long ago stalled out, the drivers ran away. 

It was so quiet. It was calm…peaceful even, serene…

And if there was a noise, it would likely be a member of the undead gurgling for brains. Noise now only served as a warning. 

You bike slowly, looking around at the bright landscape in awe. It had been too long since you saw green, trees, grass, flowers... 

Stuck in the airport for months you had become used to dirt and tarmac, withered plants in pots and only weeds surviving. But now you realized, lots of things survived. It was so beautiful, mesmerizing.

And you were about to be even more mesmerized.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you laugh, biking fast before coming to a complete stop. “Y-You’re alive!”

The stranger looks at you, mouth agape. 

You kick your bike stand out, running up to him. “Oh! You don’t understand me!” you quickly switch to Korean. “Sorry! Hi, good afternoon! I didn’t mean to frighten you! I’m just– wow– I’m surprised! I haven’t seen another person in...I just...hi!” You resist the urge to hug him, noticing how skittish he already seems, instead bowing ninety degrees. “My name is y/n. Are you okay?”

“You…you speak Korean.”

“You do too, lucky us,” you laugh awkwardly. 

He looks around, shuffling from side to side. “Where did you come from, foreigner? Are you alone? Do you have any food?”

Your smile slowly falls. You had gotten too excited, you hadn’t paid attention, hadn’t noticed his dirty clothes hanging off his very thin frame, the shiftiness in his attitude, the strange look in his eyes, he didn’t seem…well. 

“N-No, I, uh…I came from the airport.” You look behind you, back in the direction you came from.

It only took a second for you to take your eyes off him, and in that second the man decided to attack.

“Hey!” You stumble backward as he tries to pull off your backpack. “Get off! Stop!”

You were used to zombies attacking you, trying to bite you. If it had been a zombie, you would have yanked out your knife before even thinking, stopped the monster immediately and been on your way. 

But a human attacking you? Someone living? 

It caught you so off guard you couldn’t react. You fall on the ground trying to get away.

The stranger lunges at your bike instead, still standing abandoned by you. You scramble to your feet, grabbing on to the handle bars as he tries to mount your bike. 

You start hitting him with your fist, yanking on the bike in between punches to get it away from him. 

‘Is this really happening?!’ you think. You just met and he’s trying to steal your bike?!’

He starts hitting you back, yelling in his weakened efforts. That noise was too similar, and you were bitterly reminded of the airport. You grunt, getting winded from your fighting. Yanking hard on your bike, you maneuver it out of his grasp, only for him to attack you again. 

Even in his weakened state, his adrenaline had managed to make him strong and combative. If you’re not careful, you could get seriously injured, probably left for dead, without your bike, without anyone, dying alone and abandoned…

Again?! Fuck this, fuck him!

You put your knife against his throat and he finally stops trying to attack you. You tried to sound threatening when you told him to stop. But the truth was you were terrified, more terrified than you had ever been at the airport. What if he decided to not listen to you? You didn’t think you could go through with it, you couldn’t kill this man.

“Stop! Get away!” you plead, screaming.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so hungry, I’m sorry! I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He bows his head, wailing.

You try to steady your hand, but the knife shakes in your grasp. You’ve stopped fighting each other but you can’t seem to catch your breath.

You roll the bike further away from him, arm still outstretched, pointing the knife at him in warning. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, wanting to cry.

You’re sorry too. 

---

You startle, even when Namjoon whispers your name, squeezing your shivering body. “Huh?” You’re lying next to him, you cannot remember when you’ve moved here.

“You were crying in your sleep,” Namjoon says in a concerned hushed voice.

You rub your eyes in your tiredness. It was true, your eyes felt puffy, your cheeks sticky with tears.

You turn your head to look at him, and he looks back at you, concern etched across his brows. Twilight has begun and soon the sun will be up. You sigh, you felt safer in the dark and safest next to Namjoon and the others.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was dreaming about my bike,” you laugh half-heartedly.

But Namjoon doesn’t laugh. “We all…have them, the nightmares-”

“I know.”

“So you can talk to me..us about it. You don’t have to always keep everything in. It’s not healthy.”

“Okay Doctor Kim.”

Namjoon sighs. He’s too cute when his brows furrow, his hair sticking up from sleeping, you can’t help but giggle. “The monsters I dream about aren’t the dead kind,” you whisper. “Sometimes, I just-” you sigh, “-feel like running away.”

“Run away from us? I would track you down,” Namjoon says.

You can’t help but smile, closing your eyes. “I won’t, I’d be too worried you’ll get yourselves killed without me.” 

He reaches for your cheek, lying his tired arm against you. “I’m scared,” you mumble.

“Why?”

“We’re going to run into more people eventually, what if next time…something horrible happens? Sometimes I feel like I made a mistake. I should have stayed away.” You think back to the first time you encountered him again. “At the time I wanted to hurt you, I wanted revenge, and then…” you mumble, reaching for him in the darkness. “People..are dangerous. You were safer with Kanhgo on the farm.” ‘Maybe everything about this was a mistake, not just Yoongi kissing you,’ you want to tell him.

“I think we met at the right time. You don’t know how it was before, we were all...too close to death, too friendly to the idea, to dying. It was in that house, sitting with us, all the time. Do you understand? You saved m– us.”

You don’t hear what he says next, already falling under sleep, too content next to Namjoon despite the looming danger outside. 

Namjoon stares at your closed eyelids and relaxes, scooting closer to your sleeping frame.

---

You wake up out of breath, body shaking. You couldn’t remember your dream, but from your pounding heart rate, your sweat drenched clothes, and the dread you feel lifting away, you suspect it was awful. You jump when arms grab you, pull you in and hug you tightly. 

“You’re okay.” You hear Jimin mumble against your shoulder, soft and soothing.

You see Namjoon still asleep next to you. The day is out. It’s only the four of you left asleep, the others already awake and going through the house.

“Go back to sleep,” Jimin murmurs. But you can’t, not with all that adrenaline coursing through you now, so you watch Namjoon’s peaceful sleeping face, so close to you. You start memorizing his frown lines and birthmarks and cuts still healing, calming yourself down. 

You make a promise to yourself that when you reach Seoul, when Namjoon finds his family, when you eventually go your separate ways, you’re never going to forget him just like this, your friend and your idol trusting you enough to sleep peacefully while death now stands outside.

---

You raid the town’s fire department in the morning. 

No firetruck anymore to your disappointment. 

But there was an axe left behind in haste, some canned food, bandages and antiseptic; incredibly valuable finds. You grab as many helmets as you can carry, intent on sticking them on a few members’ heads. 

“Hobi!” you call out, “Come here!” Hoseok finds you and lets you dress him up in your newly acquired gear. 

It is just as you suspected, you sigh, head in your palms as you watch Hoseok clog around in heavy boots, rolling up the jacket sleeves.

Hoseok would make the. hottest. firefighter.

 Man, you wish selfies were still a thing.

“What are you guys doing?

You drop a helmet onto Taehyung’s head. “Nothing,” you smile. 

“Alright, enough playing around.” Namjoon says, coming back with a full backpack. You pout, pulling off the huge firefighter jacket you found and offering it to Namjoon, hopeful. He eyes the jacket. “C’mon, it’s definitely your size!” 

“Firefighters your thing, eh?” Seokjin rounds a corner. He looks so dashing decked out in uniform. 

“...Maybe.” you tease. 

“Help!” That’s Jungkook’s voice.

He’s stuck in a corner, fighting off two of the largest zombies you’ve ever seen.

These particular zombies, not only look massive and strong, they are also wearing helmets, protecting their most vulnerable spot, and the exact area you need to access to stop their attack.

How the hell are you going to kill them?!

The axe! Namjoon swings it into one of the zombie’s shoulders, completely dislocating the entire arm, while Jungkook keeps his bat lodged in the zombies’ mouths. 

Namjoon brings the axe down again and again, as if he were hacking at a tree. You grimace, you definitely could not use what came off as firewood. “This is so gross.” You look down at what remains, two heads still animatedly trying to bite your shins.

“Sorry,” you wince, stabbing the heads through the eye quickly.

As you sneak your way back to the house, Taehyung decides to ask you, “Why do you always do that?”

You massage your neck, “Do what?”

“Say you’re sorry. You always do it.”

You smile sadly. “Because I am sorry. It’s not their fault, you know. I am sure a man like that always wanted to help people, not eat them.”

‘Man,’ Taehyung certainly did not consider what that firefighter was reduced to, to be anything close to man. “Well I don’t think they understand you.” 

“Hey! My Korean is not that bad!”

Taehyung bumps your shoulder, “You know what I mean!” he laughs.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you sigh. “Their ears are still there, why wouldn’t they understand? Do you think they aren’t in there anymore?”

“I hope not.” Taehyung shudders.

“I guess we’ll never know until we become one…” you hum.

“Kill me before then.” Taehyung mutters.

You offer him your hand, “Deal.”

“If I become a zombie, put a muzzle on me and keep me as a pet.” Seokjin drapes his arms over you and Taehyung.

“Deal!”

“No way!”

“What about you, y/n?”

“If I become a zombie?” You catch Namjoon staring at you. “I don’t know,” you think back to the airport. “I like to think I would be able to you know, but when it comes down to it, I don’t think I could kill myself…” you shrug. “But if I try to eat you, you do have my permission to-” you swing your arm back and forth, aiming for Seokjin’s head, laughing when he yells at you.

---

“What if we go this way? Closer to the river? That might be safer?”

“What about the school?”

“No, that’s usually where the town would find shelter. If just one of them was bitten…I think we should avoid this whole area.”

“What’s this word?” you point to the character on the small map. You, Namjoon, and Yoongi are looking over the withered piece of paper, trying to find the best place to find shelter before night.

“That’s like a, ‘Government Building.’” Namjoon answers in English. “A town hall.”

“What about that church?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea either.”

“What about this street, with all the stores? We could find a place to stay there. Close to supplies? And close to water!”

“Look! Military base.” Yoongi points to the map.

“That’s so far.”

“Tire shop? We could find a running car?”

“Y/n, can we talk?”

“Jimin, just wait,” Namjoon answers for you, stepping closer to you as you study the map.

You rub your temples. Your head hurts trying to decipher the map, speaking Korean rather than reading it has always been easier for you. “Wherever you want to go, I’ll go.” you massage Namjoon’s shoulder, stepping away. You switch positions with Jin as you make your way to Jimin.

-

“Where’s Jungkook and Tae?”

“Working on the well.”

“Should we go watch them? Stand guard?”

Jimin pulls you back, “They got it, we already made sure it’s safe.”

“Oh, alright,” you tilt your head at him, he’s acting a bit impatient. “Are you okay?”

“I just…you’re always– it’s hard to get your attention,” Jimin swallows.

“What? Well, I’m here now,” you say softly, running your hand down Jimin’s arm until you reach his hand, squeezing it with your own.

Jimin squeezes your hand back. “Come with me,” he says more confidently. Jimin leads you back into the house, inside a bedroom, and then inside…the closet? You stumble into boxes full of someone else’s treasured memories.

“Well the closet wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

“I just wanted uninterrupted time with you.” In this small house, hiding away might be the only way Jimin could be with you alone. “I just want to make sure we definitely won’t be bothered,” Jimin sighs, leaning into clothes.

Clothes! You lean against him, picking a shirt off the hanger. You’re so excited by your find, you don’t notice how tense Jimin gets when your body presses up against him. “This would look good on you!” you hold up the shirt you chose.

Jimin takes a deep breath. “Y/n…”

You freeze when you catch his eyes. “Jimin…”

Oh god, why did you say his name like that? All breathy and high pitched and…needy…oh no, why does he have to look at you like that?!

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jimin murmurs, smirking.

Wait, how are you looking at him? You didn’t have very much of a poker face, despite what you thought. “Huh?”

Why does his lips have to be so soft when he kisses you? How does his tongue do that thing-

“Jimin, we can’t,” you step back.

You definitely did not mean to pull him back with you.

He chuckles against your lips, kissing you deeper.

“Wait.” You are suddenly very aware of how hot and cramped you were. You find the door knob, grateful for the new space to clear your head. “W-We really can’t. We should– We shouldn’t! We shouldn’t-” Why can’t you catch your breath?!

“We definitely shouldn’t,” he jokes, resting his hand on the bed’s post.

You exhale, looking at the empty bed. Not doing things with Jimin sounds very appealing. But you can’t! Why “can’t” you again? Oh yeah-

You sit on the bed, looking up at Jimin.

Jimin who is looking down at you with that tiny pleased smirk he can’t stop showing.

You stand up abruptly. No, a relationship was too risky, even if the threat of being eaten didn’t loom over your heads. And what if...

What if Jimin got tired of you, came to his senses once he reached Seoul and had more options? 

“I thought we agreed to wait until Seoul-”

Waiting looks like the very last thing Jimin wants to do. “What if I don't make it to Seoul?!”

“Don’t say that!” you hiss. Why did he have to say that? Now you feel like crying. You must have looked upset, because Jimin is now looking at you with a mixture of confusion and worry. 

Jimin hugs you close, arms wrapped around you tightly, like he knows you will fall apart if he doesn’t. His lips are trembling against your neck, you can feel your own body trembling against his. 

You are not strong enough to resist him. 

“Please Jimin, all I’m saying is you might feel differently once we get to Seoul-”

“I won’t-”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

It’s easier to speak when you are looking away from Jimin. “Everything that’s happened…that is happening, it’s easy to, you know, want to feel something other than fear or loneliness,” you swallow. “And I’m convenient to do that with,” you let your hands drop away from his embrace. “I feel like we’re just using each other, and once it’s not convenient, you won’t want me anymore. That’s why I wanted to wait.” 

“I’m not using you, y/n!”

You look up at the ceiling to keep from crying. You weren’t from a rich family, or famous, you weren’t gifted, you weren’t special. You would have never been more than a fan to them had the world not gone to shit…

They left you alone.

You don't forget that, that nagging feeling always in the pit of your stomach, always tight around your chest when you notice one of them giving you that look, the one Jimin is giving you right now. The look Yoongi gave you after he said what a “mistake” it was kissing you.

And if you let Jimin kiss you again, have you on this bed, could you handle it if he tells you someday later, those exact words? You’re overcome with a weird feeling. Are you okay with that? 

He’s looking at your lips.

Maybe you should. Fuck it. Yolo. Or whatever.

Can you push away those feelings?

Is...that what Yoongi did to you?

“Is everything okay?”

“Go away Namjoon!” Jimin yells as you pull away from one another as the bedroom door opens.

“What? Excuse me, Park Jimin?” Namjoon is staring at your distressed anxious expression. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s fine. I-I’m fine. I…I need some air.”

Jimin grabbed your arm. He didn’t want to let you go, he knew you had a penchant for being reckless, and especially if you were about to go outside, he was definitely going to put a stop to it. 

It probably sounded like a whimper, the sound you made when Jimin held you again, the way Namjoon was right by your side in an instant. “Let her go, Jimin!” He warns, holding both yours and Jimin’s arms.

“Kim Namjoon, why do you let her put herself in danger all the time?!”

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME, PARK JIMIN?”

You wince at Namjoon’s booming voice so close to your ear. You hear footsteps rushing towards the room, so you rip yourself away from both men’s grasp.

Well, you just locked yourself in the closet. You just did that.

The men stare at the closed door for a while. They hear your muffled voice yell back, “I’m fine! I just need some time alone…in here. I won't go outside, I promise!”

---

You finally leave the closet when Seokjin knocks softly on the door telling you dinner is ready. You carry a box full of clothes, shirts and pants for each man to try on, and a new outlook on things after shifting through old keepsakes, a collection of items that told a story of a couple who must have been together for decades. You want that. But that kind of life, like old movie tickets, developed film, and festival prizes, that kind of blissful happiness was not possible for anyone anymore.

“Do we have water?” you ask Jungkook. He looks exhausted.

“Drinking water, yes.”

“What about…cleaning water?” you ask, hopeful. 

“What about soap?” Jungkook asks.

You smile wide, clapping your hands together, pulling out everything you found and setting it up in a neatly filed line in front of Jungkook. “You have first pick, of course, if you get me that water,” you smile deviously.

Jungkook grabs the shampoo and conditioner combo. “You will have it all set up for you tomorrow when you get back from scouting.”

“Yay!” You give the youngest the tightest biggest hug you could muster up. “Oh! Maybe I should wait until after I bathe to give you a hug-”

“No! Hug now, and hug tomorrow!” Jungkook squeezes the air out of you. You giggle, despite not being able to inhale.

---

“Are you still mad at me?” Yoongi asks wearily, finally speaking up. “I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to apologize, Yoongi.” You dig through the neighboring house’s kitchen, handing Yoongi the cans of food you found. “I’ll just try not to act so irresistible next time,” you joke, in brighter spirits, winking at the idol.

Yoongi places the items in his pack, relieved you weren’t giving him the cold shoulder.

“Oh, thanks,” he says sarcastically. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job though with that smell.”

“Okay, mister! Oh look, I found some food for you!” You throw him some cat food, laughing.

“I expect a two course meal tonight,” you tease, after finding spam and more canned veggies.

“I’ll make sure to prepare a second course all for you with the cat food you found.”

“Ew!” You shove him playfully. “I guess I won’t share my dessert with you then.”

“What dessert?”

“You think these are still good?” You pull out a full box of chocopie from your pack. You smile in satisfaction at Yoongi’s stunned face. 

“I guess I will have to make you a three course meal then,” Yoongi says, making you smile wider.

A noise makes you jump, and Yoongi instinctively covers your body with his. You force your head under his arm, unwilling to let him sacrifice himself for you.

“Stay behind me!” Yoongi hisses.

“No, you stay behind me!”

Yoongi shoves you with all his strength away from the noise closing in. It catches you off guard as you stumble backward, you hadn’t expected Yoongi to use so much force.

So you jump on his back, sending him stumbling and crashing into a very nice looking cabinet...full of glass wear.

Two of the biggest racoons you’ve ever seen in your life scurry out of the shadows and past you and Yoongi, making you squeal and tighten your grip around the rapper.

