#bts hurt

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 13.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.

The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.

You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.

You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.

Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.

You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.

You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.

He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.

Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.

You can’t.

You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.

It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.

You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.

We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.

Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.

You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.

“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.

The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.

Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-

“D-O-N-T”

His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.

“N-O”

You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.

“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:

“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”

Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”

Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.

“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.

You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.

You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.

The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-

“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”

As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.

Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.

You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.

His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.

He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.

It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.

Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.

Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.

Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?

You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.

Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.

Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).

Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.

Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.

You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.

Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.

A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.

The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.

"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"

"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."

"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."

Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.

“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.

Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.

No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.

Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.

(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)

The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.

You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.

Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.

Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?

You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.

You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.

Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.

“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”

It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.

But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.

He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.

He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.

“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.

“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”

It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.

At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.

You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.

When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.

You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.

Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.

You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.

You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-

Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.

Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.

If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give? 

You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage. 

It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.

Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too. 

Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"

Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.

You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring. 

Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway. 

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep. 

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air. 

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask.

Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.

Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?” 

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?” 

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child. 

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but- 

Namjoon would be a good father. 

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach. 

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button. 

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you. 

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in). 

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty. 

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”

Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image. 

“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.

A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.

After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.

(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.

Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.

Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.

Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).

But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.

“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.

You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.

“That would be so nice Joonie."

You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.

“I really need to get a glass of water.”

Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.

“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.

You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.

“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.

The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.

Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.

Thump.

“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.

“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.

Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.

Thump

The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.

Thump

Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.

Thump, breath, thud.

Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.

Thud.

The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.

Thud

Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.

Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.

The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.

He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"

Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.

Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"

Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”

There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.

Could he catch up if he started running now?

It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”

Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”

"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”

“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.

Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."

Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”

Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.

“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.

“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”

The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”

Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”

Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"

“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.

Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”

“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”

“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”

“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.

“Hobi?”

But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-

The train ticket is gone.

Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.

I’m sorry, I love you.

You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.

This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-

Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.

The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.

“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.

The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.

“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”

The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.

Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.

The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.

“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.

If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.

Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.

Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.

With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.

At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.

“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.

“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.

“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.

Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.

Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.

Thud.

“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”

Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.

He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“What?"

Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."

Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”

The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.

Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.

"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."

"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.

Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”

Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?

Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.

“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”

Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.

"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.

“It could be the same name.”

Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.

“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”

Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.

Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.

Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.

Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"

“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”

Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.

“I did. She’s an omega.”

The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-

Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.

“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.

Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.

Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.

Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.

If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.

If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.

A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.

How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-

Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”

“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.

Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”

Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.

Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”

Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.

“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”

“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”

Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.

“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”

“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.

"No- you can't-"

“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”

Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.

Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.

All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.

Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.

“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”

You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.

“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.

“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”

You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.

“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”

Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.

It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.

Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”

Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).

Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.

“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”

You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.

“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”

Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.

“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”

Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.

“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”

Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”

Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.

“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”

Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.

“They let them rest and gave them some food.”

Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.

“Cuddled them a little.”

Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.

“And when they put them back in,”

Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.

“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”

His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?

You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.

“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”

He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.

His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.

One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.

Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.

The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.

Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.

Namjoon cries.

Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.

Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.

“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.

Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.

Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.

“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.

“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.

“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.

“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“

Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”

“-if you see something say something.”

The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”

“Yoongi- Just go!”

There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.

They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.

Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.

Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.

He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.

Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.

They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.

By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.

In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog! Every bit of encouragement helps me write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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~-~

Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.

this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.

I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.

when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.

the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.

Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"

the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.

the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~

i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~

i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.

how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?

[skunkes]

[kth1fics]

I Won't Hurt You (M) | MYG

I Won't Hurt You

● Pairing: Ghostface!Yoongi x Female Reader ● Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ● Tropes: scream au, pwp, established relationship, slight angst ● WC: 1.7k ● Warnings: party vibes, dark-themes (murder), weapon mention(knife), mentions of blood, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, does it make sense? No. does it have to? No, etc ● Beta: n/a (i don’t talk to anyone so i have no betas) ● Summary: You find out that your boyfriend is Ghost Face, but he doesn't want to hurt you. ● Author’s Note: Who would have spontaneous sex with their boyfriend after they unalived someone? This fic is completely out of the blue and I love the Scream franchise! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ● Song Recommendation: To The Stage by Asking Alexandria

Masterlist �� Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

All night, you have been looking for your boyfriend in Namjoon’s house. What started out as a bopping Halloween party soon turned into a ghost town. Even when the place was filled with bodies and costumes it was hard to find Yoongi. Now, you can’t even find a single soul.

It isn’t until you quietly crept up the staircase towards the hallway do you finally find someone.

A shadowed figure crosses through the light in a room. You hesitantly peer into the doorway to see someone wearing a full ghost face costume, looming over the bloody body of Namjoon. The figure swipes the blood clean from a bowie knife as they stare down at his lifeless body.

The scream lodged in your throat doesn’t surface as your hand covers your mouth. You slowly back away from the door but fate has other plans for you as the wooden stair creaks from the weight of your step.

Nerve endings on high alert, you watch as if in slow motion while the stranger turns their head and acknowledges you. Your voice comes forward in a scream as you begin down the stairs, feet stepping as fast as possible while the stranger is fast on your trail.

The heavy push of their body tackles you like a linebacker hitting a quarterback. Swiftly landing you to the ground and pinning you to the floor.

Helplessly you yelp, “Stop! Please, no!”

The ghost face keeps you beneath him as their clothed hand covers your mouth. They pull off their mask and reveal themselves to you, leaving you undoubtedly stunned. It’s your boyfriend, Yoongi.

“I’m going to remove my hand,” he warns with a warm tone. “Please don’t scream.”

Yoongi is straddling your hips as his body keeps you from moving around. He watches the way your eyes shift into fearful tears as he drops his mask to the side.

You nod slowly and Yoongi takes his time pulling away from you. He stands towering over your terrified state with the knife still in his hand. Yoongi waits for you patiently to sit up as you stare at him.

Traces of blood stain the front of your cowgirl costume, transferred from Yoongi’s costume. You were wearing a matching set with Yoongi when you arrived tonight, but the man you look up to now looks completely different from what you remember.

His black hair is disheveled across his face with traces of sweat gathering at his temples. He’s partially out of breath and covered in a stark black gown. There’s a wild, puzzled look to his eyes as he leers down at you.

Fear runs through you forcing yourself to uncontrollably tear up. You can’t run, he’s proven that to you already. You’re stuck right here in front of a murderer. He leans down and tries to console you with a hug but your arms shoot out and reject him.

“Y/n, baby, please –” he hushes, “Don’t cry! It’s okay, I won’t hurt you!” Yoongi’s voice is as soft as he can possibly make it. His hand comes to brush aside a portion of your hair while he continues to speak, “Baby, let me see your face. I can explain.”

Gently, Yoongi manages to pull your arms toward him as he cradles your cheek with his hand. You feel the smooth gloved thumb run across your skin and wipe away the running tears. 

You look at him in disbelief as he holds onto you. There’s still the sweet, beautiful, caring man before you. The one you know all too well. His warm eyes remind you of the Yoongi you love, the man you put your full trust into.

“W-why?” Your voice breaks with emotion.

The question could be meant for a multitude of reasons, but he knows exactly which question you are asking. And for an answer he cannot explain simply. 

Yoongi stalls momentarily, his mouth hanging open for a split second before closing. He pulls you into a tight hug, “You weren’t supposed to stay here.” Your body stiffens immensely as you feel Yoongi’s arms around you. His chest beats against yours, both your hearts racing erratically. “Jenna was supposed to take you home,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find you!” You hiccup with pain in your voice.

His warmth allows your body to relax against his. Your panic allows you to hold onto him tightly as your body shakes with adrenaline. It feels as if your heart is shattering within you as reality settles.

Yoongi pulls away from you so he can look into your glossy eyes as you weep with sadness. His fingers lightly grip your chin and force you to face him. “Baby, I love you. I’ll never ever hurt you, I promise!” He kisses your lips tenderly before pulling you closer.

“I’m so sorry you are in the middle of this,” he murmurs as he kisses you again. “You weren’t supposed to see this stuff. I was trying to protect you.”

Yoongi’s lips follow the length of your neck, leaving warm kisses on your skin as his hands roam your body. He places his bowie knife to the side, away from the two of you while he continues to let his apologies leave his lips. 

You allow Yoongi to lay you down on the hardwood floor. He maneuvers to your chest, using his fingers to pull down your cowgirl top and bra enough to release a nipple. His lips attach to your sensitive bud, using his tongue to flick across the fleshy piece until it hardens. Yoongi’s body slots comfortably between your legs as he slithers down your front. He disposes himself of a glove, freeing his digits from the leather fabric just before reaching the hem of your skirt.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips mutter against your lower stomach. His bare fingertips dance along the inside of your thighs while they descend closer to your core, “I love you so much.”

Yoongi looks up at you for confirmation before he continues forward. You nod slowly, reassuringly, for him to know you trust him. Quickly, Yoongi’s face buries and disappears in between your legs. His fingers pull aside whatever panties that are in his way and licks a solid strip up your folds before sliding two of his deft fingers inside of you.

You clench at the sudden intrusion, but it’s a welcoming presence nonetheless. Involuntarily your legs squeeze the sides of his head, hands shooting down to grip the raven black locks atop his head as a lewd moan leaks from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you curse as the back of your head thuds against the floor below you. You tug hard on his hair as your hips buck into his face.

Yoongi frantically picks up the pace with his fingers as his tongue swivels around your clit, lathering the nub with his saliva as he presses knuckles deep into your walls. He leans up from you abruptly, fingers still running a ‘come-hither’ motion inside of you as his parted mouth glistens. 

Yoongi fumbles with his belt underneath the ghost face cloak before pulling the blasted cloth off of him, revealing the same cowboy outfit that you match with. He slides back on to you, fingers pulling out of you quickly to shove down his jeans and boxers past his hips to free his hardened cock.

You feel yourself dripping the moment Yoongi removes his fingers. He uses your essence off his fingers and lathers it along his cock before giving it a quick few tugs. Yoongi’s desperate when lining himself up with your entrance, being mindful to pull your panties as far to the side as possible. The moment his cockhead kisses your hole he leans down to connect his mouth to yours.

He pushes into you completely, forcing the two of you to let out a sudden and satisfied moan. Yoongi lifts your leg up to allow a deeper penetration, thrusting slow and deep as he bends you to his will.

“You feel so good, baby –” he hums as his head nuzzles into your neck. 

Your fingers curl on his clothes, leaving small scratch marks through the material. 

“H-Hold on to me…” Yoongi picks his pace up fast. His hips snap into your body, pulling his cock all the way out just to dive it right back in at full force. The lewd sounds of skin slapping skin struck his ears, your beautiful whines mixed with pleasure fuels his ego. He craves more with every single thrust he puts into you, gradually fucking you harder and faster until your body is shifting across the hardwood flooring.

“Y-yoongi, I’m gonna –” A broken moan interrupts you when his teeth latch onto your neck, leaving a harsh mark that undoubtedly will become a bruise. Your body jolts in his grasp while your eyes screw shut. 

“Cum for me,” Yoongi’s voice is laced with lust, a small smile tugging at his lips as he feverishly piles his cock into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he grunts between his words, every thrust stronger than the last. It helps build your orgasm up to the very brim before it snaps, “Cum for me baby, I love you.”

You can’t form a full sentence as his thrusts become more desperate, reverting to you chanting the word ‘yes’ like a mantra as your sweaty body jolts underneath Yoongi’s weight. Your moans grow louder, the heightened sensation in your lower region breaks as your climax washes over you in an exciting rush. Yoongi’s hips began to slam into you. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice grip, the flexing muscles spasm inside you squeeze him so tightly it leaves Yoongi gasping.

He groans loudly as he pulls out just in time and comes hot white ropes on top of your panties. Yoongi slowly rocks his hips against your body as his high dies down, his mouth leaving open kisses across your neck until he reaches your mouth. 

“Baby,” he huffs. “Look at me.”

You turn to see the mirth in Yoongi’s eyes. Both of you lay there with spinning heads, breath labored, and bodies cooling off.

“I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he sighs. “I’ll never hurt you.”

© 2024 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[jkvjimin]

feels like a fever dream 😩 cr. namuspromised

[keehomania]

nevertheless (알고있지만) – jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

attachment was a curious thing. it began subtly, weaving its tendrils through the fabric of your life without notice, like the first soft blush of dawn on a still, sleepy horizon. at first, it seemed innocuous, a delicate thread that merely tugged gently at the edges of your existence, a whisper of a presence that was easily overlooked.

yet, in its essence, attachment was a powerful force, beautiful and treacherous. it painted the world in vivid hues, each moment tinged with a significance that it otherwise wouldn't have possessed. the simplest actions—a smile, a touch, a shared silence—became imbued with profound meaning. your heart swelled, enraptured by the beauty of connection, and your soul reveled in the comfort of knowing and being known.

as the days passed, those gentle threads of attachment intertwined, forming an intricate tapestry. each shared experience, each memory, added a new thread, strengthening the bond and deepening the sense of unity. it was a masterpiece of human emotion, a testament to the power of connection that filled your heart with warmth and light. the world felt richer, more vibrant, as if seen through a lens that sharpened every detail and amplified every sensation. but attachment, for all its beauty, carried a darker undertone. like a vine creeping up the side of a grand old mansion, it began to strangle, its grip tightening imperceptibly. what was once a source of joy and comfort transformed into a source of anxiety and fear. the delicate balance between freedom and dependence tipped, and your heart, once light and free, grew heavy with the weight of expectation and longing.

In this duality lay the true peril of attachment. It was a slow, insidious poison, sweet in its initial taste but deadly as it coursed through your veins. The same connection that brought life and color could, in an instant, become a noose, choking the very essence of the self. Your mind became consumed with thoughts of the other, every moment apart a silent torment, every slight perceived as a dagger to the heart.

you loved attachment. you loved love. the depth of your emotions was a wellspring of inspiration, each feeling a stroke of color, a line in a sketch, a form in a block of clay. you embraced your emotions, delving into their depths because they breathed life into your art. sculpting and painting were your lifelines, your way of interpreting the world and expressing the inexpressible. you found beauty in every raw edge, every shade of shadow and light, every curve and angle that made up the diverse tapestry of art. art was your sanctuary, a realm where diversity reigned supreme. each piece, whether a painting or a sculpture, told a unique story, resonated with a distinct voice. you loved the freedom it granted, the way it allowed you to channel your deepest feelings into something tangible, something that could be seen and touched. the fluidity of art mirrored the fluidity of your emotions, capturing the fleeting, the ephemeral, and the eternal in one breathtaking sweep.

what you didn't love, was attending your boyfriend's opening art show to show your support, only to find yourself standing in front of what he deemed his masterpiece. the centerpiece of the entire exhibit was a sculpture of you, rendered in painstaking detail, nude, in a scandalous position. the marble gleamed under the gallery lights, every curve and line of your body exposed for the world to see. jackson saw it as a pinnacle of his artistic achievement, a celebration of your form and your intimacy. he looked at it with pride, his eyes shining with the fervor of creation. but to you, it was a betrayal, a public humiliation. every whisper, every gaze, felt like a thousand needles piercing your skin, stripping away your dignity layer by layer. the room seemed to close in on you, the walls pressing inward as the weight of judgment and exposure crushed your spirit.

you couldn't breathe. the air was thick, suffocating, filled with the murmurs of the onlookers and the indifferent hum of the gallery. your chest tightened, panic rising as your eyes darted around for an escape. you felt the sting of tears, hot and unforgiving, blurring your vision. without thinking, you turned and ran, the murmurs growing louder, more accusing, as you fled the gallery. you ran until your legs burned, until your breath came in ragged gasps, until the noise and the lights of the gallery were far behind you. you stumbled onto a set of stairs, collapsing onto them, your strength spent. the world around you faded into a blur, and you buried your face in your hands, the sobs wracking your body.

the cold stone of the steps pressed against your skin, grounding you in the midst of your turmoil. you cried for the trust that had been broken, for the exposure you hadn't asked for, for the art that had turned against you. you had loved attachment, had loved love, had embraced every emotion because it allowed you to create. but in that moment, it felt like those very emotions were tearing you apart, leaving you raw and vulnerable, exposed to the harsh judgment of the world.

your tears flowed freely, each one a testament to the pain and the betrayal you felt. the love you had cherished, the attachment you had valued, seemed like cruel mockeries, twisting the knife deeper into your heart. you had poured your soul into your art, into your relationship, only to have it thrown back at you in the most brutal of ways. and so you cried, the steps becoming your sanctuary, the darkness of the night offering a cold, indifferent comfort as you wept for the love and the attachment that had led you to this moment of utter despair.

jackson trailed behind you, the sound of his footsteps echoing against the cold night air. when he found you on the steps, crumpled and broken, he paused, his silhouette stark against the dim streetlights. for a moment, he simply watched, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of you crying, your body wracked with sobs. the indifference in his gaze was chilling, a sharp contrast to the tenderness you had once believed existed between you.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “causing a scene like that in the middle of my show?” you looked up, your face streaked with tears, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “you humiliated me,” you choked out, your voice trembling. “you’ve shit all over my reputation.”

his eyes flashed with anger and disdain. “you have no idea what art is,” he spat. “you’re clueless. that sculpture was a masterpiece, a celebration of you, and you just made a fool of yourself and me.” his words struck you like physical blows, each one harder than the last. you struggled to find your voice, to make him understand the depth of your hurt. “it wasn’t art,” you whispered. “it was a betrayal. you exposed me to everyone, without my consent, without even thinking about how i would feel.”

he scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. “you’re overreacting. you always do. that piece was about beauty, about vulnerability. you’re just too blind to see it.”

with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone on the steps, your tears flowing freely once more. the echo of his footsteps faded into the night, leaving a void where his presence had been. you felt as if the ground had opened up beneath you, swallowing you in a chasm of despair and betrayal. you knew what art was. art was your lifeblood, your passion, your way of making sense of the world. you understood its power, its ability to evoke emotions and provoke thought. nevertheless, in that moment, you realized you had forgotten what love was. love wasn’t supposed to feel like that. it wasn’t supposed to leave you feeling exposed and vulnerable, abandoned and broken.

the steps were cold and unforgiving beneath you, a cruel reminder of the harsh reality you found yourself in. the night pressed in around you, its silence a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your heart. you had loved him, had believed in the connection you shared, but now it felt like a cruel joke, a painful illusion. you sat there, your face buried in your hands, trying to piece together the fragments of your shattered heart. the art you had loved, the emotions you had cherished, all seemed tainted now, twisted by the betrayal you had experienced. you had thought you understood love, had believed in its beauty and its power, but now it felt like a distant memory, something you couldn’t quite grasp.

and so you cried, the tears falling silently as you tried to make sense of the pain, the betrayal, the loss. you cried for the love that had turned into a weapon, for the art that had been twisted into something cruel. you cried for the trust that had been broken, and for the heart that had been shattered. in the quiet of the night, you felt the weight of your emotions, their depth and their intensity. you had loved deeply, had felt every emotion with a fervor that fueled your art. but in that moment, on those cold steps, you felt the sharp sting of love’s betrayal, and the emptiness it left behind.

the night wore on, the stars glittering coldly above, indifferent to your pain. and as you sat there, alone and broken, you realized that while you understood art, you had forgotten what love truly was. it wasn’t the grand gestures or the passionate declarations. it was the quiet moments of understanding, the gentle touch of reassurance, the unspoken bond that held two hearts together. you had forgotten that love was supposed to heal, not hurt. it was supposed to uplift, not tear down. and in that moment, you vowed to remember, to never let anyone make you forget again. the tears continued to fall, but beneath them, a resolve began to form, a determination to reclaim the love and the art that were rightfully yours, to find the strength to rise from the ashes of your heartbreak and create anew.

the club was a throbbing pulse of music and light, a sanctuary for those seeking to drown their sorrows or celebrate fleeting moments of joy. you found yourself there, the need to escape the pain and humiliation driving you to its neon embrace. the air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and anticipation, each beat of the music resonating through your body like a heartbeat. you made your way to the bar, ordering a drink to numb the ache in your chest. the liquid was a fiery solace, burning down your throat and spreading warmth through your veins. one drink turned into another, and another, as you tried to drink the night away, to forget the betrayal, the hurt, the sculpture that had stripped you bare in more ways than one.

but as the air grew tighter and the room spun slightly with the haze of alcohol, you felt the need for a moment of clarity, of fresh air. you stepped outside, the cool night air a contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the club. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a box of cigarettes, your fingers fumbling as you searched for your lighter. It was gone, lost in the chaos of the night.

“fuck,” you muttered quietly, frustration boiling over. as you looked up, you saw a man standing nearby, a smile playing on his lips as he flicked his lighter open. the small flame danced in the darkness, casting a warm glow on his face. “need a light?” he asked, his voice smooth and warm, like a balm to your frayed nerves.

you nodded, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “yeah, thanks.” he stepped closer, the flame catching the tip of your cigarette. you inhaled deeply, the smoke curling into your lungs and bringing a strange sense of calm. as you exhaled, he cracked a joke, something about fate bringing a cigarette and a lighter together. you laughed, the sound surprising you with its lightness.

he lit his own cigarette, taking a drag as he turned slightly, giving you a glimpse of the tattoo on the back of his neck—a butterfly, delicate and intricate, its wings poised as if ready to take flight. “that’s a beautiful tattoo,” you said, your eyes tracing the lines of the butterfly. he glanced back at you, a faint smile touching his lips. “thanks. i like butterflies. got a few of them at home.”

“they’re beautiful,” you admitted, the honesty in your voice surprising even you. “especially monarch butterflies. there’s something about them that’s just mesmerizing.” he didn’t respond immediately, instead reaching into his pocket and pulling out a marker. taking your hand gently, he began to draw, the marker’s tip gliding over your skin. when he finished, he held up your wrist, showing you the butterfly he had drawn there—a monarch, its wings spread wide in a silent declaration of beauty and freedom.

“now you have a butterfly of your own,” he said, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of warmth. “to remind you of their beauty.”

you looked at the butterfly on your wrist, a smile forming on your lips. it was a small gesture, but it held a world of meaning, a moment of connection that pierced through the haze of pain and alcohol. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the city’s distant hum. he nodded, a silent smile on his face, before turning and walking back into the club, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the butterfly on your wrist. the night seemed a little less dark, the weight of your emotions a little lighter.

as you stood there, the cigarette burning slowly between your fingers, you felt a glimmer of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, beauty could still be found. the butterfly was a symbol, a promise that you could find your way back to the love and the art that had always been your sanctuary. you took another drag of your cigarette, the smoke swirling around you like a protective veil. the club’s music thumped in the background, a distant reminder of the chaos you had escaped. but in this moment, with the butterfly on your wrist and the memory of a stranger’s kindness, you felt a small but significant shift within you.

the next day, you found solace in the familiar embrace of your studio. the room was filled with the quiet hum of creativity, the soft scraping of tools against clay, the muted whispers of students deep in their work. your hands moved deftly over the surface of your sculpture, the tactile sensation of the material grounding you, offering a brief respite from the emotional turmoil that still lingered from the night before. your fingers traced the curves and lines, each motion a silent meditation, an attempt to channel the chaos inside you into something tangible, something beautiful. the sculpture began to take shape, a reflection of your innermost thoughts and feelings, an expression of the vulnerability and strength that intertwined within you.

as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your work, the studio door creaked open, and your friend poked her head in. jihyo was a vibrant presence, her energy infectious, and her smile always managing to brighten the darkest of days. “hey, you,” she called, waving you over. “let's step out for a smoke. you look like you need a break.”

you hesitated, your hands still covered in clay, but her insistence was hard to resist. with a sigh, you wiped your hands and followed her out, the studio door closing softly behind you. the fresh air was a welcome change, and the courtyard was quiet, a peaceful oasis amidst the bustling campus. jihyo handed you a cigarette, and you lit it, the familiar act bringing a semblance of calm. she leaned against the wall, her eyes narrowing as she studied you. “alright, spill it. what’s bugging you?”

you took a drag of your cigarette, the smoke curling around you. “jackson and i broke up,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. her eyes widened in surprise. “what? when? what happened?”

you recounted the events of the previous night, the betrayal and humiliation still raw in your mind. as you spoke, her expression shifted from shock to anger.

“he did what?” she exclaimed, her voice rising. “that sick son of a bitch, how could he think that was okay?” you shrugged, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “he called it art. i called it betrayal. we saw things differently.”

jihyo shook her head, her anger palpable. “you deserve so much better than that. he had no right to expose you like that.” as she spoke, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the man from the previous night. he was walking by, his posture relaxed, but his eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the recognition in his gaze mirrored your own, a silent acknowledgment of the shared moment you had experienced.

he seemed as shocked as you were, but he recovered quickly, a smile tugging at his lips. you couldn’t help but smile back, the memory of his kindness a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil. “hey, jihyo,” you said, nudging her gently and nodding in his direction. “do you know who that is?”

she followed your gaze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of him. “oh, that’s jeon jungkook. he works in the building department. total slut, though. you should keep your distance.” her words were blunt, her tone dismissive, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of curiosity. jungkook glanced back at you once more before continuing on his way, the smile still lingering on his face. you watched him go, the memory of his smile and the butterfly he had drawn on your wrist vivid in your mind.

you nodded absently, still watching him from a distance. “yeah, sure. i’ll keep that in mind.” as the two of you finished your cigarettes and headed back to the studio, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was different from the way jihyo described him. there was a gentleness in his eyes, a quiet kindness that intrigued you. you didn’t know what the future held, but for now, the memory of his smile and the butterfly on your wrist gave you a small glimmer of hope, a reminder that beauty and kindness could still be found, even in the most unexpected places.

back in the studio, you lost yourself once more in the clay, the rhythm of your movements a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. each touch, each stroke of your tools, was an act of creation, a way to channel the tumult of emotions into something tangible. the world outside the studio faded away, leaving only the quiet hum of creativity and the comforting solidity of your sculpture.

the creak of the door barely registered in your focused state. it wasn’t until you sensed a presence directly in front of you that you looked up, your hands pausing mid-motion. there he was, jeon jungkook, the man from the night before, sitting casually on a stool, his eyes bright with curiosity and amusement. he smiled, a warm, easy smile that seemed to light up the room. “you work with such intensity,” he remarked, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. “it’s really impressive.”

“thanks,” you replied, your mind flashing back to jihyo’s warning about him. you tried to keep your expression neutral, though his unexpected presence had thrown you off balance.

his gaze drifted to your wrist, where the butterfly he had drawn still lingered. “the butterfly is still there,” he noted with a hint of satisfaction. you looked down at the delicate sketch, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, seems like she likes it there.”

“she does,” he agreed, a playful glint in his eye. “but i think she’d like a drink more. would you wanna grab one with me?” for a moment, you hesitated, jihyo’s words echoing in your mind: “total slut, though. you should keep your distance.” but there was something about him, something that intrigued you. his easy confidence, his unexpected kindness from the night before—curiosity got the better of you.

“sure,” you said, nodding. “i'd like that.” his smile widened, and he stood, offering his hand to help you up. his touch was warm, steadying you as you wiped the clay from your hands. the studio felt different now, charged with a new energy, as you left with him, the door closing softly behind you.

as you and him left walked, the conversation continued to flow effortlessly between you. the city lights cast a warm glow on the streets, and the night air was crisp, a perfect backdrop for the unexpected connection forming between you. “so, why have i never seen you around before?” jungkook asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as you walked side by side.

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “i’m usually in the sculpting department. it’s a bit tucked away, not many people venture there unless they have a reason to.” his eyes lit up with interest. “sculpting, huh? that’s pretty cool. i’ve always wanted to try it, but my parents insisted on something more practical. hence, the building department.”

you glanced at him, curiosity piqued. “you should chase your own freedom,” you said earnestly. “do what makes you happy.” he chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. “all i chase is freedom. it’s a problem, really. but it’s why i resonate with butterflies so much. they’re the ultimate symbol of freedom and transformation.” you walked in comfortable silence for a moment, contemplating his words. jungkook’s outlook on life was refreshing, a stark contrast to the rigid expectations that had been imposed on you by others.

as you approached the bar, the lively atmosphere enveloped you. jungkook led you to a section of the room dedicated to dart throwing. the area was bustling with energy, the sound of laughter and friendly competition filling the air. “ever played darts before?” he asked, picking up a dart and spinning it expertly between his fingers. you shook your head, feeling a bit out of your element. “no, i’ve never tried it.”

he grinned, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “well, it’s time you learned.” he turned to the dartboard, aiming with practiced ease and throwing the dart. It hit the center perfectly, a bullseye. “show-off,” you teased, impressed by his skill. he laughed, handing you a dart. “come on, give it a shot. i’ll help you.”

you took the dart, feeling a bit unsure. jungkook moved behind you, his presence close and comforting. he placed one arm gently around your waist, guiding your hand with the other. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “just relax,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “focus on the target.”

with his guidance, you raised your arm and threw the dart. it flew straight, hitting the middle of the board. you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. there was a shared moment of triumph and connection, your heart fluttering at the intensity of his gaze. “see? you’ve got it,” he said softly, a proud smile lighting up his face.

you couldn’t help but smile back, the feeling of accomplishment mingling with a growing sense of attraction. for the rest of the evening, you played a few more rounds, each throw bringing you closer, both physically and emotionally. the drinks flowed, the conversation deepened, and laughter punctuated the night. as the night drew to a close, he insisted on walking you home. the streets were quieter now, the city settling into a peaceful rhythm. when you reached your doorstep, he turned to face you, his expression tender.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said, his voice sincere. “thank you for joining me.”

“me too,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you. “i’m glad i came.” he stepped closer, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. he leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. the simple gesture was filled with warmth and affection, sending a rush of emotions through you.

“good night,” he whispered, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. you watched him walk off into the night, your heart fluttering in your chest. the evening had been unexpected, a whirlwind of emotions and connections that left you feeling both exhilarated and introspective. as you turned to enter your home, you couldn’t help but smile, the memory of his kiss still warm on your skin.

the morning sun filtered through the trees as you walked to your campus with jihyo. the campus was beginning to stir with activity, the hustle of students preparing for the day ahead. the air was filled with the familiar sounds of footsteps, chatter, and the distant hum of city life. jihyo made sure to get a headstart, indulging in her morning vape, the sweet aroma curling around you as you walked side by side. she passed the vape to you, and you took a slow drag, savoring the fleeting tranquility before the day's demands took over. you exhaled, the vapor mingling with the crisp morning air.

as you continued your walk, you recounted the events of the previous night, your voice animated as you described jungkook’s unexpected kindness and the enjoyable evening you had shared. she listened intently, though her expression remained skeptical, her brows furrowing in concern. “and then,” you finished, handing the vape back to her, “he walked me home and gave me a kiss on the forehead. it was really sweet.”

she took a long drag, her eyes narrowing slightly. “it sounds like you had a nice time, but—” she exhaled a cloud of vapor, “—you’re playing with fire, you know that?” you raised an eyebrow, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice. “come on, ji. you’re being way too judgmental. he's not like that, he's different.”

she gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. “i’m just saying, be careful. you don’t know him that well yet.”

you were about to respond when you both froze mid-step. your gaze followed jihyo’s, and you saw him up ahead on the sidewalk. your heart skipped a beat, but this time, he wasn’t alone. he was walking with another girl, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. they seemed at ease with each other, sharing an intimate, comfortable closeness. jihyo glanced at you, her expression a mixture of sympathy and concern. “well,” she said softly, “i guess i wasn’t wrong.”

you stood there, feeling the weight of her words. the sight of jungkook with someone else was a jarring contrast to the warmth you had felt the previous night. it was as if the bubble of the evening’s enchantment had burst, leaving you to confront a reality that you had momentarily ignored.

the girl beside jungkook looked at him with a smile, and he responded with a tender gaze. it was a simple, yet intimate exchange that spoke volumes. the contrast between last night’s connection and this morning’s reality was stark, and you felt a pang of disappointment. jihyo’s hand rested gently on your shoulder, her voice comforting. “i'm sorry, i didn’t mean to rub it in. i just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. “i know. it’s just, i thought there was something real there. maybe i was wrong.” jihyo sighed, taking another drag from her vape. “you weren’t wrong to feel what you felt, just be cautious. sometimes people aren’t as straightforward as they seem.”

you watched as jungkook and the girl walked further down the street, their figures eventually disappearing from view. the sight had left you feeling unsettled, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. the confidence you had felt the night before now seemed fragile, overshadowed by the uncertainty of this new revelation.

as you and jihyo resumed your walk, the campus loomed ahead, its familiar buildings a reminder of the routine and responsibilities awaiting you. the conversation shifted to other topics, but the weight of the morning’s encounter lingered, a reminder that even fleeting connections could carry unexpected complexities. you couldn’t help but reflect on his words about freedom and butterflies, wondering how they fit into this new, unsettling reality. the morning had started with promise but had given way to a reality that was less clear-cut, leaving you to navigate the delicate balance between hope and caution.

the studio was a sanctuary of focused energy and creative chaos. you found solace in the rhythm of your hands working the clay, shaping it with deliberate precision. each stroke was a meditative practice, allowing you to channel your thoughts and emotions into the art before you. jihyo, her boyfriend, and his sister had settled nearby. minho was absorbed in his own project, while jihyo and minyoung chatted softly, their voices a comforting background hum. the three of them had a natural camaraderie that brought a sense of ease to the studio. minyoung’s laughter rang out occasionally, a bright and cheerful sound that contrasted with the solemnity of your own concentration.

as you sculpted, your thoughts drifted back to jungkook. the image of him walking with another girl played over in your mind, like a record stuck on repeat. the warmth of last night seemed distant now, replaced by the chill of reality. you tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the form taking shape in your hands. minyoung’s voice broke through your reverie. “hey, we’re planning to head over to ji’s place tonight for a little get-together. we’re gonna have some drinks and hang out with a few friends from campus. you should come.”

you looked up, momentarily distracted from your work. “that sounds fun,” you said, though your voice betrayed a hint of reluctance. the idea of socializing was appealing, but the thought of seeing jungkook again—especially in a group setting—left you feeling unsettled. jihyo noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring smile. “come on, it’ll be good for you. you’ve had a rough couple of days. a change of scenery might help you feel better.”

uou nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah, i guess you’re right. i’ll come.” minyoung’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “great! it’ll be nice to hang out and unwind. we’re all looking forward to it.”

as the conversation shifted back to other topics, you tried to immerse yourself in the rhythm of sculpting once more. the tactile sensation of the clay beneath your fingers was grounding, a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions. despite your efforts, your mind kept returning to Jungkook. the casual intimacy you had witnessed, the way he had interacted with the girl—every detail seemed to replay itself in your thoughts. jihyo and minho were absorbed in their conversation with minyoung, their voices a blend of excitement and lightheartedness. Occasionally, jihyo would glance over at you, her expression a mix of concern and encouragement. her presence was a reminder of the friendship and support you had, even when things felt uncertain.

the minutes ticked by as you worked, the sculpting process a meditative balm for your frayed nerves. each detail you added to your piece was a small victory, a way to reclaim a sense of control amidst the emotional turbulence. when the end of the class approached, you felt a mixture of relief and anticipation. the prospect of the evening’s gathering offered a potential escape from the weight of your thoughts, a chance to immerse yourself in the company of friends and let the worries of the past few days drift away.

jihyo and minho packed up their things, and you followed suit, feeling a sense of camaraderie as you prepared to leave the studio. minyoung chatted animatedly about the evening’s plans, her enthusiasm infectious despite the lingering doubts in your mind. as you walked out of the studio and headed toward the campus exit, jihyo fell into step beside you. her presence was comforting, a reminder of the support you had. “remember,” she said softly, “tonight’s about relaxing and having a good time. don’t let your worries overshadow it.”

you nodded, taking a deep breath as you stepped into the vibrant energy of the campus. the evening ahead held the promise of distraction and connection, a chance to shift your focus and enjoy the company of friends. as you walked alongside jihyo and minho, you tried to embrace the hope that tonight might bring a welcome reprieve from the storm of emotions you had been navigating. the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the campus as you made your way to her place. with each step, you hoped for a sense of relief and a chance to momentarily escape the complexities of your thoughts.

the evening's promise of relief and distraction dissolved like smoke as you stepped into jihyo’s house. the warmth and laughter that greeted you were abruptly overshadowed by the sight of jungkook among the group of people already there. the room was buzzing with energy, the clinking of bottles and the murmur of conversation filling the air.

jihyo’s cheerful greeting faltered as her gaze locked onto jungkook. she snapped her neck to minho, a look of surprise and irritation crossing her face. “i didn’t know you’d invited jungkook too,” she said, her voice carrying a sharp edge. minho raised his hands defensively, a sheepish grin on his face. “i had no idea there was tension. i thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

you stood there, frozen in the doorway, feeling a chill seep into the warmth of the room. jungkook’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a silent acknowledgment of the situation. his smile faltered slightly when he noticed your lack of reciprocation, the tension between you palpable.

jihyo guided you into the room, her demeanor shifting to one of concern. whe led you to a circle on the floor where the others were already settling in. minho produced bottles of soju, his enthusiasm for the evening evident as he set them down and suggested starting a drinking game. the game began with a lively energy. the group’s laughter and teasing filled the space, but you found it difficult to engage. as the rounds progressed, the questions and challenges became increasingly daring. mina, one of the other girls, challenged jihyo to either take her top off or drink. just as she was about to comply, minho interjected, suggesting she down an entire bottle instead. the room erupted in laughter, a sound that felt distant and hollow to you.

jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching for a reaction. you met his gaze briefly, your own expression unyielding. the game continued around you, the atmosphere growing more frenetic and less comfortable.

jihyo’s eyes sparkled with a new idea as she turned to him, her voice carrying a playful tone. “jungkook, your turn. kiss the prettiest girl in the room or take a drink.” the challenge seemed to electrify the room. his eyes flickered to you once more, his expression a mix of resolve and anticipation. he reached for the bottle of soju, his fingers brushing its neck, before setting it down with a decisive motion. without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

the room erupted in cheers, the sound washing over you in a wave of unwanted attention. jungkook pulled away, his smile radiant and expectant, but you remained unmoved. your eyes were cool, indifferent. the kiss, meant to be playful or provocative, felt hollow and forced. the jubilation of the room contrasted sharply with your own feelings. you took a swig from the soju bottle, the liquid burning as it went down. the alcohol did little to numb the sting of the evening’s events. with a heavy sigh, you excused yourself from the circle and walked toward the door.

as you stepped outside, the cool night air greeted you with a sharp, refreshing clarity. the sky above was dotted with stars, a serene contrast to the chaos you had just left behind. you fumbled with your cigarette box, fingers trembling slightly as you retrieved a cigarette. with a practiced motion, you lit it and inhaled deeply, the smoke curling around you in a calming haze. the solitude of the outdoor space provided a temporary refuge from the din inside. uou leaned against the wall, the cigarette between your fingers a small anchor in the storm of your thoughts. the kiss from jungkook had left you unsettled, and the evening’s veneer of camaraderie had revealed a deeper undercurrent of discomfort and disconnection.

as you stood there, lost in thought, the distant sounds of laughter and music from the party inside seemed faint and distant. the cool breeze carried away the heat of the moment, leaving you with a sense of clarity and resolve. you had come seeking relief, but instead had confronted a reality that was as complex and unpredictable as ever. the cigarette burned down slowly, the embers glowing softly in the night. you finished it with a deep, contemplative drag, savoring the quiet before re-entering the fray of the evening. with a final exhale, you flicked the spent cigarette away and prepared to face whatever the rest of the night might hold.

the night air had a crisp bite to it, a contrast to the clamor of the party inside. you were about to step back into the house, hoping to reclaim some semblance of normalcy, when a shadow fell across your path. you looked up, only to find jungkook standing there, his presence as sudden as it was unexpected.

he leaned down slightly, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. his smile was disarming, and his voice carried a playful tone as he spoke. “why’ve you been so cold to me?” he asked, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

you scoffed, the earlier tension bubbling back to the surface. “why don’t you ask your friend from this morning?” you shot back, unable to keep the edge from your voice.

his laughter was soft and warm, cutting through the chill of the night. “soel? oh, she’s just a friend. nothing more,” he said, dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand. his words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned and silent. the embarrassment of your earlier jealousy washed over you like a tide, coloring your cheeks with a faint blush. he seemed to sense your discomfort and offered a reassuring smile. “don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice gentle. “jealousy looks good on you, by the way.”

your heart skipped a beat at his comment, a flush of heat spreading across your face. the candidness of his words, combined with the intensity of his gaze, made it difficult to maintain your composure. flustered, you looked away, struggling to regain your equilibrium. before you could fully gather yourself, his presence at your side felt oddly comforting. he matched your pace as you turned back toward the house, trailing behind you with a casual, easy stride. the sound of the party inside grew louder as you approached the door, the energy of the gathering spilling out into the hallway.

the night’s revelry had left you intoxicated and unsteady on your feet. the laughter and music from downstairs seemed to blend into a distant hum as you made your way up to jihyo’s room. the stairwell wobbled slightly under your steps, each ascent feeling like an effort as you navigated the dizzying effects of the evening’s drinks. when you finally reached her room, you stumbled through the door and collapsed onto her bed. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a gentle light across the space. the bed felt like a comforting refuge as you sank into its embrace, your head spinning pleasantly from the alcohol.

as you rested, the door creaked open, and you heard the shuffling of footsteps approaching. your hazy vision slowly made out jungkook’s figure as he stumbled into the room, equally inebriated but with a purposeful gait. he looked around, his eyes finally landing on you with a mix of concern and amusement.

“what are you doing here?” you managed to ask, your voice a bit slurred. the question hung in the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and the faint scent of perfume. his smile was lopsided, his gaze soft as he settled down on the bed beside you. “i came to check on you,” he said, his voice carrying a soothing warmth that contrasted with the cool night air.

your heart fluttered at his words, a sensation that felt both thrilling and disorienting. as he sat next to you, his presence was comforting and reassuring, an anchor amidst the swirl of emotions you were feeling. he looked at you with a gentle smile, his eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance.

“you’re just as pretty drunk as you are sober,” he said, his tone affectionate and teasing. the compliment made you blush deeper, and you instinctively raised your hands to cover your face. “my makeup must be a mess,” you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. jungkook shook his head with a soft chuckle, his movements deliberate and careful. “makeup is just art, and you can't mess up art,” he said, his voice tender as he leaned in closer. his face was inches from yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. his fingers gently traced the lines of your face, his touch light as he began to wipe away the smudges of makeup from under your eyes.

the intimacy of the moment seemed to stretch and contract, a space filled with a growing anticipation. jungkook’s gaze held yours, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that matched the softness of his touch. the distance between you closed, the world outside the room fading into insignificance.

when his lips finally met yours, the kiss was hot and heavy, a potent mix of desire and need. it was a kiss that spoke volumes, expressing the unspoken feelings and the intoxicated passion that had been simmering beneath the surface. his lips moved against yours with an intensity that made your heart race, the kiss deepening with every passing second.

as the kiss deepened, the rest of the world seemed to dissolve into a blur. the music from downstairs, the laughter, the people—it all became a distant echo compared to the closeness of his embrace. the kiss was a shared moment of escape, a brief interlude where nothing else mattered but the connection between you and him. “if we continue,” he murmured, his hot breath grazing your lips. “i won't be able to stop myself.”

his eyes searched yours for consent, and even though you were tipsy, you knew exactly what you were doing. with a nod, you let yourself indulge in it, the anticipation building with every step. the room was dimly lit, with the occasional flicker from the candle casting shadows on the walls. the smell of the candle, something sweet and exotic, filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of his cologne. jungkook closed the door behind you, and in that instant, the outside world was forgotten.

once on the bed, your bodies became a tangled mess of limbs and passion. his hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of your body with a hunger that was almost desperate. you felt his tattoo flutter against your neck as he kissed along your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine. you pulled at his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin against yours. the fabric gave way, revealing his toned abs and the tattoo that was inked into the flesh at the base of his neck—a delicate monarch, its wings unfurling in an intricate dance.

his mouth found yours again, and the kiss grew more urgent. your hands fumbled with the buttons of his pants, and he groaned when you finally slipped your hand inside, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. he reciprocated, tugging at the hem of your dress, eager to explore what lay beneath. as the fabric was pushed aside, his eyes widened at the sight of your lacy underwear. “fuck,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire. “so fucking dirty.”

his words were a heady mix of praise and demand, sending a rush of heat to your core. your heart pounded in your chest as he pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties. the coolness of the room hit your skin, making your nipples pebble with excitement. his eyes roamed over you, and you felt exposed, but in the best way possible. his hands followed the path of his gaze, cupping your tits and gently rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. a soft moan escaped your lips, and he took it as an invitation to lean in and suck one into his mouth. the sensation was electric, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him.

his hands moved down to the waistband of your underwear, and with a quick motion, he slid them down your legs. you felt a moment of vulnerability, but it was quickly overshadowed by the desire coursing through your veins. jungkook kissed along your stomach, making his way down to the apex of your thighs. his tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, and you gripped the bed sheets tightly. “oh, god,” you breathed, your voice a desperate whisper.

his eyes never left yours as he positioned himself over you, his own pants discarded on the floor. he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on. even in the dim light, you could see the intensity in his gaze, the raw need that mirrored your own. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice gruff with lust.

you nodded, and it was all he yearned for as he entered you. the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that had you gasping. he paused, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move. his thrusts were deep and slow at first, his eyes never leaving yours as he whispered filthy words in your ear, urging you to let go.

you did, moaning his name as you wrapped your legs around his waist. your hands dug into his back, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he moved. your bodies fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that had been searching for their match. the bed rocked gently under you, the rhythmic sound mixing with your ragged breaths and the slap of skin on skin.

you lost track of time as you both chased the high of climax. his dirty talk grew more intense, and your responses grew louder. it was a dance of dominance and submission, each of you pushing the other closer to the edge. when you finally reached it, your body convulsed around him, and you called out his name like a prayer. jungkook followed shortly after, his dick twitching as if it was his first time.

the morning light filtered through the curtains with a muted glow, casting a soft, hazy light across jihyo’s room. you stirred from sleep, the warmth of the bed a stark contrast to the chill of the previous night. as you slowly regained consciousness, your eyes fell upon the scene beside you. jungkook laid there, his presence so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. the shocking realization hit you as you took in the sight of him naked beside you.

panic surged through you as fragmented memories of the night before flickered in your mind. the kiss, the heat, the intensity—all of it came crashing back. the vividness of those moments left you feeling both disoriented and mortified. with trembling hands, you scrambled to gather your clothes, hastily dressing as you tried to make sense of the chaos.

in a frantic rush, you stumbled out of the room and down the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. the house was still quiet, save for the soft murmurs of the early morning. wgen you reached the bottom, you were met with jihyo’s intense gaze. her expression was a mixture of concern and exasperation, a look that made you feel like you were about to face her wrath. “i could strangle you right now,” she said, her voice sharp and laced with an underlying tension. the threat in her words was softened only by the lack of her morning smoke, a ritual she hadn’t yet indulged in. you stood there, feeling a knot of fear tighten in your stomach. the scolding began, a tirade of reprimands that blended into a blur of guilt and embarrassment.

the weight of your actions pressed heavily upon you, and though you tried to focus on her words, your mind was elsewhere. the guilt of the night before, the uncertainty of what you had done, and the unanticipated consequences all swirled together in a disorienting mix. during class, her scolding continued, her frustration evident. you sat there, trying to stay composed as the minutes ticked by. the lecture on art and technique seemed distant, a backdrop to the internal turmoil you were experiencing. it was only when a familiar face appeared that you were jolted from your reverie.

the girl who had been with jungkook the previous morning walked in and took a seat with you and jihyo. she greeted you with a polite smile, and as she settled in, she mentioned needing help with her sculpture. you gave her your notes, watching her as she began to work with the clay, your mind still reeling from the events of the night. as she sculpted, your gaze inadvertently fell to her wrist. there, clearly visible, was a drawing of a monarch butterfly.

the sight of it sent a jolt through you, your stomach twisting in a sickening churn. the connection hit you like a physical blow, and the room seemed to spin around you. you were frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from the drawing that mirrored the one jungkook had drawn on you. unable to stay any longer, you excused yourself, the rush of emotions and physical discomfort becoming too overwhelming to ignore. you hurried to the bathroom, the need to escape the situation pressing heavily on you. once inside, you leaned over the sink and, overwhelmed by a combination of betrayal, hangover, and emotional turmoil, you began to vomit. each heave felt like it was ripping something deeper inside of you, the physical pain amplifying the emotional distress.

as you clung to the sink, the cool porcelain against your forehead offering a small comfort, you were consumed by a storm of conflicting feelings. the events of the night had left their mark, and now, the stark reality of the situation was unfolding with cruel clarity. as you stepped out of the bathroom, the heaviness in your chest felt almost tangible. the earlier discomfort was still fresh, and you were hoping for a moment of peace. instead, the moment you emerged, you heard a voice calling for you. you turned, only to see jungkook walking towards you with a grin that seemed far too bright given the situation.