Yoongi sighs, freezing against you when he realizes his hands are holding your thighs.

“Next time just get behind me,” you mumble.

“No fucking way.”

You should be mad at him, but you can’t help but smile.

Yoongi should be mad at you, but all his anger dissipates seeing your smile.

You pass by a record player on your way out. “Yoongi! Do you think we could make it work?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “It needs electricity.”

“You can’t just turn the record with your finger?” You sound so desperate to hear music.

“The speakers won’t work without electricity. Sorry, y/n.”

You nod, crestfallen. Yoongi hides his disappointment too, the rapper wishes most of all to hear music again. You grab a pile of records, “just in case,” you say, hoping one day to find a way to play them. It makes Yoongi sad and happy all at once. He wouldn’t have done that, had any hope like that to begin with. 

You both walk back to your new found home quietly, but now shoulder to shoulder.

You gasp, making Yoongi pause. “Oh! Look at that. The wall-”

Vine had grown all over the concrete fence. Between the two panels, vegetation had come in between them and on the sides, and now the gray that could still be seen resembled-

“It looks like the Army logo!” you laugh happily.

Yoongi looks at you. His eyes seem lost and far away and so reverent, and at the same time, he looks at you with that same reverence.

And Yoongi knows he shouldn’t. Not after Seokjin had confessed to him his growing feelings for you, or when Jimin looks at you so longingly during those moments you’re not looking.

Not after Yoongi had noticed the way his leader always gravitates to your side, and Jungkook’s red ears and wide smile when you give him your undivided attention. Yoongi knows there was already enough discontent in the group. He shouldn’t feel the same way.

But you’ve wound yourself around him like those branches. 

You’ve grown on the rapper, your attitude and your kindness and your strength and your smile. He feels it, that excitement when he looks at the hidden symbol, only for a second, only because of you, and he’s grateful to you. 

Your eyes follow his gaze, looking at him in excitement over such a small thing, a small sign that meant…still means so much to him…so much it hurts to remember. It hurts to think about what he had and what he lost. You mean so much to him. And he can’t lose you too.

Your eyes sparkle before they turn questioning, and before you can ask, Yoongi is already kissing you.

Your eyes widen, and your hand presses against his chest. Yoongi’s muscles are hard against your palm and makes you gasp how solid and warm he feels. He kisses you deeper, quickly, indulgently before he makes himself pull away.

You're both breathing hard, you look at him surprised, mouth agape, your lips still tingling from his contact.

He did it right in front of the house.

And right in front of his bandmates, waiting for both of you to return. 

Shit, he thinks. Where did all his control go?! He wishes he could blame you, after all the things you do to make his heart burst so much he bursts to feel you.

He makes a quick apology before turning away from you. He knows he’s fucked up again when he feels your grip on his shoulder as you try to pull him back unsuccessfully and your silence following.

Maybe somewhere deep down he wanted you to chase him, and somewhere deeper he was disappointed you didn’t.

---

“Someone kissed you, someone here kissed you?! One of my brothers kissed you?!”

“No! No, no.” You say rather unconvincingly in Jimin’s opinion. 

“...”

“Yes?”

“So? Who was it? I know it wasn’t Jungkook or Taehyung because they were the ones whispering about it.”

You groan inwardly. “Well it doesn’t really matter, because he didn’t mean to, but um, it was– and he regrets it! I think. Well he definitely regretted the first time-” you mumble, annoyed.

“First?! As in, this was the second time?!”

“Uhhhh…”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“...”

Jimin sighs, rubbing his eyes. “So that’s why you didn’t want to be with me,” he laughs bitterly.

“What! No! Well yes…but not for that reason! Ugh! Jimin please,” you inhale deeply, “Yoongi regretted it as soon as it happened. I just didn’t want you…if we had done more, I didn’t want you to feel stuck with me once we reached Seoul,” you sigh.

“YOONGI KISSED YOU? TWICE?!”

“Eh? No? Yes?”

“You do know zombies are attracted to noise, right?!”

“Shut up, Dev!”

Taehyung and Jungkook, the cause of this commotion (because it was definitely not you and Yoongi) pull Jimin away. 

“Maybe you should go check the bathroom, y/n,” Jungkook pleads.

You don’t have to be told twice. You nod, at a loss for words.

-

You stare at the half filled plastic tub situated in the middle of the bathroom, contemplating on drowning yourself. 

It would certainly make things easier for the group. You decide probably not the best thing to do at the moment and pull off your shirt.

The door opens mid undress, and you decide to just pull off the dirtied material anyways.

“Oh shit, sorry! I thought you might have been done already.”

“Oh, I was…preoccupied.” Interrogated, more like it, you sigh. You cover your chest with the dirtied shirt, staring at BTS leader, Kim Namjoon, who looks sheepishly at his feet. “You wanted to use the water?” you ask hesitantly.

“No,” he lies, “We already washed up.”

“You did a shit job.” You notice his hair is still a little bit greasy.

Namjoon laughs. “Well Jungkook is rationing water like a maniac, we were only allowed a bowl full each.”

You suddenly feel horrible looking at the tub full of water you were about to use. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair, you can use the water first.”

“No, no! You deserve it out of all of us.”

“What?! No I don’t!” you exclaim, pulling Namjoon to the tub and heading for the door.

“Hold up, Jungkook will murder me if you don’t use this water,” Namjoon laughs.

You pause. Grabbing a towel and soaking it, you squirt soap across it. “Well…you need it more,” you smile half heartedly, holding the towel out for him to take. “Please.”

Namjoon sighs, pausing at the door. 

He shuts it.

-

You sit on the closed toilet, suddenly realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in as Namjoon pulls off his shirt. He takes the towel from you, holding it to his face and sighing.

Where did your shirt go?! Should you go put a shirt back on? Should you leave and give him privacy? Or maybe you should stay very very still in hopes he forgets you’re still here. You glance over at Namjoon, trying not to stare as he wipes his chest.

Namjoon bends over your lap, wetting the towel again.

“Do you want help with your err back?” you ask.

Namjoon looks over at you. He hasn’t said a word since he’s closed the door. He simply nods, turning his back to you.

You notice all the scars littered across his torso and arms. It's sad what this new world does to you, you can’t escape it no matter who you are.

You wipe down his spine and across, over a particularly deep looking scar. It’s so close to his spleen, it must have been a scary situation. “How did you get that one?” 

“I think it was when we were running through the woods after our first lake run. We hadn’t anticipated so many of them. I fell down and got jabbed by a branch, went in pretty deep,” he grunts, remembering the pain and having to get back up and keep running even as blood seeped out of his gash.

“Clumsy,” you tsk. Namjoon chuckles, back to being silent. So you tell him to lean over the tub. You cup water in your palms to wet his hair and you grab some of your shampoo.

He sighs as your nails massage the soap into his scalp, his arm absentmindedly holding your leg. You tell yourself it's so his clumsy self stays steady.

You pick up a cup and let the water run through his hair. “Don’t tell the others I did that for you, they might get mad at me.” You wonder just how mad Jimin currently is.

He shakes his head, flinging water at you, nodding happily. You laugh, looking away. His pants are soaking. 

“Thank you.”

“I can leave, so you can finish cleaning your body,” you mumble.

“Or,” Namjoon says softly, “you could stay.”

That makes you look up. Namjoon stands upright, he looks so tense and wound up. You are faring no better, and this was supposed to be a relaxing experience! 

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask slowly.

“Yes.” Namjoon says without missing a beat.

“Okay. So, I’ll stay,” you swallow.

“I can help you too, wash your back.” 

You scoff. But he’s serious.

You have gotten very close to them, spending every waking minute with them, falling asleep in their arms, you’ve lost count how many times it’s happened. You try to always tell yourself it’s what you must do to survive, that’s all there is to it. That sort of familiarity was a kind of preservation.

This is probably the closest thing you’ve done with the leader. And the way he looks at you, with such a soft look in his eyes, making you second guess yourself, that mantra just doesn’t seem to fit this time. 

You decidedly turn around, reaching for your bra clasp. Namjoon undoes it quickly, easily, surprising you.

Now it's Namjoon’s turn to look over the scars littering your body. They look deep and painful.

He touches one in particular. It’s a miracle you lived. 

He holds his hand there, over the scar, palm resting on your side. Your heart feels like it’s pumping a thousand beats per minute.

He delicately runs the towel across your shoulder blades as you cross your arms over your chest.

You shiver when the cold cloth touches your skin. “I told you it was going to be cold,” Namjoon laughs. “You wanted to soak in that.”

“I’ll still do it,” you say stubbornly, getting used to the cool sensation.

You turn around once he seems to have gone over your back three times over. You were both topless, however you kept yourself covered with your arms. You didn’t protest when he wiped your neck and collar bone. You were concentrating on not making any noise at all actually, worried for the sounds that might come out.

Namjoon was taking deeper breaths, through and out his nose.

You wondered what kind of reaction he would have if you dropped your hands.

You also wondered how long it’s been since Namjoon has seen a woman’s body up close like this. You had already noticed how his eyes kept glancing down at your cleavage every other second. It’s been a long time since someone has seen you naked.

It would be like a thank you. 

Were you really thinking about flashing the idol?!

But Namjoon…has become more. Felt like more…he was more to you. He’s more special to you than you could have possibly imagined.

Also you just kind of want to see his reaction. You chuckle.

Namjoon quirks his head, a small smile surfacing. “What?”

Oh god, what’s wrong with you?! Was the thought of showing him your boobs that amusing to you?

“I just realized you’re the only person that can really see me like this.”

“Is that why you’re avoiding Jimin?” He asks.

“Part of the reason,” you mumble.

“The others will-”

“No.” You shut down whatever his suggestion might be. “You’re the only person I trust completely, Namjoon.”

He nods. “I trust you completely too.”

You shy away, turning back around. Hearing your words repeated back to you, you didn’t realize how…intimate it sounded.

You hear Namjoon unbuckling his belt. You didn’t know what to do, so you started unbuttoning your pants as well. For some reason, your brain thought if you were both naked, that would make it less awkward. The mind is a funny thing.

You let your pants drop. Your heart rate is now ringing inside your ears.

You stumble over to the small tub, standing in the middle, waiting, glancing over your shoulder to a very naked Namjoon, hands over his manhood.

“You’re not really gonna-”

“Oh, I definitely am.” You try to sound as confident as possible with your heart fully jumping outside your chest and your eyes staring directly at your toes. “You too?”

-

“How is it?”

“Freezing.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Whatever!” You cup some water and let it trickle down your front.

It’s cramped as hell, you’re trying very hard to ignore Namjoon’s naked member pressed up against your bum. The water is cold, but every place Namjoon's skin comes into contact with yours, warmth is radiating.

Namjoon smiles. You're spooned against his front, knees pulled to your chest. He has to reach down your legs to wet his towel again, running the damp cloth across his neck and shoulder. He relaxes against you, resting his head against the tub’s rim as you meticulously lather soap over your body and through your hair. He tries to remember what compelled him to do this with you. 

He wanted to be closer with you, and well now, he thinks there is no way he could possibly get any closer unless he jumped into your skin.

He didn’t want to leave you. Even though he knew he should have gone the moment he saw your shirt over your arms and your cleavage on display. He knew you were just being nice offering him your bath, but you looked at him eyes so pleadingly, half naked too, Namjoon wanted to stay with you, so he did.

He didn’t want you to leave him either. So he asked you to stay. He told himself, if you said no, then he wouldn’t push, he would accept that was going to be as close as he would be able to get for now. But then you stayed. He got what he wanted.

And now you were naked in his lap, happily splashing around while his balls froze, and Namjoon was exactly where he wanted to be. He probably shouldn’t feel so satisfied about it, but he’s been having to quietly deal with not being able to do what he truly wanted for so long…

“Well I’m having fun,” you laugh.

“Me too.”

“Y/n is that you?”

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s me. I’ll be out in a bit. I'm, um, busy!” You try to stand, but you have no footing.

“Oh okay!” Taehyung yells back. You listen for any sounds of movement. 

“I can’t find Hobi or Joon, do you know where they went?”

“No um no, I don’t know where Hobi OR JOON is! I don’t know, I’ll uhh help you look after I’m done…go away now– Close the bedroom door when you leave! I need to grab my clothes.”

Taehyung sees two large shirts on the bed. He likes the color of one. “You want them now?”

“NO! No no, I’m busy, you should leave. I can’t um concentrate with you there.”

“Okay okay.” Jeez. Taehyung pouts. It’s not like he hasn’t heard it all before. But women are touchy with things like that so he lets you have your privacy.

You had floundered like a fish, leaning over to make sure Taehyung could hear you, arm outstretched in case you needed to throw the door closed. You had completely forgotten your, very naked, predicament.

Two of those predicaments pressed right against Namjoon’s cheeks. 

Now you are very much understanding what you’ve done, and how rigid Namjoon is, trying not to think about you pressed up against him. And you notice how rigid something else is…..

You freeze in shock.

That doesn’t help Namjoon’s current situation.

“I can’t leave now. It will be too obvious,” Joon says, fighting every mortal urge inside him at this point.

You peel your breasts off him, falling out of the tub and onto slippery tile.

“I’ll leave!” Shit. Your own self restraint is hanging on by threads. You need alone time. How are you gonna get it here?

Fuck, it’s cold now, you’re missing Namjoon’s body against yours, you’re really missing it.

“Stay.”

“Namjoon, listen– oh,” you had intended to tell him the same thing you told Jimin, you hadn’t expected him to see him so...exposed.

Namjoo stood one foot out of the tub, skin wet and glistening, hand not so much covering much of anything as he gripped his very very erect cock.

Your mind goes blank. This was the first time you’ve seen him…that. Not in quick shy glances at the lake, not in unfocused looks, eyes downcast or upcast or anywhere but his fucking sexy body cast. You were shamelessly staring at the man in front of you, eyes wide open.

Namjoon looks so goddamn hot, so big. And you made him that hard, you can’t even bother to cover yourself, noticing his eyes looking hungrily at your bare chest as he runs his hand down his cock, gripping it tight. 

You look up at him, panting. Goddammit, he’s so goddamn hot, touching himself to your body. You might just hyperventilate right in front of him, but that would be super unsexy of you.

Namjoon runs his tongue across his bottom lip, grunting. Or was that a moan?!

You feel so wet, so burning up, you’re surprised the water hasn’t evaporated off your skin.

“If we…if we…we’re just helping each other. Like friends. We’re just…”

Namjoon nods, too horny to think straight anyways he’d agree to anything you said.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, just bends down, laying his body over yours so you can feel his warmth against you again.

It was your first kiss with Namjoon. Previously, there were moments at night when his lips grazed your shoulder, a couple times against the crook of your neck, that you chose to believe was something sort of a reflex he would do half asleep, probably remembering someone who was not you, an action he never mentioned once morning came. But this kiss was so desperate, full of passion and want. His lips were strong and rough, his mouth was devouring you.

You reach between your legs, gripping his length finally. “Fuck, you’re so hard,” you moan, impressed. “I am so wet right now.”

“Oh fuck,” Namjoon whimpers.

Fuck! He whimpered! 

Yep. You’re gonna do it. There is no fucking way you’re gonna leave here without cuming. 

You arch your back into him, hand now moving furiously up and down his cock. He kisses you, tongue licking into your open mouth. His fingers meet yours as he reaches for your center. You bite back moans, closing your eyes as his digits dig into your thigh, hiking up one leg to open you up for his skilled fingers.

You gasp, catching his eyes, the way his brows furrow and his intense gaze, so very different from when he’s half asleep. His fingers reach in deep inside you, a sensation you haven’t felt in so long. You try to focus on his pleasure, running your hand up and down his length, finding a speed he responds to the most and trying your best to keep it up as you fall apart under his own ministrations.

You finally lose your very intense very sexy staring match when he curls his fingers into you, your eyes rolling back. “Fuck…yes…yes,” you groan.

Namjoon is close, kissing you when he finally reaches his high, silencing himself against your lips as you shudder against him.

He breathes heavily against you. He wanted to do more with you, it was too quick, he was too quick, he thinks cursing himself, even though he should have anticipated that kind of reaction to finally being touched by another person in so long. But time, like everything now, is scarce.

You stare up at the ceiling, post orgasm clarity hitting you like a ton of bricks. Did you just really do that?! It just all happened so fast, and now Namjoon is laying over you so heavy you can't move. Namjoon lifts himself up after catching his breath and you stare at each other.

You wonder what he’s thinking. You’re too embarrassed to ask. At least you’re in the perfect place to clean yourselves up.

---

You’ve all decided to move tonight, closer to the river, closer to Seoul. Everything is packed! You’re all ready, well fed, prepared. You should all be feeling pretty confident at this point. But everyone’s in a bad mood, tense, well almost everyone.

Taehyung is staring at Namjoon’s new shirt suspiciously and the way he seems way too relaxed about things, the way he stands right behind you, extremely close, bodies touching like...no way...

‘No, definitely not.’ Taehyung thinks...he hopes not. Damn, he should have taken that shirt when he had the chance! You catch Taehyung’s narrowed stare and immediately look away like you are hiding something. “How did you like it?” Jungkook walks up to you, staring at your freshly cleaned face, you are glowing.

“It was perfect, thank you so so much,” you whisper.

“Do you still have some of the soap you used? You smell good.” You giggle when his nose tickles the crook of your neck as he sniffs you, knocking him away playfully.

“Mhmm it’s not soap,” you say happily, “It’s lotion!”

Jungkook holds his hand out expectantly. “Boy, your skin is perfect, you do not need it, I do!”

“Noona, share!” Jungkook whines.

“Finders keepers! Fine, I’ll let you borrow some later, remind me,” you laugh.

Taehyung stares at Namjoon, who is cracking his knuckles, his jaw tensing as he watches Jungkook touch you playfully. Taehyung notices the way his leader’s eyes immediately soften when you look over your shoulder and call his name asking if he was ready, smiling. He smiles too.

‘Oh my god,’ Taehyung thinks.

-

The group decides to break up into pairs and one trio. Normally you would have said, hell no, that’s being-chased-by-monsters rule number one, never split up the group! 

But it was easier to move around this way, to hide quickly.

The first pair would make sure they had the second always in their sights and it would go down the line like that, so it was easy to alert the closest pair to any signs of danger and the message could get to the whole group no matter how far spread out.

And it was strategic, one pair could lure monsters away while the others slipped through. Another pair could help you escape. And if it came to the worst, at least it would only be a few, and not all of you…

Taehyung decides to step in when you and Namjoon want to be paired together, so that’s why you are currently holding hands with the baritone singer, crab walking behind a fence.

You pass by shops with Taehyung, looking through the store windows. You want to explore, you would have if you were alone. But now you were part of a group, with a group objective, and group members who were counting on you, so you move steadily forward. That would have been a cute outfit though.

Every once in a while the pair in front of you stops, sends you and Taehyung a series of hand gestures to translate. This time, you learn there are nine zombies at your ten o’clock. 

Taehyung lets Jin and Yoongi know, telling them to follow you and him to the right while Namjoon and Hoseok throw rocks, leading the monsters away.

Taehyung has been unusually quiet. You suspect he’s probably mad at you on behalf of Jimin, so you don’t push him to make small talk. Grudges become trivial in these kinds of situations anyways. 

You turn a corner and notice three zombies hunched near the remains of a food stall. 

You wonder, were they customers at some point in their lives? They don’t notice you and they are pretty far away, but could definitely become a problem later. You and Taehyung exchange looks. “I’ll handle it,” you say.

“I got your back,” he whispers, signaling for the others to wait and hide.

One, down, a middle aged woman missing a huge chunk of her calf, her eyes so clouded she couldn’t see anymore, just smelled you too late.

Two, down, a business man still wearing his work suit, a hole in his jacket and his intestines falling out, his jaw crooked, a limp in his walk, he was already falling apart before you destroyed him completely.

The third one, he only had one bite mark on his neck. His clothes were grimy, like everything else in this new world, but his skin still had a lively color. He looks like he was turned not even a day ago, and he’s fast. 

You fall down. Taehyung sinks his knife into the undead’s neck when he jumps on you, but the angle doesn’t hit where it needs to and the zombie turns his body to attack the idol. You grab the zombie at his ankles, giving Taehyung enough time to strike where it counts. Taehyung is shaken but okay. You are winded but okay.

You see the two eldest running towards your location and you hold up your hand to tell them not to worry. But they don’t stop, instead signaling you to hide. Taehyung pulls you up by the elbow and you run towards the empty stall.

“Grab that guy!”

“What?!”

“Hurry!” you hiss, yanking the now fully dead woman across the pavement.

One, Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, you count. Did you hear that right? Ten different pairs of feet dragging across pavement, ten different tones, growling, passing by you and Taehyung, currently lying under a broken stall table, with two corpses covering you. They drag around you, bodies shadowed on the red plastic table cloth covering you and Taehyung.

You both stay hidden, taking short breaths, listening intently, fingers numb from holding each other. The plastic tablecloth keeps you hidden but also traps the heat in and doesn't give you any field of vision. God, it smells horrible, the smell of death. You squeeze Taehyung’s hand tighter, letting the pain take your mind off the stench. You notice sweat roll down his forehead as Taehyung scrunches up his nose, trying not to inhale the smell.

Taehyung looks at you, telling you to wait, because he already knows that you’re itching to leave, to run, to fight. He tightens his already crushing grip. 

“You remember what you promised me?” You promised Taehyung something? You look at him questioningly. “Before I become like them, kill me, so I don’t hurt my brothers.”

“We’re going to get out of here, okay?” Taehyung nods, very unconvinced. “Hobi and Joon, did you see where they ran?” Taehyung nods again, very not ready to leave. “I know you’re mad at me, but do you trust me?” Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not mad at you.” 

The growls can no longer be heard. You pull a corner of the table cloth up, looking around, seeing the undead group dispersed and in the distance, only moving shadows in the night now. “So you got my back, right?” Taehyung nods, eyes focused. “We’re gonna go really slow, clear the area as much as possible. If we see one, and they’re a slow one too, we’re gonna let them come to us.”

“And if it’s like him?” Taehyung gestures to the corpse next to him. 

You smile, “We’re gonna let them come to me. You take them down. We just have to last until the others get to us. I trust you, Tae.”

You’re breaking your second rule on being-chased-by-monsters. Always run from newly turned zombies. But you’re doing it for Taehyung, for the group. 

Also, you can’t deny that you and Taehyung have both gotten very good at defending yourselves. Of course every zombie encounter is life or death, of course it’s a terrifying experience to fight one, one Taehyung would rather avoid, but he hasn’t lost yet! The odds are in your favor.

This so happens to be just another night out in post apocalyptic times. And as you hold Taehyung’s hand, now standing in the middle of the unlit street, watching a few ambling monsters start ambling your way, you and Taehyung start to walk as if you were just out on a stroll, and you think, this is not the most horrible night out you’ve had post apocalypse, and you might even go far as to say pre-apocalypse either, thinking about that night you ended up in the ER. 

Twelve more, down, you and Taehyung have stopped. You stand back to back, looking around for any signs of life. 

“Should we just call out for help?” Taehyung suggests, looking around for any signals to where his brother’s have gone.

It’s so quiet now, you can only hear Taehyung, maybe the others are being quiet on purpose. “Not yet. Which way did you see Hobi and Joon go?”

“I think we should go back and find Jin and Yoongi.”

“Oh? Okay...” you let Taehyung lead you away. “W-Wait! Do you hear that?”

It sounds like a ticking, no, more like a pounding. Something heavy bumping into glass. You situate yourself against Taehyng’s back again. “What is that?”

“I don’t know, do you see where it’s coming from?” you whisper, looking at the buildings around you. Could it be the others? Are they in trouble?

Taehyung holds your hand, bracing himself, “Yeah.” He sees a young woman, banging on the glass in an abandoned store. It is fairly far, at first Taehyung thought she was signaling for help…

…but she’s banging on the door with her head.

There’s so much blood, but Taehyung can clearly see the way she bares her teeth. And in the shadows, Taehyung can just make out some movement, something else, coming closer. “We need to hide. Now!”

You look over your shoulder, to see what Taehyung sees, just in time to witness the glass break. Taehyung is leading you away before you can respond, running faster than you can keep up in the opposite direction. You stumble into an alleyway, looking for a place to hide. “WHY IS IT BLOCKED?!” 

You have found yourselves at a dead end, a car jammed in the narrowest alleyway, turned over on its side, probably trying to escape the exact kind of monsters chasing after you now. 

The monsters find you as you and Taehyung are desperately trying to climb over the car. “Wait wait wait!” Taehyung holds his hands up, knife ready to stab.

The zombie actually stops.

“Did you just speak zombie to her?” you ask incredulously.

It was probably a coincidence as the monster starts running towards you and Taehyung again. “Stop!”

“It’s not stopping, Taehyung! Just run!”

“It was worth another try.”

The zombie is catching up, not caring how badly damaged its body becomes as it catapults itself over the car. Taehyung trips, pulling you down with him. You’re sure to have cuts across your palms and elbows as you crawl away on the hard pavement.

Now the distance is closed, and there’s two more crawling over the top of the car like ants over a hill looking for something sweet to devour.

But before you can defend yourself, her head is already gone. “Get up!” An older man yells at you. Taehyung pulls you up as a strange group takes down the remaining zombies.

The stranger runs to the backdoor of a store, opening it with a key, ushering everyone inside until the last man joins you, and the old man locks the door again. “Thank you,” Taehyung says, winded.

The man introduces himself and the group. “We saw you outside, on the street,” he says. “It was impressive,” he adds. The pair of you seemed fearless taking on so many zombies, so he thought…

You stay quiet as Taehyung and the man talk. You look around, counting four other men and two women. You notice each woman clinging onto a man, presumably their boyfriend, and you glance down at your own hand, fingers still interlaced with Taehyung.

“Is it just you two?”

“Yes.” Taehyung says. There was another reason you broke off into groups, so if you ran into anyone living, depending on your situation, you could make sure they wouldn’t know about the others. “We’re trying to get to Seoul.” You hear soft laughter. Why is it always so funny?!

You haven’t spoken up, only stared at the group, trying to gauge their level of hostility. They seem curious about you and they don’t seem to have recognized Taehyung. “I don’t think there will be much left when you get there,” one of the men speaks up. “I escaped Seoul.”

They always say that too…

“What happened in Seoul?” Taehyung asks. “What do you remember?”

“What I remember? I think I blocked most of it out now,” he laughs bitterly. “The first day, it must have been half…half of everyone changed into biters by that night..” A few others nod their head in agreement. “We were told to stay in our homes, shelter in place, so we thought, ‘that’s good news,’ right? Someone would come and save us, bring us food and supplies at least, but there was...nothing. We had internet, we could contact our friends and family for a while. But power stopped eventually, and then we were really fucked to hell. No one came to help us, only to try to break down our doors to get inside. Once we finally left, it was completely changed, I’ve never seen anything like it. Seoul wasn’t Seoul anymore.”

“What about the military?”

“They tried their damndest from what I heard, but they were all overrun by those things, even the American base,” he eyes you up and down, wondering where you came from and if you understood him, your impassive face not giving anything away, He also questioned…bitterly…why a foreigner managed to survive all this time when his friends, his family, hadn’t. 

“It can’t all be destroyed,” Taehyung says, choking on his words.

The man clears his throat, “There were rumors of certain communities in Gangnam and in Itaewon that created a good enough fortification, what’s left of the military now fends off the biters for them. But we also heard they would shoot anyone who came close to their buildings, living or not really.”

Taehyung seems to light up at that new information regardless. If rumors and half truths were anything to go by, that meant there still might be some hope someone he knew survived. Taehyung turns to you, “That’s good news, right?” You nod. Well, if you were to ignore the shooting on sight part.

“T-That’s not– Did you listen to me? If you go to Seoul you will die.” The man interrupts. 

“You said there were survivors-”

“Yeah, they got the important people up in there, in their damn billion won penthouses, ready to kill off anyone who even tries to get close. It was rumored even the president ended up there. Or escaped to North Korea, some say. But it doesn’t matter, because they killed everyone else! They’re not going to let you in, even if you manage to get there. And the rest of the city is hell on earth. Trust me, you don’t want to take her there.”

Oh shit. You study the two women, do they recognize Taehyung? What will they do once they find out? Take out their anger on one of those billion won penthouse owners? Thank god it’s dark in here, only a few rays of light from the moon shine through the windows and everything else is in the shadows, you and Taehyung included.

“And you have a place here, if you want it.” The old man interjects. “It was impressive, what you did, both of you,” he repeats. He needs more people like you here, he needs more fighters. There’s already so many factions in Hongcheon, it’s a miracle his tiny group has survived up until now.

“Can we…think about it? We still need to get supplies, that’s why we came out in the first place. We’ll go out and come back here, now that we know this place is safe.” Taehyung says.

“Okay, go and help him.” The older man asks another.

“I can show you where we sleep,” one of the women walks up to you, putting her head on her hands in case you didn’t understand her.

“No, she’s coming with me,” Taehyung interjects. He hasn’t let go of your hand this entire time.

“I know you want to protect her.” The older man adds, noticing the way you stayed glued to each other, even when you fought the monsters you always held onto each other's hands unless you absolutely had to let go, only for moments at a time. “It would be safer for her to stay here.”

You look at Taehyung with wide eyes, trying to convey to him all the things you want to say. Like, hell fucking no! There is no fucking way you are letting him out of your sight! Who the fuck cares whatever place they have to sleep looks like?! They’ve got to be kidding-

“Uh, let me talk to her, to explain!” Taehyung pulls you away, deeper into the store.

“Taehyung, you can’t be seriously thin-”

“I noticed the front door is barricaded, there might be a window in the bathroom, no, that’s not gonna work-”

“Oh-”

“We need to leave, y/n. Right now.”

You nod. “Do you think they recognize who you are? We need to be careful.”

“Yeah.” Even if it’s been awhile, Taehyung knows better than anyone, he still can spot a fan just by the way they look at him, the way they act, or pretend to act.

“How are we going to leave without them noticing?” You glance over to the strangers, trying to see if they are talking amongst themselves, if they are being told about Taehyung.

He pulls you further away, eyeing the shelves, glancing over his shoulder at the group. Taehyung sighs. “I think we’re gonna have to break one of our rules-”

Oh great, there goes rule number three on being-chased-by-monsters, out the window.

-

“We know all the places that have been already cleared of biters, there might be a few stranglers, but nothing like what you just went through.”

“Okay,” Taehyung eyes the way you visibly frown as one of the women tries talking to you about the roles the men and women accomplish day by day, and he tries not to laugh. 

The more of these “chores” she goes through, the more it’s sounding like they want to turn you into a 1950s housewife. And she might be all too content to sweep the post apocalyptic dust around the store so it can settle into another corner for the next day, but you certainly are not!

And why is Taehyung smiling at you?! “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Taehyung gives you a hug, and touches your cheek softly, looking into your eyes like he’s about to kiss you.

And then he kisses you. 

What. You close your eyes and just go with it, trying not to look too surprised or too awkward.

And then he bends down and kisses your stomach, smiling, before giving you one last kiss on your forehead. “Just wait and remember to let them come to you,” he whispers against your temple.

Eh? Did Taehyung just Peeta you? You get he’s trying to protect you, but you think you might actually murder him after this. You look around, grinning as wide as you can pretend to, seeing everyone’s surprised faces.

“Wait,” you tug on Taehyung’s sleeve. Actually, you really hate this, you don’t want him to leave you here! So much has changed since you last broke rule number three: never go out at night on your own. You hold his head in your hands. Somehow holding him like this, with your foreheads and noses touching, feels more intimate than when your lips touched.

“Please, be careful…for the baby,” you add. Taehyung nods, smiling. He hugs you tight and you’re both reluctant to let each other go.

If they had any doubts you and Taehyung were together, they didn’t anymore.

-

“So, you’re pregnant?” The woman makes an arch over her stomach with her arm, “Baby?”

“Yep,” you fake smile, holding your belly and inwardly groaning. 

You walk aimlessly around the store, most of the shelves are empty now, apart from things like a row of pastel phone cases, this plastic thing that you can’t figure out what its supposed to be, hmm, it seems collapsible, but even the smaller size doesn’t make sense to you! And, ironically, you find a row of baby powder. Damn, even in the apocalypse people don’t forget how bad it is for you.

There’s the older gentleman, two women, and one of their boyfriend’s who stays behind in the store. Just wait, y/n. Wait. Did Taehyung forget how impatient you are?

“Bathroom?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s outside but we can’t go now. Wait. Later. Outside,” the woman, whom you learn is named Jinyoung, says, hoping you understand.

You sigh, you could make a fuss, you know pregnant women and their bladders, but you really don’t want to pee in a bucket somewhere inside here to prove a point. You flick the crumpled remains of some food packaging, sifting through the junk. Everything is empty apart from what you found, which Jinyoung promptly grabs from your grasp. “Oh, no, no good,” Jinyoung speaks up, “baby powder causes cancer.” You smile at her, laughing awkwardly.

The couple seems preoccupied at least, you think, they are all looking at you, however. You catch their eyes peering at you every so often. You feel like a caged animal putting on a show. This is an act in a way. 

The store is pretty clean despite having been ransacked. You could try and run upstairs to the living quarters, but you had no idea what was waiting up there for you. The front door is indeed blocked. The glass windows look thick, probably won’t break unless you throw something really heavy at it, and even if you want to escape, you won’t destroy their home to do it. The old man is standing guard by the back door, blocking your only exit. Ugh. 

It’s been awhile, at least a couple of hours now. You listen to the women whisper to one another while you try not to run head first into the glass like that zombie woman just so you can escape this place and search for Taehyung and the others.

“I knew there had to be a reason why he was with her.”

“He’s a good man, watching over her. They really care about each other.”

“Because she’s carrying his child, obviously.”

“That’s exciting though. A small Taehyungie, She’s so lucky.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be more people to feed.”

“It’s going to be the most beautiful baby, oh! You know, if she survives.”

“She definitely won’t.”

Mmm don’t think murderous thoughts, y/n. It’s bad for “the baby.” ‘It’s been too long, they should be here by now,’ you think. ‘Ok, screw this plan,’ you think, finding something you thought you’d never see again: a jar of gochujang paste.

“Hey old man, please will you move and open the door, I need to leave.”

“It’s not safe to go out alone, young lady. Your boyfriend should be back soon, don’t worry.”

“Are you holding me prisoner?”

“Of course not,” he says, flabbergasted not only by your accusation but your ability to speak fluently, “but I also will not allow you to put yourself in danger under my watch. I know we are strangers to you, for now, but we should still look out for one another-”

“Let her go if she wants to go!” one of the women says.

“I appreciate you saved my life, I really do. So this is a courtesy to you, I’m protecting you, from me.”

“What is she saying? She doesn’t make any sense.”

Ugh. “I’m bitten. I got bitten, and I’m going to turn, so let me out!”

“What?!” 

You lift up your shirt, “I didn’t want to say anything before, not in front of my…partner. But see, I have to go! You’re in danger the longer I’m in here!” You show him a scar on your side, where you have strategically placed the dark red paste to look like a bleeding bite mark.

“Kill her!”

“Or just let me leave?!”

“Oh my god, can we save the baby?”

“She’s not even showing! What are we gonna save?”

The younger man runs up to you, chasing you through the aisles. “Just let me go outside, damn.”

“Your Korean is so good!” Jinyoung exclaims.

“Thank you,” you say, barely dodging the man’s fist.

Suddenly, there is a pounding on the door, scaring everyone into silence. “Open the door!” Jinyoung exclaims.

“There’s a code,” the man waits. The pounding gets louder and quicker, rattling the door.

“What if they are in trouble! Open it!” you yell.

“What if it’s those biters?! We can’t let them in!”

“Hello, did you forget about me?!” you whine.

“OPEN IT!”

“Please, hurry!”