“running out without a goodbye kiss? that’s pure evil,” he said, his tone light and teasing. but as you met his gaze, you saw no trace of irony or humor—just a genuine, unfaltering smile that made your stomach churn once again.

you forced yourself to look him in the eyes, trying to steady your emotions. “i just talked to soel,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “she has a butterfly tattoo on her wrist. the same one you drew on me.”

jungkook’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, he seemed unfazed by your revelation. “oh, that? i draw that on all my friends,” he said nonchalantly. “why does it bug you?”

the casualness of his response left you reeling. you stared at him, feeling a cold wave of betrayal wash over you. “is that what i am to you? just a friend?” his reaction was almost mechanical. “yeah,” he said, shrugging slightly. “is that an issue for you?”

the simple, matter-of-fact way he spoke was like a punch to the gut. you were stunned, the weight of his words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. the realization that you had misinterpreted his intentions, that your emotions had been tangled in a misunderstanding, left you feeling hollow. without another word, you turned away, your heart racing and your mind clouded with a storm of betrayal and shock. you walked briskly, your steps echoing with a sense of finality as you left jungkook behind. the turmoil inside you was a jumbled mess, each step away from him only amplifying the confusion and hurt.

the campus was bustling with the usual midday energy as you joined jihyo, minho, and minyoung for lunch. you sat down at the table with them, the usual chatter and laughter around you feeling like a distant echo. as they talked animatedly about their day, you remained silent, the weight of the morning’s events heavy on your shoulders.

minho finally broke through the silence, noticing the way you said nothing. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone gentle but concerned. the question was like a dam breaking. you tried to hold back the tears, but the effort proved futile. they spilled over, each drop a mix of frustration, sadness, and disappointment. the raw emotion that had been building up inside you was finally released, and you found yourself unable to stop the flood.

through your tears, you recounted the events of the night before—the drunken mistake, the disheartening conversation with jungkook, and the sting of betrayal. your voice trembled with each word, the hurt and confusion palpable as you shared your story.

as you spoke, you could see the shock and horror on their faces. minho’s eyes widened with disbelief, and minyoung’s expression turned to one of sympathy. but it was jihyo’s reaction that truly struck you. her face darkened with anger, and her eyes blazed with a fierce resolve. “might actually fucking kill him,” she said with a steely determination, her words delivered in a low, dangerous tone. the promise was almost soothing in its intensity, a sign of her fierce loyalty and anger on your behalf.

you shook your head, feeling a fresh wave of guilt wash over you. “no, don’t,” you managed to say between sobs. “it’s my fault. i was too trusting. i should have seen it coming.”

her expression softened as she reached out to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “don’t blame yourself,” she said firmly. “you didn’t do anything wrong. he’s the one who failed you. focus on yourself and your work. you deserve better than this.” but despite her reassurances, you found it difficult to shift your focus. jungkook’s smile, the way he had looked at you, the crushing realization of his indifference—all of it was still vividly etched in your mind. the pain of the betrayal felt like a persistent ache, a constant reminder of your misplaced trust and the emotional turmoil it had caused.

as lunch continued, you struggled to engage in the conversation. your mind kept drifting back to him, replaying the moments and words that had shattered your sense of stability. the comfort of jihyo’s words was overshadowed by the persistent sting of your own emotions. the rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, the echoes of your thoughts louder than any external noise. the distraction of the campus environment did little to ease your turmoil, and the weight of your feelings continued to anchor you in a state of unresolved pain.

in the solitude of the studio, the air was heavy with the smell of clay and the faint traces of your exhaustion. the sculpture in front of you was nearly complete, a painstakingly crafted representation of a woman’s head—her expression a haunting blend of serenity and despair. the piece symbolized a submission to love that consumed and overwhelmed. her eyes were hollowed out, the sockets deep and dark, conveying an intense and tragic devotion. the gouged-out eyes were not merely a detail; they were the very essence of her surrender, the ultimate sacrifice for the one she loved.

your hands trembled slightly as you made the final adjustments, the weight of your own emotions interwoven with the piece. you took a step back to admire your work, your heart heavy with the sense of completion mingled with the burden of what it represented. the sculpture was a mirror to your own turbulent feelings, capturing the essence of devotion and its potential for destruction.

the quiet of the studio was suddenly disrupted by a voice behind you. “where are her eyes?” jungkook asked, his tone inquisitive yet casual. you stiffened, momentarily frozen by the intrusion. your gaze remained fixed on the sculpture, trying to compose yourself. “she gouged her eyes out,” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of the sculpture’s meaning. “simply because her lover wanted her to. she would do anything for him.”

jungkook’s footsteps approached, and you felt him come closer, his presence a palpable force in the room. he stood behind you, his gaze fixed on the sculpture as he admired your work. “it’s a beautiful piece,” he said, his voice sincere but carrying an undercurrent of something else.

you kept your back to him, your attention focused on the sculpture, trying to ignore the effect his presence had on you. but then, you felt him press closer, his body nearly touching your back. he leaned in, his breath warm and tickling your ear as he gently pushed aside your hair. “are you mad at me?” he asked, his voice a low whisper. you struggled to maintain your composure, the tension between you palpable. “i have no reason to be,” you replied, though your voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty.

you felt him smirk against your skin, the touch of his lips sending shivers down your spine. his kisses, light and teasing, trailed down your neck, each touch intensifying your internal conflict. “we shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured, your voice wavering. his breath was hot against your ear as he replied, “that’s what makes it so fun.”

your resistance wavered as he continued to kiss your neck, the pleasure mingling with your sense of guilt and confusion. You knew it was wrong, yet the allure of the moment was powerful. finally, you turned around to face him, the decision made despite your inner turmoil. you allowed him to kiss you, the contact both electrifying and disorienting.

the kiss was intense, a clash of emotions and desires that left you breathless. jungkook’s touch was both familiar and foreign, a reminder of the complications that had arisen between you. as you surrendered to the kiss, the studio’s quiet solitude seemed to collapse around you, leaving only the swirling mixture of passion and regret. in the midst of the embrace, the sculpture remained a silent witness, its hollow eyes a stark reminder of the emotional sacrifice and the consuming nature of love. the art piece and the reality of your feelings intertwined, creating a poignant reflection of the complicated interplay between desire and devotion.

his hands found their way to your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you closer to him. you felt his arousal pressing against you, and despite your inner reservations, your body responded instinctively. the attraction was undeniable, a magnetic force that seemed to have a will of its own. his kiss grew deeper, more demanding, as his hands began to explore your body. your own hands roamed over his chest, feeling the muscles tighten beneath your touch. the fabric of your clothes felt like a barrier to the connection you both craved, and without a word, jungkook began to remove them. the anticipation grew as each layer fell away, revealing your skin to the cool studio air.

you found yourself bent over the sculpting table, jungkook’s hands tracing your spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he whispered dirty words into your ear, his voice thick with desire, and you felt your knees wobble. the reality of the situation washed over you—the illicitness of it, the raw need you felt for each other—and you realized that this was what you had been craving, despite the guilt.

his fingers dipped lower, finding the wetness between your legs, and you gasped into his mouth. jungkook’s touch grew more insistent, and the sculpture beneath your palms seemed to pulse with the rhythm of your heart. you were no longer the artist—you were the art, being shaped and molded by his desires.

his hand slid away, and you heard the sound of his belt buckle. your heart raced as he positioned himself behind you, the tip of his erection teasing your entrance. “are you sure?” you managed to ask, the tremor in your voice betraying your nerves. “do you want me?” he replied, his voice a challenge. your body answered for you, arching back, begging for him to fill you. and with one powerful thrust, he did.

the sensation was overwhelming—his bare skin against yours, the heat of his body surrounding you. his grip tightened on your hips as he began to move, the rhythm punctuated by your moans and the slap of skin against skin. the intensity grew with each stroke, the pleasure a wildfire that consumed every rational thought. you could feel his breath on your neck, his voice a gruff whisper of praise and desire. your eyes closed, and the sculpture, the studio, the world outside—it all faded away, leaving only the two of you and the primal dance of your bodies.

his thrusts grew harder, deeper, as he claimed you from behind. the sculpture was forgotten, a symbol of a love that was now a tangible reality in the form of this explosive union. you reached back, your hand finding the base of his cock, and you felt his body tense with pleasure. the air was thick with passion, the scent of sex and clay a heady mix that intoxicated you both. jungkook’s movements grew erratic, and you knew he was close. with one final, powerful push, he reached his climax, his warmth filling you as he groaned your name.

you collapsed onto the table, spent and trembling, as jungkook leaned over you, his breath ragged. for a moment, there was only silence, the two of you trying to find your bearings in the aftermath of the storm.

but the quiet was broken by the sudden sound of the studio door opening, and you both froze. your eyes widened with panic, and jungkook’s grip on you tightened. “we can’t get caught,” you whispered, your heart racing with fear and excitement. he smirked, his eyes dark with mischief. “we won’t,” he assured you, his voice low and seductive. “not until we’re finished, anyway.” the tension grew as the footsteps grew louder, and jungkook began to move again, slower this time, his strokes long and deliberate. the game of hiding in plain sight was thrilling, a dangerous edge to the passion that had overtaken you both.

the newcomer to the studio called out a greeting, and his hand covered your mouth, muffling any sound you might make. you bit down on your lip, stifling a moan, as he continued to fuck you with an urgent need that seemed to defy the danger of being discovered. your heart hammered in your chest, the thrill of the forbidden mixing with the fear of being caught.

his movements grew more deliberate, his hips grinding into yours with a silent rhythm that matched the beat of your racing pulse. you could feel the eyes of the sculpture on you, the hollow sockets seeming to judge you even as you writhed in pleasure beneath his touch. the footsteps grew closer, and his grip tightened. he leaned in, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispered, “be quiet, baby. come for me.” the words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you did as he asked, your orgasm building like a crescendo.

just as the person entered the room, you reached the peak, your body convulsing around jungkook’s cock. he groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your neck, and you clamped down on his hand to keep from crying out. the wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you trembling and exposed. his strokes grew shallower, his cock still hard and pulsing inside you. the footsteps stopped just outside the partition that separated the main studio from your makeshift private corner. the tension was unbearable, a tight coil of excitement and fear that made every nerve ending in your body feel alive.

his eyes locked with yours, and you saw the challenge in them. you knew he was enjoying this as much as he enjoyed the sex itself—the risk, the danger, the thrill of the secret. your breathing was ragged, your body still quaking from the orgasm that had torn through you, and yet you remained silent, waiting. the person in the room spoke, their voice muffled by the wall of clay that separated you. jungkook’s thrusts grew more gentle now, almost tender, as he slowly pulled out of you. you felt the warmth of his seed inside you, a stark reminder of what had just happened.

you both waited, your breaths syncing as the footsteps grew fainter, moving away from your hiding spot. once the room was empty again, jungkook leaned down to kiss you, his lips brushing yours with a softness that seemed at odds with the ferocity of your encounter. “see?” he murmured, his voice a low purr. “no one will ever know our little secret.”

you pushed him away gently, sitting up and adjusting your clothes. your mind was racing, a whirlwind of emotions—shame, exhilaration, fear of being found out. but there was also something else, a dark satisfaction that seemed to hum in the air.

the sculpture loomed before you, the woman’s expression now a reflection of your own complex feelings. jungkook pulled on his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours. “we can’t do this again,” you said, the finality in your voice unmistakable. but as he zipped up his pants, the smug smile on his face told you that he didn’t believe you. and deep down, neither did you. the line had been crossed, and the taste of the forbidden was too sweet to ignore.

his eyes held a promise of more to come, and despite yourself, you felt your body respond. the next chapter of this illicit story was already being written, the plot thickening with every shared glance and stolen touch. and you knew that no matter how much you tried to resist, you would be drawn back into the tumultuous dance of desire and deceit that was your relationship with him.

as jungkook stepped out of the studio, his silhouette fading into the dim light of the hallway, you were left alone with the echo of his departure. you hastily pulled your clothes back on, your hands trembling uncontrollably. each movement was a struggle against the storm of emotions raging inside you.

the studio, once a sanctuary of creation, now felt like a cage closing in around you. the quiet was oppressive, amplifying the shattering of your composure. you fought to hold back the tears, but the effort proved futile. they began to fall, each drop a release of the turmoil you had been trying to suppress. you sank to the floor, your body trembling with the force of your sobs. the statue stood before you, its eyeless gaze a haunting reflection of your own despair. the sculpture, a representation of sacrifice and devotion, seemed to mock you now. its hollow eyes, gouged out as a symbol of surrender, mirrored the emptiness and heartbreak you felt inside.

unable to bear the sight, you were overcome by a furious, anguished energy. the intensity of your emotions erupted uncontrollably. you launched yourself at the statue, your hands and feet flailing as you knocked it over. the crash of clay against the floor was loud, a jarring sound that matched the violence of your grief. you kicked at the broken pieces, the fragments scattering across the studio floor. the destruction was cathartic yet devastating, a physical manifestation of the chaos within you. as the statue lay shattered, the pieces symbolized the fragmented state of your heart. each kick was a release, each broken shard a representation of your pain.

exhausted and overwhelmed, you slid down against the wall, the tears still flowing freely. the destruction of the sculpture had not lessened the weight of your sorrow. instead, it left you staring at the remnants, the once-beautiful work now reduced to a broken mess. you continued to cry, your body wracked with sobs as you gazed at the ruined statue. the eyeless gaze of the sculpture, now in fragments, seemed to reach out to you in a final, tragic understanding. the intense emotion of the piece was mirrored in your own shattered state. the studio, with its scattered pieces and your anguished cries, was a poignant testament to the overwhelming pain and anger you felt.

the contrast between the beauty of the sculpture and the violence of its destruction spoke to the raw intensity of your emotions. the studio, once a space of artistic expression, had become a stage for your most profound heartache. as you wept, the remnants of the statue lay around you, a somber reminder of the intricate connection between art, love, and the devastating effects of betrayal. in the end, as your sobs quieted and you sat amidst the broken pieces, the sight of the ruined sculpture served as a haunting reflection of your own emotional wreckage. the tears continued to fall, mingling with the clay fragments, a final, tragic testament to the depth of your despair.

as you gathered your belongings, the weight of the night’s events clung heavily to your shoulders. the studio, once a place of solace and creativity, now felt like a space of ruin and disillusionment. your hands moved mechanically, shoving your scattered materials into your bag. each motion was devoid of purpose, driven by a numbing emptiness rather than intent.

the soft sounds of your packing were abruptly interrupted by distant noises—low grunts and muffled groans—emanating from the studio down the hall. the sounds were raw and unsettling, a contrast to the quiet destruction you had left behind. your curiosity and dread compelled you to investigate, despite the turmoil within you.

you approached the door to the neighboring studio, its glass panel offering a distorted view into the dimly lit room. peering through, your heart sank as you recognized the scene unfolding inside. jungkook was there, engaged with a girl you couldn’t identify. the sight of them, entwined in an intimate and brutal display, was a dagger to your already fragile heart.

the cold reality of the moment was a sharp contrast to the warmth you had briefly experienced with him. you were paralyzed, unable to tear your gaze away from the scene before you. each grunt and moan was a reminder of your own vulnerability and the painful contrast between the connection you had felt and the stark betrayal unfolding before you. the sight of him with another, the passion and disregard apparent in their movements, left you feeling hollow. you had no tears left to shed; the emotional reservoir had been drained dry by the night's turmoil. the image of their bodies, entwined and fervent, was seared into your mind—a brutal symbol of your own sense of abandonment and betrayal.

turning away from the glass, you felt an eerie emptiness consume you. the world seemed to blur as you walked down the hallway, your steps heavy and unsteady. your mind was a void, a blank slate where thoughts and emotions once swirled with intensity. the encounter had left you drained, each step echoing with the weight of your disillusionment.

the cold air of the hallway seemed to press against you, a stark reminder of the isolation you felt. as you made your way home, the world around you was a distant haze. the vibrant life of the campus and the remnants of your art—the shattered statue, the chaotic emotions—faded into the background, leaving only the crushing emptiness of your thoughts. each step felt like a journey through fog, the clarity of the night’s events slipping away with each movement. the betrayal, the emotional wreckage, and the raw intensity of the moments you had witnessed had left you numb. you walked forward, but within, you remained frozen—trapped in the silence of your own heartache.

the sun rose reluctantly on the campus the next day, its light casting a dull glow through the classroom windows. you stumbled into your class, exhausted and hollow-eyed from a night spent in sleepless turmoil. the world outside felt distant, its vibrancy lost to you as you trudged through the motions of daily life. your movements were mechanical as you took your place among the scattered students. the studio, once a sanctuary of creativity, now felt foreign and unwelcoming. the empty canvas in front of you was a glaring testament to your lack of inspiration. the urge to sculpt, to create, was absent, replaced by a void of emotional fatigue and despair.

jihyo tried her best to offer comfort. her words were gentle, her presence a constant reassurance in the face of your turmoil. despite her efforts, the pain within you remained insurmountable. her attempts to console you seemed to fall short of reaching the deep chasm of your heartache. the betrayal and the haunting images from the previous night left you adrift, unable to focus or find solace.

the professor’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, announcing a new student would be joining the class. you barely registered his words, your mind elsewhere, wandering through the fog of your sleepless night. it wasn’t until you heard the shuffle of footsteps and the murmur of surprise among your peers that you looked up.

your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with the new student. it was jackson. the same jackson who had once been a part of your world, now standing before you with a familiar, if unwelcome, presence. the shock of seeing him in this context, amid your already tumultuous emotions, was almost too much to bear. he met your gaze with an expression that was a mixture of apprehension and resolve. the smile he once wore with ease now seemed strained, an acknowledgment of the shared past that had ended in such distressing terms. the air in the room felt charged, the atmosphere thick with an unspoken tension. his arrival was a jarring reminder of old wounds, reopened with his unexpected reappearance.

you forced yourself to focus, trying to ignore the way your heart raced and the way your mind spun with fragmented memories of him. the professor introduced jackson, guiding him to a seat, and the room’s atmosphere shifted. the familiar face was a painful reminder of a time when things had been different, when trust and affection had colored your world.

jihyo, noticing the way your gaze lingered on him, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. you offered her a weak smile, her concern evident in her eyes. yet, despite her support, the emotional storm inside you remained uncalm. you felt as though you were caught in the eye of a hurricane, where the calm was an illusion masking the chaos within.

as jackson settled into his new spot, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. the familiarity of his presence, combined with the unresolved issues from your past, created a sense of disquiet. you tried to refocus on your work, but the blank canvas before you was a stark reminder of the numbness that had consumed your creativity. the rest of the class droned on, his presence a silent but heavy weight in the room. every glance in his direction felt like a step back into a storm you had barely escaped. your hands remained idle, the sculpting tools untouched as you struggled to regain some semblance of normalcy.

the day dragged on, each minute a reminder of the fractured pieces of your recent past. as the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the class, you gathered your things with a sense of resignation. the encounter with him had been a jarring disruption, but it was also a harsh reminder that the echoes of past relationships often resurface when least expected. you walked out of the classroom, your mind still clouded with the weight of your emotions. the campus, with its usual bustle of activity, felt distant and surreal. the familiar paths and faces seemed altered, as though you were navigating through a dream that had turned unsettlingly real.

the day seemed to drag endlessly as you walked out of the classroom, feeling the heavy weight of jackson’s unexpected reappearance. the campus, once a place of refuge and creativity, now felt like a labyrinth of memories and unresolved emotions. you walked with a purpose, desperate to escape the lingering sense of disquiet that his presence had stirred within you.

as you moved through the crowded hallways, lost in your thoughts, a voice called out to you, breaking through the fog of your mind. you turned slowly, your heart skipping a beat as you saw hin standing a few steps away. his expression was earnest, eyes filled with a mix of regret and hope. for a moment, you felt paralyzed, caught between the urge to flee and the reluctant desire to hear him out.

jackson took a hesitant step towards you, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist. the touch was light, almost pleading, and you could feel the warmth of his skin through your thin sleeve. his eyes were filled with an apologetic softness that seemed to convey a depth of remorse you hadn’t anticipated. “what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the memory of the sculpture and the pain it had caused still fresh in your mind.

his gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before he looked up again, his eyes meeting yours with a sincere gravity. “i wanted to focus solely on my work,” he said, his voice laced with an honesty that was both surprising and unsettling. “it’s been difficult since you left. i lost my muse.”

the words struck you with a sharp edge, stirring a storm of conflicting emotions within you. the image of the sculpture, the public humiliation, and the way he had dismissed your feelings—all of it came rushing back. you remembered the pain and betrayal that had clouded your heart.

“you don’t get to just come back and pretend like everything’s fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “you can’t erase what you did.”

his face fell, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “i know,” he said quietly. “and I’m sorry. i had the sculpture removed. i understand that nothing will ever be the same. i just wanted to let you know that, if nothing else, i’d like to be your friend.”

his words were both unexpected and profound, offering a semblance of closure that you hadn’t anticipated. the notion of friendship, after everything that had transpired, felt both distant and comforting. you stood there, absorbing the gravity of his apology and the genuine regret that seemed to hang in the air between you. for a moment, the chaos inside you quieted, replaced by a fragile sense of peace. his offer of friendship was an olive branch, a gesture that acknowledged the hurt while striving for something different. yet, the wound was still fresh, and the idea of moving past it was daunting.

“i need time,” you said finally, your voice steady but tinged with a quiet resolve. “i can’t just pick up where we left off.” he nodded, his expression a blend of understanding and sadness. “i know,” he replied softly. “take all the time you need. i just wanted you to know i’m here if you ever want to talk.” with a final, lingering look, he turned and began to walk away. each step seemed to echo with the weight of the past and the uncertain promise of the future. you watched him go, your mind awash with a storm of emotions—anger, relief, and a bittersweet sense of closure. as you stood there alone in the corridor, the bustling noise of the campus seemed distant, as if you were enveloped in a cocoon of introspection. the conversation with jackson had stirred up old wounds, but had also offered a glimmer of resolution.

lunch on campus was always a comforting routine. the sun was high, casting dappled shadows through the leafy canopy above. you, jihyo, and minho had claimed your usual spot at a worn wooden table, the comforting hum of student chatter surrounding you. jihyo animatedly recounted her latest project, while minho nodded, occasionally chiming in with his dry wit. you were halfway through a bite of your sandwich when you saw him—jackson. he passed by with his characteristic easy grace, a slight smile playing on his lips as his eyes met yours. respectfully, he sat on a separate bench a few feet away, not wanting to intrude.

jihyo's eyes narrowed, her conversation with minho faltering as she followed your gaze. “why is he here?” she muttered, her voice barely audible but dripping with disdain. you stood up, your decision made in an instant. as you approached him, his smile faded slightly, replaced with a look of concern.

“is everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft, yet tinged with uncertainty. “come sit with us,” you replied, your tone gentle yet firm.

“are you sure?” his hesitation was palpable.

you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. with a grateful nod, he followed you back to the table. minho raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but it was jihyo's reaction that was most striking. her eyes widened, and she sat back, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

“jackson, this is minho,” you introduced, and he gave a polite nod. “and this is jihyo.” jackson extended his hand to her, but she simply stared him down, her gaze icy. “she may have forgotten what you did, but i sure haven’t,” she said, her voice like steel.

he withdrew his hand slowly, nodding in acknowledgment. “i understand,” he replied softly. you placed a comforting hand on jihyo’s arm. “he came for a fresh start,” you explained, your voice calm and steady. “he even got the sculpture taken down.” jihyo’s skeptical glance lingered on him, but she didn’t press further. the tension in the air was almost tangible, but his presence gradually began to feel less intrusive.

he smiled at you, a look of genuine gratitude and perhaps a hint of hope in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling a sense of warmth and relief. the past might not be easily forgotten, but in that moment, it felt like a step towards something better, something new. as the conversation slowly resumed, you couldn’t help but feel that this lunch, under the sunlit canopy, marked the beginning of a significant change—a moment of reconciliation and new beginnings.

unbeknownst to you, a familiar figure stood in the background, having noticed your whole ordeal. jungkook, leaning casually against a nearby tree, had been chatting with his friends, their laughter mingling with the warm air. but his attention had been subtly drawn to you the moment jackson appeared. his dark eyes followed every movement, every gesture you made. the way you approached jackson with a calm demeanor, the soft reassurance in your voice, and the unyielding kindness in your eyes—it all piqued his curiosity. his friends were engrossed in a lively debate about the upcoming exhibition, but he found himself only half-listening, his mind occupied with the scene unfolding at your table.

he watched as you led jackson back, noticed the tension between him and jihyo, and observed the way you mediated with such grace. jungkook brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, trying to focus back on his friends' conversation. yet, the feeling tugging at his heartstrings was undeniable, a peculiar mix of curiosity and something he couldn’t quite identify.

the laughter of his friends brought him back to the present moment, and he forced a smile, joining in their conversation. but his eyes betrayed him, darting back to you occasionally. he noted the genuine smile you exchanged with jackson, a smile that seemed to light up your entire being. he couldn’t put his finger on it. was it admiration? perhaps a touch of jealousy? he shook his head, trying to dismiss the thoughts. after all, he had no reason to feel this way. you were just another girl, albeit a talented one, whose work he respected. yet, there was something in the way you handled the situation that stirred something deep within him.

back in the studio, the familiar scent of clay and the quiet hum of creativity enveloped you. the light filtering through the tall windows cast an ethereal glow on your workspace, illuminating the clay sculpture taking shape beneath your deft fingers. you shuddered, recalling the tumultuous scene you had caused, the emotional outburst that had led you to destroy your previous work of art.

determined to push back any thoughts of jungkook, you focused entirely on the clay before you. each movement was elegant, deliberate, as your hands moved with a grace born from years of practice. your mind, however, raced with a whirlwind of emotions—freedom, butterflies, liberty, independence. the sculpture was coming to life beneath your touch: an extended hand, its fingers gently curved, and a string of butterflies, delicate and intricate, laid one on top of the other. they seemed to be chasing the freedom they so desperately desired. yet, as you worked, their wings began to wither, the fragile clay starting to crumble under your touch. they had flown for so long, yearning for independence, before finally finding solace in the palm of a hand. it was a poignant realization—that the only thing they needed more than freedom was the touch of love.

you were so absorbed in your work that you barely noticed when jackson entered the studio. he said nothing, simply standing and watching you. his presence was quiet, respectful, and he observed as you caressed the butterflies, shaping each one with meticulous care. “it’s a beautiful piece,” he finally said, his voice soft, breaking the silence.

startled, you looked up, your eyes meeting his. you hadn’t realized he was there, so engrossed in your work. “jackson,” you breathed, your hands stilling. “i didn’t see you come in.”

he offered a gentle smile, stepping closer to the sculpture. “i didn’t want to disturb you. you looked so focused.” you glanced back at the sculpture, the extended hand and the fragile butterflies. “they’re chasing freedom,” you explained, your voice thoughtful. “but their wings are falling apart. they’ve been flying for so long, seeking independence, but they realize that what they need more than freedom is love.”

jackson studied the piece for a moment, nodding slowly. “you have a way of seeing the world, of expressing it through your art. i was wrong. you know art better than anyone.” his words were sincere, and they touched you deeply. you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, a tender gesture, it struck you—you knew art, its nuances, its depth. nevertheless, you didn't know love. that was a realm you had yet to truly understand.

the studio felt different now, not just a place of creation, but a space where emotions, complex and raw, intertwined with every sculpted form. and in that moment, with jackson's reassuring presence and the delicate clay butterflies, you realized there was more to learn, more to feel, beyond the confines of your art.

his eyes, warm and curious, met yours. “what has you so fascinated with butterflies?” he asked, his voice soft yet probing. you paused, your mind inevitably drifting back to jungkook. the memory of the monarch tattoo on the back of his neck was vivid, a symbol of his own desperate need to chase freedom. the thought made your blood run cold, a shiver running down your spine. you forced a smile, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away. “i admire them,” you said, your voice steady but distant. “they chase their own freedom, rather than love.”

his gaze softened, understanding flickering in his eyes. “everyone deserves love more than anything,” he replied gently. you said nothing, the words lingering in the air between you. the silence was filled with unspoken emotions, a depth of feeling that you couldn’t quite articulate. “especially you,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

the moment felt fragile, delicate like the butterflies you sculpted. before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open, and jihyo walked in, her presence breaking the intimate silence.

“hey, you two,” she called out, her tone light and cheerful. “the group's going out for drinks. you’re both welcome to join.” you hesitated, the weight of the day’s emotions still heavy on your shoulders. the idea of socializing felt overwhelming, but before you could decline, jackson spoke up.

“you deserve a break,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring smile. “come on, it’ll be fun.” with a sigh, you nodded, feeling a mix of reluctance and gratitude. his encouragement gave you the push you needed. the prospect of stepping out of the studio, even for a short while, seemed like a small reprieve.

as you gathered your things, the studio’s comforting hum faded into the background. you cast one last look at your sculpture, the extended hand and the fragile butterflies, and felt a renewed sense of purpose. perhaps, amidst the chaos and the quest for freedom, there was room for love too. walking out with jackson and jihyo, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting, a subtle change in the air. the evening stretched ahead of you, filled with possibilities, and for the first time in a while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

the walk to the bar was filled with a mixture of anticipation and unease. the streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that danced with each step you took. jihyo walked ahead, her laughter echoing down the empty street, while jackson stayed close by your side. as you approached the entrance of the bar, a sudden chill washed over you, sending a shiver down your spine. you couldn't quite place the feeling, but it was a foreboding sense that something was about to happen. the moment you walked in, the dim lighting and the low hum of chatter enveloped you. But it was the pair of dark eyes that you locked with immediately that sent a jolt through your entire being.

it was him, it always seemed to be him. he was sitting at a table with a few friends, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. your body tensed involuntarily, and jackson, ever perceptive, noticed immediately. he placed a comforting arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “ease up,” he whispered in your ear, his voice calm and reassuring. “i’ve got your back.”

you finally broke the gaze, nodding at jackson, and made your way to a table as far from jungkook as possible. jackson's arm remained draped around you, a steadying presence in the storm of emotions brewing inside you. the two of you indulged in drinks, jackson leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “just so you know,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m a lightweight.” you laughed, the tension easing slightly. “i know,” you whispered back, your smile widening.

despite your attempts to ignore him, you could feel jungkook’s eyes on you the entire time. he downed his drink, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he watched you with jackson. you could almost feel the intensity of his thoughts, wondering who jackson was and why you were with him. minho’s voice broke through the haze of tension. “how about a round of darts?” he suggested, his tone light and carefree.

your mind immediately flashed back to playing darts with jungkook, the way he had stood behind you, guiding your hand, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered instructions. the memory was sharp and painful, and you shook your head. “no, thank you,” you replied politely, trying to keep your voice steady. jackson noticed the flicker of emotion in your eyes. “i’ll play for you,” he offered, a confident smile on his lips.

you nodded, grateful for his support. jackson stood up, heading over to the dartboard, and jungkook’s eyes narrowed. his fuse had blown, the thin veneer of calm shattering. “i’ll play against you,” he announced, his voice low and challenging.

the room went quiet, the tension palpable. your face went pale, and you glanced at jackson, who scoffed, clearly unfazed by his challenge. “fine,” he said coolly. “let’s play.”

the game began, and the atmosphere was thick with tension. each throw of the dart was accompanied by backhanded remarks, the words sharp and biting. “nice throw,” jungkook commented, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “didn’t know you had it in you.” jackson smirked, his eyes never leaving the dartboard. “you’d be surprised what i can do,” he replied smoothly. “unlike some people, i don’t need to show off.”

jungkook’s eyes flashed with anger. “careful,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “you might bite off more than you can chew.” jackson shrugged, his expression unfazed. “i think i’ll manage,” he said, his voice steady. the game continued, each round more intense than the last. finally, with a final, precise throw, jackson won. he turned to you, a triumphant smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but hug him congratulatory. his embrace was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the cold glare jungkook sent your way.

his gaze never left the two of you, his eyes dark and stormy. the tension in the air was almost suffocating, but in jackson’s arms, you felt a sense of safety and support. the night was far from over, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, grateful for the small victories amidst the chaos.

the tension inside the bar had become suffocating, a palpable force that seemed to press down on you. excusing yourself, you made your way to the door, needing a moment of solitude to clear your mind. as you stood up, jackson placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, his lips warm and reassuring. “hurry back,” he said softly, his eyes full of warmth. but you didn’t miss the way jungkook’s gaze hardened, his jaw clenching as he watched the small exchange.

you stepped outside, the cool night air a welcome relief. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a cigarette, the flick of the lighter breaking the stillness. as you took the first drag, the smoke curled around you, its familiar scent grounding you in the moment. your peace was short-lived, however. a voice broke through the quiet, low and unmistakable.

“is that your boyfriend?” you didn’t turn around. instead, you scoffed, exhaling a plume of smoke. “he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

jungkook’s tone was unreadable as he remarked, “you two seem close.” you took another drag, the cigarette glowing softly in the darkness. “we have history,” you replied. “we might even make up at some point.”

he laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “don’t even think about it,” he said, his voice hardening. finally, you turned to face him, anger flaring in your chest. “what does it have to do with you?”

he took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “the sight of you with another man makes me unreasonably angry,” he confessed, his voice low and intense. you were silent, your heart pounding as he stepped even closer. his presence was overwhelming, the air between you crackling with unspoken tension. without breaking eye contact, he reached out, taking the cigarette from your hand. he brought it to his lips, taking a slow puff, a small smile playing on his lips.

“mind your own business,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “we’re nothing but friends, according to you.” he took another puff before leaning in, his gaze never wavering. in a swift motion, he pulled you in for a kiss. for a moment, you kissed him back, lost in the familiar warmth and intensity. but reality snapped back, and you pushed him away, anger and confusion swirling inside you.

“i have no interest in playing your games anymore,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. he was taken aback, his expression one of surprise and hurt, but he stayed silent. you stepped back, your eyes meeting his one last time. “stick to your usual players,” you told him, your voice laced with finality.

turning on your heel, you walked back into the bar, leaving jungkook standing alone in the night. the door closed behind you, the noise and warmth of the bar enveloping you once more. jackson looked up as you returned, concern flickering in his eyes, but you gave him a reassuring smile, trying to push the encounter from your mind. as you rejoined the group, the weight of the moment lingered, a heavy reminder of the complicated web of emotions you were entangled in. the night carried on, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

the night blurred as you indulged in the haze of alcohol, the edges of your reality softening with each drink. jungkook had returned to the bar, his presence a sharp contrast to the numbness that enveloped you. he made a deliberate effort to ignore you and jackson, his attention directed toward the girl beside him. she was a stranger to him, her name unimportant as she pressed kisses to his neck and traced her fingers along his collarbone.

you hadn't planned on drinking as much as you did. but when you caught a glimpse of the butterfly on the girl's wrist, the sight stung like a needle, memories of jungkook's monarch tattoo flooding back, memories of your own cherished drawing flooding back. you stared at the bottom of your glass, realizing you had lost count of how many times it had been filled and emptied.

jihyo noticed first, her eyes filled with sympathy as she took the glass from your hand, ignoring your feeble protests. jackson, his expression a mix of concern and exasperation, leaned in close. “you've had too much,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. you wanted to argue, to push away his words, but the truth of them settled heavily on your shoulders. you felt too relaxed, your movements sluggish and your thoughts muddled. jackson announced to the group that he was taking you home, his tone leaving no room for debate.

that was when jungkook's attention was drawn back to you. he watched, his eyes darkening with an emotion he couldn't name, as jackson helped you to your feet. jungkook's heart twisted painfully as he saw the way you clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. he wanted to intervene, to take you in his arms and carry you home himself, but the weight of his own pride held him back. all he could do was watch as jackson guided you out of the bar, the girl's touch losing its allure entirely.

the walk home was a stumbling journey, your words slurring together in a drunken rant about what an asshole jungkook was. jackson did his best to console you, his voice soothing even as a pang of jealousy tightened in his chest. the sight of you in pain, tears glistening in your eyes, was almost more than he could bear.

when you finally reached your front door, he paused, his hands gentle as he steadied you. “seeing you cry was one of the worst experiences of my life,” he confessed, his voice low and earnest. “any man who makes you cry doesn't deserve you.” you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through the fog of alcohol. he leaned in, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, the touch tender and bittersweet. “take care of yourself,” he whispered before turning to leave, the weight of his unspoken feelings lingering in the air.

you watched him go, your heart heavy with the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. the night was quiet now, the world around you still as you stood on your doorstep, the echo of jackson's words ringing in your ears. inside, the emptiness of your home seemed to mirror the void in your heart. you stumbled to your room, collapsing onto your bed, your mind replaying the events of the night. the taste of jungkook's kiss still lingered on your lips, a reminder of the complicated web of feelings you couldn't untangle. as sleep finally claimed you, your dreams were a tangled mess of memories and emotions, a reflection of the chaos that had become your reality.

the next day dawned with a dreary sky, the clouds heavy and swollen with impending rain. the rhythmic patter of raindrops against your window was a somber lullaby, pulling you from the clutches of a restless sleep. you groaned, the pounding in your head a relentless reminder of the previous night's excesses. forcing yourself out of bed, you prepared for the day, each movement deliberate and slow, as if the weight of your thoughts had seeped into your very bones.

the campus was a blur of umbrellas and hurried footsteps, the rain a persistent curtain that blurred the edges of your vision. you pulled your jacket tighter, shivering as the cold droplets kissed your skin. as you made your way to your morning class, a voice called out, stopping you in your tracks. “wait! could you come with me to the office?”

you turned to see one of the teachers, her expression unreadable. nervousness clawed at your insides, but you nodded, falling into step beside her. the walk to the office felt interminable, the walls closing in as a sense of dread pooled in your stomach. once inside, she gestured for you to sit, her demeanor serious. you complied, the anxiety almost unbearable as you waited for her to speak.

“the school’s program sends ten students from different departments every year to japan,” she began, her voice measured. “they spend a year at our sister art academy to strengthen their future as artists.” you nodded, your heart pounding. “i’m aware.”

she leaned forward, her eyes intense. “your sculptures have caught the eyes of many. you’re the top candidate. would you be interested?” the words hung in the air, your mind reeling. excitement surged through you, momentarily banishing the remnants of your hangover. “yes, absolutely!”

a smile ghosted across her lips. “you’ll need to create one more simple piece, something that speaks to you. can you do that?” you nodded, your thoughts already racing. “yes, i’m on it.”

“good. finish and present it as soon as possible.” you left the office, the rain still falling in relentless sheets. the excitement that had bubbled within you was quickly overshadowed by a gnawing hesitation. the reality of what the opportunity meant settled in, heavy and unyielding. you would be leaving everything behind—your friends, your school, and jungkook.

the thought of leaving him sent a fresh wave of uncertainty crashing over you. despite everything, despite the confusion and the pain, he was a part of your world. the idea of being an ocean away from him was almost too much to bear. you found yourself wandering aimlessly, the rain soaking through your clothes, each step feeling heavier than the last. your mind was a tempest, torn between the excitement of a new adventure and the fear of the unknown. the prospect of creating another sculpture loomed before you, a task that now felt monumental under the weight of your emotions.

the memory of your last piece resurfaced, the butterflies chasing freedom only to realize they needed love. the irony wasn’t lost on you. as you trudged through the rain, you realized that this new piece had to encapsulate everything you felt—the excitement, the fear, the longing, and the love. you headed back to the studio, the familiar scent of clay and plaster a strange comfort. as you began to work, the world outside faded away. your hands moved almost of their own accord, shaping and molding, each touch a cathartic release of the turmoil within. the rain continued its steady rhythm against the windows, a melancholic soundtrack to your efforts.

hours passed in a blur, your focus unbroken despite the emotional storm raging inside you. the sculpture began to take shape, a raw, unfiltered expression of your heart. it was a simple piece, yet it spoke volumes—a delicate balance of freedom and love, the very essence of your struggle. by the time you stepped back to admire your work, exhaustion had settled into your bones, but there was a sense of accomplishment too. the piece was a part of you, a fragment of your soul made tangible.

as you stepped into the bustling café where you had arranged to meet jihyo and jackson, the atmosphere was charged with the soft hum of conversations and clinking coffee cups. the light rain that had persisted throughout the day drummed gently against the café’s windows, adding a soothing rhythm to the scene. you were greeted by their warm smiles as you took your seat, the weight of the day’s revelation still heavy on your shoulders.

jackson leaned forward, his eyes alight with genuine enthusiasm. “you know, this opportunity is amazing. your talent has always been evident, and this chance in japan is well-deserved. i’m so proud of you.” jihyo nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the same pride and encouragement. “you’ve worked so hard. this is the kind of break you need to truly shine. i know you’re feeling hesitant, but remember how much you’ve accomplished. this is your chance to take it to the next level.”

you smiled weakly, your excitement mingling with apprehension. “i definitely plan to take it. it’s just, everything’s happening so fast, and i’m not sure how to let go of everything I’m leaving behind.”

jackson reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on yours. “your art is the best thing about you. it’s not just a part of you; it’s a reflection of who you are. anyone who gets to experience it, anyone who gets to know you through your art, is incredibly fortunate. you’re meant for great things.”