The older man relents, unlocking the door. And in bursts-

“Jin!” you cry out.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD.” Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi are right behind him. Someone, you can’t tell if it’s Jinyoung or the other woman, screams. 

Namjoon holds out his knife, pointing it at the old man. “We’re not going to hurt you, we just came to get our friend.” You run towards the singers as fast as your legs can take you.

There is another reason why you broke into pairs, so you could save each other. Namjoon grabs you first, pulling you into a hug. 

“She’s bitten, stay away from her!”

You pull out the gochujang from your pack, “Oh, I lied, sorry, I just really wanted to leave.”

“But t-the bite-”

“Fooled you, didn’t I? It does look like blood if you dilute it enough.”

“Oh my god, you found this?!” Seokjin asks excitedly.

“Let’s go!” Yoongi grunts.

-

“Where’s Taehyung?!” You jog up to the leader. 

“We’re getting there,” he says. You haven’t stopped running since leaving the store. 

Finally you see that moppy headed menace, running towards your group. “Next time YOU wait!”

“But my plan worked, didn’t it?”

“You really just had to tell them I’m pregnant?”

“Hey, I was doing it to protect you! I didn’t know if they might hurt you because of who you were.” Taehyung says, and the irony is not lost on you.

“How did you get away from those men?”

“It was pretty easy, I just said I was bit-”

“No way, me too!”

“How much longer do we have to run? My legs hurt!” Seokjin yells.

“Pace yourselves because it’s gonna be a while,” Hoseok says.

“Next thing we look for are some better shoes,” you whine.

A zombie runs towards your group, and you use the opportunity to take out your frustrations of the night, piercing through the monster’s jaw and up. The blood goes all over your clothes. Now you look just as dirty as the day before. “I just took a bath. UGH.”

“Don’t upset the baby!” Taehyung laughs, running away from you.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” you run. You turn the corner and find Jungkook, Jimin and Dev waiting for you. The group is now all together again, running into the night.

“So, anything new happen? How's the weather?” you ask Dev.

“Those zombies that were following us are taken care of,” Hoseok speaks up.

“We might have more than zombies following us now,” Taehyung adds. “Like living zombies, what are those called again?” he jokes.

“We ran into people too!” Jungkook says, running past you with ease. 

“Yeah?”

“They’re trying to get to Jeju!”

“Jeju, why?” Namjoon asks

“They said that’s the place with no zombies.”

“How do they know?” you ask, intrigued.

“Well they don’t, but that’s what others have told them and they sound pretty convinced.”

“Any news that’s not a rumor?”

“Y/n is pregnant with my child!”

“Yeah, that’s just a lie.”

Taehyung then goes into all the details you’ve learned about Seoul.

“So, we just have to figure out how to not get shot, convince them to let us in, and hope our families are somewhere inside?”

“I don’t think they would shoot BTS.” you say, confident.

“And we have no idea if any other place, if Big Hit, is a safe area or not.” Jin asks.

“I mean, it could be?”

“The odds are not great, but it’s not horrible odds, aye!”

“We’re gonna die.”

“Ugh shut up, Dev. We’re in Hongcheon and we’re doing…okay. I even found gochujang!”

“I can’t have spicy food.”

“UGH DEV PLEASE. It’s not even that spicy!”

“Damn, if only we had meat,” Jungkook sighs.

“Shhh Shh don’t do this to me now, I am running on fumes, literally.” Jin says.

“I want K-BBQ. Please god don’t let me die until I can have K-BBQ again,” Jungkook wails.

“Why are you laughing, y/n?”

“Nothing, it’s a bad joke. You don’t wanna know…also what are the odds a zombie has eaten a person that has been recently caught on fire?”

“Y/n!”

“BAHAHA.”

---

You wake up crying again.

Even in the bright daylight, your tired bodies were fast asleep. You ran all night, finally finding a suitable house that didn’t smell like death, and hid yourselves inside. You look over at the sleeping bodies around you, reflexively counting each head. Wait, what? Someone is missing!

You see the final head, leaning against the open door frame, looking outside. You move quietly and make your way over to him. “Yoongi?”

“Go back to sleep.”

“You should go back to sleep, you look exhausted,” you whisper.

“It was hard to sleep.”

“If you’re worried about someone standing guard, I can stay here.”

“It’s too sunny to sleep now.”

You sigh, giving up arguing with the rapper, sitting in silence with him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks, curious.

“I don’t know,” you laugh. “Sometimes I can remember the dreams, but most of the time I can’t, I just know it was probably something horrible.”

Yoongi has noticed the way you cry in your sleep, shake and whimper until someone holds you, only then will you calm down a bit, so the members take turns making sure you always have someone next to you when you’re resting. “I was thinking, once we get you guys to Seoul, I might try to go to Jeju,” you say wistfully.

“What about the Embassy?” he asks.

“What are they gonna do if they are still even there? How would they get me out of the country? I’m…not as confident that my family is still around.” You give Yoongi a sad smile.

“What about your family here?” You tilt your head, surprised by his words. “You’re gonna leave us?” he asks.

You bite your lip in thought. “I don’t know.” With the way everything changes so quickly, you had no idea what to anticipate. There are so many things that could happen before you reach Seoul and then after, you can’t even begin to figure out your future. “Do you want me to stay?”

Yoongi stays quiet. With you forever, is the implication. “Jeju is nice, I might go to Jeju too,” he says, not looking at you.

You smile at the thought. It’s nice to imagine what a trip there would have been like before the world turned upside down. You hold out your palm to him. “I promise to forget,” you tease.

He puts his fingers in between yours, holding your hand. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, thumb making circles into your skin when you rest your head on his shoulder. It’s pretty outside, in its own special way, how the trees and vines have covered everything now, how everything that’s abandoned sits still and serene. There’s even flowers, sprouting in the most unlikely places.

“Jimin’s mad at me.”

“He’s mad at me too.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Yoongi sighs. “I think he’s in love with you.” You freeze. “And I think you should give him a chance-” he continues. 

“Yoongi. It’s not that I don’t want to give Jimin a chance– Do you really think he’s in love with me?”

“Yea-”

“And if I wasn’t the only woman here do you think he would still be ‘in love’ with me?” you frown.

“Is that why-”

“I just don’t know, Yoongi, I don’t know if I can believe that. I don’t know if he really believes it, or just wants it to be true because I…I am-”

“The only woman here?” Yoongi finishes for you. You hum.

“That’s why you kissed me, right? And Namjoon, nevermind.”

Yoongi stays quiet, until finally asking, “And what do you feel?”

“I can’t, I can’t, I’m scared,” you start to laugh despite your welling eyes. “We almost died, again, last night, how can I let myself fall in love, if something happens, how can I survive that? I can’t.”

“And here I thought you were fearless,” Yoongi smirks, wiping away a stray tear.

You snort. “I’ve never been more scared.”

“You are my family,” you say, answering his previous question. “You are everything I have left. That’s how I feel.”

“Even Dev?”

You laugh, “Yes, even him…maybe.”

Yoongi watches you smile. He understands your fear, he’s felt it, let it consume him, weigh him down until he’s stuck inside himself, frozen by that fear. But this kind of new world forces you to face your demons. You can try to hide, alone, too scared to go outside and too scared to move, but he’s learned hiding in bed under the covers won’t keep you safe, won’t keep the people you love safe either. 

“It’s scary to put yourself out there. It was scary even before the world went to shit.”

“So did you have someone, before?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “No, not really. I was always so damn busy, it was hard to have anything serious. I would go into the studio, work all day, losing track of everything else, I told myself I had plenty of time to settle down. Funny now that I think about it.”

“After?” Yoongi sighs. He looks like he’s in pain, in thought. You hold his hand a little tighter out of reflex. “I’m sorry.” You assume, like most everyone else, the person he cared about is gone.

“To be honest, I can’t believe we made it this far,” you laugh, changing the subject. “You’ve got to have some new songs about all of this. Some, survivor-you-can’t-stop-me type song you’ve got.”

“Writing lyrics is not on the top of my to-do list right now.”

“Mhmm, you’re just collecting pens because you like them, right?”

“I have a few raps,” Yoongi confesses. “No music, no way to make a beat even if I want to.” You make a silent note to try to find Yoongi some kind of an instrument. “Music is gone.” 

“That’s a good song title. But I have to disagree, it’s not gone. I think there are songs everywhere just waiting to be written. This moment? There’s a song,” you look out at the landscape. “Hear it?” You hum a tune you feel.

Yoongi laughs. “You sound like Namjoon.” Namjoon. You can’t think about him without thinking about what happened. How did that even happen?! It was like some horny demon possessed both of you. 

You thought it would be awkward afterwards, but it wasn’t. You put on the clothes you laid out, handed him one of the shirts you found and you laughed when he tripped over his pants leg. Namjoon shoved you playfully, knocking you onto the bed. He looked at you without shying away and told you to put on some pants in a way that sounded like, “I like seeing you without any pants,” and then you both walked outside and acted like nothing ever happened.

But for some reason you can’t act like that with Yoongi, his kisses are haunting you still, his touch is still burning across your lips when you remember (even though you promised him you wouldn’t). You never really got a real answer from him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You sit in comfortable silence. The others haven’t stirred awake yet, and you’re content to sit here with Yoongi until they do. You wonder about him, though. Is he happy you’re keeping him company or feeling burdened? Yet he hasn’t let go of your hand.

“You guys are close to one another, you and Joon,” Yoongi says in sort of a questioning way.

“Yeah, I guess. He takes on everyone’s burdens, even my own,” you sigh.

Yoongi nods. He should let go of you. You hum that tune again, looking outside, holding Yoongi’s hand tightly. Instead he clicks his tongue to the beat, making you laugh loudly. “Sorry, sorry.” You look back at the others who thankfully haven’t woken up from your outburst. “That’s good! So you can hear it too then, the song out there,” you joke.

He feels stuck, knowing his brothers want you, and knowing how it feels to kiss you, knowing how soft your lips are, and knowing he can’t kiss you again, he just can’t.

“You’re beautiful.”

You stop laughing.

Yoongi said it in English. 

When you know two languages, it’s hard to explain the differences in the words and how they make you feel. You’ve been called yeppeun. You’ve seen the word in textbooks, heard it in lyrics and Korean shows. 

But beautiful is what your first boyfriend called you right before he kissed you, what your childhood best friend called the butterfly that landed on your knee when you were playing together, what your mom said when she looked at you before you left the house on your first date, what your grandmother called you as a kid so many times when she consoled you and held you in her arms as you cried. “My beautiful girl.”

You’ve been speaking Korean for so long now. It just feels different being called beautiful. Beautiful is what you haven’t felt like in a long time...

“I’m sorry!” you pull away from Yoongi after surprising him with a kiss. 

Yoongi nods. He had wanted to kiss you in that moment so badly he hadn’t expected you would kiss him. It was too quick, it was barely a kiss. Is that really going to be his last kiss with you? “I can’t kiss you anymore.”

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry.” You pull away further, but can’t go far with Yoongi’s vice grip around your fingers.

“I can’t-”

“I’m sorr-”

“I’m sorry.” And he takes the opportunity to kiss you one last time, letting all his unspoken emotions flow through his lips, his tight embrace. He feels your soft lips one last time, he lets his fingertips run across your cheek, your neck, rolls his tongue inside his mouth just once more. He finally breaks away and lets his thumb run across your lip, just to feel one last time.

That should have been the end, yet your eyes start shining, glassy as tears start forming, and you close the gap between you again.

Until you hear something off in the distance. “Did you see that?”

Yoongi looks in the direction you’re studying. “No?” He looks for any sign of life or, well, animated death.

“I swear I saw something,” You both stand up, searching for any movement for a while until you give up. And now kissing Yoongi seems to be left in the past, another thing you can’t get back.

---

One last supply run in the city before you move again.

Everything is empty, this run is not looking very fruitful. You’ve gone to three restaurant already and have managed to find only one tiny can of edible food. You’ve just entered the fourth restaurant and it doesn’t look like this place has anything to offer either.

So far you haven’t encountered any undead, which is the only good thing about this run, until you hear a noise coming from the kitchen of a restaurant you, Jimin, Jungkook and Namjoon are currently searching through.

“Yo RM, come here.”

“What’s up? 

“I thought I heard something over there.”

You make your way through the kitchen. Everything is either gone or moldy. You sigh, “I don’t know if we’re gonna find anything here either.”

“This part of town seems completely empty.”

“What are we gonna do? We need to eat.” You go through another cabinet, finding nothing.

“We still have some food leftover. We can keep trying, stay here for a few more days and check the other streets.”

You nod. This restaurant looks like it specialized in fried chicken, the oil smells putrid now. What’s left in the freezer would probably kill you if you tried to eat it.

“Man, this sucks,” you wipe the sweat accumulating off your forehead.

“Can we do anything with this?”

“Flour? Mmm we could make the blandest pancakes you’ll ever eat,” you laugh.

Namjoon pouts. He pulls off his jacket. It’s safer to wear layers when out, but the days are getting hotter, and no aircon inside makes certain spaces really unbearable.

“You should keep that on,” you eye the way his muscles flex.

“I’m burning up.” You cover his forehead with your palm, checking his temperature. “Not like that-” and Namjoon uses a word you don’t understand.

“What does that mean?”

“Genius.” By the way Namjoon is smiling at you, you just know it means the opposite. “Ow!” he winces when you hit him, looking so accosted you start to giggle. Namjoon hugs you from behind, and the big towering giant he is decides to lift you off your feet, making you squeal.

“N-Namjoon, Y/n!” Jimin sounds scared.

The kitchen door opens. “Sorry to break up whatever this is, but it’s time to come out now and join the others. Oh, you know she was kissing Yoongi the other day, looks like I was right. You’ve got your own groupie whore.”

You knew you felt eyes on you. “Hey Minho.”

“Hey bitch.” He points a gun at you and Namjoon. 

Who the fuck gave this man a gun?

Minho ushers you both out into the eating area, where they are several men with various weapons all aimed at your friends. Minho is the only one with a gun, though.

“I told you I would make you regret choosing her,” he says to Namjoon, sneering at you.

Minho looks possibly even more buff than you remember.  “I made new friends,” he smirks. His new friends look very unfriendly. They lounge around, overly confident, looking amused by the situation. 

“Of course you did,” you grunt. He pushes Namjoon towards Jungkook and Jimin and separates you from the others. 

“I just needed to have been an idol, then you would have given it up, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, grabbing the knives from your pockets and throwing them on the ground.

You roll your eyes. “You’re following us? That’s not creepy at all.”

“Where are the others?” Minho asks Namjoon. He grabs the back of your neck and holds the gun to your temple when Namjoon doesn’t speak. “Where are they?”

“Searching the restaurant next door. We’re only staying a couple more days, then we’ll leave this city.”

“Still believe you can make it to Seoul, huh?”

“Just let us go.”

“We will, after you give us your backpacks. Hurry up now.” The three men glare at him but relent, handing the thieves their packs.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you ask him.

“Nope,” Minho smirks. “Okay, you can leave now,” he points his gun at the leader.

“Wait, him too.” One of the men speaks up, pointing at Jimin.

“No. The deal was her.”

“Well the deal has changed, I want him too,” he eyes Jimin up and down. Namjoon and Jungkook instantly hide Jimin with their bodies.

You struggle in Minho’s hold. “Minho, what are you doing? What deal did you make with them?!”

Minho stares at Jimin. “Anyone else but him.”

The man looks between the singers. “He’s the prettiest, I want him.”

Minho pauses. Even if he wanted to hurt Namjoon, he still felt a sense to protect Jimin. It had been his job for so many years, and then it had been his decision to keep protecting the singers even after his position wasn’t official any longer. You, he didn’t care about you. But Jimin, deep down, he still cared about him. He couldn’t let something horrible happen to him, not when Minho could stop it.

Minho exhales exasperatedly. “Not him,” he says, pointing the gun at the thief.

“Minho, come on now, you and I both know there’s no bullets in that gun.” What? You elbow Minho in the stomach, running towards the kitchen when he doubles over in pain.

“Grab her!” one of the thieves yells.

Namjoon punches one of the men too distracted by you. Jungkook lunges for your knives on the ground and unleashes all the pent up fury he’s felt on the unlucky few who had tried to hold down the singer. Namjoon and Jimin exchange looks with Minho.

They charge the thieves.

---

“Leave me alone!” You swing a pan in the thief’s face as he swings his knife and both metal pieces clang together. You fall hard on the kitchen tile as he lunges at you. There’s more men, all armed, all coming for you, and the only weapon you have is a stupid pan!

-

You feel like you’re hyperventilating, trapped in such a small space. You bang on the door, crying. It finally opens and someone is shoved inside with you. He’s cut, bruised, thoroughly beat up.

“Piss off your new friends?”

“Not really, we’re going to finish what we started, yeah?”

“Touch me and I'll kill you.”

“I would like to see you try.”

“What happened? They didn’t take Jimin, did they?!” you ask, horrified.

“No, they escaped,” Minho grunts, thumb running over his cut lip.

“Oh. Good,” you say, relieved.

Minho laughs. “And you? Did you forget you’re their prisoner? They are going to do whatever they want to you?”

“If the others escaped, they’ll come for me.”

“You’ve got them whipped for you, must be really good pussy.”

“Ugh, maybe I’m more to them than just a hole, you fuck?”

“You really think they would give you a second glance under normal circumstances?”

“No! I don’t!” you scream. God, he pisses you off. “I thought you would have, that’s why I kissed you! Big mistake that fucking was.”

“So what, you kissed me because you thought I would lower my standards for you?” he jabs. 

Oh, this fucker! He says that like he wasn’t flirting with you for months on end before you kissed him. “You know what?” you cross your arms, “Yeah, I did, Minho. I thought maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to try and have something more with you so we wouldn’t have to, you know, die alone in an apocalypse. But then you ended up being the most vile despicable jackass-”

Minho throws your body against the door, arm pressed against your throat. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! This is all your fault! You ruined everything!”

The door opens just in time for you to catch in oxygen before you pass out. “Will you two shut the hell up! Take her to my room,” he says to one of his men, “Minho, you had your turn, now it’s mine.” It’s that thief, the one who wanted Jimin, the one who seems to be in charge. You scream until the wind is kicked out of you. “Don’t hit her face.”

You crumble inward, trying to cover your body from their kicks until one lifts you up, carrying you over his shoulder while you scream and cry.

-

Shit, the windows are boarded up. The bed, like everything in this building, looks disgusting. Everything else, you notice grimacing, is barren, like this room only had one purpose.

The door slides open.

“Okay girl, we can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

“I’m not easy.” You move to the furthest corner, pressing yourself up against the filing cabinet. You just had to wait, you are an expert at waiting, you tell yourself. You can do this, whatever happens, you can move past this, you tell yourself. Horrible things happen to you all the time, you’re just gonna have to add this to the tally.

“Good, I prefer the hard way.”

Please, god, let them find you soon.

You’ve met men like this before, men that think you owe them something just because you’re a woman. “Smile more,” men who think your body is for their eyes, created for their hands and their mouths and their-

You bite down on his hand, digging your nails into his face. He hits you, hard, but not hard enough to knock you out thankfully. He’s not that kind of man, at least, you think bitterly. He is the kind of man who has no qualms making you know how much stronger he is than you, making it hurt, wants you pretty but also will give you a black eye for daring to go against him. There’s so many men like that now. You feel lucky knowing you have men around you that don’t act like that.

You scream again.

---

Jungkook leaps up the stairs, taking two at a time. He’s in the lead. He’s always been fast, but this time, after months of running from monsters, and an insane amount of stamina, he’s like lightning.

This office building is small, but there are so many floors, and they’ve already cleared the first two without finding you. But Jungkook has a suspicion the men he’s searching for are on the top floor, so he trusts his gut and he races to find you.

Jungkook is the first to open the door to a group full of men surprised to have a visitor. He stays in the stair well, he’s not crazy enough to run in there alone yet, since the others haven’t caught up to him. He still has to keep a level head, let them come to him, let him knock each one of those bastards out. He grabs another and throws him over his back and down the stairs where his brothers are about to arrive.

Maybe Jungkook is a little crazy at this point, he throws someone over the railing into the open space between stairwells and the man screams as he falls five flights down, body clanging onto metal as his bones break. Jungkook uses his arms to defend from knives and gets his jacket and skin sliced in the process, yet he keeps on swinging while blood drips down his fists. Yeah, Jungkook is a bit crazed, but he has good reason to be as he hears you scream again for help.

He runs inside once he has his brothers behind him. He runs towards the sound of your screaming, knocking away anyone who gets in his way. He feels his restraint slipping, he feels like he might enjoy killing whoever is hurting you. It’s already been too long, your voice sounds small and broken. He throws his full weight into the locked door, knocking into the wood with his shoulder until the lock busts.

“Don’t even think about it.” You have a knife to your neck, your body shielding the man who has you captive, just another way he’s found to use your body. “Let me go and I won’t kill her.”

“Let her go or I will kill you.” The fighting has stopped. It’s clear to both men who won as Namjoon and Seokjin arrive to help Jungkook. The man holds onto you a bit tighter, he realizes he might be the only one left and by the look in his eyes he’s planning on surviving until the very end. He shuffles your bodies closer to the door, closer to his escape.

It’s an achingly slow pace as he makes sure no one can attack him from behind. He looks at the bodies of his men on the ground, realizing just how dangerous this group of yours is, he should have never made a deal with that damn Minho, he should have let him fight his own battles, now he’s standing in a graveyard of his own men.

You pass by each member and you can’t make eye contact, you let your tears silently fall, let your body be pulled in hopes it will all be over soon. He finally makes it to the stairwell, relieved. “Give me your word you won’t follow me and I’ll let you have her.”

“Fine,” Namjoon speaks for the group.

He presses his knife into your neck. “That doesn’t sound too convincing.”

Suddenly, his grip lessens. He drops his knife and, finally, you can get away. You turn around and see his surprised wide eyes. You feel just as shocked as he looks when he makes a gurgling noise instead of speaking.

And suddenly Dev’s equally shocked face pops up from behind the man’s shoulder.

He had been too scared to enter the office room, but looks like he hadn’t been too scared to stab the man holding you in the back of the neck. “I did it. I killed him,” he says, equally excited and petrified as the man falls onto the ground.

You look at him in shock. “Yeah.”

---

“He’s bleeding!”

“Taehyung, no…”

“Shit, I’ve never been stabbed before, this hurts.” Taehyung winces.

“Oh god, how do we stop the bleeding,” Jimin asks, panic rising in hiss voice.

Namjoon answers, “There’s one way, we have to burn it with something hot. Find a small knife-” 

“I’m going to be stabbed twice?!”

“Wouldn’t it be better to, like, stitch it, with a needle or something?” Taehyung grimaces, the thought of being sewn together without any pain medicine is making him feel sick.

“What about the internal bleeding?”

“Oh god.”

“You’re going to be fine, your body just needs to heal...someone start a fire!”

“OH GOD.”

“Jungkook, I’m fine, go help them,” you tell him. Jungkook doesn’t believe you are fine at all. Your eye is swollen, your shirt is missing buttons, your neck is bruised and who knows what else he can’t see is bruised. 

“You’re bleeding too?!”

“Oh,” Hoseok winces, clutching his side. “Yeah, it’s not as bad as Taehyung.” Except it does look as bad as Taehyung’s wound. Hoseok's whole left side is covered in blood. You start to cry again, feeling responsible. 

Jin is the one who cauterizes the wounds. Namjoon and Jungkook holds the members down. Hoseoks passes out but Taehyung somehow stays conscious, screaming bloody murder the entire time. It’s going to be another memory that will have you up at night, crying and shaking when you remember his shrieking. This safe house you’re in has a fair amount of supplies and an excessive amount of alcohol. They use it to sanitize the wounds as best they can. 

“You helped us escape. I’m not going to kill you,” Namjoon tells Minho, who sits on the floor, hands duct taped.

“I’m going to kill him!” Jungkook yells.

“No, you won’t,” Namjoon says, calming the youngest down. He turns to Minho. “What do you know about this place? Is there a pharmacy around.” He stays defiantly silent. “Minho!” The leader looks ready to kill, even after his promise not to.

“They won’t be anything left.”

“We have to try, let’s go. Get up!” He yanks the former bodyguard up.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Jungkook says to you. “I’ll look for something for you too,” he says, so softly. You just nod, worried if you were to open your mouth you might start wailing.

Jin is left with Jimin and Yoongi to take care of the two wounded members and you. “I’m so sorry,” you cry, holding onto Taehyung’s hand. 

“This isn’t your fault, don’t blame yourself. You’ve saved me more times than I can remember, I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner,” he winces.

Jimin holds Taehyung’s other hand. “You’re going to get better, don’t worry, and then you’ll have a cool scar.” Jin and Yoongi are tending to Hoseok who thankfully hasn’t woken up from the pain yet. Yoongi brushes the hair out of Hoseok’s face, cleaning up the blood he finds on his skin. He’s meticulous and careful about it. Jin asks you if you want help cleaning the blood off you too. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Let him help you,” Jimin says.

“We can do it later, I don’t want to be…touched right now.” You mumble. 

“Were you-”

“Don’t push her right now, Jin.” Jimin speaks up for you. 

Jimin holds out his free hand to you, letting you take it if you want. You do. He makes you feel grounded and safe. And you feel small and weak and tired at the same time. You lie down next to Taehyung, bringing your knees into your body, you hug yourself into his side, crying.

Jimin mirrors your actions, resting for now. As long as he holds both your hands, and he can keep an eye on both of you, he can allow himself to relax and recover just for the moment.

Seokjin rubs his face, exhausted. Yet his body still feels wound up and anxious, he can’t relax just yet. He works to clean the space of death. He drags the bodies left inside and heaves them over the railing, creating a pile of corpses at the bottom, hoping it will become a deterrent for any other hostile strangers and then works to make food for when you all wake up, doing what he can to help. He tries to remain positive, he tells himself it could have been so much worse. 

“There was no penicillin. Nothing, not even Tylenol.”

You wake up hearing Namjoon’s voice but keep your eyes closed as the men talk. “And Hoseok has a fever,” Yoongi says.

“I’ve searched this place from top to bottom, they have enough liquor to drown a regiment and no damn medicine,” Jin says.

You stand up on shaky legs. “ I know where we might find medicine.”

---

“Maybe they’re not there.”

“No, there’s a code for knocking, I don’t know it.”

“Hey, we know you’re in there. Please open the door. We need your help, please! We’ll give you anything.”

You hear the door click, and you see the weary faces of the group you left. You explain to them the situation, hoping they have some medicine to trade you or at least know where you might find some medicine. “I have something that could help.” The woman who isn’t Jinyoung holds up half a bottle of pills. “This is amoxicillin I found a while ago.”

“We’ll trade you anything for it.”

The woman thinks for a bit and finally decides. “Seokjin.”

“WHAT?!”

“Just for the night.”

“WHAT?!”

“Fine. yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Wait a fucking a minute, no!” Her boyfriend speaks up. “Honey, are you crazy?!” He turns to your group. “You have food, don’t you? Give us that instead.”

“And Seokjin!”

“Have you lost your mind?!”

“Honey, stay out of this?”

“You’re really going to cheat on me?”

“Oh please, don’t act like you have been soo faithful to me! Before our city was attacked you would come home past midnight almost every night!”

“I was with my coworkers!!”

“Yeah, with Eunji, right? That slut you worked with!!”

You turn to Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin while the couple continues to argue, saying “That’s not enough medicine for both of them…”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“There is a house four blocks from here. A pharmacist used to live there. There might the medicine you’re looking for there,” Jinyoung speaks up. “I c-can take you!” She says, her face turning red.

“Okay, Namjoon, you and Yoongi go with her, and I’ll stay here with y/n and…get the other medicine.”

“Seokjin, y-you don’t have to do this,” you say incredulously. Namjoon and Yoongi agree.

“Stop. Yes I do! If this can save them, I will.” Seokjin glares at the three of you, already making up his mind.

Seokjin looks so serious. He looks angry, yet determined. He is putting on a brave face, you want to cry for him. “Jin…” 

“It’s okay, y/n.” He turns to the group. “Yeah, okay, deal. Food and me.” 

“I’ll help you look for the medicine too,” Jinyoung’s boyfriend says, looking over at the idols wearily.

“Hey young lady, I have something for your eye.” The old man says. You sit waiting, once more, in this store, waiting for Namjoon and Yoongi to return, for Jin and that horrible women to be done with whatever she is doing to him upstairs, waiting and hoping Taehyung and Hoseok are okay.

“It’s alright.” You sit with your knees pulled in, much less in the mood to talk than before, sick to your stomach, body aching. The four of you were so beaten and bruised, it’s taken you a couple days to find this place again, what if you get back and it’s already too late?

“I don’t expect anything in return for it, it’s in good faith, I promise you.”

You start to cry, your head buried in your knees.

He sighs, puts his hands on his knees to stand up and moves towards you hesitantly. “Look up for me.” He puts on some antiseptic gel from a tube that looks almost empty, carefully applying the gel to the cuts and bruises around your eye.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“I’m happy to help.”

Waiting for Seokjin to come downstairs feels like an eternity. The boyfriend sits in the corner away from you, completely dejected. You wish you had some kind words to give him, but you have nothing nice left to say, after everything you’ve went through.

Jin enters first, walking silently over to you and sitting down. The distance between you feels so far away. He’s clutching the bottle of pills so tightly the tips of his fingers are red.

You glare at the women when she finally comes downstairs. What the hell is wrong with her? How could she take advantage of the situation like that? How could she use Seokjin like that, what kind of fan is she?!

You move your body slightly so from where she’s sitting, now next to her miserable boyfriend, she can’t see Seokjin. You want to protect him from her. Just thinking about what she could have done to him makes you want to rip out her eyes, makes you think about what was done to you. She deserves the same fate as that man. 

You haven’t looked at Jin. You know if you do, and see his expression, see your own self in his eyes, you might really try to kill her. 

Namjoon and Yoongi come back looking accomplished and put you in hopeful spirits. You say goodbye one last time to the group. You hug Jinyoung, thanking her. Yoongi and Namjoon hug her goodbye too and she turns an even brighter shade of red, smiling happily and clutching a book to her chest, a medicinal plant book she found in the pharmacist's house that she shyly asked the rappers to sign when they were waking back to the store. They happily obliged, grateful because they found just what they were looking for thanks to her.

-

“Have you ever given someone a shot before?” you ask wearily.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jin mumbles. The penicillin bottle has a few doses, so they decide to split it evenly amongst both members. The pills are being saved if they need more medicine.

Jungkook pulls you aside. “They found Tylenol for you and I found this if you need it.” He hands you a few Tylenol and another box of pills. You’ve never seen those Korean characters together. You ask him, “what is it?”

“It’s a pill to take if you, um, if you need it, if so, so they won’t be any pregnancies if you take it,” he stutters.

You nod, taking the Tylenol and pocketing the pills and glancing over to Jin who seems to be diligently looking over Taehyung and Hoseok, a hard frown etched across his face.

“I’m ready for help, if you want to help me. I can ask Namjoon, if you’re not feeling up to it anymore,” you ask Jin. Jin stands up, happy to do something to take his mind off things.

You didn’t want to go into any of the rooms on the top floor, so you and Seokjin walk quietly one flight down.

This office space looks like it used to be full of computers, there’s electrical pieces littered around the floor like someone came and used each one for target practice. You both sit in two beaten up office chairs. “I’ve never bathed myself with alcohol before,” you mutter, bemused. Pulling off your jacket. You notice there’s already bruises forming on your arms. 

Seokjin works to clean off the dried blood from your neck where the knife was pressed. “I’m sorry,” Seokjin says, looking over the bruises.

“I’m sorry too,” you say, trying to catch his eyes, but he won’t look up. “I wish I could take a shower, wash everything away.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees. His eyes start to water, worrying you.

“Do you want a hug?” You ask. He nods. The plastic pieces crunch under your shoes as you move closer, hugging him gently, letting him decide if he wants more. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from yelping when he touches a bruise on your back. He pulls you into his lap. You feel safe and held together in his embrace. And Seokjin feels the chaos inside him finally settling. 

You were both taken advantage of differently, but in that moment it didn’t matter, you both felt the same kind of anger and injustice, for yourselves, and for one another. And in that moment you both just wanted to be held by someone you loved, hoping to erase the touches left by those before. 

You watch Jin break down the door to the break room inside this office. It only takes him three hits with his shoulder. You rush forward, your knife raised, worried you’ll find a monster inside. No monsters, only-“No way.”

“That’s a lot of ramen.”

You and Jin look at each other smiling. There’s enough snacks for days! This discovery might not equal all the pain you’ve both endured, but it was a nice shift, it only takes the slightest push to turn things around. Jin is smiling again now and that is worth celebrating. You make a silent promise to yourself that you’ll bring some to Jinyoung and the old man before leaving Hongcheon. Goodness still needs to be rewarded. Happiness still needs to be celebrated.

---

Looks like Taehyung and Hoseok are in the bottom of the poll. I decided readers will have more input into the story this way. Yoongi seems like a fan favorite (for now) so I hope you enjoyed his relationship progression with y/n, and poor Taehyung and Hoseok, well, I’ll let readers decide, what might happen next chapter? Go vote!

[katnisspeetaprim]

Slice Of Life Part 2

Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Summary: Your relationship with jungkook is going strong, but things don't always go as planned.

Warnings: Established relationship, idol!au, fem!reader, pregnancy, talk of toxic family, swearing.

Word count: 2198 Part1 M.list

2020

Since that first date with Jungkook, things had been going well. You had been together for just about two years at this point, having moved in together after the first year. Even though you were both young, you both knew that this is something you were in for the long haul.

Basically, everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Having a baby at this point in your life was definitely not on your to do list. At 22 you’d think you would know better. You and Jungkook had gotten pretty drunk at the party celebrating the success of their last album, MOTS: Persona, and apparently decided to have unprotected sex.

Now you wouldn’t change it for the world. You were the proud parents of a beautiful 2 year old little girl, but at the time in 2020, things weren’t all sunshine and rainbows...

When you found out you were pregnant, neither of you knew what to do. Only thing you knew for sure was that you wanted to keep it, but Jungkook was having constant panic attacks at the thought that this could cost him his career. You weren’t anybody famous, just a regular store worker, so even though you wanted to sympathize with him, you didn’t suffer that kind of anxiety.

Jungkook’s anxiety got so bad some nights that he would rush to throw up, and then fall asleep on the bathroom floor. His fellow BTS members noticed a change in the young boy. There worry continued to grow every time he would arrive at the studios, obviously completely exhausted. They tried talking to him, but he would always brush off their concerns, insisting that nothing was wrong and that he could take care of himself.

Looking back, Jungkook knows that his panic was unfounded, but he couldn’t help but think the worst at the time.

The very first person he’d told you were pregnant, even before his own parents, was Namjoon. He knew he could trust his leader to put him on the right path.

‘Please say something hyung.’ Jungkook had cornered Namjoon in his studio, knowing they would have privacy here.

‘I’m just in shock honestly. You know you’ve been incredibly foolish right?’ Namjoon stared pointedly at the younger boy, who in turn looked down in shame. ‘Who else knows?’

‘Nobody yet and I know I need to tell the company, but hyung I’m terrified.’ Jungkook buried his face in his hands as the tears freely fell. Namjoon looked on with pity. The maknae had gotten himself into this situation so it was his own responsibility. That said, he would still be there for him as his leader and more impotently, his friend.

‘I’m scared I’m going to loose everything I’ve worked so hard for, and I’m scared I’ll be an awful father...’ he was basically sobbing now, letting his emotions fully overtake him. Namjoon was up in a flash and now sitting next to Jungkook, arm placed across his shoulders to offer some comfort.

‘I can’t say how you’ll be as a parent, that’s all down to you. But you know me and the guys will always be on your side. I’m sure it wont come to this, but if the company tries anything, all of us will refuse to work.’ Namjoon was confident in his statement. If they tried to force Jungkook out, they would all fight it tooth and nail to get their way.