“thank you,” you said softly, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with unease. it was then that you noticed a familiar figure through the café’s window. your heart skipped a beat as you saw jungkook sitting outside, his presence an unexpected jolt to your already fraught emotions. your breath caught in your throat as you observed him with another girl, who sat comfortably in his lap. they were sharing an intimate kiss, the tenderness of the moment starkly contrasting with the chaos swirling inside you.

the sight was a knife to your heart, the image of their closeness slicing through your resolve. you felt the world around you narrow, the laughter and chatter of the café fading into a distant hum. every beat of your heart seemed to echo with the impact of what you were witnessing. the gentle curve of jungkook’s smile, the way he held her—it was a brutal reminder of what you were losing. struggling to maintain composure, you excused yourself with a shaky voice. “i think i need some air. i’ll walk home.”

without waiting for their response, you stood abruptly, the café’s warmth feeling stifling against the cold storm brewing inside you. you pushed through the door, the crisp rain and cool air a sharp contrast to the suffocating emotions that had taken hold. each step felt heavy, the rain drumming against your skin a harsh, unrelenting reminder of the turmoil within.

as you walked, the image of jungkook and the girl replayed in your mind, a relentless echo that seemed to drown out all other thoughts. your heart felt like it was being pulled in a hundred directions at once—toward the excitement of your new opportunity and the painful reality of what you might be leaving behind. the rain continued to fall, mingling with the tears that slipped down your cheeks, unnoticed. the world around you seemed to blur, your thoughts a chaotic whirl of feelings and memories. the prospect of the future was overshadowed by the haunting present, and the weight of your choices seemed almost unbearable. you trudged along, the journey home a silent testament to the internal struggle you faced. the thought of him and his effortless connection with someone else was a harsh reminder of the emotional complexity you had to navigate, and the path ahead felt uncertain and fraught with both hope and heartache.

the rain fell in heavy, unrelenting sheets as you walked home, each step a painful reminder of the emotional weight you carried. the sky was a somber gray, the clouds a reflection of the storm raging inside you. your body felt frail, your legs weak, as if the very essence of your being was being drained away. the weight of what you had seen, the raw pain of feeling worthless, clung to you with an almost tangible heaviness. jungkook had meant the world to you, yet now it seemed that even that precious world was slipping through your fingers, leaving nothing but a hollow ache.

you trudged along the empty streets, the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the pavement blending with the chaotic rhythm of your thoughts. the cold rain soaked through your clothes, chilling you to the bone, but it barely registered against the emotional frost that had settled over your heart.

suddenly, you heard your name being called out. the voice was distant, but unmistakable. you recognized it instantly. it was him. you kept walking, trying to push the sound away, as if ignoring it could somehow make it disappear. but then, you heard it again, more urgent, cutting through the rain-soaked night. your steps faltered, and you turned around, your heart sinking as you saw him running towards you, his figure becoming clearer with each stride.

jungkook was drenched, the rain pouring down his face, mingling with the anguish that seemed to be etched into his features. his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. he reached you, breathless and soaked to the skin, but his presence was like a burning beacon in the storm.

“don’t go,” he said, his voice breaking through the relentless roar of the rain. you stared at him, confusion mingling with the pain in your chest. “what are you talking about?”

“i heard about japan,” he continued, his voice raw and pleading. “don’t go. please.”

the words struck you like a blow, but you fought to keep your composure. “i have no reason to stay,” you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain firm. to your surprise, jungkook took your hands into his, his grip warm and desperate. “i need you here,” he said, his eyes filled with a pleading intensity. “i need you to stay.”

the tears that you had been holding back began to well up, blurring your vision. you pulled your hands away from his grasp, your voice cracking as you spoke. “i need to be as far away from you as possible. i like you too much, jungkook. i care for you, but i can’t give you the freedom you want. i need to chase my own freedom.”

you turned away, but his grip was swift and unyielding. he grabbed your arm, pulling you back, his fingers digging in with a desperation that matched your own inner turmoil. you could hear the ragged breaths escaping from his lips as he clung to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “please, just stay. don’t go.” you tried to pull away, but he held on, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close until your back was pressed against his chest. his embrace was both comforting and agonizing, a paradox of warmth and sorrow. you could feel his heartbeat against your back, a rhythmic reminder of the pain that was being shared between you.

he whispered into your ear, his voice trembling with emotion. “i need you. please don’t leave me.”

the tears streamed down your face uncontrollably as you remained silent, the weight of the decision pressing heavily upon you. his pleas were a bittersweet melody that tore at your heart, the pain of leaving him and the freedom you sought intertwining into a tormenting dance. with a final, wrenching sob, you pulled your arm away, turning to face him one last time. his face was a picture of heartache, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you, his expression a mixture of longing and devastation. the sight of him, so vulnerable and broken, was almost too much to bear.

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you turned away once more. the rain seemed to pour harder, as if the heavens were weeping for the love you were leaving behind. you walked away, each step feeling like an eternity, the pain of leaving jungkook and the promise of your future battling within your heart. the finality of your decision was a heavy burden, but you knew that you had to forge ahead, even as the sorrow of what you were leaving behind threatened to consume you.

the night had been a long, dark tunnel through which you stumbled, your steps muffled by the weight of your sorrow. the rain had pattered relentlessly against your window, a haunting lullaby that matched the rhythm of your tearful sobs. you had cried yourself to sleep, each tear a silent testament to the heartache that coursed through you, mingling with the cold emptiness of the night. the warmth of your bed was of little comfort, overshadowed by the turmoil that roiled within your chest.

as dawn broke, its pale light filtered through your curtains, casting a somber glow over the room. the sun’s early rays were a stark contrast to the storm inside you. you rose, your movements slow and weary, the exhaustion from the previous night clinging to you like a second skin. with a heavy heart and leaden steps, you prepared yourself for the day ahead—the day of your presentation.

the studio was quiet, save for the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead. you walked to your piece, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. the sculpture you had created—a delicate representation of butterflies and an outstretched hand—stood in the center of the room, bathed in the cold light of morning. the clay had been shaped with painstaking care, each butterfly a testament to your emotions, each wing a silent echo of your heartache.

you gazed at the sculpture, your breath catching in your throat. the butterflies, which had once been a symbol of your freedom, now seemed to mock your sorrow. their fragile wings, once vibrant and hopeful, were now a muted reflection of your internal struggle. the hand beneath them was extended as if in an eternal gesture of solace, yet it seemed to grasp at something forever out of reach. the piece was a paradox—a representation of the freedom you yearned for, coupled with the love you were leaving behind.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your teacher’s voice, cutting through the silence like a lifeline. “everyone's waiting,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. the words jolted you into action, and with one final, reluctant glance at your sculpture, you lifted it with trembling hands. the weight of the piece felt like an anchor, dragging you toward the theatre room where your presentation awaited.

as you entered the room, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. the space was filled with an array of faces—jihyo and jackson, their supportive expressions a stark contrast to the tension that gripped you; the professors from japan, their keen eyes scanning you with a mixture of curiosity and evaluation; and jungkook, who sat among them, his presence a palpable ache in your chest. he looked worn, his face haggard as if the night had been a battleground of its own. when the room fell silent, you began your presentation, your voice wavering as you started to speak. your gaze frequently flickered to your piece, but it was jungkook’s eyes that held you captive. the connection between you was electric, a silent conversation that spoke louder than words.

you began to explain your sculpture in intricate detail, your words a poignant reflection of the emotions you had poured into it. “the butterflies,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion, “represent the pursuit of freedom. they chase after an elusive goal, their wings a delicate dance of hope and struggle. eventually, after chasing freedom for so long, their wings began to wither. fall apart. they become weak, as they search for solace from the hand that awaits them,” each phrase you uttered felt like a resonating dagger piercing through jungkook’s heart, each description a painful reminder of what you were leaving behind.

the room’s ambient noise faded into a background hum as your focus remained solely on jungkook. the intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe, and despite the precision of your words, you could not hide the tears that brimmed in your eyes. the sculpture, which you had hoped would be a beacon of your artistic achievement, was overshadowed by the rawness of your feelings. as you concluded, your voice cracked with emotion. “all they’ve ever known was freedom,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper, “nevertheless, all they ever needed was love.”

the professors responded with polite applause, their approval a distant echo to the tumultuous storm of your emotions. Your heart was focused solely on the sight of jungkook, whose eyes were fixed on the sculpture with an expression of profound sadness. a single tear slid down his cheek, tracing a path that seemed to embody all the words left unsaid between you.

he turned abruptly, his face a canvas of heartbreak, and you watched as he walked away, your eyes following the path of his butterfly tattoo. the symbol, so intricately tied to your shared history, seemed to pulse with a haunting resonance. it was as if the butterfly was an echo of the love and freedom you both had chased, now left fluttering in the storm of your separation. the finality of his departure was a bitter pill, and as you stood there, the weight of the moment pressed heavily upon you. the sculpture, the presentation, and the love you were leaving behind melded into a poignant tableau of loss and longing.

the presentation room, once filled with the fervor of evaluation, gradually settled into a subdued murmur as the professors gathered their thoughts. their voices, though hushed, carried an air of reverence. one of them, an elderly man with a sharp gaze softened by years of experience, approached you with a warm smile. “your work is extraordinary,” he said, his voice rich with genuine admiration. “the way you’ve captured the essence of freedom and love through your sculpture is nothing short of brilliant.”

another professor, a woman with a commanding presence and a graceful poise, nodded in agreement. “indeed,” she added, her eyes sparkling with approval. “your piece speaks volumes. the subtlety and depth of emotion conveyed through your butterflies and the extended hand reflect an understanding of art that goes beyond technique. it’s a rare gift.”

you stood there, feeling their praise wash over you like a gentle tide. despite their words, a hollow emptiness lingered within you, a void that seemed impervious to their accolades. they continued, “we are pleased to inform you that the academy in japan has reviewed your work and welcomes your arrival as soon as tonight.”

the words were a formal acknowledgment of what you had anticipated, but they did little to stir excitement within you. you simply nodded, your face an impassive mask that concealed the whirlwind of emotions brewing beneath. your teacher, who had been a silent witness to the exchange, gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and empathy.

as you prepared to leave, jihyo and jackson were by your side, enveloping you in heartfelt congratulations. “you did it!” jihyo exclaimed, her voice a mixture of joy and sadness. “this is such a great opportunity for you.” jackson joined in, his embrace firm and reassuring. “we’re so proud of you,” he said, his voice heavy with sincerity. “this is your chance to shine, to make your mark on the world.” yet, amidst their praises and supportive words, you felt a profound emptiness. the accolades, the approval, even the opportunity felt distant, overshadowed by the weight of your own emotional turmoil.

just as you were about to leave to pack, jackson’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “wait,” he called softly. you turned to face him, curiosity mingled with trepidation in your eyes.

he took a deep breath, his expression a blend of melancholy and resolve. “i knew it would never be me,” he began, his voice steady yet laden with unspoken emotion. “when i saw your work, and when i saw jungkook’s tattoo, i understood that this was something i could never be a part of.” his words were an acknowledgment of the deep-seated truths that had been woven into the fabric of your shared experiences.

his gaze softened as he pulled a sleek black box from his pocket. “i have something for you,” he said, holding it out with a tender gesture. “jungkook asked me to give this to you.” with a final, gentle kiss to your forehead, he wished you a safe journey, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and resignation. “i’ll always be waiting for you,” he said softly.

you accepted the box, feeling the weight of it in your hand. as you turned to leave, the heaviness of your heart seemed to magnify with every step. the box felt like a tangible piece of the emotions you were grappling with, a silent witness to the complexity of your feelings. once you were home, the task of packing your bags seemed almost secondary to the allure of the box. you set your belongings aside, your gaze fixed on the small, unassuming container. the anticipation was almost unbearable as you slowly opened it.

inside, nestled in a bed of soft black velvet, lay a silver necklace. the pendant was an exquisite butterfly, its delicate wings capturing the light with a subtle sheen. the craftsmanship was impeccable, every detail of the butterfly’s form rendered with a delicate precision that took your breath away. your hands trembled as you lifted the necklace, the weight of it feeling like a physical manifestation of the emotions you had been suppressing. with a mixture of reverence and sorrow, you clasped the necklace around your neck. the cold metal brushed against your skin, and you could feel the butterfly resting over your heart.

as you fastened the clasp, the floodgates opened, and the sobs that had been building up erupted uncontrollably. the tears streamed down your face, each one a reflection of the anguish and longing that had been bottled up inside. the necklace, a symbol of love and departure, seemed to echo the pain of leaving behind the things and people you cherished.

you sank onto your bed, the weight of the necklace a bittersweet reminder of jungkook's affection and the heartbreak that had marked your journey. the room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a space where your emotions were laid bare, each tear a testament to the complexity of your farewell. the necklace glistened softly in the dim light, a silent witness to your sorrow and the new chapter that awaited you. as you lay there, the tears slowly subsiding, the butterfly pendant against your skin felt like a fragile promise—a delicate symbol of the freedom you sought and the love you had to leave behind.

the airport buzzed with the ceaseless motion of travelers, each with their own stories of departure and arrival, but for you, it felt like the world had stopped. every step toward the gate was weighted with the gravity of what you were leaving behind. the butterfly pendant lay cold against your chest, a stark reminder of the connection you still felt to jungkook, its delicate form pressed close to your heart.

the evening was draped in a shroud of melancholy, the terminal lights casting a pale glow over the bustling scene. you walked through the throngs of people, each stride a battle against the urge to turn back, to run away from the decision that tore at your soul. the departure board loomed ahead, and you searched for your gate, the numbers and letters blurring together through the haze of your emotions.

when you finally reached your gate, your heart sank. the moment had come, and the reality of your departure hit you with a force that nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. the weight of your chest was unbearable, the ache of leaving everything behind more than you had anticipated. your mind swirled with thoughts of jungkook, the memories of your time together interwoven with the pain of parting. just as you were about to resign yourself to the inevitable, you heard your name being called. it was a voice you would recognize anywhere, even amidst the cacophony of the airport. you turned slowly, your breath catching in your throat. there he was, running toward you with an urgency that mirrored the turmoil in your heart.

you stood frozen, unable to move as jungkook reached you, his breath ragged from the sprint. his eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and love, locked onto yours. “don’t leave,” he pleaded, his voice breaking with the weight of his emotions. the tears were quick to follow, faster than your words could form, streaming down your cheeks in a torrent of unspoken pain. he continued, his voice trembling. “i don’t just need you,” he said, his hands trembling as he reached out to cup your face with a gentleness that broke your heart. “i love you. i can’t bear the thought of you being so far from me.”

the background noise of the airport faded into nothingness as you sobbed, your vision blurred by the flood of tears. his touch was a balm to your aching heart, his words a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. he repeated himself, his voice steadying with conviction. “i love you.” in that moment, the world around you ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, standing at the precipice of a decision that would alter the course of your lives. you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold metal of the necklace against your skin.

“i love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible through the sobs that wracked your body. the admission was a release, a catharsis of the emotions you had held back for so long. you clung to him, feeling the strength of his love envelop you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in ages. but even as you surrendered to the moment, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered the harsh truth. you knew it wasn’t love, not in the way that was meant to last. it was a tempest of passion and pain, a connection born from the shared scars of your pasts and the unspoken longing that had drawn you together.

as you stood there, entwined in each other’s arms, you knew that this love, however flawed and fleeting, was all you had ever wanted. it was the reason your heart ached, the reason your soul soared, and as you buried your face in his shoulder, you made a silent promise to cherish this love for as long as it lasted, no matter how brief or bittersweet. no, it wasn't love. nevertheless, you were in love with him.

✧.*

a/n: if there's one thing i'm gonna do it's add jackson wang as a random side character...this was inspired by my favorite horror kdrama aka nevertheless

[yanderefics-recs]

Yandere/Dark! Cheaters Recs

for the readers who loves angst, groveling, and some spice like me <3

as of December 2023

The Unsaid Vow by @laughing-with-god (patreon/tumblr) (ongoing)

Remarks: you are married to Jungkook and you have a kid together. You suspect him of cheating however and when you try to leave he gets triggered

A Bird In A Gilded Cage by JUNMAK0 (ao3) (finished)

Remarks: your soulmate, Ushijima, has trust issues due to your past life and was initially not excited to meet you. Still, you grow to be in love but trouble ensues. (just when you think ushijima is healing he swerves around to the other side)

Yandere!Cheater hcs by @hyerinrose

brief sypnosis: a fun oc by hyeinrose

Hoax by @moonlitinks (tumblr) (ongoing)

Remarks: you're in an arranged marriage with ari levinson who has some prejudice about you and is repulsed by you (this one gets pretty dark in the beginning but lightens up as it progresses)

When you found out they cheated on you (hyung line) and (maknae line) by @wildestdreamsblog

Remarks: title is pretty self explanatory

When you tried to move on from them (hyung line) and (maknae line) by @wildestdreamsblog

brief sypnosis: a continuation of "when you found out they cheated on you" (groveling ensues 😈)

Yandere!Hero x Reincarnated!Reader by @bunny-yan

Remarks: the hero and reader are childhood lovers but it's not a cute story wherein they get to be together after the hero's job. The angst reoccurs in lifetimes (the concept of this one is pretty unique so i rlly recommend giving it a read :>)

Where did you go?, pt 2 by @ishouldbeinh0rnyjail

Remarks: gojo satoru got caught cheating by you and went insane trying to get you back (this one was delicious)

Fuckboy! Maknae line trying to convince you to stay by @yandere-society

Remarks: fun drabble! these men are toxic and assholes but it's kinda hot and they say they love you so... 😝

Man In The Mirror, pt 2 by Momo-chan (Quotev)

Remarks: another very unique concept! It's about you being in a loveless arranged marriage but you meet another you in a mirror that leads to a parallel universe

Superbia by alissabex (wattpad) (oneshot)

Remarks: good lord this one is memorable! Every now and then i come back to that oneshot. It's pretty long too so pretty satisfying!

Til Death Do Us Part by ASumOfWords (ao3) (oneshot)

Remarks: THIS ONE HITS EVERY FUCKING SPOT IM NOT KIDDING!!! I was in a particularly darker mood for this one sooooo yeah. Dark!Aemond hides his grief of losing his wife (aka you leaving his ass) underneath his anger. Lowkey wish there'd be more of his feelings in the piece but the author does pretty well with leaving it to the imagination

[magicshop]

jimin being a cutie in the 'for you' behind the scene ♡ for @jkvjimin

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 26

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 12.1k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence,

Masterlist

The taglist is now closed.

It was the second time Taehyung was in Jungkook’s atelier—only recently had Jungkook started thinking of it like that, before it was the atelier—but he was looking around him like it was a fairytale and everything was made of magic. Jungkook guessed he must have looked a little like that as well the first time you had shown him the room and told him it was his to do as he pleased. Athens and the Parthenon stretching on the wall never failed to inspire wonder and a deep respect in him, regardless of how long it had been since the first time he walked inside.

Everything else in the room was quite different from that first day. The once pristine and unused room was now splattered in paint. It was everywhere, on the floor and the cabinets and on the many newspapers that he used to cover everything. The first time he had stained the floor with paint, he had gone to you with teary eyes, lowered ears, and a hundred apologies on the tip of his tongue. You had simply laughed and told him that the room was his and he could paint the whole floor if he wanted to. The only thing you asked of him was to be careful of the wall painting. Jungkook would have never touched it in the first place.

Finished canvases were leaning against the cabinets and the walls. Most of them were of places Jungkook found beautiful, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon, a neighborhood in Amsterdam he had seen in one of your photos. There were also a few paintings of the pack, you and Seokjin cooking in the kitchen, Yoongi playing the piano, Namjoon and Hoseok under the large tree in the garden, Taehyung with Alice at the lake, and Jimin smiling so wide his eyes turned into crescent moons.

Jungkook longed for Jimin with an insatiable hunger. Now that he had gotten a taste of him once and Jimin told him he wanted it, now that there was no guilt and anguish, he couldn’t get enough of him. He wanted to always be touching him, holding him, and scenting him. His scent was like an aphrodisiac to him and he was addicted.

However, when Taehyung had shyly asked about his atelier, he was compelled to show it to him. It wasn’t often that Taehyung asked for anything and although he hadn’t specifically asked to see the room, Jungkook knew he would like it. Taehyung’s smile was also addicting and rare like a precious gem. So, he had left Jimin with Seokjin to cook in the kitchen and had taken Taehyung’s hand and climbed down the stairs. His hand was soft and he could still feel its ghost on his palm.

He was right, Taehyung’s smile was worth it. It was a tiny one, a small curve of his lips, but it was stunning.

His tiger ears twitched when his eyes landed on the painting of him. He approached slowly, taking it in. A hand reached out but he drew it back before it could touch the canvas.

In the painting, Alice was grinning brightly at Taehyung, one of her rainbow butterfly hair-clips clipped on his dark hair. But what Jungkook loved the most about it was Taehyung’s smile. For the first time, with Alice, Taehyung looked genuinely happy. The painting didn’t do the moment justice, he hadn’t managed to capture the tiger hybrid perfectly. He had taken a picture of the two of them and used it as reference but it was difficult, almost impossible, to immortalize Taehyung’s beauty in that moment.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook asked gently.

Taehyung startled as if the painting had enchanted him and Jungkook’s voice broke the spell. He hugged himself with one hand, almost like he wanted to stop himself from touching the painting. “It’s… beautiful.”

“It was a beautiful moment,” Jungkook agreed. “Alice is incredible, right?”

Taehyung nodded slowly. “I… have it. The butterfly. She doesn’t want back… it.”

They both looked at the painting. Jungkook wasn’t sure if they were seeing the same thing but maybe they were.

“Do you want to paint again?” he asked, breaking the silence. He took down the half-finished canvas of a beach from the easel and replaced it with a blank canvas.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to agree this time. They picked up different brushes, chose a few tubes of oil paint and set themselves to work. Jungkook showed him how to paint a sunset—he had perfected the skill through a lot of observation and many YouTube videos. Taehyung seemed to have fun blending the colors and drawing the shapes of semi-transparent clouds.

They stayed in the atelier for a few hours until they were called for dinner by Hoseok, whose heart-shaped smile at seeing them together in their paint-splattered clothes rivaled the beauty of the sunset. After the meal, Jungkook asked if Taehyung would like to take the painting of him and Alice to his room. They hung it on the wall with Yoongi’s help and went back to the garden together.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were filming at Monmouth Manufacturing for the day. They were the last couple of scenes you would be filming there for Season 1. Hopefully—and most probably—, you would see it again next year, or the year after that, filming for Season 2. First, you would have to finish Crooked Kingdom and then towards the end of the year, maybe you could work on the Raven Cycle. Your schedule was already crazy and you were troubled about what that meant for the next year.

A headache was brewing behind your temples and you were trying very hard to ignore it. You had been at the studios since 6 o’clock in the morning and you were going crazy. It would be one of those 15-16 hour days. You could see it coming. The executive producer of Paper Hearts had called to tell you that you were desperately needed for a board meeting for the next season. They had changed the time of the meeting to later in the afternoon to fit your schedule, which proved that it was important. You dreaded the drive to the other side of Los Angeles and what was sure to be a very long discussion.

During your lunch break, you texted Namjoon that you would be late again. He didn’t say anything but you knew he was disappointed. He had to be. You had barely spent any time with them in the past few days. There were also matters you still had to discuss. You hadn’t told the other hybrids about the thing between the three of you and they deserved to know. Your headache got worse just thinking about it.

You flipped through the script during a small break, sipping on your third cup of coffee of the day. It was making you jittery but the other option was falling asleep in your chair.

“Okay, I think we are good to move on to the next scene,” you told Will. “And then we’re done for the day.”

“Should I get someone to call the actors?”

“Yeah, see if they are done with makeup and send them in.” You rolled your neck and let out a heavy sigh. “All things considered it’s going pretty well.”

Will chuckled as he motioned for someone from the staff to come closer. “For someone who’s been here since six, you’re doing remarkably well.”

You waited for him to send the man to fetch the actors before speaking again. “We’ll see about that when we’re done with this scene. If I’m on my feet and awake by then, I deserve an award.”

Will shrugged, leaning back on his chair. “I’ve seen you do worse. Do you remember when we were filming ‘The Grand Masquerade’ in Prague? You were running on three hours of sleep a night for a week. I thought you would fall asleep during filming and wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days.”

“I was younger then,” you shrugged it off. You eyed the script again, focusing on your notes. “ I don’t have the same energy.”

“It was three years ago.”

“Three years can be a long time.”

You could understand that better than anyone, considering that this year sometimes seemed like a decade to you. In a year, your whole life had changed. You were different, everything was different from last year. Three years could be a very long time, indeed. But also the blink of an eye.

One of the actors arrived and you both greeted him. Soon, he was swept away by the movement director.

“I think you need another break,” Will declared in all of his dramatic glory.

You tapped your long nails on your plastic cup, the action was strangely soothing. “I think I need another coffee.”

“You certainly need a break,” Will insisted. “And you certainly don’t need another coffee.”

He had noticed your restlessness, then. “We just came back from a break. And there is no time for another one. After we are done here, promotions for Six of Crows begin then there is the premiere and the tour and they are getting everything ready to begin filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts. And Crooked Kingdom is next year and I am very behind on that.”

Will’s face did that thing he did whenever he was done with you, his features slacking like he was bored and a little irritated. “You can’t be behind on something that hasn’t even started yet. Be serious.”

“I am. Deadly.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Break. You need a break.”

The rest of the actors arrived then and the subject was dropped in favor of going over the details of the scene with them. They took their places and filming began. There was a place where the scene kept being snagged and you had to go over it four times to get it right and five more to perfect it.

By the end, you were running like you were being hunted to find John and drive to the company building. The meeting as you had expected was long and tiring. At least, it was a productive one. You discussed the script, the new additions, and the schedule. You shared a few worries and disagreements you had and you mostly managed to find the middle ground. Another meeting would be held in a week before filming would officially start in a few weeks.

It was past eleven when you opened the door of the Castle. No one was in the living room, which was to be expected.

“I’m back!” you shouted, even though no one would hear you if they were in the garden. The night was warm and your skin felt stifling. Sweat dotted your forehead and the change of temperature, when you walked inside the air-conditioned Castle, sent a shock through your system. Your legs had turned to stones and you struggled to take off your shoes.

All you wanted was to fall asleep. You opened the balcony door and shouted again that you were back and that you would be in your room. You closed it before you could hear any replies.

In your room, you had to force yourself to change into your pajamas instead of falling face-first onto your bed in your dirty clothes. You didn’t have the energy to take a shower like you usually did at the end of the day. Your appetite had also disappeared. You hadn’t eaten dinner but you weren’t hungry. You were taking off your makeup in the bathroom when there was a knock on your door.

For a moment, you debated not answering but you dismissed the thought instantly.

“Come in,” you called. “I’m in the bathroom.”

You heard the door open and close again. You dragged the cotton pad roughly across your face, you didn’t have the patience to be gentle and it left your skin red. Some days it was just too sensitive.

“Are you alright?” The care in Seokjin’s voice tugged at the tight knot in your chest, loosened it. You glanced at the door but he wasn’t there.

Most of the makeup was gone from your face and you looked like a mess. You threw the cotton pads in the bin and washed your face quickly to get rid of the mascara under your eyes and any stubborn residues of makeup.

Seokjin was standing by your vanity, waiting for you. It wasn’t often that he came to your room. You weren’t used to seeing him there but it felt right.

“For someone who has been running around for more than sixteen hours, I am peachy,” you tried to joke but the delivery was lacking. It was confirmed by Seokjin’s frown.

“That’s too much, even for you. That isn’t healthy.”

“It is what it is,” you said, trying not to sound defensive. “It isn’t something I haven’t done before. And tomorrow’s schedule is easier so it’s alright.”

That didn’t seem to do anything to ease his mind. “Because you did it before, it doesn’t mean you should keep doing that.”

You rubbed your temples, your headache was getting worse. “There are things that need to get done. I can’t just stop because I’m tired. I get calls all day and my inbox is full of emails I haven’t answered yet. I have a million things on my plate, I can’t ignore them.”

“I know,” Seokjin said, his tone softer. He came closer to you and took your hand in his. The touch was grounding. You hadn’t realized you were spiraling until your feet were planted on the earth again. “We know how important your work is and how much effort you have put in to be where we are. It’s admirable and it’s incredible that you’ve managed to do all this. But your health is important too. You can’t keep running with an empty tank. You need to rest too.”

You heaved a sigh and let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. Your nose wasn’t as sensitive as a hybrid’s but breathing in the familiar sweetness calmed you. He hugged you and drew you closer to him, his hand kneading the tense muscles of your shoulders and the back of your neck.

“We missed you,” he said almost in a whisper.

“You always miss me.”

Seokjin stayed quiet but you both knew. They always missed you because you were always gone.

“You should eat something before you fall asleep. Yoongi and I made gnocchi with prosciutto and parmesan and garlic bread with mozzarella. I can bring it here but I think it would be best if you ate in the kitchen. Everyone wants to see you but they don’t want to bother you.”

The simple act of going to the kitchen sounded like climbing a mountain. Your bed looked too attractive, only a meter away and very very soft. Your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep and yet…

“I’ll come to the kitchen,” you said. Having woken up at five, you hadn’t seen anyone before leaving. The thought of not seeing them at all today left a sour taste in your mouth. “But can we stay here? For a bit?”

Seokjin placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Of course. For as long as you want.”

You lost track of time in his arms but no more than five minutes must have passed by the time you pulled back with a heavy heart. A temporary balm had been applied to the ailments of the day. You could hold yourself up for a few more minutes to eat a little, you had been doing it all day.

Your legs were as heavy as concrete walking to the kitchen. You had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, otherwise, you might just collapse. There was noise coming from the kitchen but your tired mind couldn’t register what they were saying.

You were surprised to see that everyone was there waiting for you, even Taehyung. Yoongi placed the plates in front of your seat and Jimin added the cutlery. Everyone else was sitting around the table in their usual stools.

Their greetings were quieter than usual and you guessed that they were conscious of how tired you were. You gave them the warmest smile you could master and patted Hoseok’s hair as you passed by to take your seat. The aroma of the food made your stomach growl, you hadn’t realized how hungry you had been before. Your appetite was back. Everything looked incredible as always and you couldn’t wait to dig in.

“Are you all just going to look at me while I eat?” you asked, picking up your fork.

The hybrids looked sheepish at your question.

“We just wanted to see you,” Jungkook said. “You left too early in the morning.”

You had to compose yourself to pierce a couple of gnocchi with your fork and not sigh out loud. Yoongi’s eyes were heavy on you, they were the ones you could detect with the most ease. You were the most aware of him.

“I had too much to do today. They have been bugging me from the studios for days. If I didn’t start early, I would have never finished. And I prefer an early morning to a late night. I tend to work better in the morning.”

You forced the fork to your mouth. You were ravenous but the conversation stalled your appetite.

“I would think that this was considered a late night,” Namjoon pointed out.

The taste, as expected, was heavenly. The creaminess of the parmesan sauce was tied perfectly with the savory crispy prosciutto. In your condition, you felt like it was wasted on you. As hungry as you were, you just wanted to put your fork down and go to sleep. But you couldn’t do that. You were better than that, you could eat something and then you could go to sleep. You could do that, you had done this before. Hadn’t you?

“This isn’t a late night,” you said after you swallowed the delicious bite. You had to eat another one. And another one. “Late nights can be anything from three a.m. to the next morning. This doesn’t happen often but I really had too many things to do. This is just for a few weeks because we’re moving very fast with the Raven Boys and filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts will start soon. There are a lot of meetings and things they need my opinion on, it will actually be better once filming starts. They don’t need me as much then.”

You pushed the gnocchi around and you could tell they didn’t believe you without looking at them. It was true that your workload was heavier these days but you couldn’t exactly guarantee that it would get better soon. Filming for the Raven Cycle had been going exceptionally well and it was moving faster than you had originally planned. It would be wrapping up by the end of September or by early October at the latest. Wrapping up was a lot of work, the beginning and the end were the busiest parts.

The rest of autumn was going to be very difficult too. There was the premier as well, which added to your workload greatly. It would take up all of November and the work for it would start from October. Maybe December would be calmer. Maybe.

You ate the rest of your meal in relative silence. They didn’t talk more about you leaving early and coming back late although you knew they wanted to. Their voices were quiet as they talked about anything from witches in cartoons to color theory. You let their words play in the background like the sound from a TV as you tried to eat as much as you could.

The result was a half-finished plate of gnocchi and one less garlic bread with mozzarella. Your eyes were closing involuntarily by then, staying closed for longer periods each time. If you didn’t go to sleep now, you would fall face-first into the gnocchi.

You slid off your seat and balanced yourself on numb legs. “Thank you for this, it was delicious. But I really need to go to sleep now.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin said, glancing at half of the food still on the plate. “You should rest.”

“At what time do you start work tomorrow?” Yoongi asked. He had been silent during your dinner and his voice rang louder than the rest to your ears.

It must have taken a few seconds to navigate the fog in your mind before you could answer. “Filming starts around nine, so I should be there by eight. Half past eight at most.”

“That’s still too early,” Hoseok said, frowning.

You waved their worries off. They had better things to worry about than the job you had been doing for half of your life. “It isn’t too early. I can sleep for a decent number of hours before I have to get ready. It’s alright, really. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams.”

With effort, you dragged your body to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning on the lights and stumbled to your bed guided only by the moonlight. There wasn’t a point in closing the blinds when you would wake up around the time the sun was rising. The light of your phone was too bright in the darkness and it made your eyes sting as you set an alarm.

A few messages caught your attention but a knock stopped you before you could open them.

“Come in,” you called, setting your phone aside. The door opened and the light from the hallway slipped in, outlining the silhouettes of the two hybrids. “Is everything okay?”

They both nodded and Jimin took a few steps into the room. “Can we sleep here tonight?”

“Both of you?” you asked, half-suppressing a yawn. Unlike Jimin, Jungkook hadn’t slept in your room before and the only time you had shared a bed was in Virginia.

Jungkook’s bunny ears drooped. “I can go, I don’t mind. I just missed you.”

“Sorry, that isn’t how I meant it.” Your surroundings were a bit blurry, the minutes stretched but were also impossibly short. It felt a little like life was a dream when you were tired like this. “Come in, both of you. And close the door behind you. It is blinding me a bit.”

They hurried inside and did as you told them. You couldn’t see them well as they moved through the darkness. They surrounded you, lying on different sides. Jimin didn’t hesitate to draw closer, throwing an arm over your stomach. Jungkook was a little stiffer on your left like he didn’t know how to situate himself. You found his hand, intertwining your fingers, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips.

It felt right, lying between them. Like that was how it was meant to be. But maybe that was the exhaustion talking, the dream realm slipping into the waking world.

“I missed you too,” you whispered. “Now sleep. I have an alarm set for the morning.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Summer bled seamlessly into autumn. The change wasn’t apparent in the Castle, autumn had only arrived in name. The heat was still there and would remain for some time. During the days, it still made sweat drip down your temples the few times you filmed outside the studios but the nights were comfortable and moon-bright.

You had a couple of hours free between takes and nothing to do so you got into your car (John had taken the day off to spend some time with Alice) and started the engine. “Nothing to do” was a relative term of course. There were many things you could be doing, countless extra little tasks that crowded your thoughts, but you disregarded all of them. You had been spending whole days away from home and you were beginning to feel guilty about it.

On your way back, you stopped by your favorite homemade gelato shop. In San Diego, you had gone for gelato the first day and the hybrids had loved it. You had made it a habit to get gelato at the beginning of each day during ComicCon, it was your little ritual. You had ordered gelato a couple of times to the Castle as well but with eight people, it didn’t last more than a day.

There were dozens of flavors behind the display case, all of them looking delectable. You got a wide variety, remembering the flavors they liked the most. You picked hazelnut, tiramisu, chocolate chip cookie, almond, caramel, coconut, cream and sour cherry, nutella, and vanilla and asked for 1 kilo of each to be delivered to your house. It was too hot and your house was too far to transport them in your car.

You didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes outside the gate before the delivery boy arrived. You got the bags full of gelato containers from him and sent him off with a hefty tip. The Castle was a long way from the heart of the city and anyone willing to make deliveries there deserved a nice tip.

Unlocking and opening the door was a struggle but you managed. You shouted you were back and fast-walked down the stairs, the plastic bags digging into your hands. On the second level, you were faced with Jungkook, who was also climbing the stairs to reach you. He looked as if he was ready to attack you with a hug before noticing the bags.

“A little help?” you asked, raising the bags a little higher. Your arms protested loudly.

Jungkook quickly took most of the bags from you and if you hadn’t been the one carrying them before, you would have believed they were light as a feather with the way he was holding them. “What are all these?” he asked, peeking into the bags. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened in realization when he spotted the containers. “Is that–?”

“Gelato,” you said, a little proud of yourself for thinking of making the stop on your way back.

Jungkook’s steps turned into little hops. “You are the best! How much did you get? Are these all different flavors?”

“You will see…”

Jungkook made a sound close to a petulant whine. “Come on,” he said, dragging the vowels. “What are they? Did you get hazelnut?”

“We’re almost there. You’ll see in a minute.” The garden was coming into view as you climbed down to the last level but Jungkook still turned back to pout at you. “Dramatic bunny,” you muttered lowly but not low enough for his enhanced hearing not to pick it up. You didn’t mind, his giggles were cute.

At the bottom of the stairs, Namjoon and Seokjin were waiting for you.

Seokjin squeezed your wrist in greeting before saying, “He is a very dramatic bunny.”

“Hey! You should be on my side!”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?” And that set off a round of bickering as they walked to the table to set down the bags.

Despite your protests, Namjoon took the last bags from you. “You should accept a little help from time to time,” he said firmly. You knew that he meant it for more than this. You decided to ignore it for now, you would overthink this later.

“Everyone, gather around! I brought gelato!” you called.

In a few minutes, everyone was gathered around the table. Hoseok, upon seeing the many containers of gelato, had done a happy dance, kissed your cheek and ran upstairs with Seokjin to get bowls and spoons. Jimin had wrapped himself around your back and was licking his lips, which was highly distracting. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.

Taehyung was the quietest one, as he usually was. He was sitting next to Yoongi, looking at all the containers with parted lips.

“I got gelato for us,” you told him. “It is really good. I got a lot of flavors so you can try as many as you want.”

“Gelato,” Taehyung repeated softly, gazing at the containers spread over the table.

Hoseok and Seokjin arrived with eight bowls, too many spoons and three ice cream scoops—you didn’t even know you had that many—and set them down around the table. You busied yourself with opening all the containers. You already knew which flavors you wanted so you grabbed one of the scoops and served yourself three scoops of ice cream.

Jimin had hooked his chin over your shoulder and wasn’t making any move to serve himself. That was up to you then.

“Which flavor do you want?” you asked him, dipping the scoop into the cup of water.

He rubbed his cheek against your shoulder lazily. “Hmmm, I think I want to try a few before I decide.”

You decided to indulge him, you liked it when he got playful and joked with you. You preferred when he was confident and asked for what he wanted. It was beautiful to witness how much he had changed through the months. You dipped a spoon into the flavors in your bowl first and brought them to his mouth. He savored each spoonful, humming and licking his full lips. He was so close to you, if you turned completely your noses would touch. How did you always end up in these situations lately?

“I want that too,” Jungkook said, pouting and pointing at your spoon. He was sitting at the bench and he had his own bowl in front of him, filled with four scoops of gelato.

“You want almond?” you asked.

“No, I want to be fed too.”

“You really are a baby,” Seokjin said. “Is that what’s going to be happening now? Whatever one has the other wants too?”

Jungkook looked away, taking his spoon again disappointed. “No, it just looked nice. It felt nice to be cared for when we were at the lake. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I just wanted to ask.”

At the lake, you had been feeding them strawberries dipped in chocolate and your mind had run too wild. You should stop thinking about that. “I want to, you are just a little far. I can’t really reach.”

Jimin was about to say something, probably offer a solution but before he could, Seokjin had picked up Jungkook and plopped him down in his lap.

“Here, I will feed you, you big baby. Is this alright?” he asked, ever caring.

Jungkook squirmed a little but seemed pleased, a light flush settling on his cheeks. “Yes, of course.” He was as tall as Seokjin but in his lap, he looked much smaller. He opened his mouth obediently when Seokjin brought the spoon to his lips.

Your eyes strayed to Taehyung, you were hyper-aware of him whenever you were in the same place. His eyes had that look that you couldn’t understand, it was there every time you interacted with the other hybrids lately. They were telling you that he was opening up more these days but to you, he remained a mystery.

In the end, Jimin ate most of your gelato and you scooped some chocolate chip cookie into your bowl because you knew how much he liked it. Hoseok and Namjoon closed the containers and carried them upstairs, they returned and went to sit by the pool. Yoongi finished quickly and lied down under the shade of the tree closest to them. Jungkook grew sleepy and turned to the side, laying his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. Jimin joined them, hugging Jungkook from the side.

Taehyung stayed at the bench like he wasn’t sure where he should go, his empty bowl in front of him.

“Did you like it?” you asked, gesturing to his bowl. Another reminder of your shortcomings, you didn’t even know how much he had progressed in English.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. The low timbre of his voice surprised you each time. You heard it so rarely that you didn’t get the chance to get used to it.

You should make an effort to talk to him, avoiding him would only make matters worse. But you couldn’t find anything to say. What exactly could you say to him, who had lived most of his life like a caged animal, who you had bought at an illegal auction?

Suddenly, you had the equivalent of a light bulb lighting up next to your head in a cartoon.

“Hobi told me you liked the painting of the pomegranate in the gallery,” you said then realized that pomegranate was probably a word he couldn’t understand and proceeded to explain the painting. “It has glass around it and a hand is holding it. Am I making sense?”

Seokjin looked at you amused but Taehyung nodded in understanding. “It is beautiful.”

“Right, it is,” you agreed. “The artist, the one who made it, is holding an exhibition in LA. We could go if you would like.”

You had bought the painting from her long before her fame had grown and spread. There was a magic to the way Eliana Velasco painted, everything came alive under her brush strokes. The painting of the pomegranate had enchanted you and given your history, you had to have it.

“Go?” he repeated, clearly confused.

“Yeah, to a place that has many of her paintings. You can see them there. Would you like that?” Talking to him, you were more nervous than at any of the award shows you had attended the past few years, more nervous than during any contract negotiations.

Taehyung’s eyes widened a fraction before he nodded. “Can I… see them?”

“Of course,” you said.

Jungkook stirred against Seokjin’s shoulder. “Are we going to an exhibition?”

“If you want to.”

“Are you going to be there too?” he asked and that was harder to answer. Your schedule was the busiest it had been in months and you were drowning in deadlines and responsibilities. You were saved from answering him by a notification on your phone. The numbers displaying the time showed that you were late to leave. You pocketed your phone and with quick goodbyes, you disappeared.

 You were so stupid. You had offered to take Taehyung to an exhibition when work was wrapped around you like a noose. But you had panicked. Eliana had sent you an invitation for the opening night, promising there would be French champagne and hors d’ oeuvres. You had attended plenty of her exhibitions and had many conversations about art and life and their inter-connected philosophy while drinking champagne or wine and staring at paintings.

Although Taehyung’s situation was solved and Amelia had let you know some time ago that legally you were safe, going to the opening night didn’t sound like a good idea. There would be many journalists there who would love to write a piece about you and your sudden decision to adopt so many hybrids. They could go without you another day, that wouldn’t be too bad. Taehyung looked so hopeful and now that you had said it, you couldn’t take it back. You could text Eliana and ask her if she could meet you there one day so you could introduce her to them.

You should try and get some time off.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It was like a curse, to not be able to sleep in the very few hours you could afford to. Your bed was empty and cold and you couldn’t get comfortable regardless of how much you twisted and turned. Your limbs were too long and awkward and nothing felt right. All the wild thoughts you couldn’t be bothered with during the day showed up one after the other to be examined from every angle and set aside to pick up the next one. It was a losing battle and yet you insisted on fighting it every time before giving in, getting up and popping a pill into your mouth.

You returned the bottle to the cabinet and closed it. After Seoul, for some time it had returned to your bedside table but after a couple of weeks had passed it felt like you were admitting defeat by keeping it there. The image in the mirror was a far cry from the celebrity you were supposed to be. The darkness under your eyes formed bruises, getting worse by the day. Your skin had grown pale and your hair was a mess, you hadn’t had enough strength to braid it before attempting to fall asleep.

You considered going back to bed but the pills could take up to an hour to work when your insomnia reached its peak and you were craving a snack. Something small and sweet sounded nice.

Once again, you had returned late and eaten dinner alone. Your appetite was lacking although the food was delicious. Sometimes, it got like that when you were too tired. You had promised yourself to limit early mornings and late nights but that had changed when you had texted Eliana about the exhibition. She had offered to accompany you to the exhibition on one of the days it was closed to the public and you were more than thankful to her but that also meant that you would have to take half the day off.

The TV was on in the living room, subtitles displayed at the bottom of the screen with no sound. Namjoon was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and watching with distracted eyes. Everyone else had departed to their rooms for the night. His ears twitched as you took a few more steps and he turned to look at you.

You waved your hand, trying to offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He sat up straighter. “Hi. Why are you still awake? Do you need something?”

“Just some water. Maybe a snack.”

“You were really tired when you went to bed. Did you not fall asleep?” he asked, frowning.

You shrugged. “I couldn’t. It’s one of those nights. If I eat something, maybe I will fall asleep easier. A full stomach and all that.” You didn’t mention the pill, it was awkward to do that. “Don’t let me disturb you. I’ll just grab something and go back to bed.”

Namjoon got up and in a few strides, he was standing in front of you. He caressed your cheek, searching for something in your eyes. You weren’t sure what he could see there. “I’ll join you. Let’s sit together for a bit. I haven’t seen you properly in a few days.”

“But you must have stayed back to watch that,” you said. A documentary was playing on the TV, something about Egyptian history.

“It doesn’t matter. I would rather spend my time with you. Unless you don’t want to, then I’ll go back to the couch and be very quiet.”

You slid your hand in his, the touch grounding you in a night that felt both like you were wide awake and caught in a blurry dream. “I would like some company. I’ve missed you too. I’m–”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. There is no need for that.”

He leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered for a few moments, warmth spreading inside you. You raised your head and captured his lips in a kiss. The worst part was that you couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had last shared a kiss. His lips were velvet as you remembered them. This was home. Running back and forth, you had forgotten what it felt like.

You pulled back and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

In the kitchen, Namjoon stood next to you as you rummaged through the cupboards for something that looked appetizing to you. The cupboards were full and yet nothing was calling to you until Namjoon remembered that Seokjin had made ice cream sandwiches with the gelato you had bought and various kinds of cookies. That sounded like heaven so you opened the freezer and chose two of them.

You leaned against the counter, shoulder to shoulder with Namjoon, while you devoured them. Gelato might not have been the best idea to put you to sleep but they tasted heavenly. The pill would start working sooner or later.