Luckily it didn’t come to that. Namjoon had forced Jungkook to set up a meeting that same day to tell the company, stating that it would be better to do it sooner rather than later.

They were pissed to put it bluntly. Pissed that one of their top idols would be so careless.

‘So what do you plan to do?’ Namh Si-Hyuk stared at him from across the table. Usually, he wouldn’t be the one to lead meetings with his idols, leaving that to their managers, but all things considered, he thought it best to deal with this in person. The man was a lot calmer than Jungkook had expected. Bang PD sighed in disappointment when Jungkook told him that you both wanted to keep it, but nodded along never the less.

‘I think the best thing in this situation would be to keep it as quiet as possible, then a few months before delivery, you go on hiatus for ‘personal reasons’.’ Bang PD nodded to himself as he wrote something down on the notepad in front of him. ‘What does Y/N do for work?’ Jungkook’s head snapped up when the older man revealed his plan. For the whole meeting, his head had been bowed, too embarrassed to meet his seniors gaze.

‘What!? You mean I’m not fired?’ Bang PD looked almost offended at Jungkook’s surprised tone.

‘You really think that low of us here?’ He sighed and shook his head.

‘N-no! It’s just...’ He didn’t know what else to say.

‘Ask Y/N how she would feel working here during her pregnancy. That way it would be much easier to keep things under wraps.’

‘Y-yeah. I’ll do that tonight.’ He had no idea how that conversation would go down. It wasn’t like you particularly liked your job at the convenience store, but still...

‘What? So now I have to be watched by your company!?’ You seethed as you stood over Jungkook, who was doing everything to avoid eye contact. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

‘It’s not like that. They just want to make sure it doesn’t get out yet.’

‘Well tough shit! I have no obligation to your company! Fuck you for even asking me this Jungkook!’ He winced when you cursed at him, sighing as he watched you storm off towards the bedroom. He couldn’t force you to leave your job, but he also didn’t know where to go from there.

It had taken you the whole night to calm down. You didn’t even let Jungkook in the bedroom that night, forcing him to sleep in the stuffy spare room. You understood he was only doing what BigHit had requested of him, so your anger towards him was probably unfounded.

You sat down with him when he returned home the next night, and spoke about what was best for you to do. You knew it could be dangerous for you to continue working at the convenience store if people found out who the father of your baby was, so you reluctantly agreed to accept a position at the company building.

‘I’m nervous Kook, what if I screw up?’ You fidgeted nervously as you walked into the building with him. Jungkook didn’t actually need to be there that day, but he wanted to make sure you got settled properly.

‘Relax, you’ll do great! Plus you’re only an assistant so not much to stress about!’ he reassured you, grabbing your hand and stroking your knuckles. ‘Besides, it’s only until you give birth, so if you hate it that much you don’t have to stay after.’ It had taken you a little while to get used to your new position. Jungkook had lied when he said there wasn’t much stress involved with being an assistant to their managers, but then again, how would he know?

Everybody had been extremely welcoming to you and helped you to settle in. Only a couple of people knew of your situation, so it wasn’t like there was nobody to talk to if need be.

 Years later, you had not only stayed at the company, but raised the ranks and had become a manager for TXT. You’d joined the company not long after their debut, but had known them since you started dating Jungkook pretty much. The boys all loved you, plus you worked well with them so it only made sense for you to be placed with them when you took on a permanent role.

As your pregnancy went on, Jungkook had calmed down somewhat. At least compared to when you first found out. Now it was time to tell other people.

You’d both travelled to Busan to tell his family in person. There reaction was a lot better than you expected in all honesty.

‘I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandma already! Would it have killed you to wait a few years!?’ His mother cried out, whilst pulling the two of you into a tight hug.

‘If you ever need any help, you know where we are, ok?’

Later that night, Jungkook was hold up with his dad and brother, doing god knows what, whilst you and his mom sat in the living room, eating nibbles and drinking tea.

‘So. You can tell me the truth. How has all this been for you?’ she asked with a knowing smile.

‘It’s been stressful I wont lie.’ You absentmindedly rested your hand on top of your stomach. You were about 5 months along at this point.

‘Jungkook was really scared at first. So was I. But we have so many amazing people around us, it was hard to even feel that way after a while.’

‘And how about your parents dear?’ What have they done for you?’ You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked away. You had to tell your family at some point, but you knew the reaction they would have. There attitude was part of the reason you had up and moved across the country without telling them.

Your reaction told  Jungkook’s mom everything she needed to know, so she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

‘You’ll always have us. Please don’t forget that.’

After that visit, you decided that there was no need for your parents to know. The only time they called you was when they wanted money now that your step dad had lost his job, so why would you want that toxicity in your child’s life?

Jungkook was supportive of your decision, having witnessed your family’s anger first hand. Though it wouldn’t be long until they found out...

At around 7 and a half months, the rumours began floating around about the pregnant woman that recently started at the company. Different rumours were surfacing whenever you were pictured with certain idols. Nothing was confirmed however, until you and Jungkook were spotted leaving your apartment one morning. The news exploded that day, causing BigHit to basically go into lockdown for damage control.

‘since you were seen leaving Y/N’s place, we think it would be best to confirm the relationship, to avoid anymore rumours.’ Manager Sejin explained, strong cup of coffee in his hands. Jungkook grasped your hand under the table as you listened intently.

‘Is it still ok for me to work here?’ You asked hesitantly. Sejin shot you a questioning look. ‘Since I was only offered the position to keep the pregnancy quiet.’ Sejin smiled at you and patted your shoulder.

‘You’ll always be welcome here Y/N, if that’s what you want. Right now though, you both need to look over this statement.’

There was a mix of reactions to the announcement. There was some positive, but also a lot of negative, and negative ones always stuck out the most.

People saying that you baby trapped him, that he was too young and you ruined his life, mostly things like that.

Even though they promised that you would always have a job there, Sejin insisted that you take early maternity leave, allowing you to work from home so the situation could blow over. Jungkook had also been placed on leave so he could be with you for the last part of your pregnancy. You felt awful that he had to stop working early because o you, but he reassured you that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

‘Jagi... You know this is something I don’t want to miss.’ He came up behind you and rubbed your stomach. ‘If they didn’t put me on leave, I don’t know when I would be here with you.’ You smiled and spun round in his arms to face him, leaning up to kiss him.

‘I love you.’

When it came time to give birth, considering it was also your first child, everything went as smoothly as it could. You were in labour for about 13 hours, before you finally gave birth.

‘It’s a girl!’ Your exhausted breathing filled the room as your daughter was placed on your bare chest. Jungkook looked on in awe, tears welling up in his eyes, as his fingers ghosted over her head, almost as if he were afraid to touch her.

‘Kook... she’s perfect.’ You stared down at the baby, not quite believing you had helped make her.

‘We should get her cleaned up.’ The nurse scooped her from your grasp. You didn’t want to let her go.

‘Y/N...I can’t believe we’re actually parents now.’ Jungkook pulled you back to reality and you turned your tired head to face him.

Happy tears streamed down his face. He wiped his eyes before standing and hugging you from above.

‘Do we have a name?’ The nurse smiled as she handed your baby back to you. Both Jungkook and you smiled warmly at each other, before looking own at your daughter.

‘So-Hee.’

[hisunshiine]

—cinema | kth

→ posted: jan 1, 2023 → pairing: kim taehyung x reader → genre/au: strangers2lovers, camboy!au, angst, fluff, smut → chapter rating: +18 / M for Mature → wc: 2,672 → warnings: very minor angst is introduced, taehyung is forever hot, misreading a situation, reader is jealous, use of pet names, light sexual punishment and praise, explicit sex, multiple orgasms, begging, if you squint there’s daddy/brattybabygirl vibes, aftercare, recording sex. → credits: biggest thanks to sunkissedwriter, you are the best for the most perfect ‘destroyer of the delulu’ plot issue. @moonleeai @downbad4yoongi​ and whippedbywonho1 for beta reading this for me! → taglist: @bts-ruu @missxmarisa @1-in-abillion @yourtmblrgirlfriend @fairy-jaykay → summary: i guess we’re in time, if you’re getting yourself wet for me. KTH is your favorite camboy, & after winning a contest, the two of you have grown closer and gotten to know each other after a one-on-one session. After realizing you live in the same city, he asks to meet you—IRL.

part 1 | part 2 | series masterlist

“YN…would you be interested in meeting up with me, in real life? I’d love to get to know you more, without a screen in the way.”

You never expected to be gearing up for meeting the camboy of your dreams in person, and it feels silly to you because he’s not a real celebrity, or atleast, not one you can tell your parents about. He’s just a person like you, and yet, he’s been the main star of your fantasies for months now and somehow, he’s also interested in you. 

Or so you think. From the text messages the two of you have been trading back and forth for the past 2 weeks since the one-on-one session you had, not to mention the few times that the two of you used the synced toys while he was camming (not that other subscribers knew he had it paired to you), he’s shown an interest in you that you can’t help but return. 

He promoted the toys at the beginning as a paid advertisement, utilizing them in the storylines, but those sessions were different from the others with the way he behaved during them, with themes of established relationships, with plenty of praise for how tight your pussy was and small slip ups that only you would notice, mentioning things specific to conversations you had with him. 

He would tease the toy he had, knowing you would feel it, and you got him back a few times, clamping down at the end of a session before he removed himself from it, causing him to stutter and almost scold you by name before he caught himself. 

But lately, messages continued to not be solely sexual in nature, with him asking about your career, your likes and dislikes, and it feels like the two of you are actually getting to know each other on a level that can lead to something…more.

Approaching the cafe you planned to meet at, you feel silly to think you’re someone special.

You stare at the messages, unsure of what to say. You agreed to meet up at 5:15, and here it was 5:35 and you can’t bring yourself to walk in. Your feet keep you grounded, eyes focused on the man of your actual dreams sitting at the small table in the cafe. 

You’ve been watching him since you caught sight of him, and as soon as you finished your pep talk, ready to walk in and meet face to face, you see a gorgeous woman approach him as if she knew him, talking and smiling with familiarity as she touched his bicep and he smiled back at her just the same. 

And you wouldn’t have minded, would have walked in there despite this, if he hadn’t motioned to one of the two seats at the table nearest them, asking her to join him. The two of them continued chatting, as if he wasn’t waiting for you for your first date. Maybe it wasn’t a date…after all, neither of you called it one. 

You look down at your new outfit, bought just for today, hating that it wasn’t as cute as the one that girl was wearing. You hate the thoughts that enter your head, you don’t like to think of yourself as someone who dislikes another girl just because the guy you like is interested in them, but it’s hard to stop the green-eyed monster from appearing in your ear, whispering hateful comments that tear both the other girl and your own confidence down.  

Watching the two of them talk, you see the moment he texts you checking in, but a part of you is miffed that it took him 20 minutes to realize you were late. What if you were hurt, attacked, or hit by a car? He would be 19 minutes too late. All because he was distracted by this bitch who can’t keep her hands to herself. 

So instead of walking in and meeting Taehyung for the first time face-to-face, you let the green eyed monster convince you to walk back the way you came, typing out a lame excuse for why you couldn’t make it.

Taehyung stares at his phone, unsure of how to feel. All day he’s been excited, full of restless energy at the thought of meeting you finally, just for you to cancel on him. It doesn’t make any sense to him, because you said you were on your way, and then all of a sudden you couldn’t make it. 

He shakes his black hair out of his eyesight as he looks up from his phone, giving a small smile to the woman who had approached him.

“Looks like my friend isn’t going to make it. It was nice meeting you!” He stands up as the woman nods, smiling widely at him.

“No, thank you! My boyfriend just got here, so thank you for keeping me company until then! That man at the counter was being a real creep, so I appreciate you. Plus, it’s not everyday you meet a local celebrity!”

“Don’t let my mother hear you say that!” he jokes, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he takes his iced frappacino to exit the bustling cafe. 

Pausing at the bus stop near the cafe, you look at your phone to see if Taehyung read your message. 

You hate that he’s so sweet about it. Now that you’ve walked to the bus stop and calmed down a bit from the scene you saw, the negative thoughts have vanished, instead, leaving you with a feeling of self-disappointment. A second buzz from your phone has your heart clenching once more. 

His offer makes you feel like you’ve misread everything earlier. He still wanted to see you. He left the cafe. You feel even dumber sitting at the bus stop knowing you walked away from Taehyung and you were so close to meeting him. You begin to type out a reply. 

“YN?”

You startle, standing up quickly from the bench seating. You find yourself looking up at deep brown eyes staring at you. Taehyung’s face is full of confusion, lips poking out in thought as his full eyebrows pinch together above his narrow nose bridge. In person, this close to him, you almost swoon at how handsome he actually is, and you want nothing more than to soothe the wrinkles of confusion off his face.

“Hi…”

“I thought—you said—I’m confused.”

You worry the corner of your bottom lip between your teeth unsure of what to say.

“I, um…I guess I just got nervous.” It’s not necessarily a lie, though it definitely isn’t the whole truth. The way that Taehyung is looking down into your soul has you feeling that he is aware of this fact. 

“So you showed up to the cafe?” he asks, walking back through the events that just played out. It’s just the two of you at the bus stop, and you can’t bring yourself to move away from how close the two of you are standing. 

“Yes. I was outside for a bit…I was worried about meeting for the first time.” You look down at your feet, unable to maintain eye contact.

“Mmm,” Taehyung nods as if deep in thought. “And let me guess,” a sly grin grows on his face, “you saw me talking to that girl who was waiting for her boyfriend to show up?”

That bit of information snaps your face back up to his like a cracking whip. “Her boyfriend?”

“Yes, she was being hit on by some creep so she approached me to help save her. I sat with her since I was waiting for you, and she left once her boyfriend showed up. Funnily enough, it was seconds after you texted me that you couldn’t meet. If you had waited just one more minute, you might have been brave enough to go inside.”

Feeling stupid, you can’t help the way heat rushes to your face, burning you up with embarrassment. 

“I feel really dumb right now. I’m so sorry I flaked on you.”

“I’m sorry too, I would’ve loved showing you off…you look amazing.”

Your cheeks stay warm, but this time for a different reason.

“You do too, Tae.”

The two of you stand there looking at each other like a couple of fools infatuated with each other before Taehyung has the smart sense to break the silence.

“So, if you aren’t actually busy, did you want to head over to Yoojung Sikdang and grab an early dinner?” 

He holds his large hand out to you, and unable to think of a reason against the idea, you find yourself nodding your head with a sappy grin on your face as you place your hand in his. It felt nice. Giddy with excitement, the two of you head off in the direction of the restaurant with you feeling more and more relaxed the more time you spend in each other’s company.

“Fuck, Taehyung…I can’t…”

“You can baby, you’ve always been so good for me.”

You keen in response, back arching away from his chest where he has you sat between his legs, his calves wrapped around your shins to hold your legs open for him. He’s in just his boxers, chest warm against your shoulder blades as his arms encase you.

“But…it’s so intense!” you moan out, and he chuckles softly.

“Look down baby, look at how wet you are.”

You try hard to keep your eyes open, gaze trailing down his veiny forearms to where his hands are in the apex of your thighs, two fingers on his right hand spreading you open as his left hand holds your bullet vibrator to your clit. The relentless pressure is dizzying as you buck in his arms from stimulation. It feels too good to be legal.

You get a moment of reprieve when he pulls the toy away from you, your slick dripping down to the end before oozing onto the sheets beneath you, clear arousal connecting your bed to the toy in a lewd display of just how wet Taehyung makes you. 

In an act so debaucherous, your eyes can’t help but to follow the movement of the toy as it continues towards the man behind you. You turn your neck to continue the path, watching with hooded desire as Taehyung’s lengthy tongue curls around the small silver vibrator and laps up the rest of the evidence of this session.

The low moan he lets out as he tastes you makes your toes curl, and you’re almost unaware as he shifts from behind you to hover over you. He noses at your neck so you wrap your arms around his torso as his lips lightly drag along your skin, continuing to tease you as he has been for the last half hour. 

“You take your punishment so well, baby.”

Pouting, you look into his eyes, no longer afraid of the man before you.

“I said I was sorry, Tae…I was just a little insecure.” 

He pecks at your bottom lip still poking out in defiance of his taunting touches. You know what he’s waiting for you to do and at this point you’re not above begging.

“Please Taehyung, I need you. I need all of you.”

He smiles, grin lighting up your heart as his lips drop to yours and begin to devour you in a rushed kiss. His hips thrust forward and you can feel how badly he’s been waiting for you to give in. Your punishment was just as hard for him as it was for you. You didn’t know it, but he was seconds away from giving you what you wanted without pleading for it.

It was torture, having you in his arms, so wet and wanton for him as you let him tease your folds until your pussy was swollen in need for release. He had to sit behind you for your punishment, or else he would have given in after five minutes instead of thirty. But it was worth it.

Now you lay beneath him, body pliant as he hitches your leg up by the knee to wrap around his hips. Moving his hand from your knee to the waistband of his boxers, he’s rough as he pulls his length free, four fingers then running along your spread center before giving himself a couple of strokes with the erotic sounds of you coating his cock with each tug filling the room.

“Breathe in for me, baby girl,” he huffs out as his tip teases your entrance, circling around as he waits for you to follow directions. “Good girl.”

You preen under his praise, and when he instructs you to let out your breath slowly, you feel him surging into you, swollen walls pushing back against the intrusion despite how good it feels to become full of him. 

“Tae, it feels so good,” you coo, and he feels goosebumps travel along his arms and his spine from how salacious you sound, his dick growing impossibly harder as he begins to piston his hips, thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drops his face to the crook of your neck. Fingers lacing through the curls at the nape of his neck, you use this for leverage to take him deeper, his hand widening your bent leg for a better angle to bury himself into you.

“Fuck baby, tell me it’s all mine.”

“It’s yours, Tae, all yours.”

“What’s all mine, baby?”

“My pussy, me, whatever you want,” you promise him, and it sends him reeling. You feel so right to him, the way you move with him, as if the two of you were practiced dancers wrapped in each other's arms.  

Your moans are pornagraphic, loud and breathy as he brings you to climax, your limbs trembling from the intensity of the orgasm spurring him on. Unable to stop the way your walls quiver, clenching sporadically around his cock with every stroke leads him to fill you up, cum spurting in hot ropes from his sensitive tip. 

You hold him to your chest as he collapses onto you, his hips still gyrating slowly as he releases every last drop inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, that’s my good girl,” his deep voice speaks to your core, and he peppers kisses to your chest as you cockwarm his softening length.

Slowly, he extracts himself from you, careful not to spill too much onto your sheets, but it was a fool’s errand. Reaching for his phone, he stops recording so he can get up and get a wet washcloth to clean you up. You lay there, spent, enjoying the hazy delirium that comes with the post sex euphoria until you’re as clean as a washcloth can get you and curled up in Taehyung’s arms. 

“I wanna see the video,” you say sleepily, voice muffled against his chest where you lay. His fingers smooth down your hair and he laughs at your request; you were about to pass out, there was no way he would be able to show you the playback of your session without wanting to bury himself inside of you again.

“You will, baby. Get some sleep first.”

“Why?” you whine, despite your eyes having shut several minutes ago in a “long blink”.

“Because you’re gonna need your energy for what happens after we watch it.”

thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!! please let me know what you think of this last part! happy new year!

© hisunshiine 2023. All rights reserved.

[kookslastbutton]

Welcome to my library!

To check out a book, you must be 18+ as my work includes nsfw themes and are not suitable for minors. Secondly, please keep in mind that I write for a diverse audience. OCs within my fics will have minimal physical descriptors. I personally see my OCs as being about 24+ as well, but they are all most definitely 18+.

That said, thank you for stopping by. Please enjoy! 🥰

If you'd like to see older works head over to the archive.

Guide ✒

fluff (🌹) | smut (🔥) | angst (⚡) | favorites (♕)

coming soon...

Drabbles — ✨

End of the Line (M) 🌹🔥⚡//established relationship [1.3k]

"Your relationship with Seokjin hits a bumpy path when he notices you've been spending more time with his friends than him. It's an understatement to say your boyfriend has had enough of it."

Series — 🌙

Those Eyes Chico (M) 🌹🔥⚡♕// slow-burn, coworkers2friends2lovers

"As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?"

series masterlist

enamored (M)🌹🔥⚡♕//strangers2lovers, independent artist au

"Min Yoongi is nothing who you imagined him to be when you saw him preform at the local cafe in town. Yet little by little he surprises you with his true self, until somehow you find yourself completely enamored with him."

one [4.6k] | two | three

Oneshots — ☁

what love feels like (M) 🔥🌹⚡♕//marriage au, parenting [6.7k]

"Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you."

take care of you (M) 🔥🌹⚡♕//established relationship, vacation au [7.5k]

"To keep your fiance' from burning out you suggest a weekend getaway to Gapyeong, a charming town about an hour outside Seoul. You've specifically asked him to leave his work equipment at home but like a deep-rooted habit, he still brings it with him. You're left with no choice but to find a way to get his attention back."

Best Intentions (M) ⚡🔥 //s2l, slight thriller, mafia au [3.4k]

"As vice president, you are obligated to attend your boss's wedding–you're also his friend. But while you should be focused on the newlyweds, you find yourself far too interested in the attractive best man and the woman who happens to be his plus one."

Sidelines (M) ⚡🌹🔥♕// friends2lovers, unrequited love [3.6k]

"Best friends since university, Yoongi has always been the first one rushing to your side. But when you fall into his arms after, yet again, another heartbreak, Yoongi reaches his breaking point."

Still got it (M) 🔥🌹⚡♕ //marriage au, pwp [2.3k] (my first bts fic )

"On your 10th wedding anniversary you decide to voice out some slight marital concerns to your husband Yoongi. You also slip out that you don't think he can get you off given the fact that the last time the two of you got it on was months ago. Yoongi makes you eat your words."

coming soon...

coming soon...

Series — 🌙

Guilty Pleasures (M) ⚡🔥🌹♕//loverstoexesto ?, colleagues2?, unrequited love (not poly)

"Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really."

series masterlist

Reflections (M) 🌹⚡🔥♕// photography au, modeling au, strangers2lovers [11.3k]

"As a new hire at one of the most prestigious jewelry brands in the world; Adrien & Rosamel in Paris, you've been trying to build your professional portfolio for months. So when global brand ambassador Kim Taehyung comes in for a photoshoot but his personal photographer is unavailable, the company offers the gig to you. Oh of course you take it in a heartbeat—it's a given."

Oneshots — ☁

Loverboy 🌹🔥⚡♕//established relationship [7.1k]

"After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about."

Baby Maker (M) 🔥🌹♕// pwp, marriage au [2.4k]

" You're pissed at your husband for being late to your weekly baby-making sessions."

Til Death Do Us Part (M) 🔥🌹⚡♕ //marriage au, pwp [2.3k]

"Thinking it be a romantic gesture, Taehyung tosses your GPS out the car window while honeymooning in Italy. Too bad it gets you both stranded in the middle of nowhere though. What the hell are you gonna do now?"

high tide (M) 🔥🌹⚡//established relationship, pwp [2k]

"Due to Taehyung's job as a cruise ship Captain, you are constantly miles away from each other. Weekly phone calls help and this one gets a little nasty and a lot sweet."

Series — 🌙

Guilty Pleasures (M) ⚡🔥🌹♕//loverstoexesto ?, colleagues2?, unrequited love (not poly)

"Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really."

series masterlist

Too Late To Dream (M) ⚡🌹 🔥 ♕//marriage au, age gap

"You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same."

series masterlist (completed)

Love's Remedy, On Fire 🌹🔥//college au, strangers2lovers

"Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means."

series masterlist (3/4 complete; #4 on hold)

Oneshots — ☁

Can’t Help It, I Love You (M) 🌹🔥♕//established relationship [3k]

"Finally getting a day off, your boyfriend takes you out on a date. Everything is sickeningly sweet until you visit a cute little lingerie store. All he wants to do now is get busy in the dressing room."

prove it to me (M) 🌹🔥♕//one sided enemies2lovers, friend of friend [5.3k]

"I'm not your baby Jungkook. Remember that." Those are the words you say right before jumping into a one night stand with Jeon Jungkook, the man who's constantly annoying you with his college fling stories. You decide maybe just this once, you'll play into his game and prove to everyone that he's no more average than the rest."

in your arms 🌹🔥♕//established relationship, comfort, pwp [1.6k]

"You wake up next to your boyfriend for the first time since moving in with him."

When I Say Forever (M) *requested* 🌹🔥♕// wedding au [4.6k]

"It's your wedding day and the slightly shy yet handsome, doe-eyed stranger who chased after you when you dropped your wallet on the street three years ago just happens to be the man standing before you today." *requested*

Returning the Favor (M) *requested* 🌹🔥⚡//e2l, brothers best friend au [3.9k]

"Your brother's best friend crashes with you for the weekend because he doesn't have room at his place. How delightful for you...especially when you overhear Jungkook telling his buddy over the phone that you couldn't turn him on even if you wanted to—fucking prick. You will not be an object of embarrassment, he will."

Lovin' You Right 🌹🔥♕//neighbors au, inspired by jjk seven, enemies2lovers [2k]

"Your new badass neighbor won't leave you alone. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it."

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: June 2023

I've finally gotten back to reading again, so I wanted to make a monthly rec list of my favorite readings for that given month 🥰 All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post ♥ 

BTS fic rec index → May |💜| Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, personal favorites = 💯. 

⭐The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes 💯 by @oddinary4bts​ // jjk x reader // idol!au + fwb2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

🗨️ It is a long one, but damn is it worth it! It will take you for the very best rollercoaster ride of your life. So if you haven’t read this yet, what are you honestly doing with your life? 

⭐The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes: The First Time (drabble) by @oddinary4bts  // jjk x reader // idol!au + fwb2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Jeon Jungkook is an enigma of galaxies and black holes. When he texts you to hang out late at night, you can’t resist the gravity of him. After all, you’ve always been a sucker for outer space.

🗨️ This is a drabble of their first time together and if you read the parent fic, promise me you won’t sleep on this one! ✨

⭐I want to be with you 💯 by @oddinary4bts  // pjm x reader // idol!au + s2f2l (fan) // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 Moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he’s not the sweet angel you’ve always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

🗨️ This was the first idol!au that I loved (and made me read the others). I adore this and I will read it again sometime 🥰

⭐Beneath the Water 💯 by @jungshookz  // pjm x reader // fantasy!au + mermaid!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck?

🗨️ This is just perfect; a tiny bit angst, gold certified comedy and fluff (with a sprinkle of smut). There’s also a bullet point drabble of this, so please check that out too (here).

⭐Failure to Communicate by @gukslut and @stutterfly​ // pjm x reader // college!au + r2l // 🌩️🥵😂

📝 Could either of you write an enemies to lover story about jimin and y/n set in college where he was her TA and got her kicked out of her major bc he didnt give her the grade she needed and was generally unhelpful?

🗨️ I don’t have much to say, just go read it - it speaks for itself ✨

⭐On Mute by @yoon-kooks​ // jjk x reader // office!au, coworkers!au, fuckboy!gamer!jjk + f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 You always assumed your handsome coworker was down to fuck anyone in the office except for you. He always assumed you weren’t interested in a guy like him. And both of you were content with never admitting your feelings… until he unknowingly confides in you in the realms of a certain tactical FPS game.

🗨️ It’s just so cute and wholesome 🥹

⭐Make Me 💯 by @jikookiekosmos​ // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a bad breakup, you decide to go out one night and drink your sorrows away - that is, until you see your now ex-boyfriend there with someone clinging to his arm. To get your mind off of things, you go back to your job after hours; what you don’t expect is for your boss and CEO of the company, Park Jimin, to show up and offer you help in ways you didn’t know you needed.

🗨️ It has heavy dom/sub themes (which I’m normally not into, but imma switch for this one!). It is incredibly hot and so, so damn perfect 🥵

⭐Pay Attention 💯 by @jikookiekosmos​ // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰

📝 You’d mentioned it in passing once before, your fantasy about blowing your boss - and now boyfriend - under his desk during one of his important CEO business meetings. So what happens when you want to turn that fantasy into a reality, and he wants it just as much?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘Make Me’ (but can be read as a stand-alone) - and it is just pure dirty smut. The dynamic between reader and Jimin is just so good ✨

⭐On Call: part 1 & On Call: part 2 by @yoonjinkooked​ // jjk x reader // s2l + rom-com // 🥵😂

📝 After a catastrophic first date, you end up leaving the hospital angry, tired and date-less. Hoping to have a drink or five, you end up in a nearby bar, sitting next to the same doctor who caught your eye earlier. 

🗨️ Both parts are really, really good!

⭐Shake Shack 💯 by @kth1​ // pjm x reader // s2l (though they went to the same high school) // 🥵🥰

📝 Crushing on a man ever since high school, you failed time and time again to actively talk to him. Until one sweaty summer day, you finally developed the courage to ask him out on a date.

🗨️ The story is so good, perfect amounts of sweet, a bit fluffy and then downright saucy!

⭐A Night at the Mall by @bunnybubae​ // jjk x reader // f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Your best friend Jungkook works as a security guard at the mall and everything takes an interesting twist when you go to visit him during his shift on a friday night.

🗨️ Jungkook is so sweet and funny in this, ahh.

⭐Backtrack 💯 by @mapofthesea​ // myg x pjm x reader // producers!yoonmin, assistant!reader, bi!yoongi // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s no telling just how long you’d been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain.

🗨️ Holy fuck 🥵 I feel like I need to take a very long shower now 🫣🫣🫣 this is probably one of the dirtiest fics I’ve read. It’s so good 🤤

⭐The Forgotten Spaces [completed series] 💯 by @oddinary4bts​ // jjk x reader // college!au, dancer!au + e2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 you’ve been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

🗨️ This is truly a masterpiece! The writing is perfection and the characters have so much soul, dimension, hurt and love. It is exceptional 👏🏾♥️ you just have to read this gem 💎

Thank you so much for going through my recommendations! I hope you find something that you like and show it some love. All of these fics and writers have inspired me to write again, so I'm finally working on my own stuff again (it’s been like 7+ years, yikes 🙈). Hopefully I'll actually finish something this time 😂 but damn it feels good to write again ♥ 

If you should be interested in more BTS fic recs please find more here 😀

[btschooseafic]

BTS-Hybrid au on Tumblr

organizing! I will try and tag all of the hybrid fics I reblog, but I wanted to specially note the fics I might want to re-read, or ongoing fics I want to keep track of

edited 02/11/2023

*completed*

Fix You by casuallyimagining

hybrid!yoongi x reader

reader takes in a stray cat who turns out to be yoongi. also available on ao3!

sequel, Home by casuallyimagining

hybrid!yoongi x human!reader, hybrid!namjoon x hybrid!hoseok, hybrid!jin x hybrid!jungkook

yoongi continues to heal from his past and develop his relationship with you, when he runs into his old pack. also available on ao3!

Somewhere I Can Breathe by myplaceforstories

hybrid!reader x taehyung, ot7 friendship

you go to the country, hoping it will be easier than living as a stray hybrid in the city.

The Little Fox by purpleyoonn

hybrid!reader x ot7, ot7 x ot7, a/b/o dynamics, trauma recovery, lowkey soulmate au

you run away from the bidding house where you were abused, and are taken in by a pack. also available on ao3!

Escape by amazedforjjk

hybrid!reader x hybrid!bts

you and seven other predator hybrid escape the truck that was taking you to your execution

Calico by mygsii

jimin x reader, jungkook x reader

after an incident, you end up taking in cat hybrid jimin. only problem is, you don’t know how to take care of him.

The Treasure Box by worldofblade

hybrid!jimin x human! reader, lowkey soulmate au, co-workers au

when you see everyone treating your new coworker jimin badly just because he’s a raven hybrid, you decide to befriend him

Mother Nature by alternateafterthought

tiger hybrid! hoseok x lioness hybrid! reader, heat, smut, college au

you ask your friend hoseok to help you out during your heat

Inheritance by jincherie

hybrid!yoongi x reader

your grandmother passes away and leaves everything to you, including her cat hybrid. also available on ao3!

Hybrid Games by moviefreaklover

ot7 x reader

you, a famous game designer, adopt seven hybrids

Choco Bun by nunchiimagines

ot7 x reader, kind of coworkers/office romance au, kind of cafe au

you are a rabbit hybrid who opens up a cafe under BTS Corp. no one expects the seven CEO dragon hybrids to take an interest in you

Outro: Love Is Not Over by kiirokero

hybrid!hoseok x human! reader, single parent au, teacher au

you are the single parent of a golden retriever hybrid, yunho. hoseok is his teacher.

Dance To This by hollyhomburg

ot7 x reader, polyam, first part finished, second part ongoing

you are blind and adopt jin to help assist you.

Sugary Sweet by hollyhomburg

hybrid!reader x hybrid!taehyung x hybrid!yoongi x human!namjoon

namjoon is a writer and moves out into the country cause of anxiety

Shelter of Hope by daydream-hobii

ot7 x reader

you and your husband namjoon run a hybrid shelter

A Place Called Home by agustdakasuga

ot7 x reader

you are a vet who tries your best to save hybrids. this extends to your personal life, and the many hybrids you’ve brought home with you

To Build A Home by euphoricfilter

ot7 x reader, 9 tailed fox reader, smut/implied smut

you and jin need to find an owner or a pack before the government takes you.

The Sanctuary series by writersrealmbts [7 parts completed]

Part 1, Safe with Me, seokjin x reader

Also on ao3!

Pack Trials series by writersrealmbts

werewolf au, hybrid au, choose your own adventure (choose which member), other groups available

also on ao3!

*ongoing*

Enchanted To Meet You by ditttiii

hybrid!ot7 x human!reader, soulmate au, idolverse

BTS has supposedly gone on hiatus. Secretly, they are shapeshifters searching for their soulmate--you. also available on ao3!

Eunoia by wishesunderthestars

hybrid!ot7 x human!reader, ot7 x ot7

you are a world famous director who suddenly keeps running into hybrids in need.

Abundance by angelicyoongie

hybrid!ot7 x human!reader, ot7 x ot7

you adopt three different packs of hybrids... who don’t get along. also available on ao3!

Peculiar Pack by daydreamindollie

hybrid!bts x human!reader

you are a hybrid psychologist who finds a hybrid stealing from your garden one night, and decides to take in him and his pack

Sly like a... by youarejesting

hybrid!ot7 x reader

you take in seven hybrid as part of a government experiment. also available on ao3!

Gossamer by aroseforyoongi

hybrid!taehyung x human!reader, dark themes, smut, human experimentation

you are a scientist. your job is to take care of the new hybrid in your lab.

Wabi-sabi by flurrys-creativity

human!taehyung x hybrid!reader

taehyung adopts a blind hybrid.

Sehnsucht by 20moonchild21

hybrid!bts x human! oc

Hope is a newly appointed lawyer who takes in an injured hybrid she finds on the streets.

Stubborn Hugs by eternal-mikrokosmos

hybrid!namjoon x reader, ot7 x ot7, ot7 x reader, smut, mystery

you bring home a koala and bunny hybrid. unfortunately, you and the koala hybrid have some history together. also available on ao3!

Perihelion by jincherie [hiatus]

hoseok x reader, roommates au, college au

you and hoseok accidentally become roommates. neither of you are very happy about it

90 Days by ttaehyungtrashh [hiatus?]

ot7 x reader

you are a cafe owner who has befriended jimin, who lives on the streets. when winter comes, you ask jimin and his pack if they want to come stay with you. despite his reservations, namjoon says yes.

restitution by cloudteawrites

ot7 x reader

you find out that an uncle you never knew existed was the head of a famous law firm. now that your uncle has passed away, he’s left you everything, including seven hybrids he had only recently adopted. also available on ao3!

Home Calls the Heart by anonnie-in-wonderland

ot7 x reader, grief, magic

both you and the boys are grieving when Taehyung brings you home to his pack.