“Is it worse today?” he asked. He didn’t elaborate further, he didn’t have to.

The ice cream sandwiches were gone and you were left holding the plate. You licked your fingers and placed it in the sink. “I have a lot of things on my mind. I should be too tired to think but apparently, I’m never too tired for that.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Everything, more or less.” You turned to the side, facing him. “There’s too much to think about and not enough time. Never enough time,” you muttered the last sentence to yourself. If you had all the time in the world it would still not be enough, you would find a way to fill it. “I’ve been putting everything off. Everything I don’t want to deal with or I don’t know how to deal with. And the longer I put it off, the worse it gets.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, taking in what you said and pondering how to reply. It was beautiful, how his mind worked and how attentive he was. “If there is any way we can help you, anything I–we can do, we will. Whatever you want to do, we will support you. Sometimes, in our head, we can make things look bigger, more scary than they are. Do you want to talk about them? Maybe if you talk about what you have to do or what you’re worried about, it will be easier to work out the best way to approach them.”

That was something your therapist used to tell you, that while things festered in your head, they would only get more tangled and more daunting. She had suggested writing them down or talking to her about them. She was right, you knew she was right and that it helped and yet you hadn’t stopped to do that.

You took a deep breath, debating if it would be better to find a notebook and figure out your mess on paper instead of dragging Namjoon into it. But there was a part of you that itched to confide in him and give in to the way you felt safe when you were together. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” you confessed.

You started slowly, with your usual worries about Taehyung, how he was adjusting and how little time you were spending with him and if that was for the best. It was the same old spiralling, you had poked and prodded at it so many times and Namjoon must have been bored of listening to the same rehashed concerns, yet he didn’t interrupt you. You unravelled steadily, once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. There was the filming for the Raven Cycle, the final touches of Six of Crows, the premiere and the weeks of promotions and the anticipation for the reviews of the critics and the audiences. The book you hadn’t finished and the deadline you couldn’t meet.

You rubbed your hands over your face. It had been so long since most of those problems had surfaced and you were ashamed that you hadn’t faced them yet. “And we haven’t told anyone about us. We said we would and I know you’re waiting for me but I’m never here. And I don’t know how.”

Namjoon caught your hand and brought it to his lips. Lowering it, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. They will understand and they will be happy for us. You shouldn’t let this keep you awake, everything will be alright. They are our pack, this won’t change anything.”

“But…” The anxiety that persisted. “Yoongi. What if his reaction is… bad. You know what he said.”

“That was before.” He sounded sure but there was a tightness at his jaw. “It is different now. He is different, you can see it. He is softer around the edges, he even helps Jin in the kitchen. He’s settling in.”

 “Because he doesn’t know,” you said. “You remember what he said, right? That night? That I adopted you so I could take my pick and now there is Jin and it’s just too much like that, can’t you see it?”

“It’s nothing like that. We both–” Namjoon stiffened, his gaze locking somewhere towards the entrance. “Yoongi?”

Your heart rate sped up, a knot forming in your chest. Yoongi walked in, his socked feet not making a sound. How much had he heard? The last minutes of the conversation replayed in your mind in a panicked mess. What had you said? How long had he been there, listening to you, before Namjoon noticed him? What conclusions would he reach?

Instinctively, you tried to get away from Namjoon but his hold on your hand kept you there.

The panther’s face didn’t give anything away. You couldn’t read him regardless of how much you studied him. You didn’t know his tells, if he had any. His expression was a carefully curated mask of apathy and you couldn’t see past it. Or you didn’t dare to try. Maybe you were too afraid of what you would find.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, voice missing some of its smoothness.

Namjoon held your hand tighter. “You are the only one who can sneak up on me.”

You swallowed down your anxiety and tried to think of him the way he was the past few months, when he helped you with rearranging your office, him playing the piano in the afternoons, your walk at the lake, the vague memory of him helping you up to your room when you were drunk in Virginia. But they were all pushed back by the memory of his snarl and his sharp teeth that night.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, forcing your voice to be steady. He was going to learn of it at some point and as scared as you were, you had to face this.

“Enough.” His tail curled behind him and stilled. “You are afraid of my reaction to something. Is that it?”

Your eyes locked with Namjoon’s and he nodded. This time you weren’t going to run. This time would be different. “Yes, there is something we wanted to tell you. Something we wanted to tell everyone. I didn’t know how to tell you, that’s all.”

“You can tell me now,” he said and it sounded almost like a dare. You weren’t sure if you were walking into a trap.

Namjoon spoke up before you could. “You remember that the two of us are… We are together, as humans would say, romantically.” Yoongi nodded. You couldn’t imagine how he could forget. “That extends to Jin now. We love him and he loves us.” It was almost like he was challenging him to say anything but Yoongi was quiet.

“We didn’t know how to tell everyone. And you…” You didn’t know how to finish.

He scoffed. “I was an asshole.” One side of his lips was twisted up but something about it hurt. “You didn’t want to tell me because I was an asshole when I found out about you two. Worse than an asshole.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, his shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. For a moment, you wished to reassure him but what he was saying was the truth. “I understand. I’m not– I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry.”

He turned to leave but, through your confusion, you knew you didn’t want him to go.

“Wait,” you called. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Let’s talk. We need to talk.”

Yoongi looked at you over his shoulder. This time, you studied him without your heavy-duty lenses, without the fear of discovery. Like the expression of an actor, you picked apart the tiniest details to paint a picture. When your own barriers were gone, it was easier to see.

“What is there to talk about?” he asked.

“A lot. Things we should have talked about sooner.” Communication was a golden rule in your handbook and you used to be good at it, you tried to be good at it. The misunderstanding trope was overused and useless when the issue could be resolved with a simple conversation.

It was about time you stopped walking on eggshells.

“We never truly talked about it,” you started. “And I didn’t really want to because things were going so well. They are going well. But you are my family now.” His lips parted, only slightly but you caught it. “I can’t know how all of you see it, if it’s the same for you, but that’s the way I feel. And I want to be honest with you. I still think about what you said in the garden and sometimes it affects me more than I would like. However, I would like to put it behind us but I want to know what you think.”

His eyes were sharp but you weren’t fooled this time. “Can we? Can we really put it behind us?”

 Namjoon was silent next to you, he was letting you handle it.

“I think we are already beginning to.” You took a deep breath in preparation. There was a question that could make or break this peace between you and you were both dreading and dying to ask. “Do you think that I’m taking advantage of them because I love them romantically?”

His eyes widened. “No,” he denied sharply. “No, of course I don’t.”

It was like a knot unravelling in your heart. Although there was a part of you that had known, the relief was still there. “Then we can move past it. We can try again. We are already trying again.”

“How?” Yoongi asked and he sounded smaller, much smaller than you were used to.

The pills were beginning to act, it was a light drowsiness at first. You had to do this quickly before you fell asleep and crumbled down on the floor.

“The same way we are doing now. By doing our best.”

“I am trying” His hands clenched into fists and loosened again. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You don’t need to be. Not anymore. As long as I know that we are fine.” Your eyes were growing heavier and the fog was slipping in. “I think we should go to bed now,” you said. It was getting more and more difficult to open your eyes.

You must have stumbled or something because you heard Yoongi ask, “Are you alright?” at the same time as Namjoon’s “Do you want help?”

You waved them both off. “I’m fine. It’s the pills.” It was easier to admit when you were almost asleep. One moment your feet were on the floor and the next you were up in the air. “Joon?”

“I’m taking you to your room. It’s time for sleep.” One of his arms was under your knees and the other was holding you close to his body.

“Namjoon, I can walk,” you protested weakly. Namjoon shushed you and you let it go. You were so incredibly sleepy and you were safe there. You relaxed in his arms and finally closed your eyes.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Most of the flowers were drooping in the garden of the Castle. Namjoon and Jimin were attempting to keep them alive for as long as possible before fall swept them away. They cut off the dead leaves, watered the plants and applied the appropriate fertilisers. There were also varieties that lasted all year and the gardener had taught them how to take care of them too.

“These won’t last much longer,” Jimin said, running his fingers gently over the petals of a slowly wilting flower.

“They will bloom again in spring,” Namjoon reassured him. “Each season has its beauty and these belong to spring and summer. Autumn has its own colors too but they are different.”

Jimin pulled his hand back and grabbed the watering can. “I know, but I will miss them.”

Namjoon patted his head and Jimin preened under his touch, chasing his hand. He was too cute sometimes and Namjoon adored him. “It’s okay to miss it but you can also be happy about the new things that are coming. Miss Roberts said she will bring sunflowers and hydrangeas to plant next week, it will add some color. When something ends, something else begins.”

Jimin giggled, watering the flowers although they would be dead next week. “Nora has told you many times to call her by her name.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. “I forgot. I’m trying.”

Yoongi came out of the house, a book in his hand. He had been visiting the library more lately. Namjoon had been wondering where he had been. The rest of the pack had holed up in the cinema room to watch a comedy and, like the two of them, Yoongi had opted out but they hadn’t seen him since.

“Yoongi!” Jimin called, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the watering can. “Come here. Sit with us, we are almost done.”

Yoongi paused, glancing at the table and benches on the other side of the garden.

“Come on,” Namjoon called for him as well. That was enough to sway Yoongi’s decision, who made his way to them.

Jimin bounced up to him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the flower bushes they were tending to. Yoongi grumbled about the rough treatment but Namjoon wasn’t fooled, the upturn of his lips was small but unmistakable.

Jimin explained to him what they had been doing so far and Yoongi listened to him attentively.

“They are beautiful. You have been doing a really good job. Both of you,” he said, his eyes darting to Namjoon.

He was tense, it wasn’t obvious but Namjoon could pick it up. He gave him a smile, hoping he would relax. Yoongi confused him but he thought he could understand him a little better now. “Thank you. What are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” Yoongi raised the book a little and shrugged. “I saw it and I thought it was interesting.”

“I haven’t seen that before,” Namjoon said.

The cover was painted in shades of yellow and orange, framing two pyramids. Without saying anything, Yoongi handed him the book. It was called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it was a relatively short book. He turned it around to look at the synopsis and Jimin peeked at it over his shoulder. Namjoon wondered if you had read it or if it had been sitting there unread on your shelves for years. There were so many books in your library and you had admitted that you hadn’t read most of them, but you had also told them that once upon a time you used to read a hundred books a year.

“It does sound interesting,” Namjoon commented, passing back the book. “You should tell me if it is any good when you finish it.”

Yoongi looked down at the book’s cover. “I will.”

Jimin declared that they were done with gardening for the day and grabbed both of their hands, pulling them to the shade underneath one of the trees. They sat down and he situated himself with his head in Namjoon’s lap and his legs in Yoongi’s. Yoongi cracked open his book and began to read while Jimin talked about flowers.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

“And… CUT!” you called. It was repeated again by Will and the actors relaxed, the expressions of their characters wiped clean. “That will be it for today. Thank you everyone!”

The crew buzzed as the cameras and the sound systems were turned off. People were talking to their earpieces and others were giving pats on the back to each other for another successful day on set. Crew members passed by and offered their congratulations to you.

“What are you rushing for?” Will asked.

You continued throwing everything carelessly into your backpack. “I’m visiting the gallery today, remember?”

“Right, that’s today,” he said, snapping his fingers. Some things stuck with you in entertainment. For example, the overexaggerated gestures. “I thought you had a company meeting dressed like this. A very important one.”

In the morning, you had put more thought into your outfit compared to a simple filming day. You were wearing tan trousers and a form-fitting black top embellished by a crossover belt that wrapped around the body and was tied together with a golden Medusa head emblem. The heels, the golden earrings, bracelets, and rings confirmed that filming wasn’t the only thing on your schedule.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder (you would switch it later with a black Dior bag you had in your car). “No meetings for me today. I really have to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Have a good time, boss!”

You greeted any familiar faces on your way to your car and sent a quick message to Namjoon that you would be picking them up soon. The 8-seater car was an impulse purchase at a time when you had a larger friend group. You hadn’t used it much, only for a couple of short trips to private beaches.

You checked your appearance in the visor mirror and reapplied some powder and lipstick. You looked good enough, there wasn’t much more you could do.

The hybrids were waiting by the fountain. They had dressed nicely for the occasion, wearing some of the more formal outfits you had bought for them. You could feel the excitement in the air as they climbed into the car. It had been a long time since you had gone to the city like this. Jimin was quick to slide into the passenger seat, followed by a little happy dance at his success.

The exhibition was taking place in Central Los Angeles, housed in a tall and wide building that appeared to be made up of several cubes that jutted out of the main structure. Jungkook and Hoseok had their phones out, taking photos of the strange building. Distantly, you remembered coming here before but you couldn’t place when or why.

Eliana was waiting for you inside wearing a simple flowing blue dress and a large smile. You greeted each other with a hug and proceeded to introduce the boys to her. She shook their hands enthusiastically and in a few seconds she had already engaged them in a conversation about art. Usually, she talked quickly like she was rushing to get everything out before she forgot but she was talking slowly now, using simpler words and waiting for Hoseok to translate whenever he deemed he should.

She guided you through the gallery, floating ahead of you. She gave explanations of some of her works while she let others speak for themselves. Taehyung’s eyes were sparkling while she talked, in a way you had never seen before. His smile stayed on during your whole visit, big and boxy, and you finally felt like you were doing something right.

The other hybrids seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. Namjoon was asking plenty of questions about the meaning behind the paintings and her inspiration and Jungkook was very interested in the more technical aspect of her work. She readily answered all of their questions and when you pointed out that Jungkook spent a lot of his time painting, she encouraged him to show her some of his work. Although he was shy, hiding behind his floppy ears at first, Eliana managed to convince him to show her a few of the paintings he had on his phone. She was stunned when you told her he had only been painting for a few months and Jungkook grew even shier when she showered him in compliments.

At the end of the tour, she let you wander the gallery by yourselves for some time and then suggested going to the gallery’s gardens to hang out. The gardens were of considerable size, about as large as the inside of the gallery. Neatly trimmed flower bushes lined the pathways and plenty of modern sculptures decorated the space. A large fountain stood proudly in the middle and there was an artfully made gazebo raised on a platform at a far corner, overlooking the gardens.

You offered to go get some coffee and some baked goods from a nearby bakery/coffee shop you had found on the internet. Eliana protested at first but she gave in quickly at the promise of an iced Spanish latte and muffins. Namjoon volunteered to accompany you, although what surprised you was Yoongi offering to come along.

“You need more than two people to carry everything,” was the only explanation you got. You couldn’t deny that he was right.

He hadn’t been acting any different towards you since you had let him know about the nature of your relationship with Seokjin, so you acted the same way you always did too. His quiet acceptance was more than enough for you and it was a great weight off your shoulders.

You were talking about the exhibition, not surprised that Yoongi had been paying close attention to the paintings as he recalled his favorites, when a call of your name surprised you. The voice was familiar and, for a few seconds, you couldn’t place it. Until you could. And the peace froze over.

You turned around to find Jacob waving at you in the quiet street. His hair was cut much shorter than the last time you had seen him and his white loose pants and half-unbuttoned shirt made him look like he had just stepped off a yacht party. Maybe he had. His thousand-watt smile, reminiscent of a politician, was fixed firmly on his face.

“Hey, I knew it was you,” he said when he caught up with you, like he had won a prize. He pulled you into a quick hug and you didn’t know what to do with your hands until he let you go. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

You wiped invisible dust from your trousers. “Yeah, I’ve been very busy.”

“You were never  one for rest, right? The woman always running, always working, never has time for anything else,” he joked and it shouldn’t bother you the way it did. He gestured to Yoongi and Namjoon, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Namjoon looked politely curious and Yoongi downright uninterested.

“Right,” you said. “This is Yoongi and Namjoon. And this is Jacob.”

Their eyes sharpened the moment you uttered the name.

“I’m just Jacob now?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “After three years? Not even a friend?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t like we’ve spoken since last year.”

Initially after your breakup, you used to imagine how your next meeting would go and how the two of you would act around each other. Three years was a long time to share your life with someone to then go back to being strangers. You hadn’t entertained the idea much since then, you had found yourself thinking about him less and less. Still, whenever you thought about meeting him, you hadn’t anticipated the bitterness that grazed your insides.

Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you said you were busy. I have been busy as well, I’m working with a few very big names, you know. I got my hands on some of the best songs of the year.”

“I’m sure they’re great.”

“Haven’t you listened to any of them? You must have heard a few of them. They were everywhere.” Jacob was talented enough and well-connected and he sure liked to brag about it. “I asked Zayn and he said you were doing well, working of course. And you got yourself some company too.”

You clenched your jaw to bite back the harshness burning on the tip of your tongue. You hated the way he said it and the way it reminded you of your mother.

“It was a bit of a surprise, I’ll admit. I don’t remember you ever talking about adopting, you didn’t seem a big fan of the idea. No offense of course,” he directed the last part to Namjoon and Yoongi.

“Things change,” you said dismissively. “We have to go. There are people waiting for us.”

Jacob’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes narrowed a fraction for only a second. He may only be part of your past but you could still read him well. Was it the same for him? Had he ever been able to read you in the first place?

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.”

You turned around and started walking, Namjoon and Yoongi following you. Last year you loved him enough to move in with him and this year you couldn’t stand to be in his presence. You thought you would feel nothing when you’d see him again but the truth was that everything about him irritated you. His poised smile, his bragging, his nonchalance.

Why was he able to get under your skin like this? You were over him, you didn’t want anything to do with him. But you were supposed to be civil, uninterested like the heroines who didn’t raise more than an eyebrow in the direction of their exes. It irked you and the way he looked at Namjoon and Yoongi irked you more. You had defended him to everyone, he wasn’t a bad guy, he didn’t treat you badly but as time passed you were starting to realize some things you couldn’t see clearly before.

Yoongi was the first one to speak up when you had almost reached the coffee shop, “What an asshole.”

“He isn’t–” You stopped yourself and laughed. “You know what? He is, a little bit.”

“A little bit?” he repeated, doubtfully.

“I don’t want to judge but…” The way Namjoon paused told you everything you needed to know. “I had to try very hard to stop myself from growling at him.”

Yoongi smirked. “Down, wolf.” Namjoon ignored him.

“Thank you for not doing that, that wouldn’t have ended well. Please, don’t growl at people.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that.”

Well, you couldn’t say that you minded that much. You could admit to yourself that Namjoon growling was kind of hot. And if the situation called for it…

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you,” Namjoon said. “It was weird. There was something about it that was wrong, almost demeaning.”

“He can be like that sometimes. Like he is above almost everyone else, like some things are beneath him. He would make those stupid comments and I would always try to ignore them,” He was always supportive of your career and proud of your success but he had never shown interest in any of your other hobbies and likes. Reading was boring, paintings were overrated and overpriced, drinking tea was pretentious. “I never thought I would be one of those shit-talking their exes unless they did something really bad.”

“I support this shit-talking,” Namjoon said.

“I do too,” Yoongi agreed.

It made a strangely pleasant feeling run up your spine. “We’re here,” you said, instead of continuing the conversation. According to Google Maps, you had arrived at the coffee shop.

As you walked inside, you might have heard Yoongi saying lowly to Namjoon, “I kind of wanted to punch him.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were sitting on the chair in front of your vanity, braiding your hair and stuck thinking of the same scene. Before going to his room for the night, Taehyung had approached you and thanked you for taking him to the exhibition. His expression was sincere and you finally felt like you were moving in the right direction. 

When there was a knock at your door, you already knew who it was before you called for them to come in.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” Jimin asked, Jungkook draped over his back.

“When have I ever told you no?” you asked, finishing your braid and securing it in place with a silky scrunchy. “Go on.”

They both hopped on the bed, bouncing a little and sharing delightful smiles. You watched them through the mirror as they rolled around, holding each other.

Jimin looked up from where he was tangled with Jungkook, holding your gaze through his reflection. “Are you coming?”

“I am, I am,” you said, putting your brush back in the drawer.

You joined them on the bed, their hands quickly reaching for you and situating you between them like the last time. Jimin purred in contentment, rubbing his face in your collarbones. Jungkook held onto your arm and you could feel his breath caressing your neck with how close he was lying. 

An unwanted echo of what Jacob had said entered your mind.  Always working, never having time for anything else or anyone else, even the ones most important to you. You were gone most of the days and it made sense that they wanted to be close to you at least at night.

“Did you have fun today?” you asked them to distract yourself. 

“I loved it! Eliana was so nice and her paintings were incredible,” Jimin said.  “I took so many photos, my phone must be full of them.”

Jungkook nuzzled up closer to you. “I took many photos too. Can we print the one we took of us all together? I want to put it in our room.”

“Yes, please,” Jimin added cutely.

“Of course. You should print a couple more too, if you want, and choose some pretty frames for them. There is a lot of free space in your room.”

They cheered a little. You lied there in comfortable silence but you could detect a nervous energy in the air. It was in the way Jimin was fidgeting with the hem of your silk night shirt and how tightly Jungkook was gripping your arm. You waited until they were ready.

“We actually… we have something to tell you,” Jimin said.

“Anything you want, kitten,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. You could see how the use of the nickname affected him, squirming a little as his smile grew sweeter. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I just–” He looked at Jungkook, who gave him an encouraging nod. “I kissed him, we kissed. And… it makes me very happy.”

Jungkook caught Jimin’s hand that was pulling at your shirt and intertwined their fingers, laying their joint hands on your stomach. “He makes me very happy too,” he said in a small voice.

The new knowledge was like a puzzle piece sliding into place. It felt natural to you that their relationship would progress like that. The way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other, was evidence of a deeply intimate connection. If the image your mind conjured of them kissing lit a spark in your chest, you hid it even from yourself.

“Thank you for telling me. If it makes you happy, then I am happy too. All I want for you is to be happy and know how loved you are. Come here.” You pulled them closer and placed lingering kisses on their foreheads. “I will always support you. Always.” You took a decision then. You couldn’t put it off any longer. “I have something to tell you too. Jimin already knows but Jungkook, I would like for you to know too. I don’t know how to say this exactly and I’m sorry we’ve kept this from you but I, Namjoon and Jin have been romantically involved. All of us. We have been kissing too.”

“Oh.” Jungkook paused. “That makes sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, Jimin joining you. “I mean you’re very close and it just makes sense. We’re pack and I think that most packs are a little in love with each other, in one way or another,” he said. His cheeks felt hot against your shoulder.

In one way or another. He was right, it was such a special bond and you could imagine that for hybrids who felt the sense of pack deeper, the lines were easily blurred. A door opened in your mind but you closed it again forcefully.

Jimin fit his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you. I love you so much, all of you. Our pack. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you. I don’t know if I deserve this.” His voice was wet.

“You do,” you stated. “You deserve everything and more. And we love you so much. So much.”

Jungkook squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jiminie. Our pack wouldn’t be complete without you. We need you to be whole. We need everyone.”

Their hands remained linked over your abdomen as you fell asleep.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

[myg-butterfly]

Nothing New

Ot7! BTS x Choreographer! Reader (Seokjin x Reader focused)

Summary: You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

Tags: ANGST (sorry), eventual fluff, Injured!Reader, Fem!Reader, Bangtan are kind of assholes, this isn't really proofread sorry, I also don't know how this shit actually works with Idol groups so I'm just making shit up lolsies.

A/N: HI omg sorry this took FOREVER. I was gonna have this done this weekend but we went to go visit family so I put this aside omg, but it's finalllyyyy here! I hope this lives up to your expectations. Thank you for all the love on the teaser, and remember, comments and feedback are always soooo appreciated!

Taglist: @bangteezbaby @thelilbutifulthings @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @juju-227592 @kikz165 @plexcaffeinate

All the members had just gotten home from rehearsal, and immediately went to find you just so they could throw silly little tantrums about you not being there.

The way they were pouting reminded you more of kicked puppies than world-wide sensations.

"It's fine guys, I know someone who can cover for me until I get better."

"But we like your choreography better." Taehyung whines into your shoulder and you pat his head in comfort.

"It's just a month or two, Tae."

You had broken your leg about a week ago, and consequently, you couldn't continue choreographing for the group until you were fully healed.

Which meant either the boys paused their learning, or you brought someone else in to cover for you - and you're all aware that pausing isn't really an option.

"But I'll miss you." Your boyfriends were overly dramatic, acting like you were leaving even though you all lived together.

"You'll still see me at home, it's not like I'm dropping off the face of the earth."

He huffs into your shoulder and rolls over so he's sitting next to you normally now.

"Anyway, how have you been? Have you felt okay?" Seokjin sits down on the other side of you and you feel yourself growing a bit shy under his caring stare.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

•••

"Hi! Thank you so much for covering for me. We're on a reall-"

"Save it, it's whatever. I always told you you'd need my help again at some point."

You don't like the implications in her tone but you pass it off with a small chuckle.

"Okay, so they already know 2 out of the 5 numbers for this album, and we were in the middle of learning the 3rd one. I taught it to Hoseok in advance so he can take over for that one. So you wouldn't need to be at the studio until next week. I'll send you the videos I took of the foundation of the other 2 numbers so you can learn it and then teach it."

She looked so uninterested in what you were saying, but you had to be professional.

You called her here in the first place.

"Kay, cool, got it. Also, can I get the guys' numbers? You know, just in case."

"Oh uhm, you can ask them when you see them next week… I'm not sure if they want me giving out their numbers to people they don't really know."

"Well they're gonna know me soon right? Don't be greedy, trying to keep all of them to yourself."

She giggles but you can feel that it's not really one of genuine giddiness and you hope that your discomfort isn't apparent.

"I'll ask them when I see them later today."

You plaster on the best smile you can and she gives you an equally forced one back.

"Okay. Bye!"

She basically struts away and you're left standing there; maybe calling her was the wrong move.

•••

Yep. Calling her was probably the wrong move. But it depends on which side of Y/N you ask.

On the professional side, this is absolutely great. They hit it off right away, all the boys growing comfortable with her rather quick (something HYBE valued a lot), and she was great at her job. Talented, bold, confident, friendly, the whole package.

On a more personal side, this was putting you on edge. How suddenly, all the guys would talk about was 'Joanna said this a rehearsal' or 'Joanna invited us out to eat'. It was always Joanna this Joanna that, and you knew they were just excited to have a new friend, to have someone who shares their passion, you couldn't help but wonder if their feelings for you were simply out of excitement. And now that you're not the newest thing around, would they still want you? Would they still talk about you with the same sparkle in their eyes as they do with Joanna? It left a pit in your chest.

And — yeah, calling her was the definitely the wrong move.

Finally, a long-awaited date with all of you. They were filled with energy, talking and joking on the ride there, and you felt your heart growing lighter, you still had them.

They even helped you get off the car with all the gentleness in the world, helped you get in your seat and made sure you were completely comfortable.

The lightness quickly weighed down into something much heavier when you saw Joanna walk in and make her way to the table.

And the weight felt like it had been dropped to you feet when the guys scooted to make space for her, Namjoon even standing up to hug her and letting her sit first so she'd be in between him and Jungkook.

How long has it been since they hugged you with such happiness?

"Oh my god, Y/N, hi! The boys didn't tell me you would be here."

Something about the way she said "the boys" made your hands itch, almost as much as your throat itched to say 'likewise'.

"Welp. I'm here. Haha."

Dinner wasn't fun, to say the least.

Joanna was blatantly saying shit to embarrass you the entire time, and it even worse, your boyfriends seemed to be soaking up her every word, laughing whenever she pointed out something embarrassing about you when she knew you in high school.

"Yeah! And when we choreographed together, she would always forget her parts." She lets out a giggle and Hoseok laughs too: what's so funny?

"It was only once or twice." You groan, mostly to yourself, but Joanna hears it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Everyone laughs at her words again and suddenly, you start to think that staying home was the better option.

"I've always said she has the memory of a goldfish. Sometimes it felt like I was doing all the work because i constantly had to step in and help when Y/N froze up."

She turns to you when she speaks her next question:

"How are you doing now that I haven't been here to clean up after you? Are you making Jimin do it?" She laughs and nudges Jimin, who's sitting next to her, on the shoulder, and he happily shoves back with a bright smile on her face.

"I'm fine, it's rare that I forget stuff lately."

She gasps in a dramatic manner, you wish she would just disappear already.

"You? Not wasting time in rehearsal? Because you forgot? That's unheard of!"

You hate the way pretty much all of the guys laugh at her words: they know how much work you've put into being a good choreographer. Why were they laughing at you?

Suddenly, you feel the person next to you pressing up closer against you: Seokjin.

You look at him and he has a soft smile on his face, but not towards Joanna; his entire focus is on you.

"You have a really good memory darling. We can tell you've worked on it." The knot in your stomach softens its grip after hearing Seokjin's words, and for the first time since you got here, your smile is genuine.

"Anyways, how'd you injure yourself?"

"Oh, we were doing some cardio and I tripped. Fell at an awkward angle and it twisted my leg. Haha."

Joanna laughs a little too hard at this.

"I've always also said that for a supposed dancer you sure are clumsy as hell."

Some of the guys giggle at her comment, and you look down at your lap: why were they laughing at you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin sit up a little straighter, and you suspect he's gonna say something.

"Supposed dancer?" He raised a brow and to most people, it would've seemed like he was just egging onto the joke, but you and the rest of the table could tell that there was a serious undertone to his question.

It was no secret in your relationship with the guys that Seokjin had a specific soft spot for you – in a relationship as big as yours, its bound that all of you will have your weak spots for one another: Jungkook and Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung, Hoseok and Yoongi, you and Seokjin.

So you were more than relieved when he met your gaze from across the table; he knew you were uncomfortable.

And as everyone knows, he's not one to stay quiet.

"I just mean it's surprising that for someone so clumsy she went into the professional world where coordination is crucial."

Jungkook uses this point to tease Namjoon, and thankfully the attention is taken off of you. You catch Seokjin's stare again and this time it's accompanied with an apologetic smile and him reaching out his hand to hold yours.

As your hands meet on top of the table, you seem to be the only one who notices the look Joanna sends you at the display of affection.

•••

More days pass by and everyday they get home later and later until you're left going to bed on your own.

You'd made it a habit to wait for each other if one was out late, but it didn't happen often since you had almost the same working hours and when you went out, it was usually altogether.

You'd tried to keep that habit after your injury, but they were coming home later everyday, and you weren't sure you had it in you to keep staying up for them.

Especially on nights like this one, where when they do get home, you're dismissed almost entirely.

The door opens and you sit up, ready to greet them one by one with a hug and kiss, but most of them just mumble a "hey" or "hi Y/N" and walk straight to their rooms.

Only Jungkook and Seokjin genuinely acknowledge you, Jungkook giving you a hug and a peck on the forehead accompanied by a soft "Hi baby." before going to his room as well.

Seokjin also hugs you, but he picks you up while doing so: shifting you in his arms so he can carry you to bed with him.

As he begins to walk, your eyes meet and he sends a soft smile your way.

You barely start to relax in his hold when you realize that he's walking into your room, and you slightly panic at the thought that he's going to leave you alone in there.

Your slight panic turns into franticness as he sets you down and steps away from the bed.

"No! Don't-" Jin whips around at the sound of your voice, and you feel immediate guilt when you see his startled expression.

"Sorry, I- I know you're tired. Sorry, you can go."

Your attempts to decrease his worry don't seem to work, because he's already making his way back towards your bed.

"No, no. What happened? Whats wrong?"

"Its nothing." Seokjin gives you a stern look, you both know that lying to him is impossible.

"It's not nothing. Is it your leg? Or is it something else?"

"Its stupid" you mumble.

Noticing that you're unsure of yourself, he sits closer to you and brushes you hair out of your face in attempts to comfort you.

"Its not stupid if its bothering you" you feel your tears welling up again at how soft Seokjin's voice is. How soft he is with you.

"I just- I don't think I can be alone right now." You lean into his touch as you finally get at least some of the truth off your chest.

"You don't have to be. I was going to shower, do you want to join me?"

"I don't want to bother you."

"You won't."

"But my leg, I won't be able to stand for long."

"It's okay, we'll bring a stool in and I'll help you."

"But you're tired-"

"Never of taking care of you."

Something in your heart settles through the rest of the night, there is no other intention behind Seokjin asking you to join him.

He washes your hair and even dries it once you're out, he helps you get dressed and he goes to sleep holding you, and even if it's just for one night; all is right in the world again.

The next morning, Jin wakes you up and asks you if you'd like to come to rehearsal with the 7 of them. You're elated, to say the least. You knew it was a minimum thing, but your heart couldn't help but flutter at the thought that they wanted you around.

•••

Jin on the other hand, is pissed. Not at you, (never at you), but at his 6 boyfriends and how absolutely dense they could be, this being one of those moments.

He'd mentioned that you were coming with them, and all of them responded well: "I hope she likes the choreo!" "Yay! I want to hear what she has to say."

Their response to you tagging along wasn't the problem, no.

It was their response when he tried to tell them about how you were feeling that pissed him off:

"Wait guys, before we leave, I need to talk to you about something real quick."

All of them were attentive towards him immediately, so he thought they'd receive this better.

"It's about Y/N. And partially Joanna."

"Okay?"

"I talked to Y/N last night and she seemed upset. She didn't really want to talk about it but I'm almost completely sure that she's feeling left out, and I think it may partially be because of Joanna."

All of them begin to speak at once, until Taehyung's voice cuts through everyone else's.

"Why do you think it has something to do with Joanna?"

The 6 boys settle down and stare expectantly at Jin.

"Have you guys not noticed how backhanded all of Joanna's comments are towards her? Even when Y/N isn't present, she always makes a joke at her expense. And not to mention, we've been spending a lot of time with Joanna, much more than we've been spending with Y/N. I know if I were her I would feel hurt; being injured and spending the whole day cooped up alone while my boyfriends are spending all their time with someone who treats me like dog shit."

Jin wasn't sure what he was expecting the boys' reactions to be, but it definitely wasn't the outraged faces they were all giving him.

Jungkook is the first one to respond:

"I mean, I noticed the comments but I thought they were all in good fun? You know, since Y/N and Joanna have been friends for such a long time."

Taehyung cuts in next:

"And if Y/N is feeling left out, I mean I understand but what does that have to do with Joanna?"

Almost as if on cue, there's noise coming from the kitchen, meaning that you're awake.

Jin quickly gets up to go to you, but not before leaving the 6 boys with one final word, "Just pay attention to how she speaks to Y/N, you'll see what I'm talking about."

•••

It's hard to describe – the knowledge that you're being left behind without any obvious evidence surrounding you.

It's not something that everyone outside of your point of view might see, but you can feel it cutting through you deeply.

Not being able to do what you love, and on top of that, not being able to spend time with the people you love, it's a shattering feeling that claws through your chest.

Which leaves you where you are now: in the car with the rest of the boys on your way to rehearsal.

You thought that maybe being back in the studio would relight the spark that made the 7 men drawn to you in the first place, but even the car ride there felt cold and almost uncomfortable.

•••

The atmosphere changes the moment you step foot in the studio. It feels lighter, somehow. You don't know how to feel, not with the voice in your head insinuating that this lightness is because of Joanna; the guys are more at ease with Joanna than they are with you.

You usually hate being wrong: but now, you wish you could say the voice in your head was being irrational, yet you can't. Not when you turn around and see everyone besides Seokjin and Yoongi - who are off conversing to the side - gathered around Joanna, happily talking to her.

When did they stop looking at you like that?

Finally, she takes notice of your presence and makes her way over to you.

"Y/N, girly! Hey! Are you here to learn?"

You don't respond, confused as to what she's trying to ask you.

"Ya'know? Learn from the best! We've been so productive with this number."

She responds like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you almost feel offended at what she's insinuating.

"Oh, um- I'm here to see what the guys have done."

Joanna blinks at you, as if your answer threw her off, before continuing.

"Oh. Ok then. Cool! And are the boys cool with that?"

You can tell, she wants this to sound passive aggressive. Kind on the surface, but a clear jab at your insecurities.

Jungkook quickly cuts in;

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be cool with that?"

Joanna stutters through her response, being caught off guard by Jungkook as she thought no one had heard her remark.

"Oh! I don't know, you might get distracted? You know?"

"We'll be fine."

This time it's Jin who answers, and even if it's a little selfish, you're glad that his tone towards Joanna is automatically cold.

"Okay thennnn!"

She turns to you:

"But if you start being a distraction I'll have to ask you to step out. Heh, step out. That's funny."

She giggles at her little joke (at your expense), and makes her way into the practice room.

Rehearsal continues as usual, and you feel a bit lighter as the boys all make jokes and include you while they stretch and warm up.

They start to run through the choreography, and your heart swells with pride seeing them dance; all their hard work really does pay off.

As much as you wish to get up and dance with them, or even get up at all, you know you can't. But just seeing them perform will do.

Once they finish, you start to clap and Jimin and Jungkook turn towards you with a playful vow.

"Its looking really good guys!"

All of the boys respond with a 'thank you' and a smile.

"I do have a couple pointers about some things I noticed-"

"Okay, let's run it again!" Before you could finish your sentence you're cut off by Joanna's squeaky voice.

Thankfully, Hoseok cares about what you have to say, and the rest seem to agree as well.

"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N had to say."

"Yeah! It's felt weird learning a brand new number and not having any of your input on it."

"Y/N, go on." Seokjin is the one who speaks last, and the look in his eyes tell you that things will be alright.

"Ok, so first thing make sure you guys are agreeing on your directions, make sure that it's either a complete diagonal or if its a slanted move so you all move the same direction-"

"Oh yeah, I explained that to them already, they know." You're once again cut off by Joanna.

You use this as a chance to tease the boys, as you always normally.

"Oh, then why are y'all making that mistake huh?" Your tone is playful, and you see Hoseok step towards you with all the intent of playing along, when a gasp coming from your right stops you both.

"Did you come in here just to criticize?"

Of course it's Joanna.

"Wha- no. I was just teasing them. The dance looks grea-"

"I told you you were gonna distract them, and what did I say I was gonna do if you got them unfocused?"

"I didn't mean to, I was just giving pointers-"

"I've been teaching them for the last few weeks, I know what they need to focus on right now."

"But I know that it can look cleaner than it did right now."

"Well this is my choreography! I know what's best! You don't get to come in here and just start shitting on my work because what? You're jealous?! You think you're better than everyone else?!"

You're taken aback when Joanna starts to scream at you, so much so that you try to step back, completely forgetting that one of your feet is injured.

As you place your foot down, a soaring pain strikes from your foot all the way to your thigh. A sob escapes you and that's when Jin's protective nature kicks in full force.

In the blink of an eye, he's crouching next to you and picking you up while everyone else in the rooms stands frozen in place.

The ice is shattered when a wail comes from somewhere else in the room: it's Joanna.

Everyone's head whips to her direction, but for very different reasons.

Jin, for one, is beyond disbelief that she'd go as low as fake crying to get the attention back on her.

The rest of the guys seemed concerned, but not because of her. Rather because they just saw her true colors, how Jin was right, how they'd neglected you.

Seokjin picks you up and rushes out the door, leaving everyone else in the room frozen.

•••

You don't really process anything that happens afterwards. You just know Seokjin is with you as you go to the doctor to get your foot checked out, and that's enough to push you into a state where you know you can space out.

You couldn't comprehend it, how you were hurt and the rest of them weren't there.

Did they even care you were hurt?

It didn't make sense, that you were asking yourself this. When had things gotten this bad? How could they have let thing get this bad? It left you aching more than your injury, and you think that shouldn't even be possible.

When you get home, you find all the boys kitchen, a mess everywhere -much to Jin's despair- attempting to decorate what you assume is a cake. They're all focused to the point where they didn't hear you come in, and if they did, they're really good at acting like they didn't. You want to hide in your room, maybe ask Jin to hide with you, play into their ignorance, but the petty part in you is much quicker.

"Joanna doesn't like cake."

You speak without thinking about it first, and it's clear that none of them were expecting a comment like that, not even Jin, because their heads whip around instantly to you.

You panic for a little, thinking they'll get mad, but Hoseok and Yoongi start laughing at Namjoon's terrified face, at the maknae line looking like they're deer in headlights, and at Jin's round eyes.

Before you know it, They're all running up to you, and Seokjin has to grab you by the waist to make sure they don't knock you over.

They all speak at once, and you can only make out some things like "are you okay? what did the doctor say? im sorry." What cuts through all the rambling is Namjoon's smooth voice, sounding a bit exasperated as he speaks: "The cake is for you Y/N. We were making the cake for you."

Oh.

"Joon! You ruined the surprise!" Jimin stomps his feet, but you know he's not actually upset.

"Well we couldn't just let her think that we were baking a cake for fuckin Joanna!" Namjoon defends himself.

Yoongi steps in front of the two and turns to you, "It was supposed to be a 'Surprise / I'm sorry / We love you / Get well soon' cake but you got here before we finished."

His genuinely dejected demeanor makes you giggle, he looks like a sad cat.

"It's okay-"

"No it's not. Cake or not, we're all really sorry- hold on, we should sit down for this." Jungkook grabs your hand and leads you to the couch, the rest following suit.

You all sit in silence for a second before Hoseok speaks up:

"Well I guess I'll start." He sits up a little straighter so he's facing you directly, and you feel nerves run through you: was he upset? Was he going to scold you?

The guys seem to notice how you tense up, because Hoseok's face falls a into a small frown, while Jungkook scoots closer to you and Jin places a hand on your thigh.

"Y/N, I am so so sorry for the way we've been acting, and the way we haven't been acting. You got hurt under our watch, we should be the ones taking care of you, no questions asked, and we've failed to do that. There's really no excuse for how inattentive we've been. In our heads, or at least my head, I didn't really see you all day, so I thought that everything was okay because I still got to wake up to you, I still got to come home and feel comfortable knowing that you were here: we had your company. But I failed to return that company, we all failed to give you the bare minimum, and I truly am so sorry."

For the time you've know Hoseok, you've only seen him cry once or twice, so when you see tears start to fall from his eyes, it shakes you up and down. Before you can go console him, Jimin speaks up from where he sits beside Hoseok.

"Hobi's right, Y/N. We didn't pay you enough attention. We were too worried about ourselves to consider how our actions looked to you. The whole thing with Joanna, we did spend a lot of time with her, but even then, all we did was talk about you. Not in a bad way, obviously, but you just always came up in conversation. I don't know why I thought that talking about you would translate as 'we're still giving you our attention' as if you could read our thoughts or something. But again, we were selfish and careless, and I can't apologize enough for how we acted."

You appreciate Jimin's attempt at lightening up the mood, and you appreciate his words overall.

The next hour goes by in the same manner. The boys apologize one by one, not to just you, but to Seokjin as well, and before you know it, there's no one in the room that isn't crying, all of you a teary and snotty mess.

"We love you so much, Y/N. Please let us make it up to you. I love you so much." Yoongi's the last one to speak, and he finishes while walking up to you and bowing at your feet.

The rest of the guys join him, even Seokjin, and you don't know what else to do except throw yourself on the floor with all of them and cry.

The night ends with all of you cuddled up on the floor, until Namjoon and Jin make you all get up so you could go lay down properly.

They guys don't let you walk, no, Jungkook carries you while Taehyung and Jimin squish at his side in an attempt to stay close to you.

You all manage to squeeze into a single bed with you in the middle, hands everywhere trying to keep you close.

You feel warmer than you have in weeks, and meanwhile the guys do have a lot to make up for, with arms wrapped around you and sweet nothings floating in the room, you think this is a great start.

[bloody-bee-tea]

A truth for a truth

Shouta can tell that something has Shinsou agitated the moment the boy steps into the gym. He doesn’t even try to hide it, which makes Shouta think that for once maybe surprise wins out over fear or pain and the need to hide them, like it so rarely does with Shinsou and yet Shouta still waits until he’s standing right in front of him to speak.

“What?” Shouta asks, not worrying about his tone in the slightest because Shinsou has been training with him for weeks now, so the kid knows how Shouta operates.

And they have found that usually less words work well between them. As if to prove him right, Shinsou huffs out an annoyed breath before he looks Shouta in the eyes.

“Your hell-class has accused me of being your kid,” he states, and it prompts a frown from Shouta.

“They know I teach you. That would make you one of my problem children as well,” Shouta easily says, because he’s long past pretending that he doesn’t use the moniker with great fondness but to his surprise Shinsou shakes his head.

“No, I mean—they accused me of being your actual love child, with an as of yet unnamed woman,” he clarifies and oh. Yeah, okay, that makes more sense, considering that his hell-class is involved.

“As of yet?”

“That guy with the double quirk certainly has theories,” Shinsou almost spits out and Shouta bites back a laugh.

Yeah, Todoroki has shown a tendency to obsess over one tiny detail for far too long and then come up with the most outlandish theories. It’s kind of hilarious, most times, so Shouta fails to see how it could agitate the kid so much.

“And that upsets you?” he asks, because he’s not a mind reader, despite what the rumors say and Shinsou huffs out another breath.

“What upsets me is that half of your class nodded along with that guy’s outlandish theories but then they laughed all straight in my face when I told them that it’s highly unlikely, seeing how you and Mic-sensei are almost disgustingly married.”

Now that brings Shouta up short. The staffs knows of their marital status, of course, but they make it a point to keep it a secret from the kids and to be found out so easily, doesn’t sit right with Shouta, despite the fact that it’s just Shinsou. He doesn’t mind at all if the kid knows about their marriage but still. He shouldn’t have been able to figure it out in the first place.

“Now what would make you say that?” he wants to know and levels Shinsou with a look; one of the few that still work on the kid.

It works now as well, because Shinsou drags his shoulders up to his ears and shuffles from one foot to the other.

Shouta raises an eyebrow when Shinsou stays silent.

“Permission to speak plainly,” he finally mutters out and it almost makes Shouta laugh, because for all that he’s giving the kid a hard time right now, it’s hardly that serious.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to promise me that no matter what I say next will not get me expelled or punished or—I don’t know, make you mad at me. That I can talk freely.”

Shouta immediately tenses as he’s reminded that Shinsou clearly did not grow up in a loving home if he has to clarify that, but this, at least, is easily rectified.

“Permission granted to say whatever you want,” he gives back and Shinsou takes a deep breath before he goes off.

“It’s just—so obvious,” he almost spits out and before Shouta can ask for more clarification, Shinsou goes on. “You go all—soft around him, and I don’t just mean the way you slouch when he’s in the room, because your slouch becomes more relaxed when he’s there, but your face—” Shinsou points an accusing finger at Shouta’s face and Shouta almost feels as if he’s done something wrong. It’s a novel feeling. “I’m pretty sure you don’t move a single muscle but whenever Mic-sensei is there your face does this thing, where it goes all soft, here,” Shinsou points to the corner of his eyes, “and here,” and then his mouth.

In all honesty, Shouta wasn’t aware he’s doing any of that, and Hizashi hasn’t pointed it out either, but maybe the kid is on to something. It’s worth inquiring after, later.

“Mic-sensei took a phone call in the middle of class one day, and he very loudly and very clearly called out ‘Shou-chan’. As far as I am aware Shouta is your first name so—” he trails off with a shrug but then seems to find his groove because he ploughs right on and Shouta is way too entertained to interrupt him, no promise at all needed in the first place.

“You always carry something for his throat around and he has your eyedrops at the ready and you may think you’re all subtle with the way he always just conveniently carries two cups of coffee when he arrives at school, but let me tell you, you’re not. Not to mention that you always get his cookies from the vending machine when you go for one of your jelly packs.”

Shinsou takes a deep breath, but he’s clearly not done yet.

“And you’re so—you’re always slightly annoyed with Midnight-sensei, though in that way that only friends have, and then you’re barely tolerant of Vlad-sensei and you’re downright hostile with All Might and really, Mic-sensei should be the same, because they are both loud blondes with blinding smiles but you’re just so—unbearably fond of him. Sure, you snap at him and he riles you up on purpose and you threaten him with your quirk when he threatens you with his but it’s so—” Shinsou lets out a frustrated groan. “It’s like you’re dancing to a song only you two can hear and you’ve been doing that for years, you have to, because it makes no sense otherwise. You wear a ring around your neck, at all times and even though Mic-sensei hides it well with his gloves, he's literally wearing a wedding ring all the damn time, too and you bicker! Like a disgustingly married couple. Which you are!”

Shinsou takes a few deep breaths before he completely deflates again.

Shouta is almost disappointed, because while all of that is true, Shinsou didn’t mention the most damning facts. Shouta has not been trying to keep his relationship with Hizashi a secret around him and he knows Hizashi is the same, though really, Shinsou should have picked up on so much more than he already has.

And as if just to spite him Shinsou speaks up again.

“And I’m only deliberately mentioning the things everyone can see. You all but said to me in private that you’re married. I know what it means when you say the staff knows you at that one restaurant, when you tell me you two have favourites together, when you leave training together. I’m not stupid.”

“Clearly,” Shouta drawls out and waits for anything more from Shinsou, so he doubts that he still has something up his sleeve.

“I’m done now,” he hoarsely whispers and it’s an unwelcome reminder that Shinsou is clearly not used to talking so much or so loudly without being interrupted and this might not be the right choice right now, but Shouta has to take a chance here.

“Am I wrong about any of that?” Shinsou wants to know when Shouta is too busy formulating his plan to speak but that finally gets him going.

“How about a deal?” Shouta asks and he clearly has Shinsou’s attention with that already. “How about I’m allowed to speak plainly for now as well, without you yelling at me, or getting angry, or shutting down and running off, and after I’m done we both tell the other if we are right or wrong?”

His words have left Shinsou tense and worried, Shouta can tell, and he almost wants to take it back, knows that it’s almost unfair, because the stakes are not at all the same for the two of them, but they’ve been dancing around this topic for so long. And Shouta is tired of it.

Tired of Shinsou flinching after several days at home, tired of spotting poorly hidden bruises, tired of faint marks on Shinsou’s face. He just wants him come to him with this, to ask for help, to accept help. Shouta just wants to get the kid out of the house he’s currently in and take him home, to his husband and his cats and a life he deserves.

And if he has to go about it this way, then so be it.

“Fine,” Shinsou bites out and Shouta doesn’t waste another second.

“Your home life is shit,” he plainly says and doesn’t let Shinsou’s flinch stop him. “They are keeping necessities from you; clothes that fit, stuff for school, money, even food.”

He personally made Shinsou’s meal plan, specifically tailored to him and the amount of training he’s doing and he should have put on so much more muscle than he actually has which can only mean one thing. He’s not eating enough and Shouta would bet his hero license on the fact that it’s not voluntary.

He’s being starved at home.

“They hurt you, physically but also verbally.”

Shouta doubts that Shinsou came up with half the insults he calls himself almost daily on his own.

“Sometimes they don’t allow you to come home at all. They threaten you with punishment. You’re not allowed to ask questions, probably not allowed to speak much at all and if you do, there’s a—”

Shouta’s voice fails him here briefly because he still remembers the tears running down Hizashi’s face as he makes helpless sounds behind the muzzle strapped too tightly to his face and the knowledge that it’s happening still, and to one of his kids, is almost unbearable.

“There’s a muzzle,” Shouta manages to finish and he doesn’t miss how Hitoshi ducks in on himself, as if he has to brace for a hit.

“You know it’s wrong, and you hate it there, but you’re too scared to say something because you don’t know where you’ll end up next and it could mean you have to pull out of U.A.,” Shouta goes on, and he’s certain in this, because he has seen Hitoshi’s file.

There are too many foster homes to count, too little time spent in too many of them and he doesn’t even want to think about the amount of trauma the kid must have accumulated.

“Are you done?” Shinsou spits out when Shouta is quiet for a moment too long, and he guesses that’s fair.

“I am,” he agrees and watches how Shinsou jerks his head to the side, and he pretends he doesn’t see the tears glistening in his eyes.

“Great, then how did I do?” Shinsou demands to know and Shouta gives him a small smile, because this right now, is the second part of this entire spiel.

“Not too bad, kid,” he admits. “Hizashi and I are married and have been for almost ten years now. But there is one thing you don’t know.”

“And what’s that?” Shinsou asks, still too rough, too sharp but Shouta’s smile doesn’t waver.

“We both have foster licenses. And we’re more than prepared to take in a kid, or, let’s say a stubborn, sassy, diligent, hard-working teenager from Gen Ed with a mob of unruly purple hair. Under the Emergency Foster Protocol at first, because that way the teenager would have to go home with us on the very same day, but we’re prepared to go through the proper channels to make it permanent. And then later official.”

It prompts a shuddering breath from Shinsou and Shouta is not too alarmed when he sees tears sliding down his cheeks.

“So, how did I do?” Shouta throws Shinsou’s words right back at him and for all that he knows that this is emotionally very difficult for Shinsou he was not quite prepared to find himself with an armful of sobbing teenager, so they both fall to the floor in an undignified heap.

Not that he minds it much, because Shinsou is clinging to him and surely that must mean something.

“They also sometimes lock me into the closet,” Shinsou gets out between his sobs and Shouta bites back his almost automatic response of ‘Wonderful’.

He and Shinsou have an understanding, sarcasm and sass one of the things they share between each other, but he doubts that the kid has even a thought to spare for that right now.

“Not anymore, kid, not anymore,” Shouta reassures him, because there is not a single universe out there where he will allow Shinsou to step back into that environment ever again.

Shinsou only clings tighter to him, hiding his face in Shouta’s chest as he cries and cries but not once does Shouta tell him to stop, because clearly Shinsou needs this out of his system.

It takes him a while to calm down again, time Shouta spends cradling the crying boy to his chest, but eventually Shinsou falls silent.

“Mic-sensei won’t mind?” he rasps out and Shouta shakes his head.

“I can call him right now, if you’re worried. He’s on his way to the radio station but since you’re coming home with me now, he’ll want to be there anyway.”

“He can’t cancel his show for me!”

“Kid, he cancels his shows all the damn time, that’s just the risk of being a teacher and a pro hero. It happened before and it will happen again and he won’t mind at all, I can promise you that.”

“I don’t—he’ll be mad.”

“He won’t be,” Shouta gives back and then takes the decision out of Shinsou’s hands, because he has no idea just how excited Hizashi will be.

Shouta gets his phone out and presses the speed dial before Shinsou can even think to protest and it takes Hizashi less than three rings to accept the call.

“Shou? Everything alright?” he greets him with, his voice tinny because he’s clearly still driving and Shouta can just picture him balancing the phone on his thigh.

“Shinsou is coming home with me today,” Shouta plainly states and feels how Shinsou tenses against him.

“Finally,” Hizashi breathes out, the relief so stark in his voice that there’s no way Shinsou can miss it. “He finally asked for help?”

“More like Aizawa-sensei cornered me,” Shinsou speaks up and Shouta pats his head.

His hair really is soft. Maybe he’ll have to do it again, and often at that, he decides when he notices how Shinsou leans into the contact.

“Hey, there, little listener, how are you doing?”

“Have been better,” Shinsou admits between sniffles.

“He figured out that we’re married,” Shouta tells Hizashi because he’s still very proud of him for that and it makes Hizashi laugh.

“Yeah, if anyone would, it’s him. I told you he’s smart.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shouta sighs out when Shinsou ducks his head in embarrassment at hearing that. “You coming home?”

“Of course I am! I’ll bring take out, what are you in the mood for?”

“Can you drive to that diner next to the cat café? The staff knows our orders, and you like their food as well,” Shouta suggests, because he thinks it might be a bit much, forcing Shinsou to think about anything right now and Shouta has taken him there enough times after training to know that the kid likes the food there.

“Sure. I’ll also call Tsukauchi, to get the ball rolling. Shinsou, kiddo, you’re safe now and I’m very proud of you for letting yourself get cornered.”

It prompts a new sob from Shinsou and Shouta decides it’s much more important to hug him close again than to say goodbye to his husband, so he simply hangs up and throws the phone down, so he can better gather Shinsou up in his arms.

“We’ve got you now, kid, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

He doesn’t expect Shinsou to respond, not really, because clearly the kid has other worries right now—mainly breathing—but he still speaks up.

“I trust you.”

Shouta wasn’t prepared for the way that simple statements makes him feel warm all over but he’s beyond glad that it’s the case.

And he and Hizashi will make very sure to never do anything to make Shinsou regret that decision.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.74)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, Harmless Sickfic, So much fluff, Light angst, Brief smut, brief mentions of intercrural sex, slick, a bit of spanking, implied d/s, under negotiated scene but everyone is okay with it, Mommy kink, mommy tae, baby dom tae, Brief daddy kink too, implied yandere Jin, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, discussions of free use, free use! jungkook, clothing control, dollification if you squint, forced caretaking if you squint, nudity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, implied omegaspace, preheats,

W/c: 21.1k

A/n: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out <3 the last couple of weeks have been...not great! Here it is! I will repay you guys with my hiatus by giving you possibly the longest bily chapter ever! The heat arc will take two more chapters! No idea how long those will be but i greatly enjoyed making this chapter the fluffiest little bundle of scenes I could. i did not hold back- i think we've all needed a bit of softness.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

You are belly down in the nest when you first come too.

Your chest is pressed to the cuddle of blankets dragged beneath your tummy. Soft and cozy, warm breath tickling the back of your neck. Your sweet sweet omega packmates have made you the best nest in existence. Comfy and plush, you can sense the high walls and the care that they put into the placement of every pillow.

The scents from both of them (milk and honey) flutter past your consciousness, tugging you down and down, covering you like a physical shadow. So sweet you want to roll around in it.

If only you had the energy for it, your body feels like a lead weight.

You're not alone here but you might as well be for how scent-drunk you are. Can omegas get scent drunk on other omegas? Distantly you can hear voices talking. Downstairs? Or in the dressing room? your brain moves sluggishly, not a single coherent thought filling your head other than how truly comfortable you are.

It’s perfect, Jinnie and Koo are the best at nest-making.

Your inner omega is not entirely satisfied until you can smell all of your pack, you nuzzle forward to search for them. The soft fabric by your pillow smells like Yoongi- like chocolate. Sweet and heady and almost melty. The cinnamon and caramel and coffee are harder to pick out, the vanilla less so because Jimin had suctioned himself to your back in the night, nosing at your shoulders until he settled. The whole nest smells like your pack. Smell safe, smells like home.

Someone has opened up the curtains early (or is it late into the morning?) rather meanly. Soft light turns yellow behind your eyelids. You shield your face from the light in a blanket that smells like Tae. Burrowing underneath it and hiding.

Something warmer and less ephemeral than sunlight dances up and down your spine. Arresting your escape into dreamland and waking you gently. Rubbing harder with every moment.

“Honey.”

You huff, voicing your protests at being woken. Screwing your eyes shut.

“Pup” Yoongi stresses. You chirp, a little bratty. He huffs a fond sigh before really putting his hands to use gripping you under your ribs to lift you up gently.

Or at least trying too. You flop back against the blankets limp, refusing to open your eyes. Fingers tangled in the nest like a child would clutch at a well-loved stuffed animal (there are well-loved stuffed animals here, mostly ringing the nest like little soldiers, your addition to the nest). Your body feels so good- listless and tired and sleepy. You don’t answer your mate with more than a grumble, trying to turn back over. Tummy, you need to be on your tummy.

Yoongi laughs, actually laughs, and despite your best efforts you start to wake you do starts to feel more awake. His sleepy giggle and the flutter of your heart is better than an alarm clock.

Why stay asleep when you have so much to wake up to? Your mind doesn’t get the memo, remaining fuzzy and sluggish.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be late and…” Something smells very very sweet, almost syrupy on the air. You don’t mind the smell, but Yoongi smells a little sour. A little stress bitter- more 87% dark chocolate and not hot chocolate goodness. What could he possibly have to be stressed about when the nest feels like this? All he has to do is nest and he'll be right as rain, you wish you could tell him that, but your mouth remains sleep-slack and pouty.

His hand holds your hip, keeping your legs closed. Keeping your legs from parting. You cling to the pillow that smells like Tae. Intent on putting it between your legs and hugging it and not him if your mate is going to be mean and wake you.

But Yoongi doesn’t let you. Yoongi stops you.

“You’re gonna get it all over the bed and that if you’re not careful, and if you do Jin definitely isn’t gonna let you go with Namjoonie without giving you a scolding. And you know how he likes his scolding’s-”

Your body warms and sweetens, You bring your legs together, intent on pushing up in the nest and telling him off. But it’s then that you feel it. The cold, the wetness of slick between your legs.

Oh

You sit up so quick the room spins. Hair fluffing, all cowlicky and messy all over your head. You look first at Yoongi then anxiously between your thighs where the grey fabric of your pajamas has already darkened.

You’re not proud of the way that you slam the bathroom door in Yoongi’s face. His voice is muffled and worried. “It’s alright- it happens with Jin and Jungkook sometimes too, leaking slick is perfectly normal-”

You whine, high-pitched, embarrassed. cutting him off. “Give me a second! I’m fine just-” You keep your hands pressed to the door, holding it closed. Yoongi waits for a breath and the doorknob stops turning. You can hear his sigh from the other side of the door.

Someone opened up the window in the bathroom and you're thankful now- the scent of your slick is not quite so cloyingly sweet. Cold spring air tickles your toes, at odds with the heated flooring.

“Alright, want me to keep the others away?”

“Yes, please and thank you.” Your head hits the door. Resting your forehead against the wood.

A bit of slick trails down your thigh, threatening to land on the floor. You make an alarmed noise.

“Can you get me some clean clothes?”

“Oh yeah, shit- Sorry-”

There are bathing suits hanging on the side of the deep tub- from you and Tae and Hobi last night. from when you'd used the hot tub out on the balcony and soaking away your soreness last night. One of them slides to the floor (Tae’s, bright pink, crusted with pearls like a mermaid) as you hobble to the toilet. Feeling embarrassed and thankful that no one’s there to see you.

You’d gotten kissy and overheated in the tub. Water bubbling around you and concealing your wandering hands. Tae’s bathing suit pulled to the side and yours too eventually. Leaving Hobi pink-cheeked and watching from the other side- teasing himself with the distance.

Until they’d both sandwiched you. Bottoms pulled to the side under the water. Both of your alpha's working in tandem. Knots pressing between the chub of your thighs and sometimes up into the slick plush of your pussy lips. Neither of them slipped inside because you’d said you didn’t want it- that you just wanted to be teased.

And tease they had; with Tae’s cock sliding up between your body and the fabric of your bikini, sat upon her lap. Hobi’s mouth, trailing down the front plunge of your bikini and taking it off eventually. Both of them breathing heaving and nibbling.

You’d felt like a chew toy in the best way. Soft- turned on, not nervous, not anxious. Because neither of them seemed to have any intent on fucking you or knotting you or had been at all upset when you said you didn’t want to fuck. That you just wanted to be touched and nothing else.

You really liked it, being touched without it going anywhere. It’s not exactly surprising that you’d had what surely must have been a wet dream after.  

Yoongi had complained a bit about having to drain the water out of the tub when you’d come in dizzy and body humming, carefully corraled between your two pink-cheeked alphas, but you know he hadn't actually been upset. Just teasing.

You and Yoongi haven't been intimate in that way since your fight and blow-up and then eventual reconciliation but at least the kisses have been lingering and slow and not without heat. The regular intimacy is back, the cuddling too- and you know it's only a matter of time until that part of your relationship unfurls again.

Neither of you are in any sort of rush. You've taken your last three showers with him, had shampooed his hair and shaved his scratchy chin last shower, with him sitting on the shower bench and you standing between his legs. Yesterday after Tae and Hobi had dragged you into the hot tub.

But he hadn't taken you, even though his eyes had been on you and his hands had touched a little softer, a little longer. and he knew exactly what you'd just been doing with tae and hobi by your scent alone. His cock hadn't been completely soft against his thigh but he hadn't asked or initiated anything. Neither had you.

Granted, You hadn’t wanted to be sore for your and Namjoon’s travel day today. Yoongi is a very very considerate mate and packmate.

Now you sit on the edge of the toilet and pull down your pants, cringing when you see the mess of slick that soaks your pj's and darkens the fabric from grey to black. You wonder if it's just the stress of travel and leaving your pack or if there are other things at play here.

Given how you’d forgotten about your and Namjoon’s first date until several weeks after having made the plans for it- it's a little predictable that you’d also forgotten your plans to go on a little vacation with the pack alpha. Granted you'd made your plans shortly before you’d tried to leave them, and that had also kinda distracted both of you, but tomato tamato.

It’s been three months since all of that went down. Springtime is well on its way. The trees are going to leaf out any moment now and join the blooming cherry blossom and crabapple trees and magnolias that dot your section of town. You can barely walk with Hobi to work anymore without him pointing out the magnolia trees and promising that he'll plant one in your front yard before the summer is over.

Soon but not quite yet.

It’s the blooming trees that had actually inspired your trip with Namjoon; Namjoon got the idea when you’d been driving with him to another doctor’s appointment. You'd been quiet, nervous, nose pressed to the window to watch for trees, and you'd asked him to slow down so that you could look longer at the pink tangles of trees along the waterfront.

Namjoon loves to indulge.

You’d perused Airbnb’s together, knitted close one evening on the couch, a glass of wine and Jungkook’s pinky tucked into one limb and Namjoon pressed close on the other. Tae’s laptop balanced on his thighs and Jin on his other side. Because even if your packmates wouldn't be coming- they still want a hand in the planning. The nosey bunch that they are.

You’d planned it out with Jin watching with hawk eyes and deeming certain packages too pedestrian for you, not fancy enough or not romantic enough. You’d finally landed on a hot spring, up north- apparently known for its secluded views and cherry blossoms at this time of year.

Appropriately bougie and appropriately brief at 3 days and 2 nights but special enough for what Namjoon had dubbed your first anniversary present.

You’d talked about it, tangled up with Namjoon on the front porch under about a dozen blankets just to watch the birds getting fat and happy on spring suet and seeds. Hobi hung up the birdfeeders there just for you and Namjoon to enjoy on your mornings.

You and Namjoon watch the birds often on the front porch, now that it's warm enough to sit out here for extended stretches. With him working so infrequently, you've been able to spend a lot more time with him.

Your love with him has always been slower, gentler than the others. Namjoon loves being delicate with you and loves treating you like the fine china that you are. You feel the delicacy in the way he touches you all the time and in the way that he encourages your slow mornings.

Your mouth rounded out and kissed pink from his mouth a second ago, kissing you when the birds don’t linger near the feeder so that your squeaks don’t spook them. Your shirt pulled up as you slid down the cushion, bare skin that Namjoon’s fingers had teased at. A touch just to touch. Tickling at your ribs until you giggle at him to stop.

Petting up and down your sides, he can’t feel your ribs anymore. Hasn’t been able to in months. He indulges in the feeling of your soft skin while you watch the birds flutter. “I don’t know if we can call May our anniversary, you didn’t kiss me really until June.”

“Doesn’t matter, We met in May.”

You'd snorted, "thats not an anniversary Joonie. What was it love at first sight?"

"No," Namjoon says, honest, but that's why you love him, leaning in nose had pressed against your mating mark, sniffing deeply. Letting out a satisfied grumble. "Maybe home at first sight though. I think I could already feel it- that you and Yoongi were mated. I think I just didn’t want to admit it to myself yet.”

Anniversaries and special days aside. The rest of the pack had been predicably jealous when you'd shown them the pictures of the hotel. Not too jealous- because the pack has another vacation in the works at the end of the summer. An idea that’s only just starting to crest their minds. Why shouldn’t they travel now? They don’t have pups- and this might be one of the last summers they have.  

Tae had leaned in over Namjoon’s computer, “Wait this is so pretty- and for photos! I want to go look at all the pink” She’d whined. Jimin had just shaken his head and leaned close to press a kiss to her temple to distract her. Almost hitting one of Tae’s space buns in the process.

“We can always go to the botanical gardens for pictures honey.”

“Yeah! That way you can show me when we get back! and we'll have pictures to show each other” You’d chirped, trying to be comforting.

Sometimes in the pack, it’s hard to separate your relationships out into their single pairs, beyond soon-to-be mated pairs and soulmates aside. It’s hard not to want to do everything together.

But getting away with the pack alpha for a few days is probably going to be good for all of you. A day or two apart and some time to decompress. A brief stretch so that you only miss each other more.

To have the pack alpha’s undivided attention is something that you’re both excited and nervous about.

He’s taking you to a resort and hot springs up north. Surrounded by a cherry blossom grove that’s earned its spot at the top of several travel blogs as the number one event to do in the spring. It's not a terribly long trip and mid-week because the rest of the rooms had been booked up for the weekends already. But Namjoon had still insisted that you get a room with an attached private spring. T

here’s a cherry blossom trail on the grounds and a nice dinner planned for tomorrow night. But nothing else planned for the third day beyond your drive home. Namjoon had heard of this cute little roadside bakery that he wanted to stop at on your way for breakfast.

You’ve been bouncing up and down with excitement since last night- your singular suitcase packed yesterday morning by Tae and Jungkook- who had demanded you pack a quite frankly concerning amount of lingerie.

But even you had to admit that this is an undeniably sexy vacation. You hadn’t planned anything beyond your walk and dinner, mostly because you’d both expected to do something else for the majority of your trip.

Mostly having raunchy passionate hotel room sex… not that Namjoon even said explicitly that that's what he wants to do with you on this vacation. But he hadn't exactly not hinted at that either with the private onsen suite.

But looking down at your soiled panties, slick sticky, and darkening the fabric, you feel the least sexy that you have in weeks.

“What the fuck” you mutter. Quiet. Yoongi knocks at the door again. Softer.

“Can I come in?”

“One sec.”

The sound of crumpling toilet paper and Jin cursing downstairs becomes louder. The windows are open up here and down there and you can hear him and the cracking of metal pans against each other. Hobi’s laugh. The sound of the dishwasher going downstairs. Noodle meows at the front door. You can hear all of it. Yoongi’s footsteps back and forth by the door. Quiet words.

Is your hearing overly sensitive? Or are they all just loud? 

“Give us a sec Jk, sorry but can you go downstairs for a moment?”

Jungkook’s worried voice, the sound of kisses pressed to his lips, “Sure hyung, going for a run anyway,” Then quieter, so soft that you can’t hear- "Is she alright?”

"Yeah, it’s not nerves if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jungkook breathes in deeply, and lets out a knowing sound as he scents slick on the air. "Want me to keep Jin-hyung away?"

"Please."

This is decidedly not normal for you. Normal for Jungkook sure- he has the most regular dirty dreams out of the whole pack. A few times a week you wake up to the smell of slick, sweet and tempting on the air and more than one alpha tempted to do something about it. Rewarded with Jungkook’s sweet submission when they give in to their temptations.

You've gotten used to his sleepy and quiet ah ah ah's waking you up.

You like morning kisses when Jungkook's getting fucked, it's almost like he forgets how to talk and kiss when he's being dicked down. when you wake up in the morning to gentle repetitive rocking and the sound of soft kisses. Hobi or Tae or Namjoon or Jimin tucked up behind him.

Jungkook likes it best when you pretend like you don't know what they're doing. When you sidle up to his front for a cuddle. You like to hear their croons of "don't be rude to your nestmate Jungkook, give her a good morning kiss." You like tasting Jungkook's shakey sighs against your mouth. Tucking yourself close to him and falling back asleep to the gentle hum of, "You better not cum, you might get the pup all messy, dirty little omega."

You like to be around when they're intimate, it makes you feel like you're still apart of it without any of the fear of being too much or not wanting sex enough. You've been easing up on the fine lines between all of you, on the more free-flowing and free-use parts of your relationship. Starting to explore it safely the way they haven't really had the opportunity too since before you became a part of their pack.

You hadn't really understood free use until jungkook explained it to you.

One afternoon, All of the pups having 'pup time' as Namjoon and Jin had started to call it- but is really just playing Mario cart in the backroom on lazy rainy afternoons. You'd snorted at his explanation. rearranging the plushies in your nesting nook. a note of skeptisizim in your voice.

"I'm not going to just like- push you down and sit on your face? That seems kinda mean Koo."

"For the record the idea of that is really hot." Jimin had tipped his head back, smashing buttons. Tae had hummed agreeing with jimin and combed her long fingers through Jimin's hair while she waits for her turn. Hobi had snorted smashing buttons and clicking.

"It's not mean though- not like mean mean."

Tae's fingers brushing between his legs had distracted him, touching him to tease and feel how hard he is. His little cock a chubby little secret, but jk knows to stay still under Tae's inspection. Jk's little cursor had slipped right off the rainbow road and fallen into space and Tae's hands had slipped off of him too. making him squirm.

"I just like how it feels sometimes, like I'm yours to have and take." Tae continued like nothing was amiss, had pet through his hair as if she hadn't just felt him up. Jungkook's sweet sweet scent is the only tell.

Tae had winked at you over Jungkook's shoulder. "It's kinda like how Namjoon was during a rut right?"

Jungkook's voice was rough, "Right. It's like- I don't know how to explain it- Soothing? That I know you're getting everything you want from me." Jungkook had shaken himself. "You don't have to join in if you don't want too- Hobi doesn't"

You'd turned to Hobi for confirmation, sat closest to you. his back leaned up against the rattan of your nesting nook. Completely focused on the screen and not on your conversation. "I'm like totally lapping you jk."

"No fair, I can't concentrate when I'm talking about sex." The round ends, Hobi wins and Jungkook and Tae swap controllers.

Tae flops down on Jimin's lap, his arms wrapping around her waist and head hooking over her shoulder fluidly. "If I beat you you owe me a kiss."

"Don't make me want to lose. It's not going to work."

"Oh it totally works you just don't want to admit it."

"I'm ready to Loose." Hobi snorts. and is rewarded by a kiss to his cheek.

without a controller, jk looks at you more fully. "We probably won't really start to do it for a little while, at least not not until-" Jungkook falls silent, and the next moment. Yoongi sidles up to the double doors, peering inside smiling at the sight of all of you heaped close. going quiet. "You know you guys could just sit on the couch instead of the floor."

"Not as comfy"

"Do you have room for one more?"

"Hyung you are so on."

Maybe Yoongi's distance with you would be easier to handle if you didn't also know he's been just as distant with the rest of the pack. Sexual needs ebb and flow, desire ebbs and flows too. Not everyone is like Jungkook- constantly in need, constantly simmering heat. Which is one of the reasons why free use for him is less of a want and more of a need. As much as you like to joke that Jungkook is a bit of a nymphomanic, he really does need that kind of gratification to feel loved.

This- the leaking slick, so rarely happens to you and Jin.

This feels disorienting. The bathroom spins. You’d leaked so much slick in your sleep that you’d soaked through your underwear and your pajama pants. they sit in a heap on the floor. Your panties are ruined.

You don’t think it’s just excitement for your trip. You don’t even remember having a dirty dream. You don't feel turned on, dizzy and a little dehydrated.

You can’t put back on your clothes but you tell Yoongi he can come in anyway. Sitting on the top of the toilet, your shirt long enough to cover your bareness but even you have to admit that he’s seen you in far worse states.

He lets out a small alarmed noise but keeps the door cracked behind him. He stoops to the floor to pick up your ruined pajama bottoms, putting them in the laundry. He’s got another pair in his hands and a pair of clean underwear too. He’s alarmed judging by the wide set of his eyes, looking up to your thighs and then your face.

“It’s just the excitement about leaving.” You don't even believe it as it comes out of your mouth.

He stoops and gets on his knees. He puts your feet through the leg holes, fingers on your calves. Humming.

Things have been better between the two of you recently, this isn't strange. Things are going back to the way they where slowly. There’s been little kisses here and there, laughter too; like when you both went out to the beach to stargaze a few weeks ago. just the two of you, a rare lone outing.

The lights were stark and cold up above and Yoongi's smile anything but. His back against the sand and the deep warm sound of his laughter chasing the winter winds away. A Lingering brightness dancing on the edge of your fingers, starlight jumping from your skin to his, close and warm in the night.

"What did you wish for?"

"Nothing"

Then after a moment, you'd admitted it. "For you to be happy"

"I'm already happy sweetheart"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Guess I wasted my wish then."

"I think you can make another wish, that one doesn’t count."

"Okay." A beat, a breath, a kiss to your cheek.

"Did you do it yet?"

"Yoongi-"

He still takes care of you- although the intention behind each action brews a little more balanced than before. He takes care of you and you take care of him too. You hold his latter when he gets up on it to paint, and hand him tools when Hobi’s car needs a tune-up. You follow him around the house the same way he used to follow you around.

You've begun minding his health the same way the others mind yours- you'd made him take vitamin C when he started coughing in mid-March. And nursed him through the unglamorous episode and illness that followed.

You'd held his hand while Namjoon had listened to his lungs and pouted at him each time he tried to get up when he should have been resting. Made him soup and babied him for the week he'd spent coughing and then cuddled him through his fever. Kept him plied with ice water and cough drops and miraculously hadn't caught the same mystery illness.

You’ve been trying to find a middle ground, a new kind of honesty that you hadn’t had before. He takes care of you now just as much as you take care of him.

Now, Yoongi’s hand hovers on your ankle. On his knees in front of where you sit and you’re nearly at eye level with him. You watch his nostrils flare, and his lips descend into a frown as he looks between your thighs. If it were anyone else you'd feel self-conscious.

“What are you thinking?”

Yoongi hesitates before he speaks his suspicion into life. He knows the power his words have and the joy that they have the possibility of ripping away. It's not just your high hopes he's worried about but Namjoon's too.

“Do you think you could be going into heat?”

Your stomach flips, but you instantly shake your head.

When you think internally, You feel no warmth, no wanting in your gut or instincts. You rub your hands over your face. Yoongi hesitates before getting up and washing his hands. Looking at you in the mirror.

“No, I don’t feel-” Your hand hovers over your stomach, and downstairs some pans clatter, and Jin curses loudly again. The pack awaits. You can hear Namjoon’s voice downstairs too. “It could be nothing. It was probably just a dream.”

You cover your face with your hand, quieting the heat in your cheeks. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. Turning around to rest against the sink and look at you, drying his hands slowly. You give him space to say something but when he stays silent you have to ask.

“Do you want me to cancel the trip? I can tell Namjoon, he'd understand.” 

He doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he comes close again, making an alarmed noise when he sees the goosebumps on your thighs and dropping back to his knees, putting your feet through the holes of the clean pj’s and pulling them up slowly. Tender. His fingers hover on your calves treading higher and higher to the sensitive skin on the inside of your knees.

You have a bruise there, from roughhousing with Jk yesterday morning. A battle over prime nesting material you had not won (you'd been happy to lose when the punishment was being manhandled and several hickeys on various parts of your body. Jungkook likes to nibble.)

Yoongi's thumb covers the bruise in its entirety. “How far is the drive again?”

“Three hours.” Yoongi’s teeth worry away at his lower lip and it takes him a second to debate it internally

“You could come home, if something went wrong, Namjoon would drive you home.” Someone is coming up the stairs, you can hear the creek of the old wood, and you won't have your privacy for much longer.

You lean forward, hitting your forehead with his. “Yeah. You’re right.” Yoongi pecks your nose and stands up, stashing the last of your soiled clothes in the laundry basket where the smell of slick won’t be noticed.

Tae knocks the same second that you pull up your pants. Just in time, you’ll have to undress anyway to shower- but you don’t need her wondering why you and Yoongi are cleaning up your slick and hiding it from the others.

Tae grins from the cracked door once she sees it's just you and Yoongi, nudging it open with her toe completely unaware of the trouble brewing. If she notices the scent of your slick on the air she doesn't say anything. Her hips sway as she leans up against the door. Hands behind her back, holding something grinning at you.

“Can I pick out your outfit?”

“Something tells me you already have; I need to shower first.”

Tae has been taking a lot more free reign when it comes to you and your outfits. It's the one thing you had been interested in when Jungkook had first started to ask about free use. The one thing you'd been curious about.

You'd raised your eyebrow at it the first time you'd noticed Jin and tae set out Jungkook's workout set before work. Shivered and watched as they palmed and tugged and dressed him before letting him go with a kiss and a small tap to his bottom. Jungkook had that wide hazy look in his eyes, a slack grin on his mouth, subspace or omegaspace or some tangle of the two.

You'd been stuttering and unsure, "can we, can you- would you choose my clothes for me too?"

Both of them, Jin and Tae, had stood up straighter, both of them near purring- like they'd been waiting for you to ask. (You haven't forgotten and neither have they- how you call Jinnie daddy and Tae mommy. Although you've begun to use the latter name more casually with Tae).

You are still warming up to it, but Tae's been setting out your clothing most mornings and Jin's been selecting your pj’s each night. Your and Jin's routine usually comes with a hole check and settling if you ask for it nicely (a cock and knot if you ask even more nice, if jin checks your hole and finds you warm and wet and wanting)

While the clothing is not entirely a dominance thing, that needy gleam in their eyes is unmistakable. With Jin, you can almost tell yourself that it's just his grooming instincts, but with tae- the clothing is a little different.

You don’t mind that she likes it, deciding what you wear and how you wear it. You don’t mind that she finds some satisfaction from it- some instinct fulfilled, some pleasure gained. You don’t mind maybe because it’s her and she has good taste, because she so often chooses what you want to wear anyway.

And because, as she so often reminds you, you can tell her no at any time without fear of anger or punishment.

Panties or no panties? A matching set or a soft playsuit for lounging around and nesting? A lacy little bralette or nothing at all?

Actually- I'm going to go for a walk with Hobi today, to the beach. Can I wear one of alpha's sweatshirts?

Of course you can sweetheart.

Maybe because it’s one less decision you have to make, one more way you can let her take care of you. Tae packed your suitcase for this trip because of this newfound sense of give and control.

It's not all endless giving. Tae often checks with you before she does anything too risky.

Tae hadn't been interested in any dominance and submission before you, the one vanilla packmate before her transition. But now that it's here and it's with you, Tae wants and wants and wants. Some of the stuff like with safewords and aftercare she's well acquainted with, but other things are newer for both of you. You know she talks with Namjoon and Jin about it, you know that they are both guiding her with this and teaching her how to be a good dom.

Many evenings Jin looks and inspects what Tae has put you in, their attention makes you shiver and stand straighter, "what a good choice Tae-baby, my good little alpha making our omega so pretty."

One morning blends into another, one morning she doesn't decide at all and then the next she stands there and asks. "Can I push you today?"

You'd squirmed and sat in the dressing room, waiting, negotiating. Jin had already given you a hole check that morning and promised there would be another one later with a heavy look. like he knew before what tae is going to try and do. You'd needed a hole check too- you'd woken up whiney and in omegaspace, sweet and in need of someone to steady your instincts.

"Yes."

You'd stuttered when she'd showed you the dress, the short short hem, fumbled even more when she told you that you wouldn't be wearing anything underneath, that you wouldn't be going anywhere either until someone found out.

(Jimin had been the lucky packmate. Pulling you down onto his lap during breakfast, his bare thighs thick in his shorts. Your cries of "Minnie wait-" came too late when. His raised eyebrows had drawn more than one packmate's attention as he'd held your waist. Stopped you from squirming. his bare skin against your bare skin and wetness, because Tae knew, tae knew and she-

"What is it?" Namjoon had asked. Tae was doing nothing more than grinning and sipping her coffee over his shoulder, watching the situation that she created unfold with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Jimin's fingers had lingered on the hem of your dress. Glancing from you to Tae. "Why don't you come and see hyung?")

Now she holds out a folded dress to you, “guilty.”

You sigh, but Yoongi holds out his hand, helping you stand. You reach for the brush on the counter but Tae beats you to it, standing behind you. So close you can feel her heat down your spine.

You shiver. 

“Guys I can-“

“Nonsense, Mommy will do it.” Tae doesn’t let you lift a finger. And you guess you shouldn’t really be all that fussy or shy, you stay still while Tae detangles your hair and Yoongi starts the shower and sets out your towel and a pair of warm long socks that sit in a heap on top of your folded dress. They won’t have a chance to baby you for the rest of the week (or at least not until Friday when you get home) so you let them take what they can get.

It's not all sexual, it's loving too.

Tae detangles your hair gently, so soft that you're tempted to close your eyes again, especially with the warm steam filling the room. Yoongi stays close, watching you as he stands by the sink and talks to Tae about their plans for tomorrow. Distant plans that you are aware of.

Yoongi's quickly distracted from actually helping you shower by a shout from Hobi downstairs but he doesn't leave without kissing your forehead first. You undress and Tae washes her face and does her skincare routine while you shower. Chatting to you again about your itinerary for today with how she talks you’d almost think that she was coming with but she isn’t.

Today is just for you and Namjoon, the whole weekend really. She’s as excited for you to have some time with Namjoon as you are, maybe even a little bit more excited than you are.

She’s probably just thinking of the outfits.

You're still kind of tired, still kind of half asleep. The steam in the bathroom makes you feel hazy, Tae has to remind you every few seconds not just to lean against the tile under the spray and actually wash your hair. It's just so warm, so nice, here under the warm water surrounded by the scent of her and Yoongi. You paw at the nob to the shower turning it warmer. Sighing when it goes hot.

You must have nodded off for a moment because the rush of cold air from the big glass door opening shocks you into almost slipping. Your hands hit the wet tile to steady yourself. She leans around you, avoiding the water and turning it colder.

“your skin is getting red!” She's alarmed, but not angry as you blink down at your arms and your chest- turned splotchy.

“Yeah, shit, I didn’t realize,” Tae watches you warily, sucking on her lower lip before she prattles on.

"'You're like really sleepy today,"

"Yeah," you say, voice hushed,

"Excited though?" she double-checks.

You grin, dopey "Yeah."

After that everything feels a little hazy, maybe it’s the temperature of the house or just Tae being close. She moves you from the bathroom to the dressing room giggling as you almost bump into the walls, keeping your towel tucked even as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"I really think I need some coffee," you say as you rub your eyes and Tae dots cream over your flushed cheeks. Her answering hum does not promise caffeine.

"In a second, I'm almost done. You can close your eyes while I do your makeup if you need to." You try to fight your drowsiness- you really do. But soon the scent at the apex of her shoulder and neck temps you too much and you squirm closer and closer in search of her warmth.

Tae put you in a robe when you got out of the shower but you still feel so cold. So needy. You squirm until you're sat across her thighs, each knee on either side of her hips in your familiar position. Whining when she finishes your skincare and has to scoot back to do your hair taking your only source of warmth with her.

Her giggle makes you want to bear your throat to her. "I can't curl your hair and cuddle you at the same time pup." You whine, but she's immune, "Be good." a small warning in her tone.

You straighten up, blinking hazily up at her and letting her detangle herself from you to stand, until she tells you that you can close your eyes again.

Your head lolls while she blow-dries your hair, tugged from side to side by the round brush. Tae's giggles and voice are a lullaby. The warm air from the drier sends more and more of her scent fluttering over your nose.

She reaches to pin your hair back and you nuzzle into her wrist. “Pup” she stresses. But you get away with it.

Tae keeps the makeup light; a bit of strawberry-colored blush deepening the flush on your cheeks, faint concealer.

She starts to dress you, pulling the underwear up your thighs and hips with a soft barely there kiss pressed over them that makes you squirm. She tugs the socks up to your mid thigh and guides your arms through the sleeves and over your head. The thick fabric feels a little like a blanket over your knees. Tae pulls it down until it covers all of you.

You don’t bother to look in the mirror quite yet, still nodding off every now and then as she sprays hairspray to set your soft curls in place. "There we go- you're perfect." 

Her fingers on your cheeks prompt you to open your eyes and when you do, you find you're sitting in front of the vanity. Tae's behind you, her dark silk robe at odds with the light flutter of your dress. One of her arms wraps around your shoulders, and the other grips your face, turning your face from side to side to show off her handy work. Her fingers pinch just enough that your lips stick out. Red but hazy around the edges like your lipstick got kissed off or maybe kissed on- it's hard to tell.

You look like a doll; You look pretty (you always look pretty once Tae has had her way with you).

"What do you say pup?" Tae and Jin have both ganged up on you a bit recently about your manners. You don’t mind her sternness if anything it just makes you feel smaller and more pupish- both things you like feeling around Tae.

"Thank you, Mommy." You pout, and Tae rewards you with a soft kiss that makes you squirm. her fingers still digging into your cheeks.

"You're welcome, honey. Let’s go show our boys what they're missing."

~-~

Tall dark boots wait for you by the door, another gift from Tae. Side by side with your suitcase. Prepared and waiting.

You giggle and tug her on down the stairs, going a little fast, ignoring her cries of "pup, slow down" The excitement builds until you hit the bottom step and almost slip, the socks from Yoongi fluffy and slick, Tae makes to grab you and the two of you tumble straight into Namjoon.

The pack alpha lets out a quiet oof.

It's a good thing he's so tall and strong, both of his arms shoot out to steady you.

You blink up at him, and his big hands hover on your shoulders. Dancing along the back plunge of the dress. It’s a baby doll style, checkered pink and blue. the front is boatnecked, but the back plunges open, tied closed with a bow. Namjoon touches your skin through the low backline. his palm rough and warm.

Namjoon steps back for a second. Making a pleased noise. Looking you up and down, “Look at you pup.”

Tae just leans back against the railing and preens. You look to the left and into the mirror.

You look so small compared to Namjoon and Tae. Doe-eyed and like something out of a cottage core fantasy in your outfit. It’s a little doll-like in cut and style, the bow on the back almost coquettish. Namjoon’s wide hands cover the open panel of your back. Running up and down again. You can feel his grumbly purr of satisfaction against your chest.

Tae tugs down the bottom hem of your dress. You sway.

Namjoon has put a bit more effort into his outfit today too. His jeans are new and his sneakers are the first pair of non medical grade non-slip ones he’s owned in years. He’s wearing a plane tee under a button-down, just his usual uniform since he’s started spending more and more time at home and only working 3 days a week. You bury your face in the front of Namjoon’s shirt, nosing aimlessly.

He looks every picture of a pack alpha, big and imposing. Unafraid of taking up space. The pack alpha grins down at you, all but bouncing up and down on his heels in excitement. The sight of him makes you leak slick again. Just a little. you wonder if both of your alpha’s can smell it.

Really- what is going on?  

“Tae, you-”

Namjoon’s tongue-tied but Tae just smiles, small, at the corner of her mouth in that special secret way that girls smile. She curls a lock of your hair around one of her fingers. “You’re welcome Joonie”

Namjoon squishes you a little harder to his chest in cute aggression and you feel your chest squish too. Huh, Tae didn’t put you in a bra. you're not upset just confused- obviously, you're gonna want to sleep on the drive and wearing one all that way would be uncomfortable but Your hand comes up, feeling.

“You fussed,” she says, “didn’t want it.” Reading your mind is just one of Tae’s many talents, but you blink. You like the way that the dress billows out, not hugging your body. The darts on the side still give the effect of hugging your figure without it being tight.

You peak up at him and Namjoon's blushing, so you hide your face in his chest instead of confronting it. His hand crests your shoulder pulling you in closer, giving you permission to rub your face in harder. You scent him sleepy until your breath is hitching.

Noodle yowls and slips through your ankles, purring and trailing after Hobi who just huffs happily, watching the three of you from the living room before he continues plucking blankets off the couch, a half-full basket of laundry in his clutches that he ferries down to the basement.

Namjoon's dimples are little crescent moons to the star of his smile when you pull back. immeidatly ducking back down when the sight of him overwhelmes you. “Having fun down there?” He teases.

“Yes,” you reply stubbornly and he laughs, his stomach pushing out against your sternum. You bury your face back in his shirt again, harder this time. Too shy to meet the pure adoration in his eyes. 

“I’ve just got to put the suitcase and my bag in the car and then we’ll be ready to go okay? Wanna get us some coffee?” You nod, and he pecks your forehead before detangling himself from you.

"Tae!" Hobi calls from the basement. "Can you get me your dirty laundry please?" Hobi, "Jk wants to do it when he gets home but I don't want him carrying anything down the stairs." Tae sighs and heads back upstairs.

A loud clang and more cursing interrupts you where you’re standing in the entryway. But it’s just Jinnie. You follow the source of the noise to the kitchen, hovering unsure by the kitchen island.

If you had a good night's sleep last night- it looks like Jin had the opposite.

Jinnie doesn’t look like his usually perfectly curated omega this morning; his striped robe has stains on the hems. His cheeks are blotchy and his eyes are puffy. His coffee cup leaves rings where it sits on the countertop like his hands had been shaky when he set it down.

He's got about a dozen bags of flour- semolina and almond, caster sugar and regular sugar taking up every available space in the kitchen. Along with just about everything from the confines of your fridge too. He looks like he's half way between breakfast and a deep clean. Even though it's already almost 10.

You watch as he sighs and rubs a hand across his face furrowing his eyebrows when he thinks that no one’s watching. You sidle up behind him and he jumps a few feet in the air, “pup- I didn’t-” You nudge his shoulder with your nose (a special little omegan hello). Jin exhales, and his shoulders relax, no longer up to his ears.

"What are you looking for?" It's the wrong thing to ask. Jin puffs back up almost instantly. The mirror image of Noodle when there's a fly he just can't seem to catch.

Jin pulls the coffee mugs down from where they sit, one after another, putting them down a little hard and quick. "The syrup! I don't know who put it away last but when I find out who did I'll-"

You smile, and wordlessly go over to the sink, opening the door and bending down to reach around in the cleaning supplies, pulling it from all the way in the back with a quiet ah-ha!

"Oh, you-" Jin blinks down at you a little stunned. Then bristles, voice going darker. Eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Did you put it there?"

You are not intimidated at all by Jin's pack omega shenanigans or his grumpiness this early in the morning. Smiling up at him absolutely unbothered by his sour mood. "No, you did!"

Jin pouts, gesturing at you to explain, you shrug and set it on the counter. "It looks the same as a bottle of cleaning supplies, and the last time you gave the kitchen a deep clean you weren't wearing your glasses."

"Oh." Jin's lips are a near-perfect circle, plush where they pout, annoyed with himself. "Thank you." You get up on your tippy toes to peck him on the cheek and dart past him to put your sourdough starter and semolina flour away very very carefully.

Jin starts to undo the rest of his whirlwind, leaving out some of the ingredients so that he can get started on the pancakes. The house is quiet for now, the two of you work side by side in companionable silence.

When you're done, Jin wipes his hands on the cloth. “Do you have everything you need before you go?”

You nod, and Jin's shoulders deflate, leaning up against the counter, he barely manages to hide his crushed expression before he turns away and starts to get to work on the pancakes. He pulls a metal bowl down from the shelf without a word whereas he'd usually ask you for help with it- and starts adding eggs to it indiscriminately, cracking them with one hand.

“Jinnie?” You ask quietly. The eggs go tap-crack-plop. The pack omega hums, but doesn’t look up from the bowl. Pausing after the first few eggs to break the yolks with a large whisk. The scrape of metal against metal jarring.

“Do you, uhm-” his eyebrows are furrowed concentrating on what he’s doing, “Do you want us to stay home today?”

Jin looks up so quickly that he almost cracks the next egg onto the countertop instead of in the bowl. “What! No- what gave you that idea?” Jin sets the bowl down and reaches for you, but you look at his fingers, sticky, and the rest of him- covered with flour. The dress Tae put you in is new, and the flour will surely show.

Jin washes his hands, and dries them, while you get two travel mugs down from the shelf. One green travel mug for Namjoon and a pink one for you. He dries his hands in the cloth while he watches you.

Tae's really really mean, making you look so pretty before you'll leave for so long. Three days. That will be your longest absence from the house, the den, and Jin's nest since the beginning.

Jin feels a little like he's choking. Like his skin is crawling. You're not even going to eat breakfast with them. Even back when Jin still had his day job with the Fbi. Breakfast is your ritual.

Jin lets out a shakey breath, “Of course I want you to go and have fun pup. You and Namjoon have been looking forward to this for weeks.” You pour out coffee and then enough milk into both your and Namjoon’s travel mugs.

“I know, but that wouldn’t mean anything if you wanted us to stay- you seem-” You glance up at him, and miss the next dollop of milk in Namjoon’s cup, getting it all over the counter. “Shit.”

Jin just hums and uses his cloth to whip it up. Almost pinning you to the counter in the process, leaning around you so that he’s sandwiching you in on all sides. His chin hits the top of your head. And when he’s done you flip around looking up at him.

“You’re-” you choose your words carefully, “you’re off today?” he can hear the question in your voice. Tucking an errant hair behind your ear. But he’s not disagreeing with you. You continue to pry. “You feel like Mini does when he’s having a bad sensory day?”

“Yeah,” Jin breathes in and out, and it looks like it takes him effort. You wait for him to say that he needs you, that he really doesn’t want you to go, that the idea of having you outside of the nest is not something that he can handle today.

“Make sure Namjoon texts me when you get there okay? And I want you to call me before you go to bed tonight and show me your nest. If you want to pack some blankets or stuff that smells like us you should- don’t worry about missing the traffic- and- and-”

Hobi thuds up the stairs from the basement, an empty laundry basket in his hands.

“Hey no stealing her-” he wags his fingers, Jin pouts at your alpha, and you watch his eyes follow Hobi. You watch Hobi’s eyes flicker down your body and then back up to your face, and Jin’s arms tighten around your waist.

“Hobi she’s my pup-” but Hobi just wags his finger, you’ve never seen him even try to put Jin in his place before let alone scold him.

Is everyone feeling a little bit off kilter, or is it just you?

“Technically he’s not stealing me, technically I’m stealing his alpha.” Hobi senses the guilty lilt in your voice and shakes his head. Jin pecks your forehead, lingering for just a little bit longer than he might ordinarily before he steps back to his bowl, and adds a dark splash of vanilla to the creamy contents.

“No he's going to get substantially babied by his other three alphas-Jiminie and I are taking everyone out for dinner tomorrow tonight so that no one has to cook or anything- we’re gonna go to one of Tae’s fancy poetry readings and stuff.”

“Oh,” you say. You sort of like Tae’s poetry, sort of love watching her play around with words like she’s a little kid in a sandbox. Two seconds ago, you’d been worried that Jin would feel left out and now-

“Can you check the oil in your car before they leave?” Jin asks. Hobi’s eyes flicker to his and then yours.

“Yeah, when are you guys heading out?”

You pout, feeling guilty, “sort of right now.”

“Oh shit. I thought-” Hobi shakes his head, and for a second you think you see something like disappointment cross his features. “I’ll do it now.”

Hobi has graciously allowed you to borrow his car for the weekend because of its spacious and easy-to-travel interior. Namjoon loads your suitcases into the Lambo while Hobi grabs a wad of paper towels and makes him promise not to ding it- he only just got all the scratches from Jimin buffed out and freshly painted.

Yoongi lingers with you by the front door, watching Hobi pop the hood. Your hands tangled for a second and he drags you in. His cheek resting on top of your head for a second, while you rub your chin across his collarbones, scenting him before you go.

But Namjoon is already waiting by the car, watching you with a soft smile.

Hobi tops the oil off and slowly walks to the front porch, almost like he's prolonging your departure by going as slow as possible. You give a small shiver as the breeze rustles the birdfeeders and the windchimes casting your scent in his direction. His nostrils flare and his eyes dart from you to Yoongi who ever so subtly shakes his head.

Hobi walks up the stairs to you, sweatshirt pulled up to his elbows, curling his hand around your elbow in passing. “One sec- wait.” Namjoon rests his chin on the hood of the car, both your cups steaming into the open air. Yoongi taps his fingers against the balcony railing, and for a second you think he’s going to ask you to stay, that the worry of you going into heat is too much.

But then he doesn’t. You stand close enough to him that his elbow brushes yours.

“Take pictures,” he tells Namjoon. The pack alpha’s cheeks go pink and you make a face. “Yah not those kinds of pictures!” But your mate is smiling and that’s all you need for the last of your nerves to dissipate.

“Love you,” you say without looking at him.

“Love you too, please call.” He looks down at you.

“I will.”

Hobi comes back, he’s got a tangle of fabric in his hands, a scarf of Tae’s, and a hat of his. “It’s not that cold.” You try and wine. “It’s gonna be warm at the hot springs.” Hobi leans down to your level, purposefully pulling his hat over your eyes roughly probably messing up your hair. You whine "My hair- Hobi-" He just grins down at you.

“Do you want to take my jacket? How about some mittens?”

“Guys” You roll your eyes at your packmates, but Yoongi and Hobi wear twin grins. “It is like maybe 50 degrees. Jungkookie went running when it was 30 yesterday.”

“Jungkookie runs all the time.”

“He did it in shorts and without a shirt.” Hobi just messes up your hair again, rubbing around the hat and probably causing a fair amount of frizz. So much for tae's hard work.

“I’ve got the heat warmer on already!” Namjoon calls, and you give your last goodbye kisses before hurring after him down the steps.

“Bye!”

“have fun!”

“Be safe!” 

You ignore the tight feeling in your chest as you pull away from the house, ignoring the same way that Yoongi- still standing on the porch, starts breathing heavily. His eyes going a bit wild, panicking just a tiny tiny bit. Hobi wraps his arms around him in a hug and holds him through the anxiety. You are already down the street when Hobi lets go.

"Breath hyung, it's just a few days, she'll be back by Friday."

"Yeah, Friday." Yoongi replies sullenly.

“She’s gonna be fine hyung.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, staring after you.

~-~

You fall asleep sometimes after the little roadside bakery. it was just as cute as Namjoon promised, with a pink interior and a whole bunch of different scones and muffins and cupcakes. A small purple box of them in the back of the car sloshes with the movement of the backcountry roads. a full belly of half-finished treats, blueberry scones, and coffee cake muffins, lulls you to sleep in the warm interior of the car.

Namjoon’s soft presence in the driver’s seat and his hand on your thigh does wonders to settle you from the fraught feeling that you’d had while leaving the house. Really, you don't know what you were so worried about.

Namjoon leans over when traffic’s paused, to wipe a tiny crumb from your cheek. Smiling softly. Is this how Hobi feels when he goes on drives with you? Namjoon can see why he likes it- watching your head lull, the soft sound of your breathing, and your sweet scent building and building in the contained interior of the car until Namjoon’s lungs ache with it.

You sleep almost the whole way, only waking when the sun is low in the sky and the scenery is starting to go all moss green and pretty. The country roads are not as maintained here- and the wheels of the lambo start to thud and bump over potholes and cracks. One particularly heavy thud makes you rouse.

“We’re almost there,” he says, and you sip from the water bottle and yawn, Your eyelashes feel so heavy. Gone is suburban sprawl and the lights from distant cities. You bob and weave through switchbacks and steep hills. The thick clouds cover the scenery like a blanket. Maybe it’s mist or steam?

It feels like you too are covered with something heavy and hazy.

The onsen is a tangle of buildings deep in a grove of tall pine trees. The forest is dark green and dotted with bright splotches of pink, the whole drive up to the front is lined with them. it's so pretty you press your cheek to the window. You’re not feeling any more awake by the time you roll up to the front of the onsen and Namjoon parks and tells you that you can stay inside while he checks in.

It’s a traditional style building with thick black tiled roofs and smooth polished wooden beams. Deep dark streams run from building to building, and a covered path crisscrosses back and forth. people walk past in white fluffy robes, clutching grey towels to their chests.

A child somewhere giggles, and your eyes flutter closed, leaning your cheek on the door, nose poked out the open window. You can feel the heat from here.

Namjoon gets your keys and your directions to your room from the kind elderly omega at the front. Your suite is at the edge of the property, secluded and far away from the communal baths that require bathing suits. But Namjoon booked this suite for a reason- because it’s private, you don’t need to separate by secondary gender at all.

You don't even need to wear your bathing suits if you don't want too.

It is far away from the main building though, by the time he pulls the car up to the front you have nodded off again, the warm air tickling your face. Hobi’s hat is discarded in your lap.

It’s really warm here, that must be why you fall asleep so easily, right?

You can feel the bob of Namjoon’s steps, his arms underneath you. The feeling of warm air billowing tickles your face. Your arms weakly wind around his neck, when Namjoon sets you on your feet and you teeter, still half asleep.

“Sorry pup, I just need to shut the door.” Namjoon steers you gently towards the bed and you blink, looking up at him, a little out of it. Yawning so wide and long that your jaw pops.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I can’t seem to wake up.”  

“You’re a little scent drunk- it’s okay.” Namjoon presses a glass of water into your hands and you look around your hotel room.

The smooth dark floor compliments the white walls and earth tones of the furniture. The onsen staff were nice enough to open the doors to your courtyard and warm sweet air rolls in along with the steam. From your bed (king-sized, but smaller than you’re used to since your bed at home is two king-sized smushed together) you can see out into the courtyard.

The wide room looks out over onto a courtyard, a deep inset pool on the floor with water that flows freely from one suite to the others- quartered off between units by high wooden fences. Great swathes of grasses and half a dozen tall weeping cherry trees rim the edge of your courtyard.

Grown in and gnarled. They have to have been here longer than you've been alive. Thick roots push up the soil and the grasses and the tiled edge of the pool on the far side. Long tendrils of pink flowers flutter, you have to stand up and go to the opening to get closer.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Namjoon offers, close behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to rest against his chest while you look out at the deep pool. The dark green tile camouflages the bottom and makes the pink petals stand out. Its calm surface dances with flower petals and steam. It’s probably chest-high on Namjoon at its deepest.

“It’s so peaceful,” you say, your voice hardly a whisper. Nothing beyond the gentle falling petals and your alpha’s breathing behind you disturbs it. Namjoon's thumbs rub up and down your elbows. His nose trails down the side of your throat.

“Apparently the hot water helps the cherry trees bloom a lot more vibrantly.”

“Do you think Hobi would plant us one of these if we asked him?”

“I think he’d do it the second you said you wanted it. Even if it was 3 in the morning, he’d start digging.”

You giggle and relax back into his touch.

They’re beautiful. You chose the perfect time of year because there’s still countless blossoms on the trees and yet big bunches have gathered on the outdoor patio, some even flutter inside falling like snow.

You squeal, and suddenly with more energy, Namjoon laughs as you pick up a big handful of petals and blow them in his face. "Oh no you don't- this is war!" He stoops, picks up his own handful and you go like that, throwing blossoms at each other like they're snowballs until you're both covered in pink. Giggling and clinging to each other. Namjoon picks one from your eyelashes.

"Wait! Yoongi wanted pictures." You send one to the group chat, your cheek smushed to Namjoon's cheek, both of you covered with tiny pink petals. Namjoon turns and kisses one off your cheek, and the resulting photo ends up becoming his home screen eventually.

“Want to put on our bathing suits?” You nod jauntily, starting to move in the direction of your suitcases to get them but Namjoon shakes his head. “Stay put, I’ll get them.” He pauses for a second, trailing his nose up the side of your throat again, eyebrows furrowed. your whole body goes shivery. He crosses the room to the suitcase while you hide your blush, turning away to watch the cherry blossoms flutter in another strong breeze.

But then there’s a crash and you look back.

Namjoon’s standing pink-cheeked. Looking down at the tangle of clothes and your suitcase upended on the floor. Looking from you to the pile and the rivers of pink and purple and pastel lace upended out onto the floor. The lingerie that Tae packed for you that Namjoon was definitely not supposed to see until they actually got on your body.

 You stoop to get them before he can, shoving them back inside. Cheeks aflame. “Tae- she- I don’t know why she-”

“It’s okay- ugh- uhm” Namjoon is so red you think he might be transmuting into a tomato. Namjoon swallows hard, picks up his swim trunks from the floor and you wheel your luggage into the bathroom, a strappy thong gets tangled in one of the wheels and you drag it with a loud squeak until it's inside.

You shut the door but the damage is already done. You let out a quiet embarrassed whine.

You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for a moment. Struggling with your fancy dress that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner, hanging it up with a huff so that it doesn't get any more wrinkles. shaking off your embarrassment. It's just Namjoon, he's seen you in your lingerie before.

You knew what you were agreeing to going on this vacation with Namjoon. A solo vacation just for the two of you sends a very very pointed message. This is a sexy vacation- a private suite and a private onsen only means one thing and now at the precipice of it you feel- you feel-

Namjoon nocks, but you tell him you need a minute trying not to sound scared.

You don’t even know why you feel scared; you’ve had sex with Namjoon before, and taking him is no longer quite as daunting of a task as it once was. But you feel unsettled. Out of your depth here. Intimacy and romance are so much harder without your pack around you to reassure you to egg you on.

You need to call Tae.

She picks up on the second ring, “Pup!” she sounds happy and bubbly even through the phone. You even hear a bit of relief in her voice. “I’m doing my nails upstairs because Jin and Jungkook are being loud; did you get to the hotel yet? How are the flowers?”

“Tae” you hiss, keeping your voice down. “Did you think I’d spend the whole weekend lounging in lingerie!? You didn’t even pack me a bathing suit!” You whine. Still pacing.

“Well, I was actually hoping you’d spend the whole weekend getting your lingerie torn off of you but-”

“Mommy” you whine, and she quiets.

“It’s at the bottom, the dark red one with the flowers.” You find it, if only because it’s a bright oxblood in the mess of pastels. It’s dotted with pale yellow flowers and crossing straps that are supposed to tie around the slimmest part of your waist several times. It’s very Tae. Strappy and sexy and so tiny. The triangles are so small, it might as well be lingerie too.

“Tae- this isn’t going to fit me.”

“Yes, it does” she quips. “I measured.” You flush. You’re sure she did actually measure, probably during one of your morning preening and grooming sessions that you have a habit of spending mostly in omegaspace, an eager puppet to her hands. The idea that you’d been so far down, so trusting that you didn’t even notice warms your blood.

But Tae chose this for you, your alpha chose this for you and your other alpha. Tae does often know best. She knows what Namjoon likes.

Your heart rate slows a little. but you don't let Tae off that easy. “Tae- this is just a mess of strings,” she giggles, and you know just from the sound of it that she did this on purpose.

“Come on, live a little.”

“I know but- but-” you sit on the toilet, and she hums.

You wait, sensing that she’s yet to speak. You can hear Namjoon in the other room, starting to pace. You swear you hear him talking too. The hushed grumble as he talks to someone over the phone to someone.

“I’m sorry, I should have packed you something more modest. I just thought you’d want to- I don’t know, tell me off if I'm wrong but- Don't you want to explore a little? You can have both. Being wanted and being treated delicately- it's not one or the other.”

Your breath hitches, and you wonder how she managed to hit it right on the head. You do feel delicate- you've felt delicate the whole day.

“You can wear skimpy clothes and Namjoon will just be happy he gets to look at you. He still won’t do anything unless you say you want him to. He’s well-behaved like that.”

“Mommy-”

“You love feeling cute, you love feeling wanted. Let him want you pup, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“You’re just saying that because you like to give Namjoon a hard time.”

“It’s a love language” that does get a giggle out of you. She sounds satisfied, her voice a purr, but she still apologizes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You didn’t, I just panicked in the moment.” You pause, and Tae doesn’t fill the space with chatter. “I feel so innocent around him, so- not like this. Not that it’s dirty to dress this way, just…” You trail off.

"The pack alpha loves you, he’s gonna think you’re stunning no matter what. You could walk out in nothing and he’d still probably ask before he looked at you.”

“I kinda want him to look at me,” You admit, confess. “I kinda like making him have to restrain himself.” You have no reason to be nervous.

Tae’s voice is a purr, “There’s my girl. What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl for the pack alpha?” Her voice is a dark purr.

“No mommy.”

"Perfect. Love you. Have fun. Make sure Namjoon gets a nosebleed.”

“Love you too, tae?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

~-~

Namjoon does what Tae expected when you open the door.

He’s standing by the edge of the bed looking at his phone, tapping away while you stand, waiting. “I ordered us food, I know it’s a little early but we’re so far away from town, I just thought-”

He looks up at you and promptly drops his phone. He tries to catch it but fails. Then he tries to lean down to grab it and smacks his head on the bed.

It’s soft, so he sort of bounces back up.   

He grips his forehead and you cover your giggle with your hand. “Sorry I shouldn’t be laughing, are you okay?”

“Totally fine. Yup. Totally- really good-“ and his mouth goes dry at the away of your hips walking over to him. Namjoon’s red all the way from his collar to his ears.

After a moment of just staring at you he tears off his shirt, over his head, quick. His hair is all fluffy and spikey when he comes out the other side.  “It’s like really hot in here, right? Not just me, right?"

You blink up at him. Your grin already teasing.

"That was not a pick-up line.” He tries to justify. Panicked.

“Sort of sounded like a pick-up line.”

Namjoon stares at your face, “I’m trying really hard not to look down. It’s taking like- all of my brain power.”

You put your arms behind your back, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet. “You can look if you want.”

Namjoon does look, eyes drifting from string to string, words tangling behind his bitten lips. You can hear the growl build in his throat. He crosses his arms, biting his fist in an effort not to say something stupid as you twirl and show him your bikini. When you look back, his knuckles bear the red imprints of his teeth. 

“Sorry, let me start again- you look great. Awesome- 5 stars, want to swim with you so hard- I mean bad!  I thought maybe I should order food, so I did that- order food. I know I should have asked you what you want to eat but I just got like- a lot of food instead. And I also door-dash candy because you like sweet stuff for dessert. but the main house sells buns until 8 pm- not that they could be better than your buns- I mean the red bean buns you make a home! Not your butt- I mean that’s really nice too. I mean- shit- I mean-”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

“I’ll stop talking yeah. Probably a good idea,” Namjoon leaves his phone on the floor, watching you, blinking like he doesn’t quite believe his eyes. Traceing the strings that cross your body. “Fucking hell-”

In a moment of bravery, you reach back and pull at the strings, and a sound dies in Namjoon’s throat as it falls off of you string by string. You keep eye contact with Namjoon the whole time. You watch him swallow hard, and it seems like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

You reach to the side of your hip and pull at those strings too and the rest falls to the floor.

Namjoon forcefully keeps his eyes on your face, But his eyes are dark and gentle, honey and vibrant with the force of his wanting, lips parting in an unsteady breath.

“Fuck”

You turn and walk into the pool, not looking back at him as you go. your heart thundering in your ears as you struggle not to trip or slip on the smooth decking and then grab onto the railing like a lifeline and lower yourself into the dark water.

The onsen water is clear and clean- warm almost to the point of being too hot and stinging your skin. But some part of you, the same part of you that had you turning belly down in the nest earlier, loves the warmth and wants to roll around in it. Easing in with a sigh, looking back at him, your hair tickling your shoulders wet.

You don’t speak, and neither does he as he walks to the edge of the decking, following you as if he’s in a trance.

Namjoon stands there for a moment. And then he stoops, pulls down his swimming trunks too, somehow manages not to trip over them while he steps out of them in the process. And you can’t stop your flickering eyes south.

You lean your cheek up against the smooth wood decking and look up at him.

He's almost all the way hard, your pulse quickens at the way his cock lies against his thigh, the way he twitches just a little under your gaze. you push back and float into the middle of the pool.

He follows you in and when he moves through the dark water in your direction you don’t move back. you let him scoop you up and pull your slick body against this. Both of you bare, both of you hidden beneath the dark water. He feels so good, hard and strong and familiar against your front. The last of your fear disappears the second Namjoon touches you and you remember.

For a second you think his hands are going to slide south to grab at your ass, your chest, or anywhere else- but he doesn't. Namjoon doesn't make to kiss you, he just holds you to his chest, hugging you bare. The same way he hugs you in the morning, at night when he gets home. You're nude, but instead of making to have you. For a second Namjoon just holds you.

Safe.

“You know, even though we’re nude we don’t need to- if you don’t-” he pauses and you watch Namjoon war with what this calls for too. A very sexy vacation usually means lots of filthy nasty sex but-

Namjoon’s pectorals in the water cause little ripples. You wind your arms around his neck pressing yourself closer. The water might be warm, but it's him you reach for and cling to in the water.

“Can we just stay here for a while? Just close like this?”

“Yeah,” His voice sounds so husky, so rough, his nose traces yours, but he doesn't lean in to kiss you. Just holding you is enough. There will be more than enough time for kisses later. “Yeah, I like the idea of that.”

Namjoon takes you to the deep end, still holding you up, past the point where your feet can touch the bottom. The warm water and his warm body around you feels so good. You can feel his hard cock pressed between you and your stomach (it’s kind of hard to ignore the literal third leg that Namjoon has) but there’s no rush to do anything about it as he holds you. No rush to abandon the quiet and the gently falling dusk.

The pink petals that dance on the surface of the hot water like stars dance upon the night sky. The steam rises up around you and water gathers on Namjoon’s lower lip.

Namjoon does not try and touch you, he doesn’t slide his hands down to your ass, he just pulls back to look at you and yet keeps you snug. Your nipples are hard, brush his skin, and you hiss, sensitive. He doesn’t need to say anything, doesn’t need to do anything but hold you in the water.

He sways on his tippy toes, and you kick your feet a little, he has a good hold on you but just barely, laughing softly. He meanders back to where it's shallow and he can hold you properly, an apology in his smile. You've got one hand around the back of his neck, your cheek resting against his chest listening to the rabbit hum of his heartbeat, your eyes drooping a little, eyelids heavy.

His hand pets through your hair, tangling at the nape of your neck. Cradling you close. “Thank you for coming all this way with me, I really wanted this, just-” His arms tighten around you, “Just this. Physical intimacy isn’t just sex and cuddling. This is perfect.”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice blocked out by the sound of his heartbeat- or is it yours that you can hear awfully loud? beating rapidly, thudding harder and harder.

It's weird, your heart is beating so fast but you still feel so tired. so tired you just might-

“I know I don’t say it often, but I- I really love you; I need to say it more often.” You want to say it back but your mouth is just so sluggish, so tired. Your arms start to go slack around his neck. “I love you so much pup.”

In the silence, the gurgle of the water grows louder and louder and louder.

“Pup?” Namjoon pulls away from you for a second to look at your face. Without your arms around his neck, you sink like a lead weight. The water slides past your mouth.

“Pup!”

~-~

(The pack, now)

In the wake of you and Namjoon leaving everything feels a little bit off kilter. A little bit not right.

No sooner has the car pulled out of the driveway and your scent has dissipated from the house than Jin is stifling his sniffles and excusing himself to the bathroom only to come back smelling soggy and hormonal and with red-rimmed eyes.

Yoongi casts worried glances in the direction of the driveway and Jimin and Jungkook come back from their run, with a huff and a giggle of thudding feet on the porch. Having nearly everyone home does little to settle or lighten the mood.

They come inside, sweaty and yet cold, scents sweetening until they don't. Hobi watches them realize, almost comically that the den is two packmates short. Jimin goes into Tae's library room and returns empty-handed. Jungkook looks from the couch to Jin's side, his smile falling. “Did they leave already?”

Jin covers his nose with his sleeve. Scowling in Jungkook's direction. “Yeah, about an hour ago.”

“Damn,” Jungkook pouts, “I really wanted to see them off.”

Jin turns back to his pancakes with a huff before Jimin can catch his eye.  Jimin moves close, but Jin sidesteps him so fluidly that Hobi could almost convince himself that it is just that- fluid and thoughtless.

But Hobi’s not sure. Something feels off. Jin’s scent is too sour, too disjointed like the sweetness and sourness are separate notes for it to be entirely incidental. Jin wrinkles his nose, eyes on the batter, whisking it smooth (he'd deemed the first batch non-palatable and started all over again, under the threat of tears), “Can you shower Jiminie? And would someone open the windows- it’s stifling in here.”

Jimin is a good alpha, just nods and looks Jin over. “Okay hyung, are you okay?”

“I’m fine Minnie just-“ Jin ignores Jimin’s puppy eyes and Jungkook’s and Tae’s (Yoongi still hasn’t torn his eyes off of the driveway) gesturing wildly with the whisk. “If you don’t all settle then you'll have to have breakfast on the table instead of the couch where I know you stinky little pups want to eat it. I’ll count to three. One”

That’s all it takes, and the three of them are leaping hand over hand to sit on the couch instead. Jin fluffs back, satisfied at being obeyed. Hobi stays close. Jimin scents over Tae’s shoulder and then heads upstairs.

“Let me help?” Hobi offers, and Jin nods, sidestepping him once again as Hobi reaches around him to turn on the electric griddle.

Hobi doesn’t play music while they cook for the sake of Saturday morning cartoons (they’re not cartoons- just the episode of the drama that Tae missed last night when she decided she’d rather retreat upstairs with you and Hobi instead of watching it with Jin. And it’s a Wednesday, not a Saturday) the familiar just-seen sounds do not lull Jin into a reverie, because Jin is not easily lulled this morning.

Something is wrong with Jin hyung, and he just won’t say what.

Instead of retreating to the couch to cuddle like Hobi can tell Jin needs, he just keeps cooking. Even though Hobi's usually the one who handles pancakes, makes them into nice hearts and stars and squiggles. Not the weird and lopsided ovals that Jin makes. Jin just can’t sit down or stop moving, can't stop the feeling like something bad will happen if he stops-

An animal claws at his chest, a feeling without a name, hungry and frightened. A wolf backed into a corner will bite and Jin feels claustrophobic- something pressing in around him from all sides.

Your scent and Jungkook’s scents are the only ones unoffensive for some reason (Yoongi's would be too- if he didn't smell so worried), maybe it's because you're among the lowest in the hierarchy. Hobi's is a little better- if only because he smells like soft alpha instead of heady strong alpha. Hobi’s caramel scent is mild. At ease.

For that reason alone, he's allowed to stay close. 

Something in Jin's chest purrs when he gets Jin a plate for the finished pancakes. What a good alpha, what a capable alpha. So thoughtful.

Pack Alpha chose well.

Pack alpha? Where is alpha? Abandoned? Alone? Pup? Where is pup? Stole pup. Bad alpha. Nest thief. Icky alphas shouldn't steal pups that don't belong to them. Need pup. Need nest, need pack alpha, need-

Jin breathes in for 5 and out for 9. Unsure why his instincts are making a rare appearance this morning, why he's feeling his inner omega chomping at the edges of his mind for a chance to get out.

He busies himself making more pancakes than any one pack could conceivably eat in one morning. No matter how many times Hobi and Tae ask him to just rest. To put the batter away for later, he just hums at them and moves on.

It’s like he’s worried he’ll lose his momentum if he sits. Standing in front of the sizzling griddle with a spatula in hand his pout ever-present. Making more and more pancakes even though almost everyone is full. Jimin comes back and takes a good stack. Jin almost purrs in satisfaction.

Jin hasn’t even eaten a single one.

Jungkook watches Jin from the kitchen island where he munches on his plate, not taking his eyes off of the other omega. Lips glossy from maple syrup.

The pancakes pile up high with no one to eat them and the hours drag on and on. Past the time when you and Namjoon should have arrived at the onsen. Jungkook’s cheeks are sticky and round with the bites. Jin says he’s not hungry, but the truth is his stomach is roiling with nausea.

Yoongi and Hobi cast glances at each other over his head, at least whenever Yoongi tares his focus away from the driveway.

Jin hyung might be inconsolable, but Yoongi's distress is a little more manageable. He steps close as they wash dishes, bumping elbows and trying to catch the beta's eye. “Want to go for a drive later hyung?”

If Hobi asked you he knows you’d be up and out the door without another word. But Yoongi is not you. Yoongi just glances, looking from Hobi to the front door nervously.

Something is definitely up.

After a moment Yoongi just shakes his head, and Hobi tries not to feel a little disappointed. “Sorry Daisy, just-” Something flickers across Yoongi’s face. He’s really bad at keeping secrets, Hobi doesn't know how he kept the whole mafia thing under wraps for so long. His concern for you is so palpable that Hobi almost wants to call you just to alleviate it.

(That wouldn't be right, the whole pack had agreed to leave your and Namjoon's time alone, to give you both space this weekend. It's okay. It's going to be okay; they'll survive.)

(This sucks, not having everyone togeather sucks, everything sucks.)

Maybe Hobi doesn't understand Yoongi's single-minded focus- not being mated and all. Does Yoongi feel your absence like a physical ache? Or is it more of a wound without any blood? What does it feel like- to have your soul-bonded partner so far away?

The beta hums, looking back out the window. Noodle is out there, in the middle of the cul-de-sac staring yoongi down through the kitchen window.

Yoongi flinches. "Jesus Christ that fucking cat-"

Hobi glances up and smiles. Noodle's tail goes up and he trots to the front door at the sight of Hobi in the window. Hobi snorts, "He's just like you waiting for her to come home."

“He is not like me, if I was a cat I'd be less fluffy. And probably black."

"Whatever you say hyung."

Jin snorts, getting in on it, acting normal for the first time in hours and Hobi wants to sag against the countertop in relief. "You'd have a rat tail. it would have like no hair."

"Would not"

"Would too-"

Jimin's footsteps thunder down the stairs. "I'd be a Calico!"

"You'd be a munchkin Minnie- not a calico."

"Can I be a Norwegian forest cat? The orange ones? They're so pretty!"

Tae prattles on about Warrior Cats, one of the first series that she ever read, and everyone lets her talk about the story because everyone is sort of hopelessly in love with Tae. As the only girl home right now- she deserves a little bit of indulging.

Jungkook stays silent, watching Jin. It's a little unnerving like Noodle watching Yoongi through the open window. Jin ignores him.

Hobi puts the bowl of pancake batter to the side. Reaching out to tangle his hand with Yoongi, kicking a hip against the counter. “You sure getting out of here might not help you for a little bit?” It's a weak offering even to Hobi's own ears. Yoongi tips his head to the TV.

"It's just getting good, maybe- maybe later?" Hobi hums in agreement, later he can handle. Later still means there might be more instead of outright rejection. 

On the screen, the K-drama villain has a predictable meltdown about a trivial work conflict. Tae sits with her legs folded under her at rapt attention.

There is a brush between her and Jimin on the couch. Hobi wishes he could capture the way that Jimin is looking at her and save it to show you. He's drinking in her little ohs and ahs like they're ambrosia as he combs her hair back and does her little French braids. Jimin has been practicing. Hobi watches as he delicately tucks her little baby hairs into the twist, not missing a single one.

Tae's bubblegum mouth widens at the love confession on screen. "I knew it! I knew he couldn't have secondary lead syndrome!" Jimin just huffs letting Tae shift moving with her before the braids have a chance to pull out of his hands.

"You were right" he agrees, "I shouldn't have been suspicious." Tae glances back at him, smiles in that told you so but I'm not going to say it way, and then turns back. Hobi smiles a little; he’s so down bad.

Jungkook sits at the kitchen island instead of the couch, alternating between watching the TV and watching Jin. Eyes bright with suspicion.

Jin flips each of the pancakes in quick secession, goes back to whipping up fresh batter, and then goes back to flipping so quick that it almost gives Hobi whiplash. Yoongi notices it too, goes over to Jin’s side trying to touch his elbow but is met with a short-tempered glare.

“Jinnie honey, I think you’ve made enough pancakes.”

Jin scoffs and continues, it doesn’t matter that it’s well into the afternoon now, that really- they could and should be making dinner at this point. The whole day has come and gone with the pack just like this, cooking pancakes and watching Jin like he’s a ticking time bomb.

“Just one more-” Yoongi sighs. Jin goes back to flipping the pancakes. Doing it with too much force, too much finesse.

Jin tries to flip one and misses. It lands batter-side down on the floor with a wet thwack.

Hobi, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jin all look at it for a second. And then Jin sort of predictably- sort of out of nowhere, bursts into tears.

“Hyung? Hyung, what’s up? Hey don’t-"

Jin scrubs at his eyes angrily, shaking his head and stopping Hobi from cupping his cheeks. Side-stepping Yoongi’s out-stretched hands, and slapping the entire metal bowl of pancake batter (still a quarter full) into the sink with a loud clang of dishes and ceramic. Maybe something breaks.

He waves off Hobi’s hands, big rivulets carving their way down his cheeks.

Jimin reaches to pause the drama. Getting up in about two seconds, detangling himself from Tae with a startled, “hyung?”

Jungkook huffs and everything feels dissonant. How is it that everything feels off with just you and Namjoon gone? Everyone is a little on edge. If Namjoon were here he’d just hug Jin and everything would be fine. If you were here- you’d bound up between both Hobi and Yoongi and make them go on a walk with you to see more flowers and it would be just that- easy and effortless.

This is not easy, and the effort is palpable. The way that Jin has to steady his breath and articulate his words. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine just-”

Jin shares a look with Yoongi and Yoongi looks away.

Now Hobi really feels left out, hands tightening, looking from one packmate to another, “what’s wrong? What aren’t you guys saying? Why are you crying?”

Jungkook’s lips smack together with the sound of syrup sticking to his plush lips. His fork scrapes dully against his plate and Hobi grits his teeth. 

“What?” he stresses.

Jungkook just shrugs and chews. “Yoongi's upset because he knew Y/n was in pre-heat but he let her leave anyway and now he's regretting it” The ice water feeling of shock settling over his whole body is enough that Hobi almost misses Jungkook’s next words. “-And Jin Hyung’s upset because he’s in pre-heat too and just doesn’t want to admit it. Because if he admits it then it means that his alpha left his nest with his pup and that makes him feel sad. He’s feeling sensitive so don't tease.”

Are you in pre-heat? Is this really happening? Hobi thinks back to how you’d looked when you’d left; How you’d looked cold just standing in the kitchen, looked a little ashen too- like you hadn’t been able to wake up all the way.

You hadn’t looked like you were going into pre-heat this morning- granted going into heat looks a little different on every omega but you were nothing like Jin is now; snappish, overstimulated, bratty. If anything, you’d just looked tired and a little cold. almost like…

Almost like your body was telling you to stay put. To stay and nest where it’s safe.

Only you hadn’t listened, and now you're three hours away from them with only one alpha instead of the many you'll need.

Hobi feels so many things in quick succession. One second shocked the next insecure and sort of disappointed in himself for not realizing it and being more attuned with his packmates. The next thing he feels is begrudging relief because Hobi's not being a bad packmate; none of them know just what your pre-heat looks like yet. They can all be forgiven for not noticing- Even Yoongi who despite the mating bond has never seen you in heat before.

There's also a possibility that they're wrong too- you could be going into a false heat, or you could just have been looking sick this morning. There is no real way to know without you here. If you actually are in heat, Namjoon will notice.

Jin is another story.

Jin's pre-heats never look like this.

Usually, he starts them feeling needy and over-tired. Sometimes his temperature drops because Jin's body is trying to force him to nest. the same way yours might have been this morning.

Then his body pushes him closer and closer to omegaspace. That's the first tip-off; because Jin doesn't need omegaspace the same way you or Jungkook do. Whereas you get almost babyish, sluggish, and tiny- Jin gets pouty and mothering like a broody hen.  It's the difference between pack-omegaspace and regular omegaspace.

Suddenly, the pile of pancakes makes a lot of sense. Jin isn't just making sure his own body is prepared for his heat, but the rest of theirs is too. His nestmates, his pups.

9 times out of 10 Namjoon knows before Jin does, tells him, warns him and the rest of them, and the pack has more time to prepare. Jungkook is a little more sporadic, rarely ever goes cold before he goes hot, just treads straight into a fever and omegaspace zoomies that slowly melts into a need to be bred full.

But when Hobi breathes deep he catches it- the faintest hint of cloying sweetness drawing them in. Breeding hormones are to an alpha like a moth is to a flame and Jin is only just starting to smell sweeter. He's so upset that Hobi can hardly make sense of the sweetness in the sourness of his scent.  

That's the thing about broody pack omega's- they go protective before they go sweet.

Jin goes from upset to angry quick enough to give the whole pack whiplash. Enough that Jimin has to get in between Yoongi and him with the way Jin lunges. Jin's teeth snap sending the rest of the reeling. Jimin is several heads shorter than Jin, and can’t contain him or the anger of an omega on a hormone high.     Jin's hiss is acidic as he grips Yoongi's shoulders around Jimin, “You let my pup go away, you let my pup go when she could be in heat? Have you lost your mind?”

For what it’s worth Yoongi does not flinch. He doesn’t even move away when Jin grabs him by his chubby cheeks. Jin looks like he hasn’t even absorbed the second part of Jungkook’s message.

“Namjoon’s clueless when it comes to heats! He’s an alpha- he’s not going to be able to help her nest or keep her safe or-” Jin pales, actually goes white as a sheet. Yoongi’s teeth worry at his lower lip.

“She wanted to go, she wanted to make her own choices and she said she wasn’t in pre so I trusted her.”

“She is a pup Yoongi!” Jin bares his teeth. Eyes wild, that picture of a pack omega whose nest has just been threatened. Whose pup has just been stolen.

“She deserves to decide what she wants to do for herself- if she wants to spend her heat with just Namjoon then we’ve got to respect that."

Jin doesn’t like it- how Yoongi’s talking back. He Likes what Yoongi's insinuating even less: that you wouldn’t want the pack to help you through your heat, that you do not need them.

But you do need them. You need them for everything like a pup would. To remind you to brush your hair and be safe and careful. You certainly need them to mind your pleasure and well-being like a garden. You need your pack omega. Yoongi is being stupid. He needs Jin to guide him too- Obviously.

Jin moves, dragging Yoongi over to the kitchen island. For what it's worth Yoongi doesn't fight him or tell him off. Looking just as shocked by the turn of events as they all are. Jin looks a little wild. Tae hides her laugh behind a hand.

It’s not often Jin takes the Hyungs over his lap for a spanking. Hobi just sighs from behind his ruffled apron when he realizes what's about to happen.

“In front of my pancakes hyung? Really?”

Jin holds Yoongi’s nape in between his fingers and bends him low over the counter before dispensing a volley of swats over his behind. they're not hard, Yoongi looks more shocked than scolded. More turned on than upset.

“My pup does not belong to Namjoon!” Yoongi does not push against Jin’s grip because even he can see this is what Jinnie needs. If Jin really is in pre-heat then this is like a balm to his emotions- friable and feeble. Jin doesn't tolerate feeling out of control and if doling out a punishment is what he needs to feel steady then the whole pack will get on their knees.

Jin’s almost teary when he says it “She should be with me- especially if she’s in pre-heat. She’s mine- not Namjoon’s- not yours- mine.”

Other omega’s serve a purpose during the pack omega’s heat; they're there to make sure the nest stays tended to, prepared for pups and alpha’s. Other omega’s are there to warm and fluff and cuddle between the spikes of heat when the need for a knot becomes a need for simple closeness. With scent and touch sensitivity heightened- a soft omega is the equivalent of a fresh breath of air.

(Even then, Jin’s anger at you for not being home is a little over the top. Especially given that out of all of them Yoongi has maybe the greatest incentive to want you home).

Jungkook knows this, he lets Jin have a few spanks, a dozen before he stands up, wipes his hands clean of sticky syrup, and reaches out to pinch Jin’s scent gland.

A whine shocks out of Jin’s throat and he clamps a hand over his mouth, blinking rapidly. The rest of the pack watches as the wild threatened look vanishes from Jin’s eyes and it’s like he’s lucid for a moment. He seems to realize what he’s doing looking down at the position he has Yoongi in. The beta’s flaming cheeks and shocked blinking. The vaguely amused look in Tae’s eyes, the gentle resignation and concern in Jungkook’s. He lets Yoongi go quickly, hands trembling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Yoongi gets up, pink-cheeked, and Jin backs away from all of them. “I didn’t mean to do that- I didn’t even want to do that.” He’s close to tears again.  It’s not the first time one of them got an impromptu spanking from the pack omega. But what is shocking is Jin’s guilt.

There is a certain level of dominance that they've all agreed to all consented to being a part of this pack. Jin didn't even hurt Yoongi, and he's not thinking clearly. Hobi doubts there's even red marks.

Jin just needs an outlet for his instincts.

Jungkook stalks towards him, determined, and the hair on the back of Jin’s neck stands up.

“I think it’s cute that you’re so worried about her when you’re so clearly in pre-heat too hyung. Don't ignore me.”

Jin nearly snaps his teeth with how quick he goes toe to toe with the youngest. The alpha’s do worse regularly when tensions are high, but still it’s so strange to see Jin act anything like aggressive- especially directed against the youngest and for hardly anything more than a cocky tone. Jin and Jungkook go toe to toe.

“I’m not ignoring you, you're just wrong. I’m not in pre-heat."

Jungkook just grins and reaches out to touch Jin’s chest. Cupping him where he knows he’s sensitive. Jin lets out a high-pitched keen and almost sags, would probably fall if Jungkook didn't catch him by the elbow. 

It makes every alpha in the room stand to attention. Sit up. Nervous. “Sensitive here, right? And you still want to say you’re not- when you’ve been snappy the whole day because you just want to nest and not be upright- when you just want what your alphas aren’t giving you- your omega’s and your knots.”

Jin bites his lips, covering his chest with his hands and stepping back. Looking a little stunned. “You’re in pre-heat hyung.”

The whole room is silent, but after a second, Hobi reaches for Jin’s phone on the counter. “I’m calling Namjoon.”

Jin’s hand wraps around Hobi’s wrist stopping him- his upper lip lifts in a near feral hiss.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

~-~

(You and namjoon)

You wrap the terry cloth robe around you more firmly, fighting back a blush as the manager of the onsen stands up from your side. If she were an alpha, things would be a lot different and you doubt that Namjoon would let her get at all close to you. But Namjoon doesn’t have any problem with letting her check you over, verifying that the water wasn’t too hot and that everything is fine.

Everything is far from fine.

There had to have been some reason for you to pass out no more than an hour ago. You didn’t just fall asleep- that much you know, after coming too to black spots in your vision and dizziness so complete you doubt you could stand without falling over right now. To Namjoon frantically calling your name and covering you with a towel.

Everything smells a little off too- a little dampened, you paw at your nose, wondering why you can’t seem to smell the omega- given she’s old. But you can’t smell Namjoon either. It’s a little distressing, not being able to smell your pack alpha. Your nose doesn’t feel stuffy.

Weird.

Namjoon checked you over too. You’d already sort of been coming around after he dragged your limp body out of the hot water, but he’d been a little startled. You’re kind of thankful that his frantic call had fucked up, that he’d accidentally called the front desk instead of 911 if only to spare yourself the embarrassment of a trip to the hospital and probably a trip home.  

You feel too sluggish for that- like everything is moving at 2x speed and your brain is on pause. Now, you rub at your nose and let Namjoon and the omega duke it out. “It was probably just the heat of the onsen. Young omegas tend to be a little more affected by sharp temperature changes.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, “she’s taken hot baths before.”

The elderly omega raises her eyebrow, “In magnesium-rich water?”

Namjoon deflates and admits “No” after a second. She stands from the bed and nods like her work is done. “it was in the pamphlet. I recommend you rest well tonight and then enjoy it in the morning, you’ve traveled far.” Namjoon holds your hand tight. His fingers pressed to your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his skin.

“The pamphlet?” The manager hunts it down, and after a second digs it out from under the bed, cast from the bed to the floor by the mishap with your suitcase. Leave it to Joonie to be so excited he didn’t look before he put it down. Properly scolded, Namjoon takes the pamphlet.

Namjoon says something to the old lady in the doorway, comes back inside with a few plastic shopping bags, and you remember the food. It must have been delivered sometime in the last hour, because it still looks and smells hot when he sets it on the side table.

Huh, your nose doesn't seem to have any problem smelling the food- just Namjoon. Weird.

Namjoon’s looking at you in a way that you’re familiar with. The same way he looks at Jungkook after his seizures. “Can you get me a shirt?” Namjoon gives you one of his, probably the one he’d planned on sleeping in. He watches as you pull it over your head, watches as it pools on your bare thigh.

It’s nighttime now, and the lights outside are mainly pointed up at the trees lighting them from below. You leave the large glass doors open, cautioning in some of the warm sweet-smelling air and a few cherry blossoms inside. They flutter and stick to the big puddles on the wooden floor. Puddles from you when Namjoon dragged you out of the water catch the light like silver.

Namjoon’s medical bag is already on the side. He must have gotten it from the car although you’re not sure when. You look at him and he tucks his chin looking a bit like a kicked puppy. The concern in his eyes makes you feel all warm in your stomach.

“Are you going to keep looking at me like that until you check me again?”

“Yes” you make a noise, and surrender yourself to him again, Namjoon moves- almost jaunty.

He checks your blood pressure again, the movement behind your eyes with a small flashlight, you follow his instructions like the good pup you are. Everything quiet except for the faint trickle of water outside and the low hum of his voice.

When Namjoon asks you to lean forward so that he can sneak a stethoscope onto your back and listen to your lungs and heart, you nose and nuzzle at his shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering. After a few moments, he makes to stand back but your arms tug him close, keep him that way, almost purring.

Now you know why you couldn’t smell him earlier- it’s because you weren’t close enough, now you’re under his thumb you can finally smell him again and he smells so musky. You drink him in, rubbing small circles with your nose.

"Pup" he stresses. You pay him no mind.

Namjoon smells good today. Really really good. you’re not sure what it is but- he smells richer, maybe not any different than usual- but almost like you can sense more. Pick up on every little thing, every pulse of his heartbeat makes his scent flutter out stronger like a ripple. Promising safety and protection. You really are going to start purring.

Namjoon stops you the second before you try to bite him.

You blink up at him, mouth open. His hand grips your cheeks and you close your mouth with a faint click. "Sorry- I don't know why I-" Namjoon bites his lip while you rub your eyes, he waits until you can quiet the purring in your throat. You search for the word, “purry? bitey?”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon’s still watching you like a hawk.

You blink slowly, eyelids heavy. You’re still really tired, really drowsy. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your heart rate is a little slow. I’m worried.”

“I’m fine Joonie.” He looks at your lips and then your eyes, “really.” You shake yourself awake a little. “Wanna eat so much food we get a food coma and then sleep it off?” It’s barely 6pm but it sounds like a good idea. Namjoon tosses his stethoscope into the chair in the corner of the room and sighs.

Luckily- someone else but Tae seems to have a hand in at least packing you one or two comfy sets of clothes. You’re mostly clean, too sleepy and dizzy to think about showering again. You dress deftly in your pj’s and Namjoon dresses with his and sets out the food you rest up against the bed, it’s not as good as your nest but still- the sheets are smooth and soft.

You wrinkle your nose, you can’t smell anyone but Namjoon, lifting your sleeve to your nose you breathe a deep breath and get a bit of Jin and Jungkook- that does more to settle you.

It’s been a long time since you’ve nested without either of them or their scents. You’re not sure you like it, you’re not sure you want to nest here.

Namjoon comes back with the rest of the food, but leaves it in a heap on the side table. There’s a lump in his throat and his scent sours. “I’m sorry this isn’t more fun.”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Joonie, and this is fun. I’m sorry I passed out.”

Your pack alpha shakes his head, “not your fault. We’ll just wait until you get a bit more rest. We can enjoy it tomorrow, right?” You nod, and shuffle over to the edge of the bed so you can kiss him. His pout turns into a smile against your mouth but it still feels like an apology.

“Even just lying here- pinging out on food is still gonna be fun.” Your tone turns to tease. “I mean I know we both through this was supposed to be like a romantic vacation rather than a vacation vacation but-"

Namjoon shakes his head, “I just want to spend time with you.”   

The two of you get fat and happy on dumplings and pork fried rice, the kind of salty bad American Chinese food that you and Namjoon are both familiar with, that you both like even if the rest of the pack doesn’t.

Over the next hour with the TV droning and the warm air wafting into the room- you talk about everything. Spilling peach rings and gummy bears and red vines onto the bedspread. Your feet against his shins, your legs over his lap.

You talk about everything- your childhoods, the fact that yoongi's really close to finishing renovations on the house, getting Noodle a sibling. All of it. That one time that Jimin and Hobi had a competition to see who could eat the most crab Rangoon's in a single sitting and almost vomited. Everything. Reclined back against the bed. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that you’re alright, that nothing is wrong.

But then you get up to brush your teeth.

Namjoon is just shutting the door and the outside lights, turning your room into a pocket of dim yellow light. half of the food put away in the mini fridge but the other half still out and open for grazing. Everything has started to feel cozy and sleepy again and maybe- maybe tomorrow when you wake up, you'll finally feel better.

You’re just rounding the corner into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when the cramping hits you.

“Ow ow ow what the fuck-”

You almost drop to your knees at the pain, crouching over, catching yourself on the doorway. curling over, anything to release the pressure, the horrible tenseness and unfamiliar pain in your stomach. You go white as a sheet and Namjoon looks so startled. Shouting your name and jumping over the bed, knocking over an open and nearly full container of fried pork rice plain onto the ground. Your toothbrush falls onto the hotel room floor.

“Pup! What’s wrong!? What’s-” Namjoon’s hands are on your shoulders and You’re still holding your stomach, blinking back the tears in your eyes and whimpering. Namjoon pries your fingers away from your stomach to see- but there’s nothing. Namjoon touches your stomach- and you keen.

Namjoon’s nostrils flare. And he picks you up from where you’re crumpled on the floor. It’s not so difficult for him, although he sets you down on the bed with less finesse.

The cramping lasts for a few more seconds. You’re panting by the time it dissipates. Namjoon makes it so so much better- rubbing a soothing hand up and down your spine, tucking his chin over the ball of your shoulder, and holding you. Ushering you as close to his chest and neck as he can. Something about your alpha being close makes all of this better- makes the cramps subside.

“It’s okay pup, it’s okay, I’ve got you, alphas got you.”

Namjoon’s muscles are shaking. He waits until the cramping stops and you're just breathing heavily. But then he sets you back gently against the bed. You’re dazed and dizzy where you lie. Whining in displeasure when Namjoon pulls away. Trying to guide your hands away from your stomach. shanking your head as he tries to get you to stop holding it.

“Let me see pup, let me see- Omega.”

Your body breaks out into full body shivers, hands going limp, you freeze and bear your throat so quick you don't even realize what you're doing. Head spinning. room spinning. Your Focus narrows down to Namjoon and his command, Namjoon and what he wants Namjoon and-

His eyebrows are knit together and he’s concentrating on something- thinking hard as he gently detangles your hands

Namjoon swallows, then leans down. Ducking in and sniffing at your stomach. Breathing deep. Nose brushing your naval.

He jerks back abruptly, eyes wide.

Namjoon bursts into action, crossing the room and going into the bathroom where he starts to shove your clothes into your suitcase. Everything from the crumpled lingerie that had tumbled out earlier, to his dirty clothes and bathing suit, everything shoved back inside with little care.

“Fuck- fuck-“

You sit up, hair ruffled, “Joonie?” Your dress for tomorrow night gets stuffed into the suitcase roughly, with little care for the delicate silk he can’t get it closed around the hanger.

“We’re going home.” Namjoon looks so stressed, you half wish you’d never driven all the way out here in the first place.

“What? Why-“

Namjoon’s phone is on the bed and buried in the sheets, but it starts to ring, its tone loud and shrill. Namjoon hesitates, looking at you and then at the phone. But it’s Hobi's contact, and you reach for it almost before he does.

“Hyung thank god-” someone's shouting in the background, it’s Tae even if Hobi's phone is calling. Namjoon put it on speaker but the overlap of loud voices makes the speaker on his phone crackle.

“Give me the phone- I can-” “No let her speak!” You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so bratty, Jungkook whines and it’s hard to tell exactly who hit the phone and Who exactly called. Their voices overlap, everyone is trying to speak at once. “Stop squirming-” "hurry up, Hobi can only distract him for so long."

Namjoon doesn’t need to raise his voice to get them to comply, just says “Guys!” in a slightly stern tone and they all fall silent.

“Something’s happening, I’m coming home- we- she’s-” Namjoon looks at you, and you get the sense that he knows something and he’s just not telling you.

“Oh, thank god” Yoongi sounds relived.

“Please hurry,” Jimin asks, but Jungkook comes over, snapping his reply.

“We need to tell him- Jin hyung-" There’s a sound of skin hitting skin, and muffled voices like someone just put their hand over Jungkook’s mouth.

Namjoon does not look away from the phone, hand tightening around it. “Wait what’s wrong? What’s going on with Jin?”

You perk up at the sound of his name. The pack omega? What possibly could be going on that they need to tell you about. “Omega?” You ask, and Namjoon almost hisses.

“Pup" The relief and tiredness is palpable in Jin's voice, he sounds substantially less stern when he hears your voice. "I’m fine, pup, just-” Silence again. You wish they’d face timed, that you could see their faces and they could see yours.

“We waited until we were sure and Jin hyung didn’t want to say anything because he didn’t want to ruin your vacation but- but-” Jungkook stutters and Jimin comes in behind him. At the sound of one of your alpha’s, you chirp. Slapping a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“Jin hyung is in heat.”

You hear a sound, something like a door opening, and Jin's stern tone comes through the line. "You better not be doing what I think you're doing. I told you I didn't want to tell them until tomorrow morning."  Jin sounds cross, sounds actually angry.

Namjoon looks down at you, gaze conflicted. “Fucking hell.”

“I know- I’m sorry, we waited until we were sure but he started feeling crampy a few minutes ago-”

You touch your own stomach, crampy. Huh that means-

"No, I'm not upset just-” 

You take the phone from Namjoon, “alpha.” Your keen is so breathy, you don’t know what tips Hobi off if it’s that or the breathlessness to your voice, the way you sound close to tears.

Leaving the den was a very very bad idea. Jimin falls silent on the other line, everyone is quiet for a moment, but then the phone explodes with the sound of arguing.

"I was right! I told you she was in heat hyung's- I told you so!"

"Jungkook, now is so not the time-"

"Ow!"

There's the sound of squabbling, someone pushing at someone else maybe. something hits the phone and it makes a muffled crackling sound. "Jinnie- no biting- hey- no- guys."

You and Namjoon look at the phone, and everyone is silent for a second before you lean over it. "Daddy?"

the sounds of a tussle cut off. “Pup” Jin sounds so sad over the line, not at all like he just bit someone. “Can you come home? I think I’m gonna go crazy if you’re not-”

“Yeah, Namjoon’s already packing.”

“Thank god,” Jin sounds close to tears, you’re dizzy, but not so dizzy and out of it that you don't grasp the gravity of the situation. not so dizzy that you can’t do what you need to. Jin sounds so so sad.

"I didn’t want it to be this way, I wanted your first heat with us to be just you- so I could take care of you, but it doesn't look like it's going to turn out that way.”

“Can you make me a nest Jinnie? A heat nest? I can’t, I don’t know how.”

“Yes.” Jin says, voice going husky. “Gonna make you the best heat nest, gonna be so cozy. Gonna be perfect.” He promises, and you smile. He’s already feeling hazy, you can tell.

You’re feeling hazy too. Cheek falling against the bed, trying to nuzzle into the phone. “Can’t wait, wanna nest with you-”  

“Shit.” “Jin don’t fall over- here-” you hear a thump, like someone’s guiding him to a chair.

Namjoon takes control of the situation. “I’ll let you know when we’re on the road.”

“No- don’t text and drive.”

“Love you, bye, see you in a bit.” Namjoon hangs up and heaves the suitcase up onto the bed to finish packing. You start to move, but he shoots you a look. “Stay here, I’ll carry you.”

“Joonie it’s just pre-heat, I can still walk-”

Namjoon shoves your clothes, your bikini, into the confines of the suitcase. Red strings tangle in his fingers. “Don’t care.”

“But-” Namjoon darts forward, looming over you and you have to fight the urge to tilt your head to the side and show your neck. Holding you by the chin a little roughly. It has the desired effect.

Your instincts preen, alpha's so good. Alpha's so strong, knows just how to handle you. Your heartbeat quickens, and Namjoon glowers. “I think if I don’t get you home right now, and back to the den I might go-” Namjoon hesitates, and you see it, how he trembles. How he gently guides you to sit back on the bed. And you recognize the stress in his voice.

An alpha and an omega outside of their den during a heat is a scary thing. Namjoon's instincts are so close to the surface. You hope you don't see anyone on your way out. If anyone looked at you too long you don't know what Namjoon might do. 

Namjoon will not go feral at the idea of his omega suffering through a heat outside of the Den. Namjoon will not go crazy. He will drive you back to the house at an appropriate speed, and you won’t go into heat on the way home because realistically you have at least another 24 hours before either of your heats hit fully.

Most pre-heats last anywhere from 24 to 48 hours, Jin’s are always a little longer because he's older.

Yours? He’s not so sure about.

Your eyelashes flutter and your scent spikes. He strokes reassuringly down your scent gland and you pant, you feel it all the way at the tips of your fingers, trembling. It's so good having Namjoon touch you there. You clench your thighs and whine as he pulls away. And you know that's as much as he can give you right now. To settle your instincts for the drive and to settle himself too.

This is the moment the pack has been waiting for. The moment they’ve carefully coached you towards with every meal and every bit of encouragement. In many ways- each courting gift was meant for this moment. Every blanket and pillow, every stuffed animal and matching pajama set was all for this; the moment you’d need every soft thing, every strong alpha you have at your fingertips.

They won’t fail you now. Namjoon won’t fail either of you.

“How long was your last pre-heat last pup?”

You blink, thinking back while he stoops to put on your socks, you are a little cold you realize, your body reallocating heat to your internal organs, leaving your extremities chilly and trembling. Contrary to popular belief- heats don’t always mean fever. Sometimes they mean you get so cold that you need other bodies to keep you warm.

You’re at that stage now, no wonder why the water earlier made you sleepy- complete and total warmth is what you need right now- what your body craves is a nest and your packmates. You can’t regulate your temperature on your own- you need the others to do it for you.

“It wasn’t quick, like- maybe 30 hours, granted I didn’t really realize I was going into heat so I’m not sure, I don’t-” Somehow, you don’t think this one will give you quite so much time to adjust. Namjoon soothes you with a finger running down the back of your neck, he won’t scruff you unless you need him to- worried that it will send you prematurely hurtling into heat.

They need to be careful- Namjoon needs to be careful. This is your first heat in a long long time and your body might behave unpredictably. They need to be careful not to bring it on too strong.

You need people who won't trigger you too quick, you need Jin and Jungkook and Yoongi.

You think it might come quick, with how intense all of this is feeling. Every step Namjoon takes away makes you anxious. Excites that prey part animal of you that knows you’ll be vulnerable for the next few days- probably the whole week.

Namjoon locks the door while he puts the suitcase in the car and then comes back for you. Taking no chances. “Namjoon,” you say, when he comes back into the hotel room. You gesture to the mess on the floor between your feet. The box of takeout that he upended on his race to get to you when you collapsed.

“What are we gonna do about the mess?"

~-~

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Notes:

this chapter ended up alot more sexual than i planned for it too. i know i promised fluff but- it is really sexual in nature and i'm only realizing that now.

i realize that in my head the actuall toilet part of the bathroom upstairs was in a seperate little room like- almost a half bath inside the bath? but i can change it just for this part because it's like- bily is my sandbox and i can play in it <3

i don't know why sertian parts of the omega x omega dynamic really really apeals to me like- almost more than the alpha x omega parts do sometimes.

its really soft and just a tiny easter egg- but when hobi talks about planting the magnolia tree- i need everyone to know that namjoon and jin's first daughter ends up being namged magnolia- or maggie for short, and she's a little carbon copy of namjoon and a total tom boy and ands up climbing it like, basically every day, it's like her chill spot <3

if we're getting down into the nitty gritty of what had happened in the hot tub scene between tae and hobi and the m/c i think hobi had been really really curious about the m/c's addictive slick but obviously- he's triggered by giving women oral sex from moonbyul so he's like- obviously nervous and doesn't want to like- actually have the m/c ride his face, tae tae knows this and probably spent all of that, scene feeding hobi little drops of the m/c's slick from her fingers, had probably made the m/c sit on the edge of the hot tub and bend back to show hobi how wet she gets and nose and nuzzle at her hole over her bathing suit before pulling it to the side and showing him that her pussy is so cute it's hardly scary. obviously hobi does not eat the m/c out but maybe tae can't resist.

i know there are alot of flash back's and little scenes in between the scene that's actually happening- i wonder if this is the way i should write them? do you guys like the part where they're talking about the free use? yoongi's flue? or should i have edited those parts out?

where it not for the m/cs heat- i think it would have taken yoongi and her until the following fall to be intimate again. it would have happened one day when she came in from her classes all cold and damp from october (is that a spoiler?) and he'd crumple and give it to her slow and warm.

tae and the m/c's scene in the bedroom was supposed to be alot more breif but i made it longer because i love mommy tae and i missed her<3

tae kissing over her panties is so???? feral and horny of her??? when will that be meeeee on both sides of it honestly? can you imagine having a cute little girlfriend that lets you dress them up???? the fantasy of having someone who wants you so much they just cuddle into you all the time??? tae is one lucky girl 😭

i worry that this chapter is going to be like the others where i delve too far into each little thing and the bigger picture of it all is lost by the end of it but! maybe i don't care- i want mommy tae so bad :(

i really really love that tae calls the rest of the pack "our boys" because really- they are tae and the m/c's boys like- thats so soft for her to call them that. how much do you think jimin would blush to be called "my little boyfriend" by tae??? i think he'd short circuit.

listen, i know that canonically bily takes place in boston but i just couldn't resist with the onsen- i know nothing like this exists on the east coast but still <3 i wanted to write it so i made it my own.

i really like how you kind of get a taste for the dynamic of everyone at home without namjoon and the m/c- like the moment when they're talking about what kind of cat they'd be if they where a cat is so cute and packy <3 i wish i had a pack like that.

broody jinnie broody jinnie brooody jinnie <3 i love love love describing him as a broody hen, because if you'd ever been around a broody hen you know they are so sweet! but protective!!! and fluffy! we have a hen thats broody right now and her name is wonton.

The m/c having cramps as apart of her pre-heat symptoms is because i was also having cramps while i was writing this part. as was the american chineese food part! cuz i was craving it <3

namjoon deserves some major kudos for this chapter because tell me why that boy suffers

[onehoplessromantic]

MASTERLIST

Jeon Jungkook | Min Yoongi | Lee Minho | Lee Felix | Kim Mingyu | Bang Chan | Kim Namjoon | Jung Hoseok | Choi Seungcheol

-constantly being updated- <- (that’s a lie)

updated 8/11/2024 [guilty pleasures wc, for the birds ch 3, link check]

!!authors!! if u want ur work removed plz dm me:)

Helloooo! its been a while hasn’t it? School is dying down so I finally had a chance to update this master list! I have updated the counts and info on fics that were already there and added a bunch more (new idols get hype). another fun new thing is that im going to open my taglist, so whenever i update a new chapter or add a new fic or whatever, whoever wants to will get a notification. all you have to do is just add a note to the post that says “taglist” and ill add u, im trusting that youre over 16. anyways! enjoy the new library of fics!!!

peace 🫶🏻

PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well

fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️

Jeon Jungkook

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fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au, mild age gap (emphasis on mild, yn in grad school and yoongi in his early 30s), forbidden romance

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series | wc: 105k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️

yoongi x reader

strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non idol!au, angst, smut, eventual fluff ‼️alchohol consumption, yoongi and reader are both depressed, depressive episodes, attempted suicide, toxic relationships (readers ex), jokes about death, death, vomit, self harm, self deprecation, language (specific warnings posted for each chapter)

NOTE: please read the warnings carefully, there is a lot of heavy topics in this read

♡ Grey Area | @blushoseoks

series *ongoing* | current wc: 98,832 | 🌧️🍋

min yoongi x reader

heavy angst, language, alcohol consumption, university au, soulmate au, eventual smut, weed consumption, slow burn, death

♡ Illicit Favors | @yoongiofmine

oneshot | wc: 29k | 🍋🍋🍋

producer!yoongi x author!reader

smut with plot, friends to lovers, smut, more smut, even MORE smut, mutual pining, virgin reader, teaching sex au, this oneshot is amazing plz read it

♡ back-burner | @yoonpobs

series | wc: 95k | 🌧️🍋‼️

yoongi x f!reader

sisters best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenimies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff, one sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, insecurities, family trauma, explicit language, eventual smut, eventual fluff, MAJOR ANGST, sexual harassment, mentions of poor mental health, alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of poor health, neglecting ones health [specific warnings in chapters]

guys this is another decently heavy one with a lot of sensitive topics so make the decision that is best for you while reading this

Kim Mingyu

♡ Today was (not) a fairytale | @babyleostuff

oneshot | wc: 1.6k | 🌧️🤍

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

established relationship, mingyu forgets your anniversary…

♡ Snowbound | @papermatisse

series *ongoing* | current wc: 17.6k | 🌧️🌧️🌧️

kim mingyu x f!reader

death mentioned/near death experiences, depression, unresolved mourning, cursing, emotional neglect, slight age gap (mingyu is slightly aged up), reader implied to be smaller than mingyu, stranger danger (?), extreme weather (?)

♡ How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread) | @gyuswhore

oneshot | wc: 12.4k | 🌧️🤍

idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

one sided pining, slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, reader has issues opening up

♡ Hits Different (…’cause it’s you) | @gyuswhore

2-part series | wc: 40k | 🌧️🤍🍋

kim mingyu x reader

based off ‘hits different’ by taylor swift, brothers best friend!au, brother!seokmin, smut (part 2), friends(?) to lovers, university!au, slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, theres another woman (gasp…..but shes cool so), nayeon is a darling, seungchol is kind of annoying but we love him, smut tags in part 2

♡ Backburner | @spamgyu

series | wc: im not counting loll | 🌧️🤍

seungcheol x reader | mingyu x reader

she had grown tired of being on his backburner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he had his eyes set on for years… and with a little help from her friend, maybe… just maybe shell finally be the first choice

♡ sugar and you | @97-liners

oneshot | wc: 4.5k | 🤍

mingyu x reader

in which mingyu is an idealistic pastry chef, and you’re a cynical wedding planner who doesn’t believe in love.

fluff, just really sweet (hah) fluff, one-sided enemies to lovers

♡ back to december | @toruro

oneshot | wc: 4.3k | 🍋🤍🌧️

mingyu x reader

miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr tho), big dick mingyu, sex in a car, riding, fingering, pet names, creampie

guys that was a lot of smit warnings but i promise its not a smut fic just read plz

Lee Minho

♡ Invisible Thread | @astraystayyh

series | wc: 37k | 🤍🌧️

minho x reader

university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies cuz they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst, poor relationships with parents, insecurities, she/her reader, mention of alcohol

♡ Lost in Translation | @moonjxsung

one-shot | wc: 26.5k | 🤍🌧️🍋

minho x reader

university au, babysitter!reader, older brother!minho, smut, angst, fluff, mention of pregnancy, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), pet names, (see other warnings)

Lee Felix

♡ forgive me for what i haven’t done | @rachalixie

one-shot | wc: 17.5k | 🤍🌧️

prince!felix x princess!reader

kingdom au, angst, betrayal, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort, she/her reader, emotional manipulation and physical violence from readers father, mentions of violence

Bang Chan

♡ Dispatch | @baby-yongbok

oneshot | wc: 1.3k | 🌧️‼️

husband! 911 operator!bang chan x afab!reader

themes of home invasion, mentions of guns, please read responsibly!!!

Chan has heard a lot of calls being a 911 operator but this is never one he wanted to experience.

Kim Namjoon

♡ My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold | @daechwitatamic

series | wc: 76.3k | 🌧️🍋

KNJ x f!reader, unrequited KTH x reader

college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, pov changes, convos revolving around the past loss of immediate family members, language, drinking, angst, a LOT of poetry, eventual smut - sections will have individual warnings

Jung Hoseok

♡ Flower | @readyplayerhobi

series | wc: 177k | 🤍🌧️🍋‼️

hoseok x reader

depression, anxiety, self-loathing, lack of self-esteem, oral sex (receiving and giving) penetrative sex, fingering, kink exploration, anal, panic attack, discussion of car accidents, mentions of character death, body issues, sex toys, stress, drinking [smut isnt till later in the series btw]

Choi Seungcheol

♡ Always Only You | @honeyhotteoks

oneshot | wc: 14.2k | 🌧️🍋

s.coups x reader

non idol!seungcheol x fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, childhood friends to lovers, brothers best friend, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc are used, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, oral sex (f receiving), hand stuff, smut

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ⓒ onehopelessromantic, August 2024

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[keehomania]

successors (후계자) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

if you're born poor, that's not your fault. if you die poor, it's nobody's fault but yours. that was the way the world worked, and the only option was to live with it. whether you lived poor or lived rich, you lived with it. money was the essence of everything, it kept the world spinning. it was also the reason greed was the essence of man. all of the money mattered, even if it was a cent. it could buy anything in the world, except love.

the streets of busan bustled with life as you found yourself roaming the streets. it didn't feel like home, because it wasn't. your home or at least, what you made of it, resided on the outskirts of seoul. the poverty-stricken area that consisted of farmers and people with rich hearts, that was home. busan was thick with intensity, the sound of the night piercing your ears as you followed the coordinates your sister had sent you.

eunha was only a few years older than you, but she moved to busan the second she had the chance. she had found herself a boyfriend and, despite their recent break-up, she didn't regret the decision at all. the setting and environment itself had encouraged her to do better for herself, for her life. when she had first left, you hated her for it. you hated her for leaving you with your sick, mute mother, but you made peace with it. in the end, she was only looking to better herself and, now, she wanted you to play a role.

you knew she had struck gold as you reached the final address. truly, she had done well for herself. as you stood before the apartment door, you took a moment to admire the elegant building and the well-maintained surroundings. Tthe bustling city life outside faded into a peaceful anticipation as you approached her floor. eunha had clearly done well for herself, a stark contrast to the humble beginnings you both shared. the elevator ride up to the ninth floor felt like an eternity, your mind filled with memories of the two of you.

when you finally reached her apartment, you double-checked the number before knocking lightly. almost immediately, the door swung open, and she stood there with a wide smile. she looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and relief at seeing you. without hesitation, she pulled you into a warm hug, engulfing you in her familiar, comforting scent. “(y/n), it’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine happiness. “come in, come in!”

you stepped inside, taking in the beautifully decorated interior. the apartment was spacious, modern, and filled with personal touches that screamed eunha. from the carefully selected furniture to the framed photographs of you both on various adventures, every corner of the space radiated her personality and hard work. “you’ve done really well for yourself,” you said, admiring the place. “i’m so proud of you.”

she beamed at your words, a mixture of pride and modesty in her expression. “thank you, (y/n). it hasn’t been easy, but it’s all starting to come together.” as you settled on the plush couch, she brought out a tray of snacks and tea, sitting down beside you. she looked at you with a curious glint in her eye.

“so, tell me everything about your journey here. how have you been?” she asked, pouring tea into delicate cups. you spent the next hour catching up, sharing stories and laughing over fond memories. eventually, the conversation shifted to her recent breakup. her expression turned a bit somber, but there was a determined look in her eyes.

“it’s been tough,” she admitted, stirring her tea absently. “but the heartbreak pushed me to focus on something bigger. i've started my own company, calling it hanbok group.” you raised your eyebrows in surprise, impressed by her ambition. “wow, that’s amazing, eunha. tell me more about it.”

her eyes lit up as she began to explain. “hanbok group is all about preserving and modernizing traditional korean clothing. i've been investing a lot of money into it, and it’s starting to gain traction. we’re not just selling hanboks; we’re creating a cultural movement, blending the old with the new.” you listened intently, absorbing her passion and determination. yet, a part of you felt a twinge of skepticism. “it sounds incredible. but are you sure this is the right move? starting a company is a huge risk, especially after what you’ve been through.”

she nodded, understanding your concern. “i know it’s risky, but i believe in this. i believe in preserving our culture and sharing it with the world. i just need a bit of support, and i'm confident it will work out.” seeing the fire in her eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration. despite your reservations, you wanted to support her in any way you could.

“alright,” you said with a small smile. “let’s discuss it more in the morning. i want to hear all about your plans and see how i can help.” her face lit up with gratitude. “thank you, (y/n). that means a lot to me.”

the night passed with more conversation and laughter, the bond between you and your sister feeling stronger than ever. as you prepared for bed in the cozy guest room, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for the days ahead. you couldn't help but notice the photo framed on the desk, just a few feet across the bed. it was a photo of eunha and her ex-boyfriend, the two of them on a beach. the sight of it practically made you shiver, an unsettling feeling engulfing you as you allowed yourself to fall asleep, just barely.

the next morning, you woke up to the comforting aroma of freshly washed sheets lingering in the air. however, as you groggily made your way to the kitchen, you noticed that eunha was nowhere to be found. you had assumed she had gone out to run some errands. feeling a bit more awake, you decided to venture out and find a cafe for your morning coffee. you grabbed your wallet and phone, then left the apartment, ready to explore the neighborhood.

after a short walk, you spotted a quaint cafe not too far from eunha’s apartment. the charming exterior and cozy ambiance drew you in. as you entered, you were immediately greeted by the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of chatter. you made your way to the counter, scanning the menu. "these prices are insane," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head slightly. you paid no mind to your surroundings, entirely focused on the options before you.

just as you decided on your order and turned to move towards the counter, you bumped into someone. you stumbled back, eyes widening in horror as you saw the man in front of you with his coffee spilled all over his shirt. "oh shit, i'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, panicking and beginning to apologize frantically. "i wasn’t paying attention, i’m so sorry!"

the man laughed, a warm and genuine sound that immediately put you at ease. "it's okay, really. it was an ugly shirt anyway," he said with a playful smile. "i’m namjoon, by the way." you blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his easy-going demeanor. "i’m (y/n)," you introduced yourself, still feeling a bit flustered.

namjoon smiled again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "well, (y/n), you can make it up to me by having coffee with me. what do you say?" you nodded, grateful for his kindness. "of course, i’d love to."

after paying for the coffees, you both found a table by the window and settled in. the initial small talk was easy and flowed naturally. you discovered that namjoon was also from seoul, which led him to ask what you were doing in busan.

"i’m visiting my sister," you explained, taking a sip of your coffee. "she’s been working on a new business venture here." namjoon nodded, interest piqued. "that sounds exciting. what kind of business?"

"she’s started a company," you replied. "it’s focused on preserving and modernizing traditional korean clothing." before namjoon could respond, the sound of heels clicking against the floor and a sharp cough interrupted your conversation. both of you turned to see a woman with long, black hair and bangs standing nearby, an impatient expression on her face.

"namjoon, what are you doing?" she asked, her tone clipped. he sighed, his earlier ease replaced with mild irritation. "just having coffee, soyeon. this is (y/n)," he gestured to you, "we had a little accident with the coffee."

she shot you a glare before turning her attention back to him. "i’m his fiancée," she declared, her tone possessive. you noticed namjoon rolling his eyes slightly at her introduction. she quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him away. he managed to offer you a small, apologetic smile. "i’ll see you around, (y/n)," he said, his voice filled with a hint of regret.

you watched as they left, doubting that you’d run into him again. it was only when you looked down at your table that you noticed a small piece of paper under his coffee cup. picking it up, you saw his phone number written in big black letters. a smile tugged at your lips as you slipped the paper into your pocket. the rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and errands with eunha. you found yourself distracted, your thoughts drifting back to the morning’s encounter with namjoon. there was something about him that intrigued you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that your paths would cross again.

the next few weeks flew by as you dedicated yourself to working on eunha's project. days blended into each other with meetings, brainstorming sessions, and countless cups of coffee as you helped her refine the vision for hanbok group. the experience was both exhausting and exhilarating, and you felt a deep sense of pride in her progress and determination. the days were filled with laughter, hard work, and the occasional late-night chat about everything from business strategies to personal dreams.

as the final days of your visit approached, you and her made the most of your remaining time together. you explored more of busan, visited local markets, and enjoyed some of the city’s best restaurants. it felt surreal that your trip was coming to an end.

on the day of your departure, eunha accompanied you to the train station. you were both a bit teary-eyed as you hugged goodbye, knowing how much this time together had meant to both of you. she squeezed you tightly and said, “please give mom a kiss for me, okay?” you nodded, trying to hold back the tears. “i will. take care of yourself, eunha.”

with a final wave, you boarded the train. as the doors closed behind you, you felt a pang of nostalgia for the time spent in busan. unbeknownst to you, a familiar gaze lingered on your figure as the train pulled away from the station. the journey back to seoul felt long and reflective. you found solace in the rhythmic clacking of the train wheels, your mind replaying memories from your visit and pondering the future.

upon arriving back in seoul, you made your way to your small house, eager to reconnect with your mother. however, when you opened the door, the house was eerily empty. confused and a little anxious, you went next door to speak with your landlord, hoping to find some answers. “hello, mr. min,” you greeted him. “i'm looking for my mother. she’s not at home.” the landlord looked at you with a mix of sympathy and hesitation. “oh, i'm afraid your mother moved out while you were away.”

your heart sank. “moved out? where did she go?” hee shifted uncomfortably. “she’s living in the kim manor now, in one of their spare rooms. she’s still working as a maid there.”

the news hit you like a ton of bricks. you could hardly believe it. “the kim manor? why?” he shrugged, “i’m not entirely sure. the chairman offered it to her, i think. it’s quite a change.”

you thanked him quickly, your mind racing as you headed towards the manor. the grand estate loomed ahead, its imposing gates and manicured gardens a stark contrast to your modest home. the thought of your mother living there, amidst such opulence, was overwhelming. when you arrived, you were greeted by a skinny, older woman sipping wine on the porch. her sharp gaze assessed you as you approached.

“hello,” you said hesitantly. “i'm (y/n). i’m here to see my mother.” the woman raised an eyebrow. “you’re the daughter of the maid, correct?”

“yes,” you replied, feeling a bit uneasy under her scrutiny. “the mute one.” the woman’s expression softened slightly, and she gestured for you to follow her inside. “come on in. i’ll take you to her.”

the interior of the manor was just as grand as the exterior, with ornate decorations and polished surfaces everywhere. the woman led you through the house until you reached a modest kitchen, where you found your mother washing dishes at the sink. “mom,” you called out, your voice trembling with emotion.

your mother turned, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of sadness. she quickly dried her hands and approached you, her expression a mix of relief and worry. you noticed the deep lines of stress on her face and the weariness in her eyes. you sat down in a small, sparsely furnished room off the kitchen, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken questions. once you were settled, you asked your mother what had prompted such a sudden change.

she began to sign slowly, her hands moving with deliberate care, “the chairman offered me this position. it was an opportunity we couldn’t refuse, given our situation.” the realization hit you like a tidal wave. the financial strain you had both been under was more severe than you’d imagined. tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to process the gravity of the situation. you felt a deep, aching sadness for both your mother and yourself.

you held her close, the weight of your financial troubles and the complexity of your current situation feeling almost unbearable. the shock of the sudden change, coupled with the overwhelming sense of inadequacy, left you feeling emotionally drained. that night, as you lay in the small, cold room you’d been given, you cried yourself to sleep. the reality of your financial struggles and the sudden upheaval in your life weighed heavily on you. the sense of helplessness was overwhelming, and you realized just how precarious your situation had become.

as night settled over the kim manor, the quiet grandeur of the house was punctuated. the front door creaked open, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the grand hall. namjoon, carrying a small duffel bag, was visibly exhausted from his travels. the clatter of a dropped glass and a gasp of disbelief came from the dining room as his mother laid eyes on him. her eyes widened, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. she rushed forward, her emotions overtaking her as she embraced her son with a fervent hug.

“namjoon, you’re back!” she exclaimed, her voice choked with emotion. “i didn’t expect you so soon!” his arms enveloped her, and he let out a sigh of relief. “mom, i missed you so much. it’s good to be home.”

they moved to the dining table, where namjoon recounted his experiences in busan. his mother listened intently, her heart swelling with pride and sympathy as he described the challenges he had faced. he spoke of his work, the stress of being away, and the yearning to reconnect with his family, despite his complicated feelings about his brother. “i’ve thought about Haejoon,” namjoon admitted. “even though he’s the last person i wanted to see, i hoped he might come around eventually.”

his mother placed a comforting hand on his arm. “haejoon will soften up eventually. he always does, even if he doesn’t show it right away.” he seemed to find solace in her words, and the conversation shifted to other matters. his mother mentioned the recent changes in the household.

“oh, by the way,” she said, trying to recall the details, “the housekeeper and her daughter have moved into one of the spare rooms.” namjoon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “what’s the daughter’s name?”

his mother’s expression turned thoughtful as she searched her memory. “i'm afraid i've forgotten. it’s been a bit chaotic lately.” namjoon shrugged off the lapse, accepting it as part of the current upheaval. “that’s okay. i’m sure i’ll meet her soon enough.”

she couldn't help the frown from forming on her face at his words, her face suddenly serious as she warned him, “don't you talk to the staff, you know better than that.” he didn't take it to heart, he was just glad to be home. with the conversation winding down, he excused himself. the long day had left him exhausted, and he needed rest. he made his way up the grand staircase and through the opulent hallways to his room, ready to unwind and recharge. the house, now quiet again, settled into its usual rhythm. the only sounds were the soft rustling of the evening breeze and the occasional creak of the manor settling into the night.

as night deepened, namjoon tossed and turned in his bed, the remnants of his dreams lingering in his mind. sleep eluded him as his thoughts fixated on a fleeting image from his dream—your face. in his dream, you had been close, yet somehow distant, your presence tantalizingly out of reach. the vividness of the dream left him restless and unsettled. he tried to shake off the feeling, but the image of you persisted, haunting his thoughts as he lay awake in the quiet of his room.

morning arrived with a pale light filtering through the curtains. namjoon, still troubled by the unsettling dream, emerged from his room to find his mother in the dining room, awaiting breakfast. he joined her at the table, a hint of frustration in his demeanor.

“mom, i had the strangest dream last night,” namjoon began, trying to make sense of the lingering unease. his mother looked up from her newspaper, her attention piqued. “oh? what was it about?”

he hesitated before describing the dream, leaving out specific details about you. “i dreamed about someone i can’t quite place. she seemed familiar and yet distant. it was like she was right there, but i couldn’t reach her.”

his mother’s expression softened with concern. “dreams can be strange and unsettling. perhaps it’s just your mind working through your emotions.” namjoon sighed. “maybe. but it felt so real. it’s affecting my thoughts.”

his mother nodded understandingly. “you should try to focus on your engagement with soyeon. it’s important.” his brow furrowed. “but i don’t really like soyeon. i never have.”

his mother sighed, her gaze steady. “i know, namjoon. but it’s what the your father wants. soyeon’s family has the connections we need for the business deal. it’s a necessary step.”

namjoon nodded, though his frustration remained evident. “i understand the need for the business deal, but it’s hard to reconcile with my own feelings.” his mother, trying to shift the conversation, asked, “are you still in touch with jackson? i remember you mentioning him before you went to busan.”

his face darkened slightly. “not anymore. we lost touch. it’s been a while.” his mother raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in her voice. “i see. well, it might be worth reconnecting if it helps with the business. but for now, focus on what’s ahead.” namjoon agreed and decided to head out for the day. his mother watched him leave with a mixture of concern and resignation.

meanwhile, in the backyard of the manor, you were laboring under the early morning sun. exhausted from the sleepless night, you diligently collected the dry clothes from the line. the repetitive task was almost meditative, but the lack of sleep made every movement feel heavier. once you finished folding the clothes, you carried them into the house, placing them in their designated spots. as you worked, namjoon’s mother observed you with a critical yet appreciative eye.

“you move with such grace,” she remarked, watching as you completed your task. you offered a tired smile, acknowledging the compliment before heading out. with the day stretching ahead and your exhaustion palpable, you decided to visit the nearby convenience store. you bought a cold drink, hoping it would offer some respite.

you settled at a small table outside the shop, the beverage in hand providing minimal comfort. as the effects of fatigue began to catch up with you, your head nodded, and you eventually drifted into a light sleep. unbeknownst to you, a man had noticed your unusual presence. Intrigued by the sight of you sleeping at the table, he took a seat across from you. with a playful curiosity, he poked at your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your slumber. when you didn’t immediately respond, he chuckled to himself, finding amusement in the situation.

eventually, you stirred awake to find him eating a snack, clearly entertained by your groggy state. you blinked at him, trying to clear the haze from your eyes. “who are you?” you asked, still disoriented from your nap. the man grinned. “i’m jackson wang. nice to meet you. and you are?”

you rubbed your eyes lazily, trying to wake yourself fully. the effort felt almost too much, and you glanced at him with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. without offering your own introduction, you stood up, feeling the overwhelming need to escape the awkward encounter. jackson called after you, “hey, wait! come back!” but you, still groggy and eager to retreat, ignored his calls and walked off, heading back towards the manor. he watched you go, a bemused smile on his face, as you disappeared from view, leaving him with an amused sense of intrigue.

you moved through the tasks around the manor with a mechanical efficiency, driven more by the need to keep busy than by any real sense of accomplishment. each chore—arranging the rooms, tidying up the kitchen, and sorting through the various household items—was done with a mixture of resignation and determination. the house, despite its opulence, felt increasingly like a gilded cage, with each task a reminder of the overwhelming changes in your life.

when you finally finished, you retreated to the small room you had been assigned. it was a modest space compared to the grandeur of the rest of the manor, but it was your sanctuary. as you sorted through the clothes you had folded earlier, your hand brushed against a slip of paper. you pulled it out and saw that it was the note with namjoon's phone number—an unexpected reminder of the brief encounter you had in busan.

you hesitated for a moment, considering the implications of using the number. curiosity and a need for human connection nudged you forward. slipping the paper into your pocket, you decided to test it out. you made your way outside, feeling the cool air of the morning against your skin. standing in front of the manor’s gate, you took out your phone and dialed the number. the number was a direct line to namjoon’s phone, and you felt a flutter of anticipation as it rang.

“hello?” his voice came through, sounding slightly puzzled but courteous. “hi, namjoon, it’s (y/n),” you greeted, trying to keep your tone casual.

there was a brief pause on the other end. “oh, hey. i didn’t expect to hear from you.” you made small talk, trying to bridge the gap between your brief but memorable encounter in busan and the present moment. as you spoke, you remained unaware that namjoon was standing behind you, having come out of the manor for a breath of fresh air.

he listened to your voice, recognizing it immediately. he felt a strange mix of curiosity and comfort. “are you still in busan?” he asked, his tone betraying a hint of unease. you looked around, still speaking into the phone. “no, i'm back in seoul, what about you?” his heart raced a little. he was only a few steps away from where you stood, and he was unable to resist the pull of curiosity. he walked quietly, positioning himself so that he could see you as you spoke.

“turn around,” he said softly, though his voice was tinged with an edge of nervousness. you turned, your eyes scanning the area until they landed on him. for a moment, both of you stared at each other in shock. there was a genuine, unfiltered emotion in his eyes—a fleeting look of recognition and something more profound. the connection from your dream seemed to come alive in that brief exchange. however, the words of his mother flashed through his mind, reminding him of the boundaries he was supposed to maintain. he had been advised not to engage with the staff in any personal manner. as these thoughts surfaced, his expression shifted from surprise to a colder, more controlled demeanor.

he approached you, his steps deliberate and his gaze icy. he met your eyes with a look that was both firm and unyielding. the warmth from the earlier moment vanished, replaced by a sharp detachment.

“you're the maid's daughter, aren't you?” he asked, his voice devoid of the previous warmth. you flinched slightly at the shift in his tone, still trying to make sense of the situation, as realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “you're the second son, aren't you?”

without another word, he turned and walked past you, his steps echoing in the stillness of the manor grounds. you watched him go, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. the brief moment of connection had dissipated into a cold reality, leaving you standing alone, grappling with the complexity of your emotions and the new world you were now a part of. as he disappeared into the distance, you were left with the unsettling feeling of being caught between two worlds—one that was rapidly changing and another that seemed to be slipping further away.

namjoon struggled with the reality of the situation that had unfolded before him. the girl he had felt a sudden, inexplicable connection with in busan was now revealed to be the daughter of his family’s maid. the revelation felt like a cruel twist of fate. the initial flutter of butterflies he had experienced was now replaced by a sense of profound disappointment and confusion. he grappled with the stark contrast between his earlier feelings and the current state of their interactions.

the coldness he exhibited towards you became more pronounced with each passing day. he avoided eye contact, spoke to you with a clipped tone, and generally treated you with the indifference reserved for those considered beneath his notice. the warmth and curiosity he had shown in busan were replaced by a rigid formality that left you feeling isolated and disheartened.

you, too, were deeply affected by the discovery. the boy who had occupied your thoughts with such intensity turned out to be namjoon, the second son of the kim group, and you, as his maid’s daughter, were now living under his family’s roof. the disparity between your lives was stark, and the reality of it was crushing. the dreams and hopes you had harbored seemed to crumble under the weight of the new circumstances.

as time went on, the emotional strain became unbearable. the disparity in how you were treated and the growing tension between you and him led to sleepless nights. the emotional weight of your situation bore down heavily on you, making every task and interaction feel like a reminder of your diminished place in the world. one particularly sleepless night, the tears became too much to bear. you reached for your phone, your hands trembling as you dialed eunha’s number. the phone rang several times before she answered, her voice filled with concern.

“what’s wrong?” her voice was soft but urgent. through your tears, you managed to speak, your voice choked and fragmented. “i can't keep doing this anymore.”

her soothing presence on the other end of the line gave you a brief respite from your distress. “i know it’s tough. i know it's hard, but it won't last.” you sobbed harder, the weight of your situation overwhelming. “everything is falling apart.”

she took a deep breath, her voice steady and firm. “listen to me. this is not the end. you came here to make something of yourself, to help me with hanbok group. you need to channel this pain into something positive. the company needs to succeed. it’s the chance we have to build a future, to prove ourselves.” her words, though harsh, held a certain clarity. the determination she spoke of seemed to cut through the fog of despair that enveloped you. “i'll try,” you whispered, your voice trembling but infused with a newfound resolve. “i'll make it work.”

if you're born poor, that's not your fault. if you die poor, it's nobody's fault but yours. as the weeks turned into months, hanbok group began to show promising signs of growth. the initial investments that eunha had poured into the company started to bear fruit, and the early struggles began to pay off. eunha, with your diligent support, navigated the complexities of the fashion and art worlds with a deft hand, securing deals and partnerships that elevated the group’s profile.

the company’s first significant breakthrough came with a fashion line launch. the designs, a harmonious blend of traditional and contemporary styles, garnered attention from influential fashion critics and buyers. the success of the line not only boosted the company's reputation but also injected much-needed capital. the positive reception provided a solid foundation for future ventures.

following the fashion line, hanbok group expanded into art galleries, showcasing a curated collection of emerging and established artists. the galleries quickly became popular, drawing crowds and generating steady revenue. the dual success of the fashion line and art galleries established hanbok group as a prominent player in the industry, with financial stability and a growing network of connections.

with the company thriving, you and eunha were finally able to realize a long-held dream: surprising your mother with a stable and secure future. the time had come to leave the kim manor, a place that had been both a refuge and a reminder of the stark divide between your past and present. on the day of your departure, you packed up your belongings with a sense of bittersweet relief. the process was emotional but filled with anticipation for the new chapter ahead. you knew your mother would be thrilled to see the changes and the new opportunities that awaited her.

as you prepared to leave, you glanced around the manor one last time, acknowledging both the struggles and the triumphs that had marked your time there. the decision to move on was not just about leaving a place but about stepping into a future you had worked hard to build. when the day finally arrived for you to move out, namjoon returned home, exhausted from a long day. he made his way through the manor, only to find that your room was conspicuously empty. the absence of your belongings was jarring, and a sense of confusion washed over him. he had not seen you or heard anything about your departure.

seeking answers, he approached his mother, who was seated in the living room. “mom, where are (y/n) and her mom? their room is completely empty.” his mother’s eyes flickered with a cold, distant look. she pointed to the television, her voice carrying an edge of disinterest. “turn on the news. you might find the answer there.”

namjoon, perplexed and slightly apprehensive, followed her instruction. he switched on the television, and the news channel immediately brought up a breaking story about hanbok group. the screen displayed images of a successful fashion line launch and a new art gallery opening, accompanied by interviews and glowing reports.

as the news anchor spoke, namjoon’s attention was drawn to the faces that appeared alongside the story. one of them was unmistakably yours, your image featured prominently as a key figure behind hanbok group’s recent success. the realization struck him with force, a mix of shock and dismay. his mind raced to piece together the connections—the girl he had coldly dismissed, the daughter of his family’s maid, had risen to prominence and achieved success beyond his expectations. the contrast between the image on the screen and the reality of how he had treated you was stark and uncomfortable.

his gaze shifted to his mother, who remained impassive, her expression a mix of detachment and grim satisfaction. the weight of the situation settled heavily on him as he grappled with the full extent of his oversight. the news had not only exposed the success of hanbok group but also highlighted the disparity between his previous actions and the new reality.

your new life was a testament to the hard work and determination you had poured into hanbok group. the transformation was nothing short of a dream realized. your mother had moved into a spacious, luxurious apartment in the heart of seoul, a far cry from the cramped quarters of the manor. the apartment was elegantly furnished, with sweeping views of the cityscape that spoke of both affluence and newfound security. it was a living space that matched the success you had achieved, offering your mother a comfortable and refined environment.

hanbok group’s headquarters had also moved to seoul, marking a significant milestone in the company's expansion. the sleek new office building was a symbol of progress, reflecting the growth and success of the business. the modern design of the building, with its glass facades and cutting-edge facilities, stood as a beacon of your achievements and aspirations.

as you walked down the polished corridors of the new office, you took in the bustling activity around you. the staff moved with purpose, the energy of the space reflecting the thriving state of the company. you were deep in thought, reviewing the day’s tasks, when you spotted a familiar face.

jackson wang, the man from the convenience store, was standing near the reception area, his presence causing a ripple of recognition in your mind. you approached him with a mix of curiosity and formality. “jackson, what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to mask your surprise. his smile was easygoing, and he seemed genuinely pleased to see you. “i’m here on behalf of my father,” he began. “he wanted to propose a deal between hanbok group and wang industries at tonight’s opening ceremony. he thinks it would be mutually beneficial.”

you nodded, processing his words. “i see. well, we’ll definitely discuss it further. i appreciate you coming by to inform me.” his eyes twinkled with curiosity. “so, you do remember me from the convenience store?”

you offered a small smile, nodding in recognition. “yeah, i remember. good to see you again.” his expression shifted to one of genuine admiration. “congratulations on the success of hanbok group. it's impressive how far you’ve come.”

“thank you,” you replied, feeling a warm sense of validation. “it’s been quite a journey.” as you prepared to leave, jackson watched you with an air of quiet confidence. “i’ll see you tonight at the ceremony, then,” he said. “i’m looking forward to it.”

the opening ceremony for the company's new headquarters was a significant milestone, a moment of celebration that promised new beginnings. the event was meticulously organized, with a grand hall decorated in elegant hues that mirrored the company’s successful journey. the atmosphere was abuzz with anticipation as influential guests, industry leaders, and key stakeholders gathered to witness the occasion.

you and eunha met with jackson, his father, and their team in one of the private conference rooms prior to the main event. his father, a distinguished figure with a commanding presence, extended a firm handshake and greeted you with a businesslike warmth. “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” he said, his tone reflecting a blend of professionalism and cordiality. the discussion centered around the proposed partnership between hanbok group and wang industries. the terms were negotiated with careful consideration, and both parties were eager to explore the mutual benefits. after a thorough exchange of ideas and a few rounds of negotiation, an agreement was reached. the partnership was set to bring new opportunities and enhance the growth prospects for both companies.

with the formalities concluded, you felt a sense of accomplishment as you prepared for your first public appearance. the night was about to transition from business to celebration, and you were eager to make a positive impression. as you made your way to the backstage area to get ready, you spotted jackson once again. he approached you with a friendly smile. “i just wanted to thank you for the opportunity,” he said. “it’s been great working with you and seeing how far your company has come.”

“you’re welcome,” you replied, appreciating the gesture. “and thank you for your support. i'm looking forward to the new possibilities this partnership will bring.”

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “it’s been a pleasure. i think tonight is going to be quite memorable.” as the time for the showcase drew nearer, you and jackson took your positions. the grand hall was now a sea of faces, the crowd eagerly awaiting the main event. you took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you prepared to step out onto the stage.

just as you were about to make your entrance, you noticed a familiar face in the crowd. your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with namjoon. he stood at the edge of the gathering, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that was both unsettling and familiar. the sight of him stirred a whirlwind of emotions—regret, longing, and an unspoken connection. his expression was unreadable, a mask of composure that did little to reveal his thoughts. for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the stark reality of his presence.

in the opulent study of the kim manor, the atmosphere was thick with tension. the chairman, haejoon, and haejoon’s stepmother, who had become a fixture in the household, gathered around a large mahogany desk. the study was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the room and adding to the gravity of the discussion. the chairman, visibly agitated, slammed a thick folder onto the desk. “this is bad,” he declared, his voice low and menacing. “absolutely bad for our company’s sales. hanbok group’s success at the opening ceremony has thrown a wrench into our plans.”

haejoon, who was pacing with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, clenched his jaw. “father, you know i've tried to handle this situation,” he said, his voice strained. “but the backlash is enormous, and it’s affecting our public image.”

his father’s glare could have cut through steel. “you were supposed to maintain control over this. do you have any idea what this means for us? we’re losing ground to a company that was just a blip on our radar.” namjoon's mother, standing with her arms crossed, looked on with a cold expression. “this isn’t just about the company’s image. this is personal. eunha is your ex-girlfriend and (y/n) is the daughter of the woman who cleaned our toilets. their success is a direct insult to our family.”

before the conversation could delve deeper into the personal aspects, the door to the study opened, and namjoon walked in, his expression neutral but his demeanor tinged with unease. “the ceremony is finished,” he announced. “the opening was a success.” the room fell into a heavy silence as haejoon turned to face his stepbrother. the tension between them was palpable, with his dislike for namjoon evident in the way he glared at him. despite namjoon’s attempts to bridge the gap, haejoon seemed resolute in his disdain.

“we need a plan,” the chairman said, his tone was far from appreciative. “we need to find a way to counteract this situation. we can’t let hanbok group’s success overshadow our own achievements.” namjoon met his father’s gaze, accepting the gravity of the task. “understood. i’ll handle it.”

the chairman’s eyes narrowed. “you need to do more than just handle it. we need a strategy to undermine their momentum and regain control of the narrative. this isn’t just about competition; it’s about asserting our dominance.” namjoon nodded, a flicker of determination crossing his face. “i’ll get to work on it immediately.”

as he turned to leave, haejoon’s stepmother shot him a pointed look. the disdain in her gaze was evident, and it was clear that the family’s discontent with him was growing. namjoon, however, kept his focus on the task ahead, ignoring the glares and the underlying hostility in the room. as he walked out of the study, the weight of the responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders.

the transition to your new private school in seoul was a monumental shift, a step that symbolized the culmination of your hard work and the new opportunities afforded by hanbok group’s success. as you walked through the gates of the prestigious institution, you felt the weight of countless gazes. the students—dressed in their immaculate uniforms—watched you with a mixture of awe and envy. the whispers and stares made you feel like an object of fascination, a feeling both exhilarating and uncomfortable.

despite the attention, you held your head high, trying to maintain composure as you navigated the hallways. the sense of being scrutinized was palpable, but you were determined to focus on your new chapter.

suddenly, you felt a reassuring weight around your shoulders. you turned to see jackson, his familiar grin breaking through the sea of curious faces. “hey, i didn’t expect to see you here!” he said, his tone light and friendly. “i’m a student here too. thought i'd show you around.” relief washed over you as you smiled back. “thanks, jackson. that’d be great.”

as you walked together through the bustling corridors, you began to feel more at ease. however, your newfound comfort was abruptly interrupted when you came to a sudden halt. the reason for your pause became clear as you glanced ahead. namjoon stood at the end of the hallway, his gaze fixed on you. his eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed jackson by your side.

jackson’s voice broke the tense silence. “dramatic, aren’t you, namjoon? then again, you’ve always enjoyed a good crowd,” he remarked, his tone laced with an undercurrent of playful sarcasm. the students around you began forming a circle, intrigued by the unexpected confrontation. his expression darkened as he glanced at jackson. “what exactly do you think you’re doing here?” he asked, his voice edged with a hint of challenge.

jackson shrugged nonchalantly. “i could ask you the same thing. how was busan, friend?” the word “friend” hung in the air, heavy with unspoken history. the silence that followed was thick with unspoken tensions. the once close bond between namjoon and jackson had frayed over the years, especially after namjoon’s departure for busan, which had strained their relationship.

you shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate the suddenly charged atmosphere. as you considered walking away to escape the awkwardness, namjoon’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. his touch was firm but not aggressive, as he pulled you closer to his side. “wait,” he said, his voice low and resolute. “i need to talk to you.”

jackson’s eyes flickered with surprise, but he stepped back slightly, allowing namjoon to assert his presence. the surrounding students watched with bated breath, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama. namjoon’s grip on your wrist was firm, but his touch was not harsh. he guided you away from the crowd, leading you to a quieter corner of the school. his expression was a mix of confusion and something deeper—perhaps a flicker of old emotions.

“why are you here?” namjoon finally asked, his tone softening. “how did you end up at this school?” you met his gaze, trying to remain calm despite the rush of emotions. “that's none of your business, really.”

his eyebrows furrowed, a mix of surprise and hurt flickering across his face. “look, we’re both here now. can’t we just talk?” you shook your head, feeling a pang of frustration. “there’s nothing to talk about, namjoon. i’m here to focus on my studies and start fresh. whatever happened between us before, it’s in the past.” there was no getting over the way he had acted. no amount of money in the world could've made up for the nights you had spent crying, wondering why it was your life that was falling apart.

with that, you found yourself spinning on your heel. you had no interest in going back to where you started, and that included rekindling a bond with him. he was the one that looked down on you and, even if he wasn't, he was the one who wad engaged.

namjoon sat at a corner table in the bustling school cafeteria, his lunch barely touched as he absentmindedly stirred his drink. across from him, soyeon’s anger simmered beneath her composed exterior. the vibrant chatter of students around them seemed distant as she leaned in, her voice low and filled with frustration.

“i can’t believe this,” she said, her eyes flashing with irritation. “your company’s downfall is gonna ruin us. hanbok group is soaring, especially after the partnership with wang industries. it’s a huge blow to your sales, and since i'm engaged to you, my sales.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples. “i know, soyeon. it’s not like i wanted this to happen. i’m dealing with it as best as i can.” her frustration mounted. “dealing with it? it’s a disaster, and now you’re stuck here, trying to make sense of it all while they're out there taking the spotlight.”

his annoyance was evident. “we’re working on it, but what do you expect me to do? it’s not like we can just erase their success.” her eyes narrowed, her irritation shifting to a calculating gaze. “actually, there might be something we can do. it’s risky, but it could work.”

he looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. “what do you have in mind?” she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you know that girl from hanbok group, the one you saw at the ceremony? if you get close to her—”

namjoon cut her off with a skeptical glance. “are you suggesting i seduce her?” her lips curled into a sly smile. “exactly. if you can get close to her, you might find a way to undermine hanbok group from within. Ii’s a chance to gather information, and maybe even influence things in our favor.”

he studied soyeon’s face, weighing the proposal. the idea was certainly bold, but it did offer a potential path to addressing the threat hanbok group posed to his family’s company. the thought of involving personal feelings in the strategy was unsettling, but the prospect of weakening the company was tempting.

“you really think this will work?” he asked, still unsure. she nodded, her expression serious. “it’s a long shot, but it might be our best bet. if you can get her to trust you, you might be able to find a way to sabotage their plans or at least gather some useful intel.” namjoon considered the proposal, his thoughts swirling with conflicting emotions. the idea of manipulating someone for business gain was morally dubious, but the stakes were high. if this was the only viable strategy to save his family’s company, he was willing to consider it.

“alright,” namjoon finally said, his voice determined. “i’ll do it. but remember, this is a means to an end. i don’t want this to get out of hand.” she smile widened, a glint of triumph in her eyes. “good. i knew you’d see the potential. just be careful—if things get messy, it could backfire.”

the grand opening of hanbok nightclub was a dazzling affair. the sleek, modern design of the venue glittered with bright lights and vibrant colors, creating an atmosphere of excitement and luxury. the turnout was impressive, with a lively crowd enjoying the music, drinks, and the bustling energy of the night. you stood at the edge of the main floor, taking in the scene with a mix of pride and relief. the risky investment in the nightclub had clearly paid off.

as you watched the guests mingle and dance, you turned to see a familiar face among the crowd. it was namjoon, looking sharply dressed in a suit that accentuated his tall frame. his presence was unexpected, and you felt a flicker of curiosity and unease. you approached him, your voice barely rising above the noise of the crowd. “what are you doing here?” he offered a small, sincere smile. “i came to support you. i heard about the opening and thought i’d check it out.”

you were taken aback by his response, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “i didn’t expect to see you here.” namjoon’s gaze softened. “i wanted to make amends. i know things between us have been complicated.”

you nodded, appreciating his gesture. “well, i’m glad you came. it means a lot.” he glanced around the nightclub, then back at you. “would you like to grab a drink? i'd like to talk, if that’s alright with you.” you hesitated for a moment, still feeling the sting of past interactions but decided that it was worth at least hearing him out. “alright, let’s get a drink.”

you led the way to the bar, where you both ordered drinks and found a quieter corner away from the main festivities. the setting was intimate, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the space. as you sipped your drink, namjoon looked at you with a mixture of apprehension and sincerity. “i owe you an apology for how I acted before. the way i treated you was unfair. it wasn’t just me—it was pressure from my stepmother and the situation at home.” you studied his face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “i appreciate you saying that. it was confusing and hurtful, but i understand that you were caught in a difficult situation.”

he nodded, visibly relieved by your response. “it’s been a tough time for me, too. my family’s expectations and the pressure to keep up with everything—it’s been overwhelming.” you took a sip of your drink, considering his words. “i can’t imagine what you’ve been going through, but i hope things get better for you. and i hope we can move past this.”

his expression softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “i'd like that. i know i can’t undo the past, but i want to try to make things right, even if it’s just starting with this.” you nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the honest conversation. “we can start fresh. i’m willing to forgive and move on.”

hia eyes met yours with genuine gratitude. “thank you. it means a lot to me.” the conversation flowed more easily as the night progressed, with both of you sharing updates about your lives and catching up on missed time. the atmosphere around you was lively and festive, but in your little corner of the nightclub, it was as if a new chapter was beginning.

the weeks following the opening of the nightclub brought an unexpected shift in your relationship with namjoon. you found yourselves spending more time together, both within and outside of the office. the initial tension between you had faded, replaced by a genuine connection. conversations became easier, and you began to learn more about each other’s lives and interests.

he often seemed conflicted, his guilt evident as he navigated his dual role in your life. the feelings he was developing for you were undeniable, and it was becoming harder for him to maintain the facade of mere friendship. he had started to question the ethics of his actions, feeling remorseful for his initial intentions.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up some paperwork in the office, eunha stopped by. she looked concerned as she approached your desk. “can we talk for a moment?” she asked, her tone serious. you nodded, setting aside your work. “of course. what’s up?”

she waited until you both settled into a quieter area of the office before speaking. “i've been noticing that you and kim namjoon have been spending a lot of time together lately. i’m curious—what’s your relationship with him?” you hesitated for a moment before answering. “we’re just friends. we’ve been getting to know each other better.”

her expression remained thoughtful. “i see. well, i want to encourage you to keep it that way—just friends.” you raised an eyebrow, surprised by her insistence. “why? is there something i should know?”

she sighed, looking more serious than you’d ever seen her. “yes, actually. there’s something important you need to understand. namjoon’s family, including his stepbrother, are our direct competitors. hanbok group and their company are rivals, and haejoon happens to be my ex-boyfriend.” you were taken aback, your eyes widening in disbelief. “haejoon is your ex? i didn’t know that.” you had recalled the photo of them in her guest room, the pieces gluing themselves together.

she nodded. “yes. it’s complicated, but it’s crucial for you to know that the kims and hanbok group are deeply intertwined in this business rivalry. i don’t want you to get caught up in any personal entanglements that could complicate things for both our company and your own future.” the revelation hit you hard. you had been developing genuine feelings for him, and eunha’s warning forced you to confront the reality of the situation. the idea of distancing yourself from him now felt painful, especially given the bond you had started to form.

“i understand,” you said, trying to steady your emotions. “i’ll keep my distance. i don’t want to create any conflicts for us.” she looked relieved but also sympathetic. “thank you. i know it’s not easy, but it’s important for the sake of the company. and if there’s anything more you need to know, or if you’re struggling, you can always talk to me.”

you appreciated her offer, though the weight of the situation was heavy on your heart. as she left, you sat alone, reflecting on the growing feelings you had for namjoon and the difficult decision you now faced. the connection you had with him felt real, but the business implications and personal history made it all the more complex.

namjoon sat at his study desk in the grand manor, the room illuminated by the soft glow of the desk lamp. the space was decorated with rich wood paneling and shelves lined with books, providing an aura of both warmth and authority. he was lost in thought, his mind preoccupied with the tangled emotions and complicated dynamics of his recent interactions with you.

the creak of the door broke his concentration. haejoon entered the room, a stern expression on his face. he walked straight to his desk and dropped a stack of photographs in front of him with a thud. the images were candid shots of you and namjoon from various moments—some at the nightclub, others from the recent school encounter. he looked up, his expression guarded. “what’s this about?” haejoon’s tone was cold and direct. “explain these.”

namjoon’s gaze shifted to the photos, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “soyeon came up with a plan to get close to you and undermine hanbok group from the inside. she thought that if i could get close to you and learn about your company’s operations, it would give us an edge. all i'm doing is going along with it.”

haejoon’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, but he remained silent, absorbing the information. he appeared to be considering the implications of namjoon’s revelation. after a moment, he nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. “alright,” he said finally. “i’ll leave it at that.”

as he turned to leave, namjoon’s voice stopped him. “why do you hate me so much, haejoon?” he paused, his back still turned. for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. he didn’t respond, and the tension between the two brothers was palpable. with that, he walked out of the study, leaving his stepbrother alone with a heavy heart.

the day at school had been unusually tense. as you navigated through your classes and interactions with classmates, the weight of recent developments lingered heavily on your mind. you had been trying to keep your emotions in check, focusing on your responsibilities, but the lingering thoughts of namjoon and the complexities of your relationship with him kept resurfacing.

he, too, seemed preoccupied. he found you during lunch, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a look of vulnerability. as you sat together, you noticed the tension in his shoulders and the sadness in his eyes. “can we talk?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. you nodded, leading him to a quieter corner of the school grounds where you could have some privacy. “what’s on your mind?”

he took a deep breath, struggling to articulate his feelings. “it’s haejoon. i’ve always wanted his approval, his love, but no matter what i do, it feels like i'm never enough. it’s like no matter how hard i try, i'm just not able to earn his respect.”

you could see the pain in his eyes, and it tugged at your heart. without hesitation, you pulled him into a comforting hug, your arms encircling him in a gesture of reassurance. “you’re enough, namjoon. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. you’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask.” his breath hitched slightly as he absorbed the comfort you offered. in that embrace, he felt a wave of emotions he had been trying to suppress. the connection between you deepened, and he realized that his feelings for you had grown beyond mere friendship.

later that day, he sought out soyeon in the crowded hallways. he found her standing near her locker, her posture rigid and her expression expectant. “soyeon,” he began, his voice firm but conflicted, “i need to talk to you about the plan.”

her eyes narrowed, a hint of irritation in her gaze. “oh? what about it?” his resolve was clear. “i’m calling it off. i can’t go through with it. i'm not going to sabotage hanbok group or manipulate (y/n).”

her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. “caught feelings, have we?” his silence was all the confirmation she needed. her expression shifted from mockery to anger. “you’re serious? you’ve actually fallen for her?”

he nodded, his frustration evident. “yes, i have. i can’t do this anymore.” her demeanor grew colder. “you realize what this means, don’t you? if you back out now, i'll go public with our separation. it’ll be a scandal that’ll damage your family’s company even further. you can’t just walk away from this.”

the threat was clear, and namjoon felt the weight of it press down on him. the thought of his company facing additional fallout was unbearable. he was trapped between his burgeoning feelings for you and the ruthless demands of soyeon. swallowing his pride and masking his inner turmoil, he forced himself to comply. “alright,” he said, his voice strained. “i’ll go through with the plan. i’ll make sure it happens.”

her expression softened slightly, satisfied with his compliance. “good. i’ll be watching. don’t disappoint me, namjoon.”

the bond between you and namjoon continued to deepen with each passing day. as the weeks went by, your relationship evolved from friendship to something undeniably more intense. despite the growing affection between you, he struggled internally. he found himself torn between the desire for his family's approval and the undeniable pull of his feelings for you. the more his family praised him for his involvement with you, the more conflicted he felt.

one night, the hanbok nightclub was abuzz with activity. the grand opening had been a resounding success, and the club had quickly become one of the city's most talked-about venues. you were there, dressed in a stunning gold dress that shimmered under the nightclub's lights. you had taken up a spot on the floor above, enjoying the view and savoring the evening.

namjoon spotted you from the dance floor below and felt a rush of admiration. the way your dress sparkled in the ambient light, the elegance with which you carried yourself—everything about you seemed to captivate him. he made his way up to where you were standing, his eyes never leaving you as he approached. “(y/n),” he said softly, his voice almost lost amidst the noise of the club. “you look absolutely mesmerizing tonight.”

you turned to face him, a smile spreading across your lips. his words, combined with the way he looked at you, made your heart race. the intensity of the moment was palpable, and you both seemed to forget about everything else around you. the music and chatter of the nightclub faded into the background as the connection between you grew stronger.

his gaze dropped to your lips, and before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned in and kissed you. the kiss was gentle at first, but quickly escalated into something more passionate. his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the world outside seemed to vanish. caught up in the moment, you pulled away slightly, your breath mingling with his. “there are private rooms in the back,” you whispered, a mischievous glint in your eye. “we could have more privacy there.”

he nodded, his eyes dark with desire. without another word, you took his hand and guided him through the crowd, leading him towards the back of the nightclub. the private rooms were a secluded escape from the bustling main area, providing a more intimate setting. once inside, the room was dimly lit, with plush furnishings and a cozy atmosphere. the door closed behind you, shutting out the noise and leaving you both in a private sanctuary. as soon as you were alone, his lips found yours again, the kiss heated and fervent. his hands roamed your body, exploring and caressing with a hunger that matched your own.

you guided him to a nearby sofa, where you both sank into the cushions, the kisses growing more urgent. the warmth of his body against yours, the way his hands traced your curves, and the intensity of his gaze made everything feel electric.

namjoon stepped closer, his eyes devouring you body like a starving man. he reached out and traced a finger along the neckline of your dress, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "you look incredible," he murmured, his voice a velvet rumble that seemed to resonate in your very bones. “take it off for me.”

your hands trembled slightly as you obeyed, the fabric sliding down your body to pool at your feet. you stepped out of the dress, revealing the lacy lingerie that matched the color of the gold fabric. he took a sharp breath in, his eyes widening with desire. “i knew you'd look even better without it,” he said, his voice thick with lust.

he stepped closer, closing the distance between you, and before you could react, he had you pressed against the nearest wall. his hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, then sliding up to cup your tits. he squeezed gently, his thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples. “you're so fucking perfect,” he whispered against your neck, his breath hot and heavy. you gasped, arching into his touch, your body begging for more.

he leaned in and claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading yours with a hunger that left you breathless. you could feel the bulge in his pants, pressing against you, a silent promise of what was to come. his hands slid down to the hem of your panties, and with a swift motion, he ripped them away. the sound of the fabric tearing filled the room, a declaration of his intent.

he stepped back, admiring your naked form, his eyes lingering on the apex of your thighs. “spread your legs for me,” he ordered, his voice firm and demanding. you complied, your legs quivering with anticipation. he dropped to his knees, his breath hot against your skin. “you're so wet already,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. he licked a slow path up your slit, and you cried out, nails digging into the wall behind you.

he stood up, unbuckling his pants with swift, efficient movements. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you couldn't help but stare. “like what you see?” he smirked, stroking himself slowly. you nodded, your mouth dry with desire. “good, because you're about to get a taste.”

without warning, he plunged into you, filling you up in one swift motion. you cried out, your body stretching to accommodate his size. he didn't stop, his hips moving in a steady, punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. “you're so tight,” he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. “i can feel every inch of you.”

your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the sound of your skin slapping echoing in the quiet room. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, walls clenching around him. he leaned in, whispering filthy words into your ear, telling you exactly how good you felt, how much he wanted you. you met each thrust with one of your own, hips rolling to meet his, driving him even deeper.

the tension built between you, a crescendo of passion that could no longer be contained. you both knew what was coming, the inevitable explosion that would shake you to your very cores. you were lost in each other, hearts pounding in time with the music that pulsed through the walls. as you both approached the edge, your movements grew more frantic, breaths more ragged. “i love you,” you gasped, the words slipping out before you could stop them. namjoon's eyes snapped to yours, a look of shock and disbelief crossing his face. but then, a soft smile spread across his lips. “i love you too,” he murmured, his voice filled with a vulnerability you had never heard before.

the next few days unfolded with a whirlwind of emotions and new experiences. your bond with namjoon continued to deepen, growing more intense with each passing moment. the connection you shared became evident to everyone, and photos of the two of you started flooding the internet. the media coverage was relentless, and while it brought both praise and scrutiny, it also highlighted the undeniable chemistry between you.

amidst the flurry of attention, you and him spent more time together, finding solace in each other's company. despite the external chaos, these moments became a refuge where you could escape the pressures and expectations that surrounded you. one evening, as you both sat in the lounge of the nightclub after hours, namjoon looked contemplative, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a quiet seriousness. the soft glow of the dim lights cast a warm hue over his face, revealing the subtle lines of worry etched upon it.

“you know,” he began, his voice low and hesitant, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” you turned to him, your curiosity piqued. “what is it, namjoon?”

he took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. “it’s about my engagement to soyeon. i've never really talked about it, but i think it’s time you knew.” you listened attentively, sensing the gravity of his words. his expression was one of vulnerability, and it was clear that this was something he had been carrying alone for a long time.

“engagements in our world aren’t always about love,” he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. “it’s more about alliances, business deals, and family expectations. soyeon and i—we’re both trapped in this arrangement because our families want it. neither of us wanted it, but we have to go along with it.” you reached out and took his hand in yours, offering a comforting squeeze. “i'm sorry you’re going through this, namjoon. it must be really difficult, feeling like you’re not in control of your own life.”

he nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and guilt. “it is. and i know it’s no excuse for what’s happened between us, but it’s hard not to feel like i’m betraying everyone. the guilt is eating me up inside.” you looked at him with understanding, your heart aching for the turmoil he was experiencing. “you’re not betraying anyone. you’re just trying to find happiness in a situation that’s been forced upon you. it’s okay to feel conflicted.” he remained silent, his gaze fixed on your intertwined fingers. the weight of his confession seemed to lift slightly, but the guilt still lingered in his eyes. your words resonated with his situation too much—everything he had been doing behind your back, it was like he was going against everything he stood for. like he had been lying to you from the very start, but how could he?

the grand opening of wang industries’ new nightclub was set to be a spectacle, a symbol of the flourishing partnership between your company and theirs. the event was meant to be a celebration of collaboration, showcasing the mutual benefits of your alliance. as part of the evening’s arrangement, you and jackson were to make a dramatic entrance together, reinforcing the image of unity between your companies.

you walked into the club with him by your side, his arm wrapped around your waist. the crowd's reaction was immediate and electric, cheers and applause filling the room as the spotlight illuminated the two of you. the public's frenzy was palpable, and the media coverage was intense. it was all part of the plan, a well-orchestrated stunt to make headlines and reinforce the partnership’s strength.

the moment, however, was abruptly interrupted. namjoon, who had been watching from a distance, felt a wave of raw emotion surge through him. the sight of you and jackson together, the way his arm was possessively draped around you, was too much for him to bear. his heart pounded, his feelings of betrayal and jealousy mingling into a potent mix of anger.

without thinking, namjoon strode forward, his face set in a grimace. the crowd fell silent as he approached, the tension in the air thickening. before anyone could react, he threw a punch straight at jackson’s face. the blow landed with a sickening thud, and he stumbled back, surprised but quickly regaining his stance.

“are you out of your mind?” jackson spat, his voice filled with anger. he wiped the blood from his lip, glaring at namjoon. “you've got a lot of stones to throw for someone in a glass house.” your shock was evident as you rushed to jackson's side, wiping away the excess blood as your heart pounded. your wide-eyed gaze switched from one man to the other.

you looked between them, confused and alarmed. “what’s going on? what do you mean by that?” namjoon’s face was a mask of frustration and pain, and he remained silent. jackson’s smirk widened as he seized the opportunity to reveal the truth. “come on, joon, tell her. the house was bound to break at some point.”

your eyes darted from jackson to namjoon, searching for answers. when namjoon didn’t speak, jackson took it upon himself to explain. “your boyfriend and his fiancée had a plan. he was supposed to seduce you to bring down hanbok group from the inside. the whole thing was a setup.” the words hit you like a punch to the gut. “no,” you said, laughing without a hint of humor. “that can’t be true, right?”

the silence that followed was deafening. you looked at namjoon, his eyes filled with tears and regret. the realization sank in, and the truth became painfully clear. his actions, his earlier promises, and the moments you shared—they had all been part of a twisted scheme. the betrayal cut deep. namjoon, his voice choked with remorse, managed to whisper, “i'm sorry.”

the apology only fueled your anger. you brought up your hand, only to bring it down across his face, the sting of the contact echoing your hurt and disappointment. “how could you?” jackson stepped in, smirking at the scene. “who do you think soyeon’s fucking on the side? she tells me everything.”

the betrayal was overwhelming, and you felt as if your world was collapsing around you. all you could think about was getting away from the chaos and the lies. you turned on your heel and fled the nightclub, the sound of the commotion fading behind you as you rushed out into the night. the sting of betrayal and the weight of broken trust were nearly unbearable, and all you wanted was to escape and process the painful reality of what had just been revealed.

as you fled from the nightclub, your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the betrayal you felt. the cold night air stung your cheeks, but the sharp pain of betrayal was far more intense. you rushed through the dimly lit streets, your breath coming in ragged gasps as tears blurred your vision. behind you, namjoon was desperately trying to catch up. his voice broke through the darkness, filled with anguish and regret. “wait! please, just wait!”

you continued to walk briskly, not wanting to give in. but his relentless pursuit forced you to stop. panting, you faced him, the cold wind whipping through your hair. “everything was a lie?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. “you had sex with me, told me you loved me. just like that.”

namjoon’s face was a picture of torment. “no, it wasn’t like that. i meant every word i said. i truly did. i begged soyeon to put the plan off, but she threatened me. said she’d go public and ruin everything if i didn’t follow through. i just—iwanted my family’s approval, and i didn’t know how to stop it.”

his eyes were filled with genuine sorrow, and you could see the depth of his regret. but the hurt and betrayal you felt were too overwhelming. you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “i hope their approval was worth it.” with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the street, watching you retreat. the night seemed darker and colder as you made your way back home, your thoughts racing with the events of the evening.

the next morning, the weight of the previous night’s events was still heavy on your shoulders. as you shuffled through the living room, the television blared with news about the scandal that had erupted. the screen displayed images of you and jackson, along with headlines about the altercation and the fallout from the nightclub’s opening. the impact was immediate and severe. your company’s sales began to plummet, and the media frenzy only added fuel to the fire. the news seemed to taunt you with every broadcast, a relentless reminder of the public humiliation and the damage done.

in the kim manor, however, the atmosphere was quite different. namjoon’s family gathered around, cheering him on as if he had emerged victorious. their approval was palpable, yet namjoon himself was far from triumphant. his face was a mask of despondency, a stark contrast to the elation of those around him.

back in your home, the situation was equally strained. eunha found you in a state of distress, her face etched with concern as she watched the news. despite the severe drop in your company’s sales, she remained a pillar of support. she wrapped her arms around you in a comforting hug, her presence a soothing balm to your wounded spirit. “we’ll get through this,” she assured you. “i’ll take care of the fallout. we’ll find a way to fix this. it’ll all be okay.” her words, though calming, did little to erase the sting of betrayal or the uncertainty of the future. you clung to her reassurance, finding solace in her unwavering support as you both faced the daunting task of repairing the damage and moving forward from the scandal that had rocked your world.

the days following the scandal were a whirlwind of turmoil and distress. the fallout from the nightclub incident extended far beyond the immediate embarrassment. at school, the situation was just as brutal. whispers and mocking glances followed you through the hallways, and every classroom felt like a stage for public ridicule. you were isolated, left to navigate the hostile environment alone. the once familiar faces of your classmates now seemed cold and distant, their earlier camaraderie replaced by harsh judgment.

jackson was the only one who stood by your side. his presence was a rare comfort in the sea of hostility, and he did his best to shield you from the worst of it. he took on the role of a defender, confronting anyone who dared to speak ill of you and making it clear that their behavior was unacceptable. despite his efforts, you couldn’t shake the lingering resentment toward him. his failure to disclose the truth about the scheme had deeply hurt you. His words, though sometimes harsh, were a small consolation amidst the overwhelming negativity.

in the midst of all of it, namjoon watched the drama unfold from a distance, his heart heavy with regret. every time he saw you being treated unjustly, it pierced him deeply. the sight of Jackson standing up for you, despite his own flaws, only highlighted how namjoon had failed to protect you when it mattered most. he grappled with his guilt, knowing he had played a role in the orchestrated chaos that had so thoroughly disrupted your life.

that night, he was scheduled to give a live report regarding the scandal. his family, sensing an opportunity to further their own agenda, encouraged him to use the platform to discredit your company as much as possible. they saw it as a chance to solidify their position and finally diminish your company. despite their pressure, namjoon’s conscience weighed heavily on him. he knew you would be watching, and the thought of adding more pain to your already wounded spirit was unbearable.

when the cameras rolled and the broadcast began, namjoon took a deep breath, bracing himself for the weight of his words. the studio was brightly lit, the atmosphere tense as reporters and cameras focused on him. his heart raced, and for a moment, he struggled to maintain his composure. the pressure to conform to his family's demands was immense, but as he looked into the camera, he saw your face in his mind.

he began his speech with a steely resolve, his voice calm but firm. “to those of you who are watching and, (y/n), i know you’re watching—i want to say this directly to you.” his gaze seemed to penetrate through the camera, reaching out across the miles. “don’t let these people fool you. (y/n) (l/n) and eunha (l/n) built their business from the ground up and used what little resources they had to make it happen. what happened was nothing but a publicity stunt set up by kim group to tear hanbok group down. please, support them as you always have.”

the words hung in the air, their impact palpable. namjoon’s declaration was a shocking turn of events, and the nation watched in stunned silence. for a moment, the spotlight shifted from the scandalous drama to his unexpected defense of your company. the studio fell silent, the only sound being the low hum of the camera equipment.

back at your home, you sat in stunned disbelief as the broadcast played on the television. the room felt eerily quiet as you absorbed his words. the gravity of his statement was overwhelming, and for a moment, you felt as though the world had stopped spinning. the anger and betrayal you had felt were momentarily eclipsed by a flood of conflicting emotions. eunha, who had been beside you through the entire ordeal, was equally shocked. her eyes widened as she listened to his defense, her expression a mixture of astonishment and confusion. the unexpected turn of events left you both in stunned silence, processing the weight of his public declaration.

the impact on hanbok group was immediate and profound. the public’s perception began to shift, with many people rallying in support of your company. the initial backlash softened as the truth behind the scandal was revealed. the sales slump began to recover, and the damage caused by the scandal started to heal.

later that night, the weight of the day's events had left you restless. tossing and turning in bed, you struggled to find solace amidst the turmoil of emotions. the soft glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room. just as you were beginning to drift back into a fitful sleep, a series of urgent knocks echoed through the quiet house, jolting you awake.

confused and still groggy, you made your way to the front door. as you peered through the peephole, your heart skipped a beat. standing on the other side was namjoon, his figure shrouded in the darkness of the night. you opened the door without hesitation, instinctively ushering him inside.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. the chill of the night air had seeped into the hallway, and you quickly pulled him in, closing the door behind him. his face was etched with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. “my speech, it got me kicked out of the house,” he explained, his voice tinged with a note of frustration and sorrow. “i had nowhere else to go.”

you guided him inside, leading him to your room. the warmth of the interior was a welcoming contrast to the cold he had just endured. namjoon’s eyes were filled with remorse as he took in the space, a safe haven he had come to, despite the circumstances.

“i'm so sorry,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “i never meant for any of this to happen. i meant everything i said. i love you, i'd rather be your lover than their successor. if it means losing my family, then i’d rather have you.” his words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. the vulnerability in his gaze made it clear how deeply he regretted the hurt he had caused. the pain and betrayal you felt were still fresh, but seeing him so raw and honest made something shift within you.

you took a deep breath, your heart aching with a mix of love and lingering hurt. “namjoon,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i love you too. i always have. if losing your family means that you can be with me, then i'd rather be your family. i want us to find a way to be together.”

his eyes welled with tears, the weight of his actions and their consequences finally hitting home. he reached out, pulling you into a tender embrace. the warmth of his body against yours was a comfort after the chaos of the day. you both held each other tightly, the silence of the room filled with unspoken promises and the hope of a new beginning.

the night wore on as you both sat together, wrapped in each other's arms. the emotional barriers between you slowly began to dissolve, replaced by a sense of understanding and reconciliation. the world outside continued to spin, but within the safety of your room, the turmoil of the day seemed to fade, leaving only the quiet, steadfast bond between you.

✧.*

a/n: two fanfics in one night is wild ngl lowkey sad but i fw the heirs idc what anybody says the heirs was the blueprint for romance kdramas. kim tan was literally THE blueprint.

[interesting-interludes]

the comforts of creatures (5)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: supernatural!au, soulmate!au, hurt + comfort + recovery, angst with a happy ending, fluff, eventual smut

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.

A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.

Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.

You can’t speak.

You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.

No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.

A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.

The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.

“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”

“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”

Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.

You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.

Now you know why.

Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.

You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.

“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.

From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.

“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.

Your face scrunches in confusion.

“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.

You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.

Simple as that.

But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.

Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.

“They said...” you begin hesitantly.

They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.

“They said that they were monsters.”

Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.

“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”

They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.

Your stomach churns.

“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”

They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.

Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.

Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.

Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.

You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.

One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.

The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.

The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.

The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.

You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.

“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”

Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.

But how could you know that now?

They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.

Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.

For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.

Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.

All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.

Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.

Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.

Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.

Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.

He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”

As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.

Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.

Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.

“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.

“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”

Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.

All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.

Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.

Jin notices the signs immediately.

“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.

Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.

Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.

“Go ahead, let it out,”

You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.

“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”

Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.

“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.

The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.

He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.

For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.

“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.

The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.

The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.

It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.

You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.

The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.

The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.

Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.

Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.

“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”

The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.

“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.

It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?

You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.

You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.

Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.

When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.

Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.

The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.

You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.

He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.

This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.

The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.

“Shower or bath?” he asks.

It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.

Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.

They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.

You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.

Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.

They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.

Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.

You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.

Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.

Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.

So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.

The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.

Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.

You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.

The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.

Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.

Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.

Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?” 

Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.

His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.

On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.

When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.

There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.

Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.

He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.

You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.

Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.

What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.

They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.

He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.

A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.

A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.

Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.

“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”

They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.

Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”

Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.

Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.

He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.

“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.

He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.

You nod slightly.

It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.

Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.

They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.

Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.

Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.

“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.

“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.

You nod.

Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.

“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”

You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.

It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.

Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.

You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.

Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.

“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”

You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.

Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.

He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.

Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.

When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.

Another breath releases from your lungs.

You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.

You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.

The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.

The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.

Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.

You know there are worse scars behind you.

Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.

It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.

You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.

You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.

A gentle knock on the door. 

You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.

Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.

“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”

You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.

You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.

Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.

“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.

You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.

It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.

“Much better, hmm?” he says.

You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room. 

It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.

Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.

They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.

Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”

Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.

The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.

“This should settle your stomach,” he says.

While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.

You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.

He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.

“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.

“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.

This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid. 

They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.

Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.

“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”

You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.

Jin enters your field of vision again.

“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.

But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.

“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.

One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.

You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.

The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely. 

Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.

You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down. 

You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖

[deltarunebt]

some different ideas of what happens after getting to the mansion and purifying the fountain.