[ugh-yoongi]

Jewel, I know your requests are closed but I desperately need to hear your thoughts on who in BTS would do this: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-prompt-s/739417828719034368/you-a-powerful-demoness-have-just-been-summoned

and why is it Namjoon (the potential for crack with this 148 IQ man who is also way more innocent than we think acc to one park jimin just takes me out)

i'm so sorry it took me so long to finish and post this but thank you so much for sending it bc i have been cackling about this scenario ever since.

the prompt: you, a powerful demoness, have just been summoned to earth. this man, this human, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days so his parents will get off his back about it.

the gang summons a demon

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: supernatural au; crack warnings: reader is a demon and engages in demon behavior, swearing, namjoon makes mention of not being straight, heteronormative parental expectations, jk learns about arcane things on tumblr (which is not an original idea; i read a fic ages ago where taekook are tumblr witches but i cannot find it, so credit to that author or whoever came up with it first), unedited so any mistakes are mine. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 2k

It’s been years since you’ve been to Earth—even longer since you’ve been to South Korea.

“I haven’t been here since 1910,” you say, staring at the gobsmacked man across from you. He’s tall, with tanned skin and a bleached buzz cut; a smattering of tattoos dotting his toned arms—whites and rich hues of blue, imitations of some kind of ceramic art, you think; a golden hoop through his nose; cheeks with dimples so deep you’re sure they’ll crater. “People here definitely didn’t look like you back then, so I’m going to assume we’re pretty far into the future.”

“It’s 2024,” he answers, seemingly still a little dazed. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. Normally it’s nice to be looked at like that, with all the reverence and awe you deserve, but Earth is not your favorite place to be. Doesn’t even crack the top fifty, if you’re being honest. “Did you say 1910? As in the beginning of the—”

You sigh. “Uh-huh. Hey, if you wouldn’t mind hurrying this up, I’ve got things to do.” The man continues staring. Could be a trick of the light, but you think he’s turning paler by the second.

Minutes tick by. Nothing but silence.

“Are you even listening to me?” you snarl, quickly losing patience you were never given. “I said I’ve got shit to do. My schedule’s booked solid for the next eight centuries, so I really don’t have time to be dilly-dallying in mundane human affairs. Your problems are always so boring.”

More silence.

Which is irksome, sure, but what’s worse is this stupid fucking circle you’re trapped in. Drawn crudely on the floor of (seemingly) this human man’s actual apartment, which would’ve told you all you’d needed to know, if you’d taken ten seconds to take in your surroundings upon first being summoned. This place has got books stacked floor to ceiling in every available inch of space, but you’re certain this person is a fucking idiot.

“Hello?”

The man shakes his head. “Oh, sorry, I just—I’m Namjoon? Kim Namjoon.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right, right.” He sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you’re probably wondering why I summoned you here today”—you roll your eyes—“and, uh.” Namjoon scratches at the back of his neck, anxiety oozing from every pore on his body. Definitely paler. “I am too, to be honest.”

“You what—”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon hurriedly adds, all of that anxiety shifting quickly into pure panic. “It’s just—it was a joke! Mostly! Jeongguk said it as a joke, because everything he says is a joke, and I should’ve known that, but—I don’t know! I’ve tried everything else, and the longer its gone on the more desperate I’ve become, and suddenly what Jeongguk said as a joke didn’t sound so much like a joke anymore! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it’d actually work!”

It takes your brain a minute to translate and decipher the useless slush that just came out of his mouth, but when it does… oh, when it does, you feel absolutely murderous. “You summoned me as a joke?”

Namjoon must see it, too. There’s no way you’re looking cool, calm, and collected right now, because you’ve seen the faces of others that have witnessed your wrath, and they were almost always on the brink of (if not outright) shitting their pants. This stupid, clueless human in front of you doesn’t appear to be faring much better.

So you continue, just to watch him squirm. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Yes?”

“And who am I?”

He holds up his pointer finger and digs through the back pocket of his jeans. Pulls out a crumbled scrap of paper, nearly soiled from ass sweat and time, and his eyes squint as he tries to read it. “I—well, it’s probably not an accurate translation, you know, since—”

“What does that piece of parchment say, Kim Namjoon?”

“Nothing,” he lies. “I can’t read it anyway, so… a-haaa…”

Patience officially worn thin, you snap your fingers, delighting in the startled shriek that escapes him as the paper goes up in a plume of smoke. “I am going to give you one chance to be honest with me,” you explain slowly, leveling him with a look. “Who do you think I am, and why am I here?”

Namjoon pales further. Looks like he’s trying to melt right through the floor into a puddle of useless slush, and you’d be more than willing to speed up the process if it weren’t for this god forsaken demon trap.

“Can I—can I sit down for this?”

Kim Namjoon, you learn, has a friend named Jeon Jeongguk.

Jeon Jeongguk, you also come to learn, has learned magic from a website called Tumblr.

“There, uh. There are definitely blogs for that sort of thing,” Namjoon explains, tattooed fingers scratching at the back of his neck. He takes a very quick glance at you. “Clearly not very accurate ones.”

You hum. “That’s the only smart thing I’ve heard you say since I showed up in this shithole.”

Namjoon gawks. “Hey, my apartment isn’t a shithole! It’s the best I could afford, alright? There was just an article in The Business Times about how archaic of a system jeonse is—”

“Uh-huh. And this… website?”

Namjoon goes red. Coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, yeah. I’m gonna be honest with you—”

“I already said that—”

“—my parents are coming to visit from Ilsan in a few days and I need a girlfriend.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. Long enough to replace the rug that had been pulled from under you, because you’re pretty sure you heard this human man allude to having summoned you so you can pretend to be his girlfriend.

All things considered, you’re impressed by how calm you are. This is not a trait most demons have, you especially, and it makes you nostalgic for the days you used to rip men apart limb by limb for less.

“Are you insane?” you ask simply.

“In my defense,” he explains around a wince, “Jeongguk said it was a love spell.”

“A love spell.” Namjoon nods. “And you wound up summoning a demon.”

“It… appears I may have done that, yes.”

“And you want a demon to meet your parents?”

“I mean… when in Rome, right?”

“I’ve committed at least four-hundred and sixty-seven separate atrocities there, so no, probably not when in Rome.”

Namjoon’s jaw drops. He tucks his knees closer to his chest. “Christ, that’s a lot. How did you have the time?”

“I’m immortal,” you deadpan.

“Right, right. Anyway, to answer your question: yes.”

Your eyes narrow. “How bad are your parents that you’d want me to meet them?”

“They’re fine, mostly. I just… am not what they expected in a son? Like, I have the hair and the tattoos and I dropped out of my engineering program in university to pursue art and poetry, so the least I could do is find a wife and settle down and give them grandchildren, but I don’t even know if I want to ever settle down. I’m also not… heterosexual? Entirely? Do you see that a lot—”

You sigh. “Misconception. Not to launch you into some kind of existential crisis, but the gods really don’t give a shit who you humans sleep with.”

“Gods? As in plural?” You snap your fingers. Namjoon’s fingers immediately go to his temples. “Damn, I have a really bad migraine all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, that was me.”

“What’d you do?”

“Made you forget something.”

“Oh. What’d I forget?” It takes a second. “Oh, right, yeah. Um. What was the last thing I said?”

“Your parents wanted you to be an engineer and have a ton of kids but you like art and also not-women, sometimes.”

He flushes again. “I—yes.”

You sigh, arms crossed over your chest. All you want to do is sit down, or open a window. This apartment smells far too strongly of patchouli. “Look, I haven’t been to this place in a long time, but surely you aren’t undesirable by your society’s standards.”

“Are you saying I’m attractive?”

You scowl. “No. I’m saying there had to have been easier ways of doing this, and also can you open a window?”

“It’s February.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It’s really cold outside.”

“I’m literally from Hell. Go put on a sweater, then.”

With a roll of his eyes, Namjoon stands and moves to the window. Cracks it open a millimeter, just enough for the cold to seep in, before he’s stalking off toward—you’re assuming—his bedroom. You think he’s shoving a garment over his head when he calls out, “You know, you’re really fucking bossy for someone stuck in a trap.”

You vow to kill him as soon as you’re free.

It isn’t often you’re held hostage.

Usually you can spot a trick coming a thousand miles away, but since Namjoon hadn’t meant to summon you at all, you’d been caught unawares. Doomed to be stuck in a demon trap, just like he’d said, which meant you didn’t have a ton of bargaining power.

At least that’s what you’re telling yourself, because as you sit across from Namjoon’s parents at some fancy restaurant, you aren’t convinced he isn’t a crossroads demon himself.

“So,” his mother begins, turning her attention to you, “what do you do for work?”

Namjoon elbows you beneath the table, giving you a silent warning to stick to the script. You’re only here under threat of force—because Jeongguk had stopped by Namjoon’s apartment, saw you in the summoning circle, and nearly fainted before going back to Tumblr to find a binding spell.

Except that one wasn’t great, either, because it only bound you and Namjoon together for three days instead of forever. And, as penance for all the chaos you’ve sown across the universe, Namjoon’s parents’ visit fell within that time frame, so here you are.

Out to dinner. With humans.

You’re pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.

You’re in for the most embarrassing ribbing of your existence once you’re home.

“I work with idols,” you respond, as convincingly as possible, because Namjoon had thought it’d be really funny. Get it? he’d said. Like false idols? You hadn’t laughed. “It’s very secretive, of course, but—”

You don’t finish your thought, because Namjoon’s mother looks delighted: face lit up with mirth, smile blinding, eyes half-lidded under the weight of her happiness. “Oh, how exciting! Has he told you he used to do performances to old H.O.T songs? Namjoonie, what was that one song you liked—”

“Eomma, please—”

“Wasn’t it ‘Candy’?” Namjoon’s dad offers from behind his menu. It’s the first thing he’s said all evening.

Namjoon whimpers, foregoing all social decorum and lectures on posture to sink further in his chair.

You do not, under any circumstances, feel a hint of fondness.

(Which dissipates not even twenty-four hours later.

“The blog was deleted,” Jeongguk says, eyes wide as saucers. “I—the blog is gone, I don’t know how to—”

“What do you mean the blog is gone?” The poor kid is overcome with panic and fear, tries to stutter out a response that makes no sense to you at all through his sobs. “Jeon Jeongguk, what do you mean the blog is gone?”

“I—it’s—I had it bookmarked, I swear! Once the binding spell wore off I was gonna send it to Namjoon hyung so he could send you back, but the blog is gone so the post is gone, too. I don’t—what do I even search for—oh my god, please don’t kill me, I think I’m having a panic attack, I’m gonna—”

And then this human man vomits all over your feet. Namjoon sighs as he goes to fetch a bucket, and you think it’ll be a miracle if any of these people—yourself included—live to see the end of the week.)

[jwirecs]

Recommended BTS Fics of October💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of october! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Auburn Skies || @persphonesorchid​​💕💔✅💯💯

↳ Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she’s off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There’s no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time’s passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he’s still a little hopeful. Now you’re here and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. Namjoon’s gonna kill him.

Sharing is Caring || @97erstan​​💕🔄💯💯

↳ Your bestfriend is diligent in his attempts at persuading you to let him move into your house. (i feel like this is going to be a best friends to lovers type of au so its going here)

Match Made In Hell || @ughcore​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ Yoongi truly can’t imagine things getting any worse than the predicament he has found himself in now. Betrothed to a woman he hasn’t met, career on hold and his parents pressuring him into marriage with a sharp stick, ushering him to walk off the plank into the fiery pits of hell that is arranged matrimony with some poor, foolish girl.

No Kisses || @icedmatchatae​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

Pick of the Patch || @taestefully-in-luv​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ You’re a struggling artist with a strong desire to escape so when your mother suddenly calls and asks you to return home to replace her in this years Harvest Festival dance, you never said yes faster. However, she informs you that you’ll be working with another dancer, Kim Taehyung and upon meeting, you decide you do not like him…but right when you think you could grow up and move past it, Taehyung makes it clear that he does not like you either

Whatta Catch || @aredheadedmess​​​💕💔✅💯💯

↳ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

3:27AM || @untaemedqueen​​​🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯💯💯💯

↳ Request: This time a Yoongi one where he wakes up in the middle of the night to his s/o’s phone ringing like crazy so he checks it and sees it’s her ex. So he answers the phone only to prove that she’s taken by having sex with her with her ex on the phone. Can the s/o be overstimulated as well? (i have no words. clearly the amount of 100s says alot)

Quiet & Qualms || @sugafreeagustd-blog​💕✅

↳ Your quiet vacation brings your qualms to the surface.

Drabble: Apple Bobbing || @kithtaehyung​​​​💕✅💯💯💯

↳ apple bobbing at an autumn fair, yoongi looks disgustingly hot all wet (part of the three tangerines series and i just need to take a deep breath cause dam. also i didnt have a fckboy section so its going in this section for the time being)

Confident || @h0neypjm​​​​​ 🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

Pretty Kitty || @sweetheartjeongguk​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ never in his life would taehyung have expected the shy girl from his history class to be the sex kitten on his computer screen. (brb let me take some deep breaths)

Tears Dry || @codebts​​​🔞💔✅

↳ “he walks away, the sun goes down. he takes the day, but i’m grown. and in your grey, in this cool shade, my tears dry on their own.” (authors note said it might be just one part, but who knows)

Touchdown || @flurrys-creativity​​​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Being the club manager of your all inclusive college football team wasn’t always peachy but you loved it nonetheless. Until the new recruits arrived and turned everything you knew upside down. Especially the new star Jeon Jungkook had your mind spiraling

The Deal || @untaemedqueen​​​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ (there wasnt a summary and i suck at making summaries but like read it when you can! plus i swear i’ve read this but you know, it doesnt hurt to read this again)

Forever, We are Young || @taegularities​​​​ 💔✅💯💯

↳ How would you imagine BTS to be in 25 years? Despite the fact that their disbandment happened half an eternity ago, there are still deep issues between the now grown-up men. Meeting after decades again, they know it’s time to settle them once and for all - but certainly not without finding each other all over again as well. (i feel like everyone needs to read this at some point, just to like idk mentally prepare them in some sort of way.)

A Year of Sunshine || @herecomesjoon​​​​💕💔✅💯

↳ You had always talked about being parents, but you didn’t imagine it would happen like this.

An Affair of the Art || @raplinesmoon​​​💕💔✅💯💯

↳ One rainy day looking at art sets off a spiral of events Namjoon can’t control, leaving his heart for the taking (ngl i can actually picture him taking his kid to the museums. like that sht is cute af)

Daisy || @chateautae​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ sleeping with your infuriating, unfairly attractive rival in art school? stupid. sleeping with him without protection? even more stupid. when you became pregnant with kim taehyung’s child at 21, your young lives suddenly derailed for the worst. fulfilling your parental roles early on proved difficult, but five years later, perhaps it was time to give your complicated relationship a second chance; not only for yourselves, but for your baby daughter—daisy.

Lullaby || @herecomesjoon​​​💕✅💯

↳ If Yoongi had his way, and he often did, he would stay up every night to take care of his little girl.

Everything Falls (Into Place) || @blog-name-idk​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Home || @vyduan​​​🔞💕🔄💯💯

↳ Uh, the OT7 supernatural filth but like cozy and middle-aged with a passel of children that no one asked for. Blame Park Jimin’s Folio Teaser (even though he’s not even in the scene) but like fuck him and fuck me. (the “fuck him and fuck me” part of the summary, i feel you. had me cackling, but i feel you)

Little Do You Know || @yoongiofmine​​🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose. (cant wait for s2 of this)

Lost and Found || @flowerfangz​​​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ y/n knew basically living in the woods she was asking for some crazy things to happen but she didn't think the thing to happen would be two hybrids at her door asking for help in the middle of the night while one is injured. (expect a few ongoing fics from this author on this months fic recs cause LORD HAVE MERCY)

The Freak || @flowerfangz​​​​​​💕💔🔄

↳ having been in the fighting ring for years, the night started like any other one but you haven't met a hybrid like him, someone made so different like you. You expected the fight to go like any other but who knew the orange eyed man was your get away?

To Be Loved || @flowerfangz​​​​​​ 🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ after presenting late, your parents were embarrassed by you. In hopes of saving their image they arrange for you to be married to their friend's son, who turns out to make your life hell for years until you can't take it anymore. You'd rather die trying to get away then die not trying at all. As you run under the blue moon you can't help but wonder what is it like to be loved?

Coffee || @crownjimin​​💕💔✅💯💯

↳ the enemies to lovers social media au where min yoongi refuses to date a cheerleader, but yoon haryun might be able to change that.

The Comforts of Creatures || @interesting-interludes​​​​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ you’re a prisoner here, but you can’t remember why. you can’t remember much of anything. not where you came from, not who you are, not even what you are. what happens when a pack of terrifying monsters breaks into the facility where you’re being held. not to kill you, but to…protect you?

Caught in the Crossfire || @taleasnewastime​​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Taehyung kills people, he isn’t ashamed to admit it (though it’s not something he shouts about). To date he has never found a reason that someone didn’t deserve to die. That the person hadn’t committed some hideous act. That the world wouldn’t be a better place without them in it. But that was before he got sent your information. (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.)

Crimson || @btsstan12​​​💕✅💯💯💯

↳ The time when the wind changes and you can feel poetry in the air is autumn. Autumn is also called fall. This time, maybe literally for Namjoon as he falls for the girl with her nose buried in a book. He navigates his small crush on her with crimson cheeks, crunch of leaves and the changing winds. (i am soft, this is so soft)

Fool for You || @btsgotjams27​​​💕💔🔄

↳ When Jungkook is finally single, you shoot your shot.

Make an Offer || @bangtanintotheroom​​🔞✅

↳ Money in exchange for companionship and fucking? It was an arrangement that you were comfortably taking part in with your current sugar daddy. But when you lock eyes with a stranger during a night out, you’re approached with an offer that could shake things up.  

Bad and Sweet Trilogy || @helenazbmrskai​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ (no summary, three different one shots. i love)

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **