#bts suga series

[jimxnslight]

Fool's Gold || Part I

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

<< masterlist || next part >>

“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”

Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 

Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 

On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 

When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 

“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”

He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 

“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 

“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”

Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”

Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”

He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 

“I don’t know.”

Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 

“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”

“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”

“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”

“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 

Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”

Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 

“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.

“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”

Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, ��you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”

Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 

“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.

Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”

Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 

At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 

Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 

Only power. 

The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 

You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 

The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 

To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 

He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 

He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 

Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 

A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 

Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 

Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.

As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 

You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 

The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.

Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 

Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 

Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.

To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 

At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 

Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 

A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

So he tried not to be unsettled. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 

He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.

Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?

-

-

-

The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 

The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 

It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.

Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 

There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 

He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 

“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”

The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 

Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” He prodded. 

Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”

Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”

“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 

“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 

“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”

Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”

Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”

“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 

Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 

It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 

“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”

The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.

“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.

“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”

To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 

Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”

Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 

“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 

Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 

A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 

The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 

Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 

The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 

You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 

You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 

“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 

Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 

“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 

His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 

Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 

“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 

Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?

“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 

Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 

But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 

“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 

You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 

He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”

You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 

He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 

“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”

You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 

Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 

Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 

It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?

He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 

“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 

“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 

He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”

But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”

Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 

You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 

A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 

His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.

His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 

Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.

Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 

“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 

Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 

“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.

But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 

“Jungko-”

Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 

“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.

Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 

“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 

“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.

 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 

Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 

“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 

Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 

“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.

You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 

He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 

“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 

“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”

Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”

You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”

Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”

But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 

“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”

The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.

“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 

Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.

Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”

You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.

“I want a divorce.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 

It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 

You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.

“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.

Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.

“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”

Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.

Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 

“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 

You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 

“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”

He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”

Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”

It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 

“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”

You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 

And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 

“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”

Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”

“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 

“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”

Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 

It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 

He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.

“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”

Jungkook tilted his head in response. 

“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”

Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”

He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.

Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 

Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 

His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 

What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 

But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.

You were quite the enigma.

But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

[yooboobies]

his laugh is everything (1/?)

{cr. 0613data}

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride

PAIRING: YoongixReader

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

(You can also read it on AO3)

A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated. 

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an expresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy. 

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—” 

Your voice wavered, what were you— 

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the expresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. You to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out. 

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower. 

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy? 

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed. 

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed. 

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.” 

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer. 

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth. 

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you. 

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated. 

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable. 

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly.  And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You wait until I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?” 

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost. 

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward. 

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked. 

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last. 

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar. 

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

[yoongikook]

unlimited gifs of min yoongi ➔ 34/?

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [4] (myg)

title: and the hits keep coming 2.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut summary: just when you thought yoongi couldn't surprise you anymore, it happens again. warnings: [other parts should be read before this one] a lot more feelings of insecurity and sad vibes, yoongi stepping over oc's boundaries, oc being disrespected yet again (nothing new nothing changed same old shit same old fucking shit)

You were tempted to ignore him, but with Nao involved, you couldn’t avoid dealing with him.

“You should go eat. I can just talk to him for you…?” Taehyung suggests as he watches you contemplate your next move.

That would be great help to you. While you couldn’t afford to avoid him forever, maybe a few days wouldn’t hurt. So, with an overwhelming and shaky sigh, you passed the phone to him.

He hurriedly motions for you to leave the room. And you reluctantly do so.

Taehyung scrunches his nose and shuts the door in your face.

Fighting the urge to hold a glass against the door, you forced yourself to wait in the kitchen till he was done.

On the other side of the door, Taehyung angrily exhales, taking his own sweet time to answer your phone. Then the call drops.

Not even a second later, the loud ringtone fills the room once again. It reeks of desperation.

“Hello?”

No response.

He tries again, “Hello?”

“…Taehyung?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

After another pause, the voice scoffs, “Figures.”

A bit taken aback, Taehyung bit his tongue, “What do you want?”

Taehyung hears nothing back. “Yoongi? Why’d you call?”

“I called _____, not you.”

“Well, she can’t talk now.”

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to bite back. “This has nothing to do with you, Tae. I just need to talk to her.”

“You can’t. You have me instead. What more do you have to say?”

There’s yet another long pause.

“How is she?”

Taehyung almost laughs in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. How do you think, Yoongi? Is the future Mrs. Min okay with you asking about your ex?”  

“Careful, Taehyung-”

“Does everyone else know already?”  

“Of course not, I went straight to _____’s. And nobody can know about it either. We’re not ready. I just…”

Taehyung grew more confused the longer Yoongi took to speak.

“I need to talk to her, Taehyung. I really… I messed up.”

“Did something more happen?”

Another pause.

“No. I just had to check in… Can I come by tomorrow? I still need to drop Mimi off.”

“Uh… right, about that. Listen…” Taehyung thinks for a second, “I think, maybe it’d be better if you just let her breathe for a moment. And I’ll come get Naomi.”

Another pause.

“Did she ask for that?”

Taehyung had half a mind to lie about it but he refrained, deciding that the truth would hurt him more. “You know she’d never. She’s too… stupid-” Stupidly in love with you. “-and you need to stop taking advantage of her; you need to hold back, Yoongi. You can’t go running to her for everything anymore.”

Yoongi knew he was in the wrong, but was annoyed that Taehyung was the one to tell him that.

Still a little in denial, he childishly spits, “Fine, bye. Get here before 7.”

Taehyung wanted to retaliate but he was immediately met with a little digital sound indicating that Yoongi had hung up on him.

A little bemused, Taehyung pulls your purple Samsung away from his ear and stares at it--- “So fucking typical.”

As Taehyung steps out of your room, he almost bulldozes you down.

“Jesus, _____.” Frowning, he asks, “Were you eavesdropping?”

You shook your head and wordlessly waved a jar of tiramisu in front of his nose.

Taehyung eyes you suspiciously, “I’m going to pick Naomi up tomorrow.”

When he says that, your face visibly drops. You didn’t actually expect Yoongi to pull away so fast. Was his girlfriend already keeping him from you now? You almost wanted to smack yourself in the head for thinking like you owned him.

Taehyung debates on whether he should elaborate or wait to see if you ask about it.

But you just gently and nonchalantly nod, “Right, of course. That’s okay. Please bring her here by 7.”

“He didn’t ask for this!” Taehyung blurts.

Your expression doesn’t change.

A little intimidated, he looked straight at his feet and explained, “I offered to pick her up. But Yoongi called because he wanted to talk to you. I just told him that I thought it was a bad idea.”

When he doesn’t hear you react, he slowly looks up at you, suddenly feeling miniscule. And he swore he could see steam coming out of your ears.

Taking a deep breath, you stare into his eyes, “You need to stop overstepping. You’ve done it once already. You need to stop.”

He almost felt the heat radiating from you.  

Almost as if he didn’t actually expect you to react so negatively, he asks, “_____... You’re really mad about this?”

You slam your jar on the coffee table and storm off into the kitchen.

“The first time you meddled, Yoongi left me. The second time, he happened to meet his future wife. What’s it going to be now?”

Taehyung was stunned, “Are you kidding me? Are you just mad that I’m looking out for you in ways you yourself wouldn’t or do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you planned it all,” you glare at him accusingly.

Too stunned to digest what you accused him of, his eyes just widened in bewilderment. “_____. I- Planned what, _____?”

You tip your head forward in mockery, “Planned what? Take a guess.”

The room fills with silence once more.

Taehyung shook his head, “I’m going to ignore all of that. And fine, I’ll ask him to call you back then.”

“No!” – “No?” He parrots.

“I don’t want him to call me.” You almost whine. You don’t even know what you truly want. (Actually, you do.)

“Okay.” Taehyung nodded reassuringly, his hands grasping at your elbows, “He won’t. I’ll bring Naomi back tomorrow. Okay?” But you shook your head obstinately, “No, I want her back now.”

“Right now?” - “Now.”

“_____...” He looked at the grandfather clock on your wall.

Cringing a little, Taehyung attempts to reason with you, “_____, it’s Yoongi’s turn to have her.”

“Yeah, that’s a spoken agreement, not a written and notarized thing. He can’t stop me from wanting to spend time with my daughter.” You’re sure this is evil _____ speaking and it’s as if you can’t control her.  

Taehyung nervously cracks his knuckles. He doesn’t have a counter argument. You are Naomi’s mother and arguably the primary caretaker after all. He figures he owes you this.

“So, will you get her back for me?” You weren’t really giving him an option.

Taehyung knew your word was final. Either way, he wouldn’t police you on being a mother. “Let me give Yoongi a call, okay?”

“You do that. I’ll make you something to eat before you go!” You smile sweetly.

Not quite sure of your strategy here, all you knew was that you wanted your daughter with you. It was your way of gaining some control back in your life. You don’t have it in you to think of whether or not this was ethical or right. You just did not want to spiral.

From the kitchen, you could faintly hear Taehyung on the phone.

You take note of his assertiveness and slap some extra mortadella on his sandwich. He deserved it for putting up with you. You couldn’t think of anyone else who’d still be with you and handle your mood swings.

Was that normal or just sad? You do not want to think.

In your mind, you were satisfied in life. Sometimes you regret bringing up marriage with Yoongi. Maybe if you hadn’t forced the idea on him, you could’ve been in Hyejin’s place now.

The fact that you’re even in this position is ridiculous. Sooner or later you’d have to face… everything. The reason they’re getting married and you aren’t. The fact that they might have Nao be a part of their wedding and you’d just have to smile and nod, that Nao may have another parental figure, that you won’t be Yoongi’s bride or a bride at all, ever, and that maybe you’ve lost Yoongi’s companionship forever.

You had to step out for a bit.

Right at that moment, Taehyung emerges from the living room into the kitchen.

Sighing, he starts, “So, he agreed. He wants to know if everything’s okay. Of course, I know it isn’t but I told him he had nothing to worry about. And he didn’t buy it.” –

You push the little ceramic plate towards him, “Eat your sandwich.”

Taking a large bite out of it, Taehyung thanks you and adds, “--- by the way, your food is on the dining table, I didn’t actually give it away, you know?”

“I saw it,” you confirmed, “Jus’ not hungry.”

Quickly changing the topic back to Nao, you ask, “So, can Nao be back now or…?”

“Yeah. Here’s the thing…” He stalled. “Nao’s coming now.”

A gulp. You think he’s swallowing his food.

“Yoongi’s coming with.”

‘Why do you always bring me bad news?’ is what you wanted to ask. Instead, you squeak out a “When?”

“Twenty minutes? Told me Nao was already dolled up or something.” He finishes his sandwich and washes the plate.

In a soothing tone, Taehyung proposes, “Why don’t you head down to the pâtisserie? I’ll receive them. You don’t have to worry about seeing him, okay?”

You appreciated his offer but chose to decline it, “No. It’s okay. I need to tidy up anyway,” – “_____, I’ll do it for you. I know how you like it. Go take a walk or grab a sweet treat or something, yes?”

“No, it’ll take too long for you to do it by yourself. You can help me though. Just do my bed, please?” You’re already walking off.

Taehyung follows you into your room but doesn’t have a chance to stop you, you’re already stripping down and into your ‘serious cleaning’ clothes. It’s just an old dress and rubber gloves.

Sometimes, Taehyung mourns what you and Yoongi could have been. You’re perfect for each other. The two of you just needed to work on your communication a little. He’s thinking about how much of you Yoongi’s missing out on and can’t help but scoff. In pop culture terms, he really fumbled you.

Suddenly you gasp, “Did you watch me change?” Aimed at the man.

“No!” Vehemently shaking his head, he repeats, “Not intentionally! I was zoned out!”

“Wow, calm down, I don’t mind, you know that.” You smile sweetly once again.

Grabbing a pillow, he sighs. Sometimes, he thinks you toy with him on purpose. He really can’t tell.

 ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Forty minutes go by yet there has been no sign of Nao or Yoongi. No calls or messages, no updates whatsoever.

You ought to get Nao a little phone for herself. How had you not thought of this before? It’ll probably be a lot more useful now.

You were nervously readjusting the doilies in a circle over and over again when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Taehyung’s resting figure suddenly snapped upright, “I’ll get it.”

However, you were closer to the door and got to it before he could take two steps.

When you open the door, you wished Taehyung would’ve beaten you to it. You wish you had taken that walk or chosen to buy yourself a sweet drink; because you couldn’t even have guessed what was waiting for you on the other side of the door.

Nothing could have prepared you to see your ex-boyfriend with his current girlfriend and your daughter. Together. All of them. Holding hands. In front of you for the very first time. All of them.

While Yoongi had the decency of looking literally anywhere but in your eyes, you couldn’t say the same about his girlfriend. Fiancée.

Hyejin, placed between your daughter and your ex, exhaled a dreamy smile. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding, _____! Nao-chan wanted to show you our matching hairstyle!”

Bewildered and wordless, all you could do was smile and nod. You mechanically turn your head to look at Nao, who sported a baby pink lock of hair amongst her regular, natural hair identical to Hyejin’s.

You nodded and stepped aside, briefly bumping into Taehyung who looked just as uncomfortable as Yoongi, making space for the lovely family to step into your home. Your eyes were glued to your feet.

Just like always, before you take a drastic step, your daughter grounds you as she runs to you and clings to your lower half. Although, the pink strands of hair brushing against you almost make you lose it all. Almost.

Following which Taehyung breaks the tension by awkwardly, yet warmly greeting the pair, taking a load off of you.

You needed to lie down.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ how to disappear completely by radiohead ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: sorry! it probably gets better! i think this one has a few edits pending but i couldn't waitttt

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

daechwita

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | series masterlist

Going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin. → Trope: friends to best friends with benefits to lovers (they be messy and confused, lol) → AUs: non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!au (Yoongi is a mechanic) → Genre: humor, (slight) angst, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 131.6K (things got out of hand, lol and it's mainly smut 💀) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Warnings/tags: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain smut, almost in every chapter (not the first though). → Taglist: Closed. → Status: Completed! (I'm still doing some extras for it now and then)

🍃 Chapter 1 Summary: As exhaustion and stress threaten to consume you and your friends at work, Yoongi comes to the rescue with an enticing proposal: a collective vacation—a friendcation. Amid the backdrop of breathtaking landscapes and shared adventures, your feelings for him only deepens more. Yet, his lingering gaze holds secrets you can't ignore, leaving you to wonder if it conceals something deeper—an unspoken connection that may forever alter your friendship. Word count: 11,9K | Read → chapter one 🍃Chapter 2 Summary: When you get a flat tire, you think it’s bad luck, but when you fall flat on your ass and Yoongi offers to massage the pain away, has your luck finally turned? 😜 Word count: 12.7K | Read → chapter two 🍃Chapter 3 Summary: When you and Yoongi visit his family in Daegu, and he introduces you as his friend, it rubs you all kind of wrong. But what are you even to each other, other than best friends with benefits? Word count: 11.9K | Read → chapter three 🍃Chapter 4 Summary: It’s the last weeks of the vacation being just you and Yoongi, and you’re going to savor every last bit of it. You do some hiking, relaxing and discover new sides to yourself that you didn’t know existed. Word count: 17.7K | Read → chapter four 🍃Chapter 5 Summary: Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin have finally joined you on your trip and it’s going great; you have a tremendous amount of fun (some at your expense), laughter and talks about life. Namjoon suddenly asks you where you think this thing with Yoongi is heading, and to be honest you don’t really know yourself – you just know that you love him. Word count: 23K | Read → chapter five 🍃Chapter 6 Summary: Your vacation is coming to an end but your thoughts are spiraling and filled with anxiety as a tiny mishap makes you question your future with Yoongi. Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter six 🍃Chapter 7 [finale] Summary: Melancholy shrouds you and Yoongi in your last days of vacation – time to get back home to the daily grind. But when you can visit Yoongi in his garage, is it really so bad? Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter seven

🍃Extras🍃

🍃Wedding special Summary: Yoongi has done everything in his power to make your wedding truly special, what he couldn’t plan for was the rain. But fret not, a bit of rain will not make your day less special when it’s surrounded by friends and family. And your wedding night? Well, being pushed down into the sheets by Yoongi is easily one of your favorite things. Word count: 12.2k | Read → the wedding special

🍃Honeymoon special Summary: You and Yoongi travel to Scandinavia for your honeymoon, well more like babymoon. You camp, fish, hike and enjoy nature as you always do, and you even go surfing! Word count: 8.7k | Read → the honeymoon special

🍃Pregnancy special Summary: You and Yoongi try to get pregnant, but it doesn’t go as planned, as the road isn’t easy. But he’s your rock, and he’ll stand with you through thick and thin 💜 Word count: 7.5k | Read → the pregnancy special (coming soon!)

🍃Winter special Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives? OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car. Word count: 10.3k | Read → the winter special

🍃Baby special Summary: TBA Word count: 3.5k | Read → the baby special (coming soon!)

→ Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

Crazy over you x Min Yoongi

[HYBRID AU]

FINAL

18+

The last bite

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

Authors Note: okay that’s a lot to unpack here!! First of all, I’m sorry for any grammatical errors, second I hope you guys like the last bite of this story, truly I cannot thank you guys enough for waiting and being here with me in this journey!! Let me know what you all think in the comments and see you guys!! 💖

🩸My master list 🩸

< Previously

……………………………………………………………………………….

Everything felt so unreal ever since we left the clinic. I had went through all the documents already, Jin and me signed all the forms for Yoongis adoption and we had already meet before taking our leave.

I couldn’t believe it even tho me and Jin were heading to my new apartment, taking the snake hybrid to my home where he would live for the rest of his life from now on. With Jin being his brother he wanted to be in charge of the entire process - and he wanted to see Yoongi finally free and in a comfortable home. I was glad Jin was there the whole time, i felt like i could lean on him if i felt nervous and i was only able to carry on with this process because of him.

We exchanged many smiles on the way, both of us shared the same fellings of excitement right now. Yoongi was in a different car behind us to accommodate him better, the white van was spacious and was safer for him to be transported to his destination.

It has been two weeks since i finished setting my knew apartment and making new adjustments to ensure it would be a comfortable environment for a hybrid Snake to live in, things i never once considered for myself i was now buying for him. I felt so nervous about the whole situation i made the decision to get a new place entirely for him, i feared my old small apartment would feel like a cage for him and immediately stared looking for a new place for us. This time he would have his own room, the apartment was simple but spacious i made very clear that a bigger place was a must when I meet with the agent.

I took some time off my work so I could be there for the first few weeks with Yoongi and help him adapt, I knew that with drastic changes he would be at his most sensitive moment for him and I was glad to have Jin by my side. He was so polite with everything, I couldn’t ask for a better friend and on top of that Yoongi was his brother. I could trust him and so could Yoongi.

When we had started the adopting process, Jin finally decided to talk things out with Yoongi and come clean about being his brother. It was a lot to unpack for Yoongi and unfortunately he didn’t liked the facts that much but, they’ve been trying. It wasn’t going to be an easy or quick thing to fix, I can’t blame Yoongi too. He has been living his whole life alone without family and now Jin appears to be his brother, both males were mature enough to know better then push a relationship they never had.

So far I knew they’ve been doing their best at being friends with each other, but they still need time.

When the car stopped in front of the building, my heart was almost coming out of my chest I felt an immense pressure the entire drive but even now it was like I was about to burst in all directions.

I shared one look with Jin before the both of us got out of the car, the van parked right behind his. I made my way around it towards the back as the staff opened the back doors to get Yoongi out.

For safety reasons he had to be on his collar but other than that he was completely free.

The weather today was nice, I felt great knowing it.

I watched as Yoongi came out of the car on his own, eyes wide open watching every little thing around him in complete awe, the sun shined over him making his scales noticeably lighter. I reached my hand out for him, his eyes immediately turning to mine as he walked towards me.

I geve him a small nervous smile, he looked me up and down before closing his hand around mine. This was the first time we were seeing each other outside the clinic, the first time he saw me as just me. Not his doctor.

I couldn’t decipher what was going on in his mind in that moment, he had a neutral expression. But he kept looking at every corner of my face, maybe wondering if this was truly real. That he was here.

Jin walked right behind with us as we entered the building, no one said anything but the silence was comforting in a way.

As the elevator begin to go up Yoongi stood closer to me, hand sneaking around my waist making me turn to him to give him a smile. This time he shyly smiled back, looking down at our hands still intertwined. I have been thinking about how our lives would be from now, what we would do together and how it would feel to be so close to him everyday. At first i was nervous, it is something the two of us never experienced before and i kept thinking: this is much different then being with him as his doctor. That thought made me nervous, but now, as we stand so close to each other i don’t feel nervous anymore. I don’t have to be someone else with him and i can just be myself. Not long after the doors opened and we all left at the same time, a few feet away in that long corridor was my new apartment, I was excited for everything that would come after we cross that door.

Yoongi must’ve notice, because I felt his hold in my hand slightly tightened. Immediately feeling his presence putting my nervousness at ease as I looked up into his eyes, his thumb caressing over the back of my hand the whole time.

The door had a smart digital lock, it was fancy and i wasn’t used with that knowing how forgetful I could be at times I made sure to have the pass code writing inside my wallet and after pressing the password in it feeling the snake hybrid eyes fallowing my every move, the door opened.

I let both Jin and Yoongi get in first standing behind to close the door, while i put my things on the small table beside the shoe rack stealing glances at the two. I watch as the brothers look around the entrance room.

The living room was the biggest part of the apartment and as soon as I entered i’m welcomed by simple but modern atmosphere of the living room, the apartment had a glass wall and we could see the entire city from the living room. I catch Jin looking around amazed as Yoongi looks around the white couch running his hands over the fabric.

- this view is incredible - Jin said, turning to face me.

- please, Jin we both know your house is much bigger than mine - i said, walking up to him.

- yeah…. But i don’t have this view. Is almost like a 3D movie screen.

- I know right, I fell in love with it and I knew I had to get it - I tell him - at night is even more beautiful.

- I can imagine… - he says - you gotta invite me sometime for dinner sometime.

- oh yeah… besides Yoongi could use a friend- I said, pointing out were the hybrid has been this whole time.

My eyes instantly turning back to Yoongi, he seemed to be lost in thought looking around the room and touching everything. Anything i learned about snake hybrids is their sensitivity towards certain fabrics, their dopamine levels rise up around comfortable fabrics. Yoongi looked the happiest naked in a nest of velvet covers at the clinic, i still remember the day i wore a pencil black skirt with said fabric and he couldn’t stop touching it. With his words: it scratched a part of his brain he never knew. It was like giving catnip to a cat for the first time, for that reason i had to pick all the house furnitures very carefully. I can’t have a overstimulated snake hybrid walking around the apartment.

- what do you think? - I ask him, walking towards him - I change some things around for you and I also did some research for your room.

He didn’t answer at first, eyes shined brighter taking in every part of the room before focusing on me. He still wore the clinic uniform and it was hard to believe he was mine like that, i was eager to see him in the clothes I bought for him. I wanted for him to experience all of the world, things he was never able to before.

He was still probably processing everything that was going on in that moment, i knew for a fact that it would take some time for him to adapt fully to this new environment. He has a lot to learn.

- this all is just for us? - he softly asked, as if not believing - just us?

- yes, just you and me - I assured him, taking his hand in mine running my thumb over his knuckles - is our home.

He smiled, looking down to hide the soft shade of pink on his checks. Not being able to hold much longer I close my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug which he immediately fell into. Holding into me just as tight and almost tripping us over.

A sight of relief left my lips, he was finally free and he trusted me enough to be here with me. One thing about our clinic adoption process is mutuality, it has so many layers but the most important one is how both the hybrid and potential owners feel about each other. Once you apply for adoption, two meetings are required. One with the director and doctors of the hybrid and one with the hybrid, that way both parts get to know each other better. Not every clinic works this way, but now that Jin was fully in control of the clinic he made sure all the procedures regarding the hybrid’s adoption were done correctly and with much care.

Letting go of Yoongi slowly I pull him by the hand to the other side of the room, towards the kitchen.

- let’s continue the tour.. - I said, as the two fallow me.

I show him and Jin around the house properly, starting with the kitchen on the right side of the apartment, the dining table was what separated the living room from it, highlighted by the chandelier above the round dining table.

The laundry room was close to the kitchen, everything here was simple and neat. I didn’t try to get any extravagant items or forniture it hasn’t been long since I moved here anyway, and i wasn’t really a fan of colorful and expensive things. The apartment was minimalist but comfortable, although the apartment did came with a billiard table from the last owner.

On the left side of the apartment was where our rooms were in a small corridor after the space where the billiard table had been placed, in a place like this usually people would put a piano there but i was sure the last owner was a men. Who would leave a billiard table behind and put it in there?

- don’t tell me you got that? - Jin asked pointing out the said table, a tone of mischief on his voice as he stared at me with a grin.

- it came with the apartment… those things are expensive and as much as I’m the best when it comes to this game, I wouldn’t buy a pool table Jinnie - i said, the three of us stopped in front of the table.

- yeah, you wouldn’t…. But now you definitely need to envite me for dinner - he said, walking around the table.

- said the guy that literally has his own play ground at home - i tease.

- but i dont have you to lose to me there - he teased back.

- don’t go there… you know i never lose - i said.

We would continue on arguing jokingly, but i felt Yoongi pulling on my hand turning me fully towards him.

- what’s this game thing? - he asked, almost innocently but i saw how he would look behind me at Jin earning a chuckle from him.

They are brothers. And i was here thinking - more like hoping, praying for the gods - that his jealousy would disappear once he finds that out, but now both males keep getting on my nerves with that. Jin knows how possessive Yoongi gets and he teases his brother in every chance he gets, using that against him and then Yoongi does the same thing and so on i have to stand between the two as they carry on arguing about who’s the best and the list goes on. To think they both are adults.

- is a fun game… i’ll teach you when we are alone - i tell him, which earned me a smirk from the hybrid. I feared the game was his least priority once we’re alone.

With that i carry on the little tour on the last rooms of the house, first showing Yoongis room which was in front of mine. I made sure to get him a spacious bed with his favorite covers, the silk and velvet were a dream to sleep on he wasn’t wrong about that. So much i got those for my room as well.

- this is your room - I tell him, opening the door for him to enter - I made sure to make is as comfortable as possible but if there is anything you would like to add or change you can just tell me.

He stood in front of the king size bed, eyes roaming around every corner of the room attentively. I didn’t add much decoration for his room, not knowing what he would like i thought it would be better if he choose what he wants.

I watched him carefully wanting to catch all of his expressions, sharing a look with Jin who seemed to be just as excited as i was in that moment i could swear i saw tears under his eyes.

And i understand him, he was watching as his brother finally got a home of his own. Despite everything he got his brother the freedom he always deserved.

- I like it… - Yoongi said sitting over the bed.

I exchanged a smile with Jin, chuckling as the he turned to wipe the tears off his face and so on I continued with the last part of the tour.

[…]

…. 3 days later ….

I had made the decision to take a few weeks off from work to focus fully on accommodating Yoongi at home, it was something new for the both of us and I was so nervous at the beginning i didn’t get any sleep the first night but now that three days have gone by I felt like my nervousness was all for nothing.

Yoongi was adapting so well it was almost as if he had lived here his whole life, he learned so fast and without even asking for help. It was like watching a drama unfold right in front of me, I was there insisting on helping him at every second but all it took was one glance and he managed everything by himself, I thought the first days with him being in the same space as me would be the hardest ones but it was truly so peaceful. I was worried over nothing when it came to Yoongi, three days out of the clinic and he already learned how to cook.

Three days again before Jin left ha and i had made the decision to stop giving Yoongi suppressants, now that he’s in a safer space having his own space helps ease the situation for his heat. It would take some time for it to come back so i would have enough time to prepare myself for it, the two of us haven’t really talked about it yet. None of us mentioned what happened at the clinic and i was too nervous to say anything now, busying myself with his adaptation here trying to get away with it. We needed to talk about that, i knew that, but things weren’t as easy. We were so different from each other deep down i was just afraid I wouldn’t be able to give him what needed.

Before anything three days ago Jin and I had a talk with Yoongi about all his protocols from now, he agreed on the stop of the suppressants and for the future exams and check ups it would only be needed to take twice a year every six months, to ensure his health is good.

Everything aside, I couldn’t lie even if I wanted to.

For the first time in my life I was waking up in the morning every day for more then just doing my duties, I had reason to wake up with a smile on my face every morning knowing I would see him there.

The past days Yoongi created a routine of his own, he would usually wake up before me and make us coffee. Stand behind the kitchen counter while he stared at the window wall as the sunlight shined through, making the entire room look like a golden dream.

Every morning my heart was filled with so much happiness, just the sight of him made any worries disappear completely and today it wasn’t any different.

I made my way to the kitchen while closing my sleeping robe, fallowing the sweet scent of hot coffee.

- morning… - I said, gaining his attention as i entered the kitchen.

I walked around the counter where he stood, eyes locked on his as he put the mug down closing his arms around my body in a tight hug. The smell of coffee filled the entire apartment deliciously.

- morning… - he mumbled raspy over my ear, moving just enough to plant a kiss over my lips. Quick and soft.

- how did you sleep last night? - I ask him.

I watched as his features immediately changed into a bitter one as soon as the words left my lips, I knew exactly what was coming after that but the way he scrunched his nose was so cute I couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped my lips, which I immediately tried to hide the moment he tried to move away from me. Immediately holding his waist tighter pushing him against the counter.

- awfully…. So terribly uncomfortable I nearly had any sleep and is all your fault - he said, hands falling over mines.

- I know, I know… - i blinked cutely, fallowing his face at every turn he made to avoid my gaze.

- no, im not taking it anymore… - he said, a pout forming on his lips and I had bit my own lip to hold back another mischievous giggle.

He’s been acting so cute lately it was making so hard for me to resist, it was like the old grumpy snake hybrid I once knew was gone and was replaced by a cute pouty snake hybrid.

- i’m so sorry my pookie… - i watched as his ears immediately turned red over the nickname i gave him, even the slightest and most innocent nickname was enough to make him turn red and hide his face shyly. I was at the point of bursting watching him.

- no… i’m not your… whatever that is you said - he turned away to the side, his scales shined like golden petals over the sunrise coming through the window.

- all of this because I didn’t let you sleep with me? I thought you liked your own room.

- I do… but I thought that now that we are both alone here, you wouldn’t be away from me - he turned back, staring down at my eyes.

- we’ve been through this already…

The truth is that ever since we’ve been here, we only went as far as a few kisses on the couch while we cuddled. Our nights just as our morning were spent completely stick together on the couch, the tv would play some aleatory movie the we never payed much attention to honestly.

He would usually fall asleep over me while I run my fingers through his hair not so long after i would fall asleep, until one of us wakes up hungry and the kitchen becomes a playground for the curious snake hybrid.

- I just want you to have some space to figure things out, especially now that you’re clean from suppressants it could be a bit overwhelming and I don’t want you to have a hard time - I tell him, running my hands over his waist down his hips.

- you care too much for me - he says, finally giving in and smiling softly.

- always - I said, leaning towards his chest to plant a quick kiss the the exposed skin.

- don’t think you’re free from this discussion… - he said, voice sounding much lower this time.

I looked up at his eyes our faces bearly centimeters away, noses brushing softly against each other.

- what discussion? - I pushed innocently, making him scoff over my lips.

- you’re gonna make me lose scales, y/n.

I felt his smile grow the moment i closed the distance between our lips, warmth rising up all over my body the second his hands traveled over my back up and down, softly scratching over the fabric of my robe.

Until the growling of my stomach interrupted us.

- what are hiding in there? - He teased poking my belly and my cheeks burned shyly like wild fire.

- funny… - I dry laughed makings the snake chuckle even more.

- well let’s give it some food before you eat me for breakfast - he teased.

I hit his shoulder playfully and we begin with our morning routine, making some breakfast for the both of us while he seats there watching me.

… 6pm …

We’ve been entangled on the couch the past two hours, binge watching a new drama. Earlier Yoongi decided to spent almost two hours in the bathtub, he used three bottles of bubble bath and made a mess all over his bathroom saying it was my fault for not letting him shower with me. But in the end he cleaned up his mess so i wasn’t mad about it anymore, craving popcorn i was ready to make some butter popcorn when Yoongi said he would made them for me and I shouldn’t have left him alone in the kitchen to pick a movie. He managed to burn it and almost set the fire alarm of the apartment, i was speechless. But i just couldn’t get angry at him, he looked so devastated after burning the popcorn he had the biggest pout on his lips.

I took the charge of making the popcorn again and told him to wait in the living room but he stayed and said he would watch me so he could learn, I thought nothing of it and just continue my business to focus to notice the snake hybrid sliding closer the moment i turned to place the now done popcorn into a bowl.

A gasp leaving my lips in instant surprise the moment the snake holds me from behind, i giggle feeling he sink his face a the curve of my neck. He’s been doing that a lot lately finding amusement on catching me off guard just to tease on my weak spot, i held on his arms turning my face toward his kissing the tip of his nose. He smiled holding me tighter.

Yoongi has been gaining some weight since he left the clinic and i was trying to keep my composure at how fast he was getting stronger, he wasn’t the small snake hybrid left to die at the clinic anymore. Yoongi was growing muscles and eating better then he was before, he looked much healthier now and i was happy for him.

I leaned against his chest, feeling the woody scent surrounding us. After three bottles of bubble bath he at least gonna smell nice for days now. I chuckled at the thought turning to face him, never letting his touch slide off my body he smirked at me.

- is this… - i leaned closer to his face, smelling alcohol on his lips - is this whiskey?

- is that what it is? - he asked, innocently.

In that moment i was hit by a wave of shock, i was completely at loss for words, looking closer at him i realized he was fully drunk. Cheeks red and eyes bearly open not to forget the smell of whiskey on his breath. Just when did he drink so much? I turned my back for three seconds?

I wanted to curse myself for being such an alcoholic in that moment, maybe i should’ve hidden my supply of alcohol in my room and not right beside the pool table. What was i even thinking? Yoongi is free now and just like a kid, of course he’s gonna take a taste of everything new to him.

- how much did you drink? - i asked, worried. This was the first time I heard of a hybrid drinking alcohol, god knows what kind of side effects that could have on him.

- a cup? I dont really know - he mumble.

- a cup? Shit… how did you drink that? - i was so utterly worried.

- with my mouth? - he said, sarcasm dripping down his lips like the whiskey in his breath.

- no way Sherlock…. - i held my temples leaning away from him. Just what am i gonna do with a drunken snake hybrid now?

- why? Was i suppose to drink from yours….? - he chuckled drunkenly, making me look up at him with red cheeks.

This kind of side effects is what i was trying to avoid.

- you… - i didn’t even knew what to say, he just stood there laughing as if this was the funniest thing to him.

And for that small moment i laughed with him, i don’t think ive ever seen him this happy. Gummies out at how big he was smiling, chest moving up and down faster he could bearly hold himself up while laughing. Jin is gonna love this.

- okay dunk boy, eat - i shove some popcorn on his mouth - i need you less drunk now.

He nodded while eating. I took the bowl of popcorn with me in one hand and the snake hybrid with the other to the living room, the movie was playing on the TV but failed to catch my attention. As i put the popcorn on the coffee table i made a small run for the bar beside the pool table, looking over the bottles i found one still opened and in that moment i wanted to kill Yoongi - he drunk half a bottle of jack.

- you drunk half a bottle! - i gasped, turning to him.

He sat on the couch legs crossed with my bowl of popcorn watching me as if i was the crazy one.

- you have so many…. - he mumbled, throwing one popcorn on his mouth - also i wasn’t gonna drink much… but it was so weak, i had few more gulps.

Weak.

Half a bottle of jack was weak for him.

- this movie sucks… - he said, getting up.

- what?

My mind was failing to comprehend anything that was happening right now. Maybe i should call Jin.

- I’m calling your brother… - i said, making a turn to go on my room get my phone.

Before i could take even a single step towards my room i was pulled by the hand and turned towards the snake hybrid, he had a drunken smile on his lips while he looked down at me. Mischief shined through his dark eyes like never before - note to self: hide all the alcohol under my bed.

- lets play instead… - he suggested looking over the billiard table - if you win against me, you call Jin.

I scoffed.

- and supposedly if i don’t? - i said, closing my arms over my chest.

- i get to decide that later…. - he said.

- careful Yoongi…. - i warned - you learned this only yesterday.

- but i learned from you - he teased back.

- and i never lose…. - i said taking one cue stick, smothing the tip with the chalk.

This was going to be quick.

- who starts? - i asked, watching Yoongi fallow my moves getting a cue stick and smothing the tip with chalk.

- you start… pookie - he said.

I chuckled at the nickname. This snake hybrid has no idea was coming.

I position myself over the table aiming at the white ball, striking it quick at the color balls i put two whites on the wholes. A confident smirk rising up to my lips.

- sorry… looks like I’m wining already - i tease, walking around the table eyes looking straight into his.

If he was nervous or not i didn’t know he seemed to be focused on me only, but I couldn’t blame him. I was gonna win this in no time.

I position myself once again aiming for a ball closer to a corner whole and in the corner of my eye i notice Yoongi moving to the other side, now focusing back at my aim the cue stick slides between my fingers and just as I’m about to strike Yoongi corners me from behind hands over my hips making me lose completely my chance.

I scoffed turning to look at the sly snake behind me.

- ops… you missed that one - he smirked, pointing at my missed move.

- i wonder why?

- maybe you’re not that good after all…. - he mumbles, walking around the table to strike his move.

I wasn’t expecting him to get it on the first try and that was my mistake, he did learned from me after all.

He gets four balls in without missing after that, I swallowed hard feeling my pride hurt bit by bit. He just learned that how is he doing it as if he was born in a billiard table, i couldn’t believe it..

When he strikes another one I’m already moving towards the mini bar besides the tale, filling myself a cup and drinking all in one gulp. When I turn back Yoongi is watching me with a cunning smirk.

This sly snake was getting on my nerves - i never lose.

- is hot out of a sudden, don’t you think? - i say, playful. He stared the game going dirty and so will i.

Opening the bottoms of my blouse one by one I quickly take it off, keeping on the white crop top i wore to sleep. Putting my hair to the side to expose more of my shoulders.

- aren’t you gonna play? - i press, smiling innocently.

There was another minute he didn’t move, eyes staring me up and down while he licked over his bottom lip. He cleared his throat before positioning himself to strike, but just as i expected he missed.

- ops… - it was my turn to tease, positioning myself right beside him in strike my move.

Once i get my hands on to strike i never miss a single ball, i grew up playing this no one can beat me at my game. Right now i was almost finish, glancing up at Yoongi every now and then i notice he was starting to grow nervous. I wasn’t gonna call Jin anymore, after the first cup i drank another and another cup. I wasn’t weak for drinks, but i was having so much fun with Yoongi now i had long forgotten why i was even going to call Jin.

Two more balls in and i would win, so I position myself to strike the last colorful ball of mines.

- i could mate with you over this table…. - Yoongi mumbled more to himself but i heard exactly what he said.

It made me lose completely my chance to strike.

- maybe i should do that when i win this game - he looked up at me, smirk dancing in the corners of his lip placing the cue stick over the table.

He walked around the table towards me, like i was his prey in that moment and he was ready to take me as his victim. Yoongis words were like his poison, infiltrating my mind with thoughts I wouldn’t ever consider myself.

Like him bending me over this billiard table right now and doing everything he wants. Maybe I should let him win this time.

Once he was right there in front of me, he took the cue stick of my hand and placed over the table. Pushing me against the table with his body he rested his forehead over mine, hands falling over my hips he drew small circles with his thumbs.

- you win… - he whispered - but don’t call my brother, i feel like throwing up.

- that’s not because of Jin - i chuckled - you drank too much, come on… lets get you some meds pookie.

I caressed his face softly before taking his hand in mine to guide him back to the kitchen, my guess was that hybrids were much weaker for alcohol and it affected them much faster then for us humans. So i was quick to him some medicine before taking him with me to the couch and let him rest some more till he sober up.

It didn’t took him much longer before he was back at being his usual cute self and i finally found a movie to pass time, the popcorn was cold now but i still ate half of it.

The bowl of popcorn half empty sat on the small table in front of the couch, Yoongi was half asleep between my legs while I run my fingers thought his hair caressing the back of his neck every now and then.

I had a mind full of thoughts about today, i was sure that his het would start soon and after tonight that thought was rotted inside my head. Maybe the mention of mating tonight set that alarm in my head and I remember all what i was preparing myself for.

- you should tell me when you feel your heat coming - I tell him, quietly.

- what if I don’t? - he teased, lifting his head from my belly watching me attentively with a tired smirk over his pink lips.

- I’ll just found out on my own then - i shrugged.

- like you did before? - he chuckled.

- hey!

- for someone who knows so much about us it took you so long to find out i was in heat - he said.

- only because you were the first snake hybrid on my care - I explained - and you lied to me about it, remember?

- yeah… but I didn’t lied about yours - he says, eyes suddenly turning darker.

- well, I’m not… I mean, now… - I stumbled on my words, it felt so weird trying to explain him how different it happens for humans especially since is different from woman to men.

- I know, I can smell on your skin… - he said, making the curiosity go wild on my head.

- how? What does it smell like? - I ask - I truly can’t tell.

- humm… - he purrs lowly, supporting his hands at both sides of my head to pull himself up.

He leans down burring his face on my neck, taking a deep breath in.

- when your in heat, you smell like… lust - he whispers - and when you’re not, you smell like…

He moves away slowly, looking into my eyes eyebrows furred in concentration as if looking for the right words, lips half open over mine, the more seconds that went by the more he seemed to get lost in a maze.

- warmth… - he whispered - it makes me want to be completely stuck around your arms and never leave.

[…]

… 2 days later …

I could tell his heat was getting closer to a start after the two days that went by. Yoongi became insanely clingy the last couple days and It wouldn’t be a problem of course, but the snake hybrid simply decided to steal the keys of the apartment just so i wouldn’t leave and so far I wasn’t even able to step one foot out in the past days.

I searched the entire apartment already and I couldn’t find the damn keys, if only his behavior had stuck with the clingy part but he also became annoyingly a tease. In every sense.

His heat had already started and he could’ve taken me as his so many times, but i wasn’t ready and i kept pushing him away and not letting him sleep in my room. For that reason he’s been acting out on me ever since.

The mornings we used to share with innocent kisses and a light delicious breakfast, turned into make out sessions over the kitchen counter and nonstop teasing while i try to cook, our afternoons of binge watching dramas turned into marking and scenting sessions for him. But it was just the beginning, Yoongi could still control his rut pretty well and he used that against me every morning.

The first time he started to scent me was when everything went down hill and i knew it would only get harder for him to control it.

I trusted him to tell me when his heat begin to show so i could help him and I was confident it would take at least a few more days, that was my mistake. And again I didn’t notice the signs.

A few days ago when the weather had changed so drastically, it had been raining since late that morning. So the two of us decided to just cuddle on the couch for the rest of the day, i was usually the bigger spoon when we cuddle but the cold weather made me seek warmth on Yoongi. Not knowing what was going on with his sudden quietness i just brushed off as him being tired and held him tighter, every minute that passed I grew more sleepy from his soft caress on my back, hugging him and burning my face on the curve of his neck.

My body was just seconds before completely falling asleep when he moved, i groan against his chest in disagreement while he pulled me down with him between his legs.

He stared to softly place kisses over my cheek, down my jawline and brushing my hair away with his fingers to expose the skin of my neck. Kisses slowly fading into more needy touches while the second passes and I was complete unaware of it, until soft kisses turned into deep and wet ones.

I was fully alert and ready to lean away from him, my wrist was closed to his neck placed beside his head to support me up but he was quick to stop me as if predicting what I was going to do, he held my hand towards him to pull me back.

- just a little more…. - he murmured over my ear, voice soft but low and raspy as if he was drunk - I won’t do anything… just, stay a bit more like this….

He didn’t move until every part of my body fully gave in, he took his chance in that moment and bit into the curve of my neck. Not enough to sink his poison on me, just enough to leave a red mark on my skin for days.

After that he did let me go, but things were different now that his heat has stared. I wasn’t one to complain, i loved every minute i spent under his touch. He wanted to torture me for not letting him sleep beside me, but his ways of torturing consisted only on teasing me till I can’t take it and then leaving me all flustered.

It was late a night and i was getting ready to sleep already when i decided to questioned him about his heat. The door to his room was always open, i watched him from the corridor moving side to side before entering his room.

- are you okay with you heat? Do you think is gonna get bad any time soon?

- no… I can control it right now - he said, while picking a change of clothes to shower.

- okay… - I murmured looking around his room seeing as how neat everything looked - you didn’t make a nest?

He scoffed before turning around to fully look at me.

- i would… but someone doesn’t wanna let me sleep with her - he said, making my cheeks run hot.

Before I could even let another word leave my lips he was pulling his silky shirt off, making a mess of his hair and exposing all his torso to my eyes.

It was not something new to me but it always made me go insane how beautiful he looked, every time it felt like i was seeing him for the first time. His scales looked much healthier and shiny now, i notice how they seemed to have grown even more towards his v line. Shiny lines almost unnoticeable at how delicate they were on his milky skin, making he look like a diamond.

- wanna watch me undress? - he teased.

- is my house - I said back, eyes rooming every centimeter of his body shamelessly making him chuckle.

He walked towards me quickly closing the distance between us two, using his own body to push me against the wall.

Just like that all the air was gone from my lungs, the heat radiating from his body so intensely it felt like a warm blanket surrounded me. And again those dark glossy eyes were focus on mine like they used to at the clinic, making chills run wild down my spine.

Every part of my skin knew his touch so well and urged for him.

- I need my keys - I blurted nervously, finally remembering the reason why I came here.

- no… - he said.

- please Yoongi, I can’t be stuck here anymore… - I plead, finding the courage to look up into his intense eyes filled with darkness.

He didn’t say anything at first, the snake switched looks between my eyes and lips in that moment. Maybe calculating his options? Or just thinking about how he’ll tease me later for it.

- let me sleep with you from now on and I’ll tell you where they are - he said, a smirk filling his lips teasingly.

I took a deep breath before deciding on what to do, it had to happen sooner or later. I knew that. I just wished I could’ve prepared myself more for what was to come the moment i decided to let him in, the two of us kept saying it was all just for sleep but deep down it was obvious. The moment we are alone over that bed we wont be sleeping anymore.

- okay.

I needed the keys and in that moment I had no idea where that would even lead me, he said he had his heat under control and o trusted that. But far way in my mind something keeps telling me he was far away from any control.

- keys? - I asked, making his smile grow even more.

- my back pocket - he said, as if it wasn’t anything.

- no way… - i was not believing but he just shrugged at me still smirking - it was with you this whole time?

- put your hands inside it if you don’t believe me - he dared.

I swallowed hard blinking a hundred times - his back pocket, he meant his ass my keys were in his ass this whole time - before slowly moving my left hand towards his back pocket, face burning like a damn volcano about to explode. I couldn’t even look at his face in that moment, he knew exactly what he was doing.

I bit my bottom lip the second my hand slide down his ass, feeling the skin over the thin layer of his silky pants. Sucking in a breath as my eyes looked anywhere but the snake hybrid in front of me.

- oh… - i exale, looking straight back at him. It was empty.

He smirk grew wider, leaning even closer to me.

- wrong pocket.. - he whispered over my lips.

I swallowed hard again, looking down between us too nervous to stare into his dark glossy eyes but inhaling fast at the sight of his deep v line covered in scales so close to me.

No, i used to treat his wounds. I shouldn’t be nervous right now. This is nothing.

Body burning in nerves I reach for the other pocket with my right hand, feeling his minty breath brush against my face teasingly. Sliding my hand one more time down his ass, reaching inside his pocket.

He leaned closer making my attention go back to his face, this time he looked as nervous as I was. Eyes bearly open, bottom lip caged between his teeth.

The more my hand moved down his bum the harder he bit into the flash and just then I felt the cold metal of the keys and quickly grabbed them.

His expression changed fast after that, leaning away from me as quick as he could.

- we’ll sleep in your room… - he said, before turning away to leave for the bathroom.

[…]

After a long bath I went to check on Yoongi to see if he was still in his room but i didn’t find him there, going straight back to my own room while i tried to massage away the pain on my neck only to find the snake hybrid shirtless all spread over my bed.

- where your clothes? - I asked.

- don’t look at me like that…. - he said sitting up - everything felt itchy on my scales.

- oh…. Should I take a look at them for you? - I said making my way towards him, when my thumb pressed a painful spot on my neck i groan out in discomfort.

- no is fine… - he slides towards the end of the bed were I stood - what’s with your neck?

- I don’t know, i think I’ve slept in a bad position last night it’s hurting a lot now…. - I say - are you sure you’re fine? I can….

- I’m fine, come here - he interrupted me, pulling me by the hand making me straddle his waist.

- Yoongi….

- shh… - he smiled softly, pulling the hair away from my neck - let me take care of you, hum?

I blink nodding, watching his attention drift to my shoulder as he pulls the shirt slightly down to expose more of my neck. He begins to carefully press at the curve of my neck with his fingers, my body was immediately filled by relief as he worked his way around my neck and shoulder.

- I can feel some tension here… - he murmured pressing a bit harder at the curve, and my eyes rolled back in relief.

He chuckled lowly at my reaction, holding my hair away with his free hand to continue his work.

- if you had been sleeping with me you wouldn’t be sore like this… - he teased.

It was my turn to chuckle.

- lies… - I said, staring into his eyes.

He looked back with the same amount of dirtiness on his mind and I decided it was my turn to make him red.

- where’s my nest? - I asked, holding myself from bursting out laughing the second he catch what i said.

He looked extremely worried and embarrassed, almost chocking at his own words.

- oh my god…. - I laughed out, closing my arms around his neck - sorry pookie… I was just teasing.

I kissed his forehead.

- I’ll wait for you to make one for us… - I whispered to him.

- I thought you didn’t like them… - he confessed.

- what do you mean? I like it - I assure him, caressing the back of his neck. Resting my forehead on his.

In just seconds he had me pulled against him and turned us over the bed, hovering over me between my legs. A gasp had left my lips at the sudden movement, holding into him tighter until his eyes opened again staring down at mine in complete lust.

I didn’t expected him to act so quickly after asking for a nest jokingly, it was stupid of me.

He got up lazily eyes still glued in mine, I watch as he made his way towards the closet getting back with three more covers.

He was going to make a nest for me.

He dropped them at my feet before taking one at the time and laying them around me until he was satisfied with it, he had a focused expression on his soft features and then when he was finally done he looked me up before saying anything.

- I wanted this ever since I first saw you at the clinic… - he said, hovering over my body slowly - I want you for the rest of my life, y/n.

Staring into his glossy dark eyes once again, I’ve never felt more out of breath. Every moment with him had been so intense lately, as if all the cells in my body were anticipating this moment knowing what would happen, urging it to happen.

- bite me… - he whispered over my lips - like you did last time.

It was different than last time, at that time us being together was completely forbidden but now we are free, we have each other.

Pulling him closer I kissed his lips, not taking any more seconds. Groaning into his mouth every time his skin came in touch with mine, feeling shivers burning down my body never failing to drive me insane.

I was so high already and we had just stared, trailing my fingers down his back and earning a few groans from him. He bit into my bottom lip, leaning away just enough to stare into my eyes.

There was a different glow around him this time, something I haven’t seen before.

His chest moved against mine, hands sliding up and down my sides each time heavier and sometimes scratching over the layers of my clothes, teasing us both by dragging his own need to touch my skin.

The cold tip of his nose delicately moving against the side of my face, his hot breath slowly seeping through his lips over mine. The minty scent from his tongue danced over my lips deliciously but he didn’t do anything. He continued his soft tease, waiting for me to make his wish come true.

I slowly started to feel his back muscles, softly touching over the scales on his body. They felt so soft to touch just like the velvet we were surrounded by, each time I caressed them softly I would feel Yoongi swift over me slightly. His scales were one of his very sweet spots and he continued to squirm and sigh over me at every little touch, making me grow confident and needier.

He was starting to pant against my neck, groaning lowly making the need in me to tease and play him grow more and more. Remembering his little trick with my keys earlier, I let my hands travel down his spine and past his hips. The moment my hands slipped down his ass he squirmed harder, body falling completely over mine and a groan escaped his lips.

In that moment I bit into his shoulder, my teeth and tongue sliding over his skin sinking into his flesh harder just to licking over it. Carving a mark of my own on him.

- mine… - I whisper breathlessly over his ear.

- fuck… - he moaned over my neck, lifting himself enough to stare at my face.

He was biting his own lip, bruising himself enough to draw blood out of it. If it wasn’t now I would be worried for him but, he looked so handsome in such state of lust. I was completely lost in him, capturing his lips in a lustful kiss.

This time his hands had no mercy over my skin and i was completely sure I would find a few bruises here and there but I couldn��t care any less for it, I wanted them and I wanted him.

- mate with me… - he whispered over my lips completely out of breath - be mine y/n… I wanna do this with you, y/n.

I softly caressed his cheeks before nodding, he smiled before leaning down again leaving a long peck on my lips trailing down my jawline and towards my ear, bitting softly at my neck.

I knew what would come for me in that moment, it was a one way trip with no way back.

- make me yours… - I whispered in his ear.

Feeling the harsh bite over the skin under my ear, he sank his poison into it. The feeling was immediate, the first time the snake hybrid had bitten me was so painful and his poison was sickening but tonight it was completely different, I’ve never felt so high before like this before. Completely drunk on him so much even the smallest touch was enough to make me squirm and moan, just looking at him made me drool and needy.

He smirked knowingly traveling his kisses down my chest, hands sliding past my waist and stoping on my hips to grip into the flesh before sliding up inside my shirt.

Ripping off the fabric of my body with his hands, I breathed out lost in his arms. At the same time he was rough his touch was full of love on my skin, every part of me he gripped into he left a kiss over it.

He stares into my eyes with fondness, fingers running along my face pulling my up by the waist with his other hand, that way I’m sitting up with him on his knees between my legs.

I take the chance to run my fingers over his sides, feeling the scales under the tips of my fingers.

He cups my face kissing my lips hungrier, growling over my tongue. His raven hair is mess now, sweat drips down his neck and my fingers as I grip at his locks.

Bringing him closer I bite into his neck again, Yoongi gasp holding waist tighter and probably bruising the skin. But I couldn’t feel any pain, only the burning sensation all over my body driving my out of sense.

He stops the kiss, eyes locked over mine, seem to slightly go out of focus, a pool of stars all for me to stare into.

I push him down against the bed forcing him to lay down, slipping off my last piece of clothing before doing the same to his pants.

Crawling on all fours back to him, I watch as he stares at me in complete awe, Yoongi gulps down biting his on lip while he savor me with his eyes.

- you’re so fucking beautiful… - he murmurs. Eyes glued on me.

I chuckled at his reaction, running my fingers over his tights seeing how his dick twitches at the slightest touch before finally claiming his lips in a kiss.

He moans deeply pulling me closer.

- Mine… - he moans.

- all yours.

He pulls me by the thighs making me straddle his waist, feeling his hard dick press against my pussy deliciousy, sending us both into an overheated state.

I watch as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut biting his lip as a groan escapes his chest, finger tips rubbing over my thighs leaving marks.

The burning sensation of the pain makes me move my hips against his instinctive, Yoongi’s eyelids flutter and his head tilt back as gasps make his chest heave up and down quickly. Another growl comes out of his chest and he moves his hips forward, the waves of pleasure seeping through my whole body making me shiver and lose control over my upper body, using my hands to keep me up against his chest, feeling how he breaths deep.

My eyes fluttered open to watch his lustful eyes in complete bliss, he squirms underneath me moaning out my name.

The sound of his voice sending shiver down my body, the feeling sends butterflies through my stomach. I let out a deep moan, grinding my hips into his. He growls, digging his nails into my thighs. Then sliding them upwards gripping my boobs, my own hands covering his for support as a continue to move against him.

Yoongi pulls me back against his chest, claiming my lips into a messy kiss. Stopping my hips from moving so he could slide inside me more easily, the feeling of his cock filling me up so good was making my head pound in arousal.

Yoongi moans loudly, trembling under my hands, lips searching for mine desperately, biting into the flesh of my shoulders sinking his poison into me while he moves his hips against mine, I pull the back of his hair biting my own lip in arousal moving my hips with his.

The pleasure is almost unbearable, so good every time I close my eyes I see stars, running my fingers through his raven hair holding him tight against me.

- breathe y/n…. - he whispers against my neck, sitting up in bed with me over him.

His hands grip my hips harder, his poison on my system was sending me into a frenzy of pleasure, each time, more.

- breathe… - he continued to whisper - just like that…

Not so long into that I feel my whole body shaking on top of him, knees starting to hurt from being like that for to long, but even the pain felt insanely good in that moment. Making me crawl into him more and more, he held me tighter before turning us around once again.

Hovering over my shaky body, Yoongi gripped into my hands as he pounded into me harder, throwing my head back while my knees are shaking in weakness, I moan out his name. Felling the dizziness claiming my body as he continued to pound at an animalistic force inside me.

- yoongi…. Fuck - I moan out, as he slides one hand between our bodies working his fingers over my clit.

- Y/n… fuck cum for me - he groans over my ear, circling over my clit with his fingers ripping a deep orgasm out of me.

- Yoongi…

But he doesn’t stop, even after he fills me so deep, I feel his cum dripping down my pussy. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, claiming my lips into a messy kiss he trails down my neck, leaving marks down my chest, sucking on a nipple.

- Yoongi… too much - I moaned out breathlessly.

I couldn’t make a single thought in my head and I loved it, my legs were shaking from his fingers circling over my clit nonstop, body aches tiredly but it felt so insanely good.

Yoongi growls, forces you closer pulling my thigh with his free hand as he he worked his way down my body with his tongue, leaving wet kisses everywhere.

- fuck… - it escapes my lips once I figure out what he was planning.

How he wasn’t tired after almost fucking me into oblivion, I didn’t know, but I was so grateful.

Ending his trail over my pussy he leaves a long lick down to the bottom of it, making me instantly arch my back.

Yoongi forcibly pulls on my thighs against his shoulders, locking me completely down and starts his feast on my pussy.

- fuck, Yoongi… - I cry out name, fingers gripping his hair.

The feelings is so insanely good, I moan and mutter words uncontrollably, words that make no sense to me, but feel so good, screaming his name out loud, shit, the neighbors will definitely file a complaint against me.

The sounds he was making driving me to the absolute bottom of the hill, gripping into his hair, myself and digging my nails over my skin.

- too much… fuck - my knees were shaking again and he didn’t stop, holding me closer.

Yoongi is sucking on my clit so harshly I started to fear he might bruise it down there as well. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it my body started to convulse, the delicious sensation began again to fill me up and I’m cursing and squirting all over him.

Yoongi sits up with a groan, he touches his own face, picking up the remains of my orgasm of his face, licking his fingers as I watched him completely fucked out.

Chest rising up and down tiredly, he hovers over me, hooking his fingers behind my neck just to pull me closer resting his forehead over mine.

- fuck me… - he moaned out, making me look up at him.

- You’re crazy - I tell him breathlessly, we both chuckled.

- Please… - he plead, pulling me in to claim my lips in a desperate kiss.

Yoongi grips my waist pulling me to the side as he lays down on his, he whimpers against my lips in a sloppy kiss, hands gripping every inch of skin.

He tugs me closer to his aching cock, holding my hips firmly to move against him. The friction is insanely good.

- you smell so fucking good…. - he mumbles - please, y/n, fuck me…

He buries his face between my boobs planting kisses over them.

- fuck you’re insane, Yoongi - I moan, gripping his hair.

Yoongi whimpers pulling me tighter against him, holding my hips to make me rut against his cock. I pushed him down while fixing myself between his legs, hovering over his body a begin to plant kisses over his neck, leaving sloppy licks over his scales.

His chest started to move up and down rapidly, he purrs deeply when I wrap my hand around his cock, feeling how he throbs under my touch.

He squeezes my hips, sweet whimpers leave his lips and I watch with pleasant eyes the snake hybrid squirm in front of me as I start jerking him off quickly, making he growl my name before returning to the slow peace of before.

He whines, throwing his head back.

- is this good my Yoongi? - I tease, watching he squirms as a reaction.

- So good… oh, so good y/n - he groans, barely keeping his eyes open - please, fuck..

- What is it baby? What do you want? - I taunt moving my hand terribly slow over his cock.

- Wanna… fuck, wanna cum… - he moans, trembling when I start jerking him off quickly.

His pretty cock spits pre cum, the sounds of my hand moving around his throbbing head driving us both insane, the moment he started squirming I knew he was getting closer.

- yes, yes… y/n you’re so good - he moans, hands gripping the covers.

- Cum baby, make a mess for me.

He starts to moan my name repeatedly, bitting his own lip until his legs are shaking, cock throbbing under my fingers while leaking his cum all over himself.

I run my hand over his belly covered on his milk, spreading it on his abs before moving closer, pressing my lips against the curve of his neck.

- such a good boy… my Yoongi - I praise, leaving kisses alone his jawline.

- - that was so good… - he mumbles, closing his arms around my body in a hug.

- Humm… you are insane - I said against his chest, running my fingers over his shoulder.

- I’m yours - he state, making me look up into his eyes.

- I’m yours too - I whisper over his lips, softly claiming his between mine.

He pulled me over his chest and we cuddled together, finally letting the tiredness begin to kick and let us get some sleep.

And tomorrow I would wake up happy, knowing it would be in his arms. Forever.

Taglist: @yoongiwantsme @effielumiere @danielle143 @dragons-flare e @awanderingangel @blue-and-grey-army @crystallizedtime @fairywriter-oracle @rosquilleta @m4gg13-g @unadulteratedlyunique e @kpopmultistantrashsstuff f @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @yoongislatinagff @kimsonlyluv @slut-4-yourmom @illnevertrustmyselfagain @bangchanbabygirlx @itsskyvoltage @welcometomyworld13 @momnomnom @honsoolgloss @kimtaehussy @amariemoore @starrlo0ver r @whipwhoops s @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe e @catlove83 @tarahardcore e @liveyun @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna a @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky @watermelon2319 @mukeovernetflix @lopprhe e @acquiescence804 @locket-hrt @myspi2010 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @armydgirl l l @jaxyy219 @viankiss @shycreationdreamland @the-reas0n-is-y0u @nothingsreal420 @sckalykoko @lucis-noctiana

[sailoryooons]

Gods of the Dark | Two | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Dream god!Yoongi x f. human!reader

☾ Summary: Don’t ask for help in the dark. It’s an old tale you always heard whispered among the people of your village. But when you find yourself dragged kicking by the man you’re to marry, you have little choice but to beg for help long after the sun has set. The god who answers your pleas promises to save you, but every deal comes with a price. 

☾ Word Count: 21,443

☾ Genre: Fantasy, angst, strangers to lovers, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Sexist and patriarchal society inspired by medieval europe, a lot of world building and discussion about theories/concept of dreams, discussions of morals and ethics, world building, angst, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via arson, sexual dream sequences, depictions of oral (f. receiving), exposed bodies (in a brothel), pining, townsfolk essentially bullying reader, intense nightmare sequences, light depictions of PTSD (including memories of almost drowning/being physically attacked), explicit language, idiots who are obviously into one another being idiots, recreational drinking, topics of desire, feelings of shame, depictions of anxiety and fear, slight voyeurism, attempted murder

☾ Published: December 2, 2023

☾ A/N: It's finally here! This chapter took so long to write and I want to apologize for how long it took. The creative process can be so difficult sometimes, and I have been having a very hard year, which reflects in my writing. Thank you for sticking with me - I really hope this chapter is okay. This originally wasn't going to be as slow of a burn as it is, but this is where the story took me naturally, so I hope that's okay with everyone. I am going to be adding an extra chapter to this now to tell the story the way I want, so we will have five total chapters to this. I am already working on chapter three, and my goal is to write just this series until the next three chapters are done! Note: The sections of italics are used to indicate dream sequences for this fic - the way I use these are very specific and with intent... that's the only hint I will give you.

A huge thank you to @here2bbtstrash for being my beta reader - I give them huge beta projects with very little time to do them, and this story would not be nearly as polished or tuned as it is now without them. Also thank you to everyone who has been so encouraging and patient with me - your kind words are not lost on me and I'm thankful for you all!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Eyes in the sky crying geysers How dare I have private desires

-

First is your mother’s screaming. It’s loud enough to make you clap your hands over your ears, wincing as she drops all of the things in her hands. Second is your father storming into the house like a hurricane, an axe clutched in his hand from cutting wood in the yard. When he sees you, he blanches and takes a few steps back, raising the axe. 

“Demon,” he whispers. He reaches for your mother and pulls her behind him. “You are a demon.” 

“No, I-”

Without a warning, your father launches the axe at you. You scream, arms going up to block your face, unable to dodge the attack. There’s a loud crack as the axe hits an invisible barrier. You feel your hand fly to your open mouth, staring at the axe that’s now hewn in two on the floor. 

Silence follows the destruction of the weapon. In that silence, it occurs to you that your father has attempted to kill you, and was only stopped by whatever protection Yoongi promised you. The realization is dizzying and you stumble away from your parents a little, bumping into the wall that separates the kitchen and the entryway. 

No one says anything at first. Your mother clings to your father, trembling violently. Her hair is greyer than you remember and it looks like the last few days haven’t been kind to her. But she has always been soft and weak.

It’s your father who no longer looks the same. Always such an imposing figure in your life, he looks aged. His face is wrinkled, his hair is grey. His presence is so much smaller than you remember, once full of rage and ferocity, now just a terrified man in a doorway. 

You cannot believe this is the man you’ve spent most of your life afraid of. Where once stood a great fear of yours now stands nothing more than a shadow of a man. Weak. Afraid. Vulnerable. 

“You can’t hurt me anymore,” you say in a voice much steadier than you feel. “You can’t marry me off, you can’t make me burn my books, and you can’t hurt me anymore.”

“What kind of demon are you?”

It occurs to you that you could tell him you’re not a demon. You’re just you, with a little added protection. But the realization that they are afraid of you wakes up something ugly inside of you. Something oily, that slithers, something wicked and sharp.

You don’t have to tell them you’re not a demon. You don’t have to tell them that you are. They have come to that conclusion themselves, and it has put them beneath you. Afraid of you. You’re more powerful than you’ve ever been in this home. 

So you let them think you are. “The kind that survived Nathaniel Laudermill beating me in the woods and trying to drown me.” 

Your father straightens. “That wasn’t supposed to happen! You weren’t supposed to run and he- he wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”

“Well, he did. And he paid for it, didn’t he?” 

When you say it, you have a sneaking suspicion that Nathaniel Laudermill is dead. When your father nods feebly at your question, the knowledge slides into place. You don’t feel bad. It almost horrifies you that you don’t, but you think of the burning in your lungs, his nails against your skin, the roaring of the water. 

You’re glad Nathaniel is dead.

“What do you want from us? Money? Our lives?”

“Nothing.” You realize it’s true, suddenly stricken with wondering why you came back at all. “I want you to go about your lives, and let me do what I will.” 

Pushing off the wall, you turn around and head out the front door. You feel their eyes on you as you go, but you don’t look back.

For now, you walk out into the woods. Crickets chirp happily, growing quiet as you walk by and starting once again when you’re a distance from them. Under the shade of the trees, it’s cold. The river isn’t flooded up into the woods anymore, but the ground is soft beneath your feet, mud giving way to your steps.

It feels different when you walk through the woods this time. They aren’t as vibrant. No Tiera is lurking in the boughs of the wisteria. There’s no lake with merfolk peering at you with large, alien eyes. A world that was once so full of life and peace feels unsaturated now. Devoid of color. 

A nasty feeling creeps up on you as you walk. You look for the creatures of the wood, hoping to see their bright colors and little lives. A snake slithers away from you, but it’s just that. A snake with normal scales, in a normal bush. A rabbit rushes by, quick as lightning, a blur of fur.

None of the birds have plumes of purple feathers. There’s no trilling song that sounds like dreams spun into notes, no smell of drifting sweetness on the wind. The air is damp and cold, and it smells like fresh earth and water. But there’s nothing about it that seems as vibrant as before.

By the river, the water rushes as fast as your thoughts. You weren’t sure what to expect when you came home, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t your parents thinking you were a demon, but that isn’t the worst part. 

The worst part is that only after two weeks, your world has lost its magic. It pales in comparison to Yoongi’s world or even your imagination. You stare at the water you used to think rushed with so much promise, the waxy leaves that used to contain so many shades of green. Now they’re just leaves and the river is just water. 

A tingle presses at your neck. You turn, expecting Yoongi to be looming behind you. There’s no one there, but the feeling of awareness doesn’t go away. Frowning, you lean against the tree and stare out into the woods unseeing. 

Clove and cinnamon hang in the air. You close your eyes, inhaling. The tingle at the back of your neck feels familiar. In your mind, you feel it like a phantom touch, sliding from your neck across your shoulder, dragging down the length of your arms until there is a soft twitch in your palm. 

It’s easy to imagine Yoongi this way. But when you open your eyes, Yoongi isn’t there. The feeling doesn’t go away. But you always have that feeling out here, the something of other. Your heart flutters at the thought of the god lurking somewhere that you can’t see. 

A silly thought. You brush it away, trying not to delude yourself into fantasies that Yoongi has any interest in you beyond your deal and beyond that night in the woods where you asked for help. Yoongi’s kindness is just that, and though you dream of him often, you know the difference between your dreams and reality. 

Instead of leaving to go back to the house, you sit down on the ground. Closing your eyes, you imagine a brighter world. A more magical world. It’s easier to do this than to contend with the fact that the woods you loved so dearly are not as you remember them. 

This, at least, is familiar. Sitting in the woods for hours and imagining worlds away from yours. Now, you imagine a specific world, made up of twilight and mountains in the distance. With a wonderful castle full of rooms saturated with candlelight and books you’re learning how to read.

When your stomach growls, you’re forced to stop your imagination and get up. You feel a bit better, knowing that you can at least remember what Yoongi’s dream realm looks like. Two weeks. You have two weeks until you can go back, and until then, Yoongi expects you to study. 

Back at the house, your parents stare in silence when you enter. You hardly look at them, walking to the kitchen as though they are merely ghosts harboring the same space as you. Your movements are methodical as you make yourself lunch. When you reach for the knife to cut cheese, you feel the pointed look of your parents. 

Part of you wants to turn around and scream at them to scare them. Another part of you has divorced the idea of them as your parents already. Yet you do nothing, biting a piece of cheese as you finish plating your meal and go to your room. They say nothing. 

Sitting on your bed, you eat your meal. The world is quiet for the most part, though the muted sound of nature hums beyond your closed window. You realize there is a desk in your room stacked with books, parchment, and inkwells. 

Heart racing, you get up from your bed and cross the room. You wipe your fingers on your shirt as you pick up a note written in Yoongi’s neat scrawl. You chew your lip as you look at the swirls and dips of letters on paper, immediately intimidated at the prospect of making sense of the writing. 

You take the note with you to the bed and begin to parse the letters and sentences apart. It takes all of your concentration, going over the sounds each letter makes in your head to build a word. It’s not fast work and it isn’t easy, but after a while, you work out the first sentence. 

Do not forget to practice every day. 

A smile makes your mouth twitch, both in pride that you managed to work out the sentence and at the thought of Yoongi hunched over his desk writing you a note.  

The second sentence is trickier. Afternoon light pours through your window as you spend another fifteen minutes sounding out the letters, quietly muttering them to yourself until you’ve got full words to build the sentence.

I will be watching, so you better practice as often as you can. 

You bite your lip. It sounds like a playful threat, quietly muttered in one of Yoongi’s teasing moments. You can almost hear the soft rasp of his voice and picture the smirk that would accompany his words. You shiver before reading the final sentence. 

Sleep well, and dream as often as you can.

The desk is a nice touch. You don’t remember seeing it this morning and you wonder how it got there. Remembering Yoongi’s magic is overwhelming. You’re still unsure what the limits of his power are, if there are any at all. 

Hunched over the papers, you begin to trace letters again. It feels good to have the quill in your hand. You’re careful not to spill the ink all over the paper like you do when you’re practicing in the library - you have a limited amount of parchment here, compared to Yoongi’s endless amounts in the House of Dreams. 

It does beg the question whether he’ll drop you off more magical paper if you run out, though. 

By the time your hand is cramping too much to practice more and your head hurts, it’s evening. Your parents are locked away in their room when you come out. You can hear the soft voice of your mother go silent when they hear you enter the kitchen for food before heading out to the porch.

Twilight skies stretch above you. Sitting on the edge of the porch, you watch the world fade from purple to black. The stars begin to dot the sky, the moon making her climb upward. You grin, feeling relieved that maybe not all of your world has lost its magic. 

Perhaps it’s just the light of day you’re no longer interested in. The night is far more mysterious and alluring, calling to you as you finish your last bite of dinner. You set your plate down on the porch and hop down, feeling the soft grass beneath your bare feet.

The last time you entered the woods in the dark, you were almost killed. That memory alone makes you pause at the edge of the woods. Your mouth dries a little bit and though the urge to step into the shadow of the night is strong, the memory of Nathaniel’s hands on your hair is stronger.

You turn around quickly and walk back to the house, picking up the plate along the way. It feels shameful to be afraid of the dark woods, a sour taste in your mouth as you lock yourself in your room and crawl onto the bed. 

Closing your eyes, you try not to think about Nathaniel. His yelling haunts you, the phantom grip of his fingers pulling your hair, the way your mouth filled with water- a hooting owl disturbs your spiraling thoughts. 

You open your eyes, straining your ears, only to find silence. Just as you begin to close your eyes again, you hear the hoot once more. Turning toward the window next to your bed, you sit up and pop the latch, casting open one of the shutters. 

Above the house, the moon is a glowing coin in the sky. Everything her light touches is awash in grey. Sticking your head out of the window, you sweep your gaze back and forth, trying to look for the sound of the hooting.

As though it senses your gaze, the owl hoots again. You see it this time. A great horned owl stares at you from its perch on top of a pile of chopped wood. Its eyes are burnished gold, like two burning beacons in the night. It’s a stunning owl, all browns and whites, feathers luminous under the sheen of the moon. It moves its head in a circle, opening and closing its beak.

Then, the owl surprises you. You flinch and sit backward on your haunches as it takes flight, great wings flapping as it flies to your window and lands on the ledge. You gasp in delight. The creature is far bigger up close, its ochre eyes warm and intelligent. 

The back of your neck tingles familiarly and you smile. 

“Are you supposed to watch over me?” The owl chirps, a much higher-pitched noise than the hoot. “Hmm. I see. Do you have a name?”

The owl bobs its head from side to side in an uncanny movement. Though you’re not sure, you think it means to tell you no. “Well, what if I give you one?” The owl chirps again. “What about… Moony?” 

Fluffing its feathers, the owl shifts back and forth and lets out a hiss. You giggle, covering your mouth as the bird settles, looking at you in a way that certainly feels haughty and bothered. “Alright. What about… Dream?” Another hiss and a bob no. “Okay, well you’re making this quite difficult. What about…”

A dozen names run through your mind. You think of the owl as Yoongi’s way to watch over you at night. It makes you feel warm and far less alone than you were before. It’s nice knowing that you have a protector, someone to warn Yoongi if you’re ever in danger. Or to steer you away from your bad thoughts.

“How about Guardian?” you offer. It blinks two large eyes before chirping and bobbing its head in a circle, pleased at the name. You grin and slowly reach your hand forward. “I like it. Guardian, then.” 

Gently, the owl leans forward and lets you brush its feathers. They are silky under your touch, each plume delicate and wonderful. You can’t help but smile, stroking the owl's chest until it shuffles back and forth and gives a short hoot.

“Go on,” you urge. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll leave the window open?”

Guardian hoots in affirmation before shuffling its wings and flying off into the night. 

Laying in your back, you stare up through the open window, watching the stars go past. Slowly, you feel sleep pull at your edges, beckoning you to give in. You finally do, drifting asleep under the silver light of the moon and a blanket of stars. 

-

Yoongi sits in front of the fireplace in the library. You blink a few times, a little dazed. You don’t remember how you got here, but you know the smell of this library and you know that shadowy frame better than anything. It suddenly makes you ache to realize how much you miss it already. 

As if sensing your presence, Yoongi turns to look at you. He smirks, showing no sign of surprise at seeing you standing behind him. He gestures to the armchair next to him and you grin, quick to join him. 

Warmth leaps from the fireplace, the logs popping and crackling under the hungry, orange flames. Yoongi is dressed in a simple linen shirt and pants, his necklaces reflecting the burning light. He watches you sit down and fold your feet onto the chair. 

“Am I here? Or am I dreaming?” you ask. 

“Are both not possible?”

You think about it. “Well yes, I suppose they are. I’m dreaming but I can come here because I’m dreaming.”

“Clever girl.” Yoongi’s eyes dance as he looks you up and down. “How was your first day back?”

“Strange. I…” You chew on your lip, wrapping your arms around your legs. Suddenly, you feel more at home than you did earlier that day in the place you were raised. You think about the woods out behind your house, the alien way you felt among trees that should be familiar. “It feels as though the world doesn’t hold as much magic anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like here. It is so vibrant and beyond imagining that now that I’ve gone back… nothing compares.”

Yoongi hums. “I promise you that there is so much magic in your world. There is real magic in living that cannot be found among the imaginary.” 

You rest your chin on your knees and sigh heavily. “If only I could find it.” 

“You will.” 

Silence passes between you. It’s comfortable. You watch the dancing fire, the world fading away. Though you are acutely aware that Yoongi is staring at your side profile, you don’t squirm or feel anxiety. You simply feel peace, happy to be here. Happy to be with him.

That makes your stomach flutter. At least you’re not dreaming of him in ways you shouldn’t tonight. As soon as you think about it, you feel your cheeks heat up hotter than the flames from the fireplace. 

After a little while Yoongi sighs, drawing your attention back to him. “You should sleep.” 

“I thought I was.”

“Sort of. You’re more… dreamwalking right now. You’re not really resting.” 

“Do I have to stay here?” The question is small. You don’t meet his eyes when you ask, suddenly filled with shame that you can’t even last a day in the world you’ve known for over twenty years. “There’s nothing for me here.”

“There is. You just have to find it again.”

“I don’t know how.” 

Yoongi stands up. You look up at him and see that his expression is soft. Kind. Your heart speeds up, tongue heavy in your mouth as he slowly reaches out to you. His hand hesitates for a second, pauses in mid-air like he’s unsure, and then he touches your cheek lightly. “Trust me.” 

Before you can respond, Yoongi is walking away. The skin on your cheek tingles where his fingers were a moment before, a shiver racing up your spine. You lift your hands to touch your cheek where his fingers were moments ago. You can’t help but smile, fondness for him growing. Blooming. 

Leaning back in the chair, you close your eyes and settle into real sleep. 

-

Tap tap tap. 

You twitch your nose and roll your head to the side, sniffing. For a moment, it felt like something had been tapping your nose, almost waking you from sleep. You start to sink back into it, pulling your covers tighter as your thoughts drift… further…

Tap tap tap. 

You frown. Now you’re awake, your thoughts clawing their way to break the surface of sleep. When you finally collect yourself and register that you’re waking up, you open your eyes to reveal a face hovering inches from yours, so close that you cannot make out the features. 

A shriek rips through your room as you scramble away from the face, clutching your blanket. You slam into the wall near the window, heart hammering as you press yourself flat, trying to make yourself small. 

Taehyung falls backwards on his ass, covering his ears and giving you a ghastly expression, as though horrified to be screamed at in such a manner. Your hand clutches your chest as you realize it’s him sitting on your floor and him who had been inches from your face - tapping your nose. 

“What are you doing?” you holler at him, fisting your blankets. You suddenly feel sick, the adrenaline making your stomach turn and your head spin. Groaning, you lay on your side, squeezing your eyes shut. Colors coalesce behind your eyelids as you take deep breaths, hoping it will pass. “Are you insane?”

“Well, that is up for debate.” 

You open your eyes and glare at him. 

Taehyung sits with his long legs out in front of him, leaning back on his palms. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he grins at you, giddy. He’s dressed in a flowing white shirt with laces at the front that he’s kept open, revealing a tanned chest. His shirt is tucked into brown trousers and you spot a small chain with a charm tied through one of his belt loops.

You think you recognize the charm from one of Yoongi’s necklaces. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Visiting, obviously.”

“You can just… visit?” 

“I do what I want.” 

As the adrenaline rush fades, you slowly sit up, glaring at the man on your floor. “I doubt that. How did you get in here, anyway?” 

“Your window is open.” 

The window in question is still wide open from last night, only now, morning light streams through. The air is cool and smells of rain, the wind rushing through the trees and making them bend and dance under its guidance. A robin flits from bough to bough, singing. 

“So you came through the window?” 

“No, I came through the front door. No one else is home.” 

“Then why did you say you came through the window?”

“I didn’t. I said the window was open.” Taehyung gives you a white, square grin. You clench your teeth and resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. Though you’re pleased to see him, you’re equally as vexed by his teasing. “Anyway, I want you to show me around.”

“Show you around what?” 

He gets up from the floor, clapping his hands together to get rid of the dirt and dust before doing the same to his pants. He shrugs, giving you a cheery smile. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. I want to see what your life here was like.” 

“It wasn’t very good.”

“That’s okay. I want to see it anyway.” 

Slowly, you get out of bed. He makes room for you, walking over toward the desk where your writing practice sheets are. He flips through them, examining your work as you eye him, stretching. Your joints pop and you groan, eyes fluttering at the release of tension. 

“Why?” you ask. He looks up at you, brows raised in a question. “Why do you want to see?”

Taehyung contemplates his answer. He taps one long finger on top of your tracing. “You’re getting better.” He leans against the desk and crosses his arms, regarding you steadily. “I’ll make you a deal. Show me about your life here. Teach me about you. And I’ll tell you about me.” 

That sparks your interest. You know so little about Taehyung, even in the two weeks that you’ve lived in the House of Dreams. He is a charming mystery, someone who speaks in riddles and likes to goad you and talk about so much that you realize he talks about nothing at all. At least, not anything substantial. 

For the amount of things you know about Taehyung, like how he enjoys cinnamon in his tea or that his favorite color is green like the bottom of the lake, or how his favorite snacks are honey cakes or that music makes him cry, you also know… nothing about him. Where he comes from. Who he was before he was Yoongi’s companion in a big, lonely castle. 

Sighing, you walk up to him and extend your arm. “Deal.”

Taehyung’s hand is warm and tingles when you shake it. He grins at you, happier than ever before he drops your hand and gestures at your clothes. “Well go on,” he says. “Change out of your nighties. Unless of course, you’d like to stay in them.”

“Get out of my room and I will!”

He raises his brows. “Don’t want me to watch? How boring.” 

You don’t take his teasing to heart. You’ve already adapted to Taehyung’s jesting and prodding, learning that it’s a key part to the way that he shows his affections. For the first few days, you’d thought perhaps he didn’t like you much, but after seeing him rib Yoongi for two hours straight in the library, you realized it was good that he was teasing you.

You open the small trunk of clothes and slide on pants and a loose shirt. When you enter the main house, you find Taehyung standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his chest, looking into the woods with a frown. Tucking in your shirt, you step out onto the porch, the wood creaking underneath your weight. 

“What is it?” you ask when Taehyung doesn’t turn to greet you. His eyes are dark and there’s an expression on his face that makes you nervous. “Is there something out there?”

Instead of answering directly, he asks, “Is that where Yoongi found you?” 

Oh. Oh. Taehyung is looking at the woods where you ran off the night that your parents tried to make you marry Nathaniel. You nod and hum, trying not to think much about it as you finish tucking in the shirt and adjusting the material. 

“There’s a bad energy there,” Taehyung observes. He turns away from the woods finally and drops his hands at his side. “You should stay away from that place moving forward.”

“I didn’t exactly go in there on purpose.”

“I know.” Something flashes in his eyes. “Best not to do it again, if you can help it. You can go into the woods, just not there.” 

“Okay…” 

You wait for Taehyung to elaborate, but he doesn’t. A chill settles over your skin, the wind picking up to rustle the trees. He shrugs and grins, the dark expression gone in a flash as he gestures for you to enter back through the house and leave by way of the front door. 

Taheyung follows you, a bounce to his step as he hurries to walk next to you. You say nothing as you lead him out of the yard and toward the main road by your home that leads into town, your stomach fluttering with nervousness as you go. 

If Taehyung is confused as to why you’re not starting the story of your life at home, he doesn’t let on. He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks next to you, his feet crunching the gravel beneath his boots and the wind lifting his hair.

Studying Taehyung’s side profile, you think he looks like something from a dream. He has the kind of beauty that seems purposeful and handcrafted, each one of his features carefully designed to be the wonderful, glowing being that he is. 

You don’t know what he is, really. But you’ve made a deal and you have to deliver on your end first. 

“We live a bit away from town,” you say eventually. “My father inherited the house after his father, who was a very talented wood carver. He used to cut the trees here himself and decide which tree was perfect for what project, which is why we live almost thirty minutes from town.” 

“A wood carver is a nice talent to have.”

You nod. “He was very good. It made a good income. My father had no talent for it, though, and opened up a store instead. He sold my grandfather’s wares and then eventually added items from other folks in town, including my mother's clothes. She’s a seamstress.” 

“You were wearing a dress the night Yoongi brought you home.”

Home. Taehyung says it so easily, like he’s already accepted that the House of Dreams is yours as much as it’s his. A warm feeling blooms through you, and you look up at Taehyung and smile at him despite the looming subject of the doomed wedding dress. He returns your smile just as broadly, even if he doesn’t know the reason for your sudden turn of happiness. 

“Yeah. That was one she made,” you sigh, turning back to the road. “A wedding dress.” 

“It was beautiful, but I did burn it in the fire.” You look at him with your brows raised and he gives you a sheepish shrug. “You were assaulted in that dress. We wanted nothing to do with it.”

“I’m glad that you did. I never want to remember that night again.”

“Good. Memories have a way of haunting us, even when we don’t know it.” 

Taehyung’s tone is ominous. Instead of asking him what he means, you let his weighted silence fall around you, propelling the both of you toward the town. 

As you get closer, houses and other roads begin to pop up. You see the pathways leading up to the homes of your neighbors, pointing out each one to Taehyung along with filling him in on summaries of their family histories and gossip. He listens with a conspiratorial smirk, gasping and asking you scandalous questions as you whisper rumors you’ve long heard from eavesdropping on your parents. 

Gossiping with Taehyung is nice. You feel lighter than you had the day before, nearly skipping as you near the town proper. You start passing people on the road. Normally, you’d greet the ones you know. Now, you hear gasps as people flinch when they see you, making signs with their hands to ward off evil. 

You blink in surprise, glancing at Taehyung for his reaction. He frowns when he sees the second group of people do it. By the third, he pulls a snarling face at them, making a child cry. You jam your finger in his ribs and he hisses in pain, shoving lightly back.

“What?” he demands. “You’re not evil. That sign doesn’t do anything, either. If one of the more malevolent deities wanted to snatch them, they would.”

“Really?”

Taehyung rubs his ribs where you poked him. You pass the bakery owned by the Yen family, heavenly smells wafting out the door. “Of course they would,” he huffs. “Most deities aren’t bound by the rules and logic the mortals try to make to create a sense of safety from them. Many can simply do what they want.”

“Then why don’t they?”

“Because of Eternals, like Yoongi. The gods who are always here, never changing. That’s why they’re called Eternals.” 

“I see. There’s seven of them, right?” Taehyung hums the affirmative. As you pass a music shop, Taehyung slows. His hands are linked behind his back as he eyes the instruments through the window and gestures at them. You nod and follow him indoors, the bell on the door above chiming. “So other deities are afraid of them?”

“Of course they are,” Taehyung muses. He stops to admire a mandolin. “Yoongi, for example, is a being that creates dreams themselves. He manipulates reality. He can create things on a whim. He’s almost as powerful as life.”

“Really?”

“What are dreams if not creation? The difference isn’t all that big, though it drives Seokjin mad to admit it.”

“Who?”

Taehyung plucks the string of another instrument. You don’t know what it is, but the note is sharp, making you cringe. “Life, of course.”

“You know Life? What are you?”

He glances at you sidelong. “We’re supposed to learn about you first. I’m doing a lot of talking.”

“Not like it’s hard to get you going,” you mutter. 

Taeyung shoots you a scowl, but is interrupted by the shop owner coming around the corner. He’s a man in his late thirties, greeting Taehyung politely and wiping his hands on his trousers. He asks Taehyung if he’s looking for anything and just as Taehyung leans out of the way to reveal you standing behind him, the shop owner’s eyes go to you and he gasps, stumbling backward. 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he whispers, his back bumping into a shelf of items. You feel a shiver slip down your spine as you stare at him, arms tingling. He makes the symbol to ward off evil, the whites of his eyes wild. “Evil. Evil creature, you are a demon. You do not-”

“Another word,” Taehyung cuts in, his voice dark in a tone you’ve never heard. “And I’ll show you what evil is, sir.” 

“G-god of Light spare me.”

“Your God of Light won’t answer.” Taehyung spins on his heel, facing you. His expression is thunder, his gaze dark and eyes wild as he hisses, “Speak their name all you wish. It's not daytime in here, sir.” 

For the two weeks you’ve known Taehyung, you’ve never seen him like this. The room feels oppressive and dark, and you swear the lights have dimmed, shadows pressing up against the wall as Taehyung strides forward and passes you, taking your arm firmly in his hand.

Taehyung escorts you out of the store, walking swiftly. When you hit daylight, the oppressive dark sheds itself immediately. Taehyung’s presence dims with the sun beating down on him and turning his skin copper, black hair shining almost blue in the light.

He lets go of your arm and shoots you a troubled gaze. “Don’t listen to him,” he grunts. “You’re not a demon, nor are you evil.”

“My parents called me the same thing.” He scowls and begins pacing. To keep him moving, you start walking toward the other side of town where the old cemetery and abandoned church is. You don’t know why you go there, but you’re drawn to it. “They called me a demon.” 

“Demons are much nastier. You might be annoying, but certainly not a demon.”

You scowl and he shrugs. “I didn’t realize everyone here thought I died. I thought I would come back and it would be…”

“Normal?” You shrug a shoulder. 

The houses on the edge of town are shabbier than the rest. People hesitate in their doorways, staring at you and the tall, handsome man next to you. You see them do the warding sign as you go, and you squeeze your hands into fists as they do. 

Weeds crawl up the side of the old church. The structure leans heavily to the left, the stairs unusable and the ceiling fallen in. Instead of walking up the hazardous steps and inside the dilapidated building, you lead Taehyung around it, where the grass grows higher than your knees and the sound of grasshoppers buzzing by you follows. 

A dry-rotted fence surrounds what was once a graveyard. You walk toward it, leading Taehyung until he starts slowing down a few paces behind you. You stop and turn over your shoulder to look at him, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun. 

Taehyung looks thoughtful, dark eyes scanning the area. He’s stopped walking entirely, head cocked to the side. “Why’d you bring me here?” 

“I don’t know. I just… walked in this direction. I used to come here for the silence, sometimes.”

Taehyung has a strange look on his face. “Is that so?” 

“Why do you look like that?” 

“How long has this place been here?” 

“The church closed before I could remember. Honestly, they said it was haunted by this graveyard, which has been here a lot longer than the church. Even the oldest families in town don’t have their dead buried here. Rumor has it that it was built long before the town was.” 

Taehyung starts walking normally again. Side by side, you begin to navigate around the graveyard. “And you come here? Why?” 

“It’s quiet. When I was too young to stay at the house alone, my mom would bring me to town while she ran errands. I was allowed to explore, but I liked to come here.”

“Most kids are afraid of places of the dead.” 

You shrug. “It was quiet, and it gave me time to imagine things. I liked to make up fantasies about the old gods here or… what I imagined they might be. Of heroes descended from them, maybe.” 

“And you felt drawn here?” 

You startle when a grasshopper shoots across the grass in front of you. You laugh as it vanishes into the foliage. “Yeah, it just felt… safe.” 

“Strange.” 

“Am I allowed to ask why or are you going to complain you’re talking too much again?”  He snorts and gestures for you to continue. “Why is that strange? Beyond the fact that it’s, you know, a graveyard.” 

Sighing, Taehyung squints up at the line of trees nearby. His hand hovers along the tops of the grass as he runs it over each blade, letting the tips tickle his hands. You’re almost waist high in grass, glancing down to make sure you don’t step into any holes. 

“This place is old. The people of the church felt haunted because they were. Death owns this land.” 

You frown. “Well, the dead are here. The other graveyard doesn’t feel the same.”

“You misunderstand me. Death - the Eternal. His presence is all over. Someone important to him must be buried here.” 

“Oh.” 

You stop and think about that. Turning to look at the unmarked and lime washed tombstones, you scan for any sign of Death. You have no idea what you’re looking for. Ivy and time have taken over most of the concrete slabs, and none of the names or dates are legible by now. They’re just hewn stone, buried in green and grime. 

But you feel something here, a tingling on the back of your neck like the one you felt in the woods by your house. A chill wind blows over the land, sweeping the grass and rattling the trees. You feel the breeze against your neck, cool as fingers trailing down your spine. 

Suddenly, you feel a buzz on your skin. It’s not so different from Yoongi’s presence, and it chills you. 

You look up at Taehyung with wide, fearful eyes. He smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be afraid of Death. Death is neither good nor bad, he just is. He only takes those who are ready.” 

“Have you met - um - Death?” 

Taehyung nods. “He is a man of few words, but Namjoon is unwaveringly kind and wise.”

“Strange that I was drawn to coming here.” You head back toward the town. The sun passes its zenith and makes its way into the early afternoon. “Is this whole place filled with Eternals or what?”

“No, it’s actually a rather unremarkable location. Namjoon lingers in many places. Yoongi was simply drawn here.” 

“By what?” 

Instead of answering the question, Taehyung sticks his hands in his pockets. “Show me more of your town.” 

So you do. Taehyung is a good companion. Where Yoongi would quietly observe and make sounds to indicate that he’s listening and admires the things you’re talking about, Taehyung asks questions. You realize he’s a tactile person as well. He touches things as he walks by them, brushing his fingers on fabric, touching jewelry at vendor stands.

Everywhere you go is a similar reaction to the instrument store. People seem happy to see Taehyung at first before they see you, fear making them lean away and ward you off. You realize you don’t know how much time has passed since you vanished from the woods and returned. 

When you ask Taehyung, he shrugs and explains that time moves differently and inconsistently. It could have been a day, it could have been a week, it could have been five months. By the looks on the faces of those you pass, you think perhaps it’s been a little longer than you anticipated.

Part of you wonders what lie your parents must have told them about your death. You almost want to ask, but you don’t, anxiety stilling your tongue. You probably wouldn’t be able to get close enough to anyone to ask anyway. 

By the time the sun has sunk beyond the horizon and the moon has begun its climb, you and Taehyung stop at the tavern to eat. Your stomach rumbles as you step into the warmth of the room behind Taehyung, and you notice that the place goes quiet.

It’s subtle at first, something you don’t notice as you kick dirt off your shoes, but the hush becomes so intense that you can’t help but look up, gaze sweeping the room as everyone turns to stare at you. 

Behind the counter, the barkeep straightens. His name is Sloan - you’ve known him since you were a little girl - and he looks less than happy at your arrival.

“I know I’m pretty,” Taehyung announces loudly, tossing the hair out his eyes. “But you don’t need to stare.”

“You aren’t welcome here,” Sloan says, voice wavering like he’s unsure if he means it. “Begone, demon. We are men and women of life and light!”

You swallow thickly and look around, feeling prickly heat crawl up your neck. 

Like at the music shop, something happens to Taehyung, except this time, it’s stronger than before. The candles in the chandelier and on the tables flicker in a phantom wind and darkness pulses in the room. You feel energy rolling off of him and you swear Taehyung gets darker as he steps forward, his presence oppressive and threatening. 

There is crying and gasping in the room as he seethes. “We are not demons, and you will not disallow this woman to enter your shops, your homes, or anywhere else she wishes.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper, throat dry. 

He doesn’t seem to hear you. You swear there is thunder in the distance. Whatever power belonging to Taehyung is tenfold now that the night sky stretches over the tavern. “Refuse her service, and there will be consequences.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, snatching his sleeve. You pull his attention to you. His eyes are like two obsidian coins. There is something sharp and lupine about his face, sending your heart hammering. “Stop. This is making it worse.” 

“They should not insult you.”

“It’s fine.”

He softens a touch. “It isn’t. You are not… they do not understand you.”

“They never have. Come on, let’s just go.”

For a second, you think he might not. You don’t know what Taehyung is or what he can do. It doesn’t frighten you, though. Because whatever Taehyung is and whatever his intentions are, he’s linked to Yoongi. Yoongi would never put you in harm's way or let Taehyung near you if he was a threat.

Even after such a short period of time, you know this in your heart of hearts.

Taehyung relents and the light returns to the room. No one makes a sound, all eyes on Taehyung as he lets you pull him out of the door and into the night. You immediately feel better outside, the moon washing your skin in light and the stars watching you march into the street. 

“You can’t just threaten everyone who insults me,” you snap, though you’re not really mad at him. “They’re only going to hate me more. And they will think you’re a demon when you do that.”

“I’m far more powerful than a demon,” he sniffs primly. “And they should not insult you. You have the favor of Dream. You are -” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Well, you’re far above their station. They know nothing.”

“Far above their station,” you snort, crushing a rock under the toe of your boot. “I’m a girl who was strange when they knew me before they thought I was dead, and now they think I’m a demon walking around with her scary demon husband. Or perhaps they think you are an evil entity.” 

“Don’t make that joke around Yoongi,” Taehyung mutters, putting his hands on his hips. Before you can ask what that means, he says, “What if I took you somewhere instead, then?”

You raise your brows and look around. “Where?”

“Well not here. Somewhere familiar to me, where they won’t ostracize you.”

“We’re going to travel in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung gives you a square grin that lights up the world. “Time to learn about how we travel.”

-

You almost vomit on Taehyung’s shoes. He squeals and steps out of the way as you bend over, holding your middle as bile burns its way up your throat and splatters onto the gravel beneath you. It feels like your world is spinning and you’ve lost your center of gravity, having been pulled by something sharp in your stomach into a vortex of what felt like twisting and spinning.

It could only have lasted a second, but Taehyung has to hold you up for a moment as you gasp for air, the taste in your mouth sour and gross. You crane your face to look at him, glaring as he winces. He had given you no warning of what his travel was like or how it would feel.

You’re not looking forward to it again.

“What,” you pant, “was that?”

“Teleportation, mostly. I kind of forgot what it feels like when you’re… human. You get a little scrambled.”

The nausea makes your throat clench and unclench again. You dig your fingers into his arm as you dry heave but nothing comes up. “A little?” you rasp. The world slows its spinning and the watering feeling in your mouth that preludes puking fades. “That was awful.”

“Sorry, it’s different than portaling. That’s more stepping through the door while teleportation is like... Jumping.”

“Don’t jump me again any time soon.”

Taehyung pats your back heartily as you stand up straight. The stars swim above you in a spiraling cosmos. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, waiting as the nausea fades away and the world around you bleeds into the forefront of your attention span. 

Noise hums from in front of you. You’re standing in an alleyway, looking up at the side of a building. It looks a bit like an inn, but you can hear the clamor of a crowd and loud voices coming from inside. Each window is curtained, keeping wandering eyes and the moonlight outside. 

Taehyung leads you around to the front of the building. It’s two stories and on the first floor there’s a porch filled with chairs and gambling tables. There are men and women draped over the furniture, smoking sweet-smelling cigars and laughing loudly as they throw dice on the table. 

Women and men in various states of undress sit on the laps of the others. You feel heat crawl up your neck as you avert your eyes, looking up at the sign hanging over the building that says Desert Rose. Nervousness tingles at the back of your neck as Taehyung strolls up the steps to what you’re sure is a brothel and a gambling den, greeting people as he goes.

You’re shocked that Taehyung knows people here. You’re sure that you’re still in… your dimension, as Yoongi calls it. The people here talk with an accent that is different from what you’re used to, but you still understand the language, even while struggling to keep up with the lilt.

Eyes follow you as Taehyung leads you inside. The air is thick with perfume, smoke, and loud voices. Tables are pressed closely together, filled with people. There’s a bar at the back of the room and a small bard and band in a corner, singing a raucous song with the crowd about Lady Trown who gets around and will go down. 

“Where did you bring me?” you ask Taehyung as he guides you through the rowdy room. A woman falls over a card game laughing, her breasts spilling out of her shirt while another woman plants a kiss right on her mouth. “This place is - is -”

There are no words for it. You’ve never been somewhere that is so openly indecent and carnal in your life and yet… the colors and the sounds and the overflowing joy hit you like an arrow to the chest. You can’t help but be drawn to look at the exposed bodies before darting your gaze away, only to be drawn somewhere else out of insatiable curiosity. 

“A haven!” Taehyung offers as he leans on the bar. “Two pints of whatever!” 

You press close against him, hands shooting to his shirt as someone pushes by you. It’s a little overwhelming and you feel hot all over. Taehyung shoves a wooden tankard of amber liquid into your hands and grins, raising another to his lips before taking several swigs, liquid running down his chin and neck. 

He comes away and smacks his lips, giving you a delighted grin. “It’s awful, just the way I like it!”

You take a sip and make a face. The watered-down ale is certainly nothing like the sweet wine Yoongi likes to treat you to over dinner. Taehyung seems to know this, laughing loudly as he leads you through the crowd toward an empty table in the corner. 

Back against the wall, you take a moment to look around the room. There are card and dice games being held at multiple tables, alongside other games with rune-marked stones, cups and trinkets that you don’t recognize.

It’s wildly different from anything back home. You’ve never been to a brothel - at least, you think this place qualifies for one, based on the various states of undress and a few couples doing something that makes you avert your eyes - but this is nice. In its own loud and carnal way.

Taehyung people-watches with you. He feeds you information on the faces that he recognizes, lips curling as he gossips. He looks alive and happy, his golden skin glowing with a radiance that seems a little magical. 

“So is it my turn to ask questions?” you ask, sipping the awful beer as you look over at Taehyung. His gaze reluctantly strays away from watching a card game where you’re pretty sure the woman who is winning is cheating. “Or do I still have to talk about myself?” 

He smirks. “You can ask questions, a deal is a deal.”

“What is this place?” 

“The Desert Rose.” 

You glare. “What is this place to you?” 

Taehyung takes a sip of his ale and grins, winking at you. “A better question. This place is somewhere I used to visit when I wanted to feel alive. When I wanted to feel humanity for its raw intensity.”

“So you’re not human.” He shakes his head. His face grows a little hesitant, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. “What are you?” 

“I’m a dream.” 

You blink once. Twice. You expect Taehyung to start laughing and indicate that he was teasing you, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his chair, watching you evenly with his dark eyes. 

“What?” you finally ask.

“I’m a dream. The second ever, actually.”

You think about what you’ve observed of Taehyung. The way that he seems to draw people in, the animated manner in which he speaks. He seems to contain so many multitudes of the things you know that Yoongi enjoys, and yet so many things that press Yoongi’s buttons and rattle him. 

Taehyung is… beautiful. Enchanting. Both to look at, and to talk to. He has a carefree personality and you know he’s magical, having witnessed it in the House of Dreams in snippets but also today, when he became angry and the darkness seemed to swell around him. Not to mention his awful teleportation to wherever you are in the world now.

He is exactly the kind of person you always imagined being the lead in your fantasies. Brave and charming, handsome and adventurous. He looks like he belongs here, melding to the energy around him, fitting in perfectly.

Suddenly, the thought of Taehyung being a dream makes more sense than anything else. A being of infinite possibilities, one who can shape themselves to anyone and anything, who can sense what people want and become that very thing.

You’re not sure what the complexities of dreams are, but you understand the very basics from Yoongi: most dreams are flexible and full of infinite possibilities. It’s what makes them so real, so strong. 

“That makes a lot of sense,” you murmur. “So you’re old.”

“Very.”

“If you’re the second dream…” you trail off, thinking about how Yoongi explained how he came to existence. How life dreamed and so he was born. “Yoongi is the first. That’s why you say he is Dream - he is the first and the essence of dreams.”

“Very clever.”

“When you said you came here to feel alive, what did you mean by that?”

He sighs heavily. “Yoongi was born because Life dreamed of - well, making life. And when Yoongi was born, he was the very concept of dreaming itself. Imagination, creation, wonder, hope. It’s why creation and dreaming are so close in their nature. But still, there is a difference between lifeforms and dreams.” 

“You wanted to know what it was like to feel life?”

He nods. “Yoongi made me as his first companion. He couldn’t help it, really. He didn’t make me on purpose so much as he thought of someone to spend time with, someone to offset him. To balance him. And then there I was.” 

You chew on your lip. There is a distant look in Taehyung’s gaze. He stares at his ale, not drinking anymore. He picks at splinters in the tankard handle, the noise around the two of you a dull roar. 

“But?” you offer, sensing his hesitance. 

“But,” he agrees, nodding. “When Life created humans, I wondered what the difference was between us. I sort of looked like them and I talked like them, but I wanted to know what it was like to be them. And dreams… They are wonderful. Beautiful. But I was afraid they weren’t real, so I started to visit here. To go places. To see if life was the same as dreams.” 

“Is it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not better, it’s not worse. It’s just different. But I did learn that dreams are as real as life. Perhaps you cannot always see them and feel them depending on where you are, but anything someone dreams here is real there.” 

“That’s sort of comforting.” 

Taehyung smiles. “It is. Plus, I really enjoy people. They have an edge to them that dreams don’t.” 

Someone catches Taehyung’s attention. He turns in his seat, head craning as though he senses something. You follow his line of sight to where a young man descends the stairs leading up to the second floor. He is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, with dark, silky hair tucked behind his ears, full lips that pull into a smile as someone greets him, and sharp, dark eyes that crinkle when he laughs.

He’s beautiful. Suddenly you think that this might be what a dream truly looks like. Taehyung is all dark and shadows, but the man Taehyung watches is lightness and magic, his face so perfect that you cannot help but imagine it must be the result of someone carefully painting every feature. 

Your eyes flicker back to Taehyung when the man leans on the bar, talking to the barmaid behind the counter. Taehyung doesn’t move. You don’t even think he’s breathing. He sits in his chair, knuckles paling under the grip he has on the back of his seat, his eyes filled with such sudden longing that you have to look away. 

“Who is that?” you ask gently. Taehyung doesn’t seem to hear you. He watches and watches, wanting to look nowhere else but at the bar. “Taehyung?”

“His name is Jimin.” 

“That’s a pretty name.”

Taehyung nods. “He’s like you.”

“Like me?”

“He dreams loud enough for us to hear it. For me to hear it. I’ve been coming to this place long before he existed. A silly coincidence that he exists here, too.” 

“Fate, perhaps?” 

That makes Taehyung turn around. His expression is dark and he’s frowning. “Don’t start talking about Hoseok,” Taehyung mutters. “Lest he show up.”

You didn’t mean Yoongi’s sibling Fate, but you realize that’s who Taehyung is talking about. Your eyes drift back to where Jimin is at the bar, sipping a glass of amber liquid. As though he senses eyes on him, his gaze sweeps the bar until it lands on Taehyung, who straightens immediately. 

Jimin smiles and it’s like watching the first ray of sun break over the horizon. You can’t help but blink at his radiant beauty, completely taken aback by it as Jimin pushes off of the bar and begins heading your direction. 

Taehyung swivels in his chair, taking in a few calming breaths. You giggle and he looks up at you, giving you a pitiful smile. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand quickly. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

“You definitely are.”

Before Taehyung can hiss a rebuttal at you, Jimin sidesteps a woman and grins at Taehyung. He drags his gaze to you and startles, as though he had not realized you were there, eyes going round and mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with anyone,” Jimin says. His voice is soft and smooth, immediately comforting. “I wanted to come say hello.”

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes, blinking up at Jimin as though he is lost in starlight. Perhaps he is, you think. “Your hair is longer than the last time I saw you.”

Jimin flushes, a hand coming up to touch the ends of his hair gently. “Yeah, I thought I would grow it out.”

“It looks great.” 

For a moment, they stare at one another, Taehyung grinning with his eyes gleaming, and Jimin soft with his eyes scrunched. You look at the table, trying not to disrupt whatever spell they’re under as they peer at one another, but it seems Jimin senses your presence still. His eyes flicker to you and he raises a brow, questioning.

Taehyung fumbles to introduce you, turning and giving you a sheepish grin. You smile and stretch your hand over to shake Jimin’s. His hands are small and delicate but his grip is firm. “It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung wanted to show me this place because he enjoys the people so much - I believe that includes you.” 

Jimin smirks and shrugs a shoulder while Taehyung looks for a chair, yanking it away from someone to give Jimin a place to sit. He does, throwing Taehyung a grateful smile. “Hmm, is that so? Has he said nice things about me?”

“The nicest. In fact, the whole reason we came here is because he wanted to introduce me to the amazing Jimin.” 

Taehyung shoots you a look that tells you to shut up, but you hide your grin in your tankard as Jimin raises a brow, glancing at Taehyung. 

Watching Taehyung and Jimin is comedic and sweet. Taehyung isn’t an entirely different person around Jimin, but he becomes softer at the edges, his smiles gentler and his laughs louder. The longing in Taehyung’s gaze when he thinks Jimin isn’t looking is palpable, and even as a bystander and a friend, you feel a pang watching the two of them dance around one another. 

For his part, Jimin seems equally enthralled. He watches Taehyung with rapt attention, asking questions and touching Taehyung gently everywhere he can - the tops of Taehyung’s hands, his arm, his elbow. When Taehyung turns around to watch the table next to you topple over, you realize he’s unaware that Jimin is looking at him as though begging for Taehyung to see. 

You see. And you want. 

Never before had your parents inspired much desire for love in you. While they worked well together, you still can’t call what they had happy or loving. Functional, sure. Successful, even. But they did not look at one another the way Taehyung and Jimin seem to, and you can’t help but suddenly feel like that is something you want.

Someone to look at you when they think you’re not looking in a way that implies you are their sun and moon. Someone who smiles with such mirth at something you do or say that you can feel the heat of it. 

Jimin gets up to refill the drinks, scooping yours with a grin before vanishing in the crowd. Taehyung watches him go, craning his neck to ensure he has eyes on Jimin as he makes his way to the bar.

“Have you told him you’re in love with him?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes never leaving where Jimin is leaning over the bar to order. “There’s no point.” 

“What? Why not?”

“I’m a dream. He’s a human. We could never be something.” 

“Oh. Surely there’s a way?” 

Taehyung turns to look at you, the joy on his face slipping to be replaced with a soft sadness. He shakes his head again, picking at the splinters on the table. “I would be no good for him. We live in two different worlds… I come and go… He deserves a normal, human life. We could never be something.”

Jimin starts to head back toward the table. Taehyung shakes off the melancholy and smiles just as bright when Jimin returns, as though he wasn’t sad only a moment ago. You accept the refilled drink from Jimin with a weak smile.

Taehyung’s words cycle through your mind as the two men fall into giggling conversation, and all you can think about is a pair of dark cat eyes, a soft raspy voice, and a man who is made of dreams.

We could never be something. 

-

“I was starting to worry, you know?” 

Yoongi’s voice makes you blink. You realize you’re standing among the wisteria, the breeze carrying their sweet scent over your warm skin. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s leaning against a tree, his long hair down and dancing in the breeze. The thin white shirt he wears does little to hide the lines of his stomach and chest today, making you avert your eyes. 

“Why?” you ask, voice steadier than you feel. 

You walk toward a low-hanging vine, bringing your hands up to brush along the purple petals. You feel the tree shiver under your touch. You sense it, like it purrs, a response that is hard to explain but you innately know. 

“It took you longer than usual to fall asleep.”

“Can you not see me when I’m not asleep?”

“I could, but prying is rude. I only see you when you come to me.”

You turn to look at him sharply. He seems a little smug at that, the corners of his full lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. Your heart skips a beat for a moment before Taehyung’s words from that night play in your mind. We could never be something. 

And yet Yoongi is implying it’s you who visits him. 

You scowl and turn away from him suddenly. Yoongi makes a sound like a sigh and pushes off of the tree, his footsteps quiet as a whisper. “Have I upset you?” 

“I want to go to sleep.”

He hesitates. You cannot see his expression, but you can picture it perfectly: brows drawn together, mouth pouted slightly, head cocked.  His confusion is evident when he says, “You are asleep.”

“You know what I mean.” 

Silence, for a moment. Then, in that soft, rasping voice that you know so well, he murmurs, “Goodnight, then.” 

-

Silence greets you when you wake up the next morning. Your home is still empty - you have not seen either of your parents since you arrived the night before. Either you’re coming and going at hours they’re not around or they’re avoiding you. The latter is most likely, and you certainly don’t mind. 

Your day goes similarly to the day before. This time, when you walk through the woods, you feel a little more of a spark. You’re sure it has to do with your conversation with Taehyung, his words about dreams and reality being different but equally powerful pouring a little bit of magic back into the woods you loved so dearly.

Still, you miss the other realm and the House of Dreams, even if you’re a little embarrassed by your dream last night, recalling the way you dismissed Yoongi. 

Sitting on the ground with your back pressed against a cypress tree, you let out a heavy sigh and close your eyes, your arms hugging around your middle. You try not to think too hard about the way Yoongi looked leaning against the tree, dark eyes drinking you in. 

Yoongi occupies more than his fair share of thoughts. You hate it, the way your mind strays to him, thinking this is something Yoongi would like or Yoongi would find this funny. Only two weeks and he and Taehyung are suddenly all you know, your experiences with them painting most of your thoughts. 

Thoughts of Taehyung don’t plague you, though. 

The fluttering feeling every time you think of Yoongi has not faded with time or distance. It might be easier if he didn’t visit your dreams every night - or if you didn’t visit him in your dreams, which you don’t know how to do. 

But Taehyung’s forlorn words come drifting back to you, reminding you that there is some distinction between humans and dreams. That even for Taehyung, it cannot work. 

When you return home, your parents still aren’t there. You busy yourself with lunch and then begin practicing your letters, tracing them until your hand is cramping and your head is starting to hurt. You manage to take up most of the afternoon that way, focused solely on your studies and trying to read through your work.

Just as evening falls, Taehyung appears in the yard, hands on his hips as he looks up at your window, whistling to catch your attention. You grin when you see him, happy to have a friend, even if it’s just Taehyung. You don’t ask why Yoongi doesn’t come with him - the Eternal is busy, you’re sure - but you’re pleased to just have Taehyung. 

It becomes a routine. It’s not as thrilling as your life in the House of Dreams, but it isn’t as terrible as you thought it would be. The few times that you do see your parents, they glare at you as though you have become something evil in their house, lurking and stealing their joy. 

You say nothing to them and they stay away from you. 

It’s the same in town. You only visit with Taehyung, otherwise you are too afraid to go on your own. The villagers say nothing when they see the two of you walking around and visiting the old church, but they glare and you catch them doing the signs to ward off evil as you pass by. 

Still, Taehyung makes it worth it. He visits you nightly, whisking you away to the Desert Rose, which has become a refuge for you. You’re no better at teleporting, but you manage not to vomit on his shoes each time you do it. 

Tonight, the energy is thrumming at the Desert Rose. Your gaze lingers longer on those around you and you even introduce yourself to the people that Taehyung is familiar with. Though Taehyung opts to play a game of dice, you do not. You’re content to watch, standing over his shoulder with your arms crossed over your chest.

You feel… alive. Just like Taehyung described when he started coming here. It’s so different from your life before, and after over a week of being around people who seem to spill over with joy without restraint, you feel yourself loosening up. Becoming something a little different. Someone who wants. Someone who wants openly. 

You think about Yoongi. Once he’d told you that he wasn’t just Eternal of dreams. He also has power over desire, and he believes in indulgence. He wants to teach you to indulge more. It suddenly makes all the more sense that Taehyung likes it here. He’s someone who dives in head first to things, taking any bet someone throws his way and snatching drinks off of passing trays. 

Even his desire for Jimin is open and obvious, though you’re sure Taehyung doesn’t know that. 

It’s a lovely night. You feel warm all over, the drink getting to you as you guzzle down the remainder of your cider, which you favor far more than the ale. Jimin clambors onto the table, a cup in hand as he starts yelling the words to the song the band is playing in the corner. 

Taehyung begins to slam his wooden cup on the table in time with the beat, yelling the words and standing up as the room joins in, stamping their feet and slamming on tables. You don’t know the words but you laugh loudly, slamming your palms against the top of the table. They sting with the force of your slap, but it feels good. 

You feel good. Happy. Drunk. A little dizzy as the table wobbles and you dive out of the way as Jimin comes tumbling down. It doesn’t stop you from taking a shower of beer from Jimin’s cup, dousing you in warm liquid as you shriek and laugh. 

Taehyung catches Jimin, of course. They’re a tangled mess of limbs and wet with beer all the same, pointing at you and laughing as you blink through the drink dripping down your face. You flick beer at them with the liquid on your hands, making them howl. 

“Gross! Jimin!”

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps through the laughter, his arms slung tight around Taehyung’s neck as Jimin leans into him. “I slipped!”

“You owe me a new shirt!” 

Jimin nods, grinning so broadly his eyes are crescents as he stands properly and beckons you. “Come on, both of you. I’ll get you new shirts that aren’t soaked. 

Upstairs is a series of private rooms. The hall is lit with flickering sconces and the plush carpet mutes your footsteps. Jimin leads you and Taehyung, giggling, to a door. He thrusts it open and the three of you tip inside, stopping short at the scene in front of you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to mute your gasp, but Taehyung and Jimin collapse into another fit of laughter. If the two people in the bed are bothered by the interruption, they don’t show it. They are a tableau of pleasure, a woman laying back on the bed, arching upward as she lets out a moan. Her skin is slick with sweat, nipples hard as she teases them with one hand, another hand slipping between her legs to cradle the head of someone there.

The shock roots you to the spot. You can’t look away, completely hypnotized by the way the person between the woman’s legs moans, pressing their mouth further into her, the wet smack of their mouth loud over the woman’s trembling moans. 

You’ve never seen such a raw, carnal exchange. As Taehyung apologizes and grabs you and Jimin, pulling you back out into the hallway, you know you’ll never forget that momentary vision. Even as Jimin directs you to the right room to change your shirt in, you replay the scene over and over in your head, thinking of a different detail every single time: the pleasure on the woman’s face, the delicate bow of her back, the soft swells of her breasts, the wet sounds of the mouth between her legs. 

It haunts you. You swallow thickly when you’re done changing, skin still smelling like beer. Your mind wanders to Yoongi, wondering if this is what he was talking about when he spoke of desire. If he also meant physical desire, the indulgence of the erotic variety. 

The thought shames you so thoroughly you’re silent the rest of the night. You’re embarrassed by your immediate curiosity - angry that you even entertained the thought of being in that position with Yoongi, no matter how fleeting the idea was. 

Yoongi certainly did not mean he was going to teach you that - did he?

You shake the thoughts from your head and focus on reality. Of course he didn’t mean that. Taehyung was right when he spoke about the relationships between humans and dreams - it could never be something. 

-

Sweat trickles down your neck slowly. You feel every inch of it, your skin sensitive and over-warm. Your stomach clenches and your hands twist in your sheets as a hot mouth presses against your throat, teeth scraping, tongue licking. 

An inferno grows inside of you as the mouth sinks lower. You hear your heaving breaths, loud and ragged. Your heart beats in your ears, the staccato almost louder than the whimper that leaves your mouth when a wet, messy kiss is placed on your collarbone. 

It’s madness. It’s tortuous. It’s glorious, this feeling thrumming through you, making you twist your head to the side, muscles clenching and letting loose over and over again, your body completely at war with itself.

But it feels so good. 

One of your hands shoots to the silky, dark hair of the person kissing your chest. You card your fingers through soft strands, tugging a little. A deep, throaty moan escapes the lips pressed to your skin, breath hot and warm. 

Dark eyes meet yours, lips parted and swollen, Yoongi’s pupils blown and -

Panic explodes. You realize it’s Yoongi kissing you this way. Yoongi’s hands skimming up your sides, Yoongi’s mouth pressing searing kisses to your flesh, Yoongi’s moan that is falling from his lips, honey sweet. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, though dream-Yoongi just stares at you, eyes fathomless. “We could never be something.”

“Of course we can,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” 

The weight of his gaze is blazing. You feel your skin burn under the heat of it, you feel like it’s harder to breathe, you feel the sweat run down your spine, your arms, you feel like you’re overheating, it’s hot it’s too-

-

You wake up to something screeching. For a moment, daylight blinds you. You hold your hands in front of your face, shielding your eyes from the light. But the light is an inferno of heat against your hand, making you gasp and choke on thick air as you blink sleep away, trying to make sense of where you are. 

Fire. It isn’t daylight you’ve woken up to, it’s fire. 

Leaping up from bed, you throw your sheets off, scrambling to push yourself against the wall. The flames are already high, licking toward the ceiling and filling your room with thick, grey smoke as the fire eats at the old wood of your house. 

The screech comes again, the shutters on your window rattling. Heart pounding, you slide your hand along the wall, fingers trembling as you press them into the wood, trying to find the metal latch to open them. You cover the lower half of your face with your opposite arm, coughing into it. 

Your fingers slip on the latch, sweaty and shaking. You inch closer to the window, getting a solid grip on the metal and flipping it upward. The latch clacks and the windows swing open, a gust of wind entering the room. It makes matters worse, the oxygen fueling the fire into a rage as it climbs higher and jumps towards your bed. 

You look frantically around your room, realizing you can’t take anything. The writing desk in the corner is aflame, all of the sheets of paper and your hard-earned practice curling into smoke as they’re consumed, your letters from Yoongi turning to ash. 

“No!” you sob, realizing those things are lost forever.

Again, there’s a wild screech. You turn to look out the window to see a large, brown owl - Guardian, you realize - screeching, flapping its great wings, gold eyes fixated on the fire. It yells at you again, as though imploring you to move. 

You take a breath and dive out the window. For a moment as you fall toward the ground, you’re reminded that this is the second time you’re having to use it to escape danger. That thought sinks like a stone in your stomach, going down, down, down until it rests weighty in your gut.

The smack of the ground rattles you. Every part of you hurts, bones jolting as you roll until you’re flat on your back, gasping as the air leaves your lungs momentarily, knocked out of you. Scrambling up despite your limbs protesting in pain, you look up at the fire crawling over your house. 

That’s when you notice it - the noise and the yelling of voices. Inside your home, with the roaring and crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear the crowd outside. Now, you see them in full. They carry torches and farm tools, some of them with axes and hoes, others with scythes. 

They don’t see you yet, giving you a long moment to stare open-mouthed as the pieces of the puzzle slide together. They’ve set your home on fire because of you - they’ve tried to kill you. Because they think you’re a demon and because they think you’re an evil creature. 

Heart in your throat, you scan the lines of the faces. Toward the edge, you see your parents. A group of women consoles your mother, holding her by the shoulders gently as she stares into the orange flame. Your father stands a few feet away, almost by himself, watching and watching and watching. 

They knew you were asleep. And your window had not been closed before bed - you’d been leaving it open at night so Guardian could come and go as he pleased. 

You sit there on the ground, staring in shock, for too long. Someone notices you and points, screaming something that you cannot hear over the blood rushing in your ears. Panic seizes you and you scramble to your feet, sliding a few times as the crowd runs at you.

There’s no time to see what your parents do. The image of them watching their home burn with the thought of you inside is fresh in your memory, a razor-sharp cut that flays you open as you turn and run. Run toward the woods where Nathaniel chased you on that fateful night. 

Run to the woods you almost died in. Run to the woods where Yoongi swooped in and made a promise to protect you. 

Darkness descends. You think for a moment as you enter the woods that you won’t get lucky a second time, that your luck has run out. It’s the panic that scrambles your thoughts, and the memories of Nathaniel chasing you through these woods make you stumble and fall. 

You don’t make it far. You trip over a tree root and tumble into strong arms. The smell of clove and cinnamon is overpowering as you look up at Yoongi, who pulls you into his chest. You let him, sliding your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his neck as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I’ve got you, little lamb.” His voice is dark as the shadows that wrap around you, cool and soothing to the touch. “They cannot hurt you.” 

As Yoongi whisks you away like that fateful night, you hear the echoing voice scream behind you. Devil! Demon King! The Dark God!

-

“It’s my fault,” Yoongi murmurs, cradling your face to inspect it for the tenth time. He’s crouching in front of you, dark eyes wild as he inspects your face for any damage. You pull your jaw from his grasp - even if his touch tingles pleasantly - and look in the other direction. “I should have known.”

“Yes,” Taehyung snaps behind Yoongi, arms crossed and presence thundering. “You should have.” 

There is no fire going in the library tonight. You have a feeling Yoongi has extinguished it for obvious reasons, but you say nothing. You look over Yoongi’s dark head to where Taehyung is raging, his face pinched with anger. You give him a look and he tosses his hands in the air. 

“What?” he demands. “It’s true.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m not going to lie to him. He should have known sending you back was an idiotic idea. Thinking anyone would have accepted you was an oversight.”

Yoongi grits his teeth and stands. You watch as he visibly tries to control his frustration, taking a step back from you. Tonight, he’s dressed in all black. His cloak is still on and his necklaces pool at his throat, the silver cold in the dark of the library. His hair is pulled back out of his face and you think he looks like the real Eternal, tonight. 

He turns to Taehyung. “You know why I sent her back.”

“Yes, your fucked up sense of morality and-”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting right here,” you snap. You ball your fists in your lap. You’re still dressed in night clothes and the scent of ash and sweat is heavy on your skin. You stare at your hands. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Alright.” Yoongi’s extended hand appears in front of you. You drag your eyes up to meet his. Gone is the anger and severity, replaced only with a soft, almost fond expression. “I’ll walk you.”

Putting your hand in Yoongi's, you let him pull you out of the chair. 

You could be mad at him if you tried. Perhaps it would be easy to blame Yoongi for sending you back to keep some semblance of normalcy in your life. Maybe you would feel lighter if you got angry with him for promising to protect you, but only being able to physically do so, unable to shield you from the hatred of your community. 

If you tried, perhaps you could blame him for not letting you drown in the first place. For bringing you here with the fantasy that you could exist with one foot in each world. 

You’re not mad at him, though. Unlike Taehyung, you don’t need to wonder why Yoongi wanted you to spend two weeks in the real world. The real world is yours. It’s where you belong. To want some sort of normalcy for you or hope that you’d be able to pick up your life there anew was perhaps shortsighted, but rooted in the desire to do good for you.

So you’re not angry with Yoongi, though you’re not sure you’re pleased either. 

The walk to your room is silent. Yoongi has let go of your hand but he walks close enough that your arms brush, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing, and he seems content to let you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

This isn’t how you wanted to see him for the first time since your two weeks spent in your realm.

The inside of your room is warm, but there’s no fire. You almost ask if he’s doused every flame in the house, and protest that you’re not afraid, but you don’t. He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You walk toward the chaise and sit on it, looking up at where he hovers by the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. The emotions there are deep, but unreadable. “It was foolish of me to think they’d accept you as you were. Foolish to think that maybe the relationship with your parents might mend.” 

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I am thousands of years old. Humankind has not changed so much in their ability to fear the unknown and react violently. I do know better, but I…”  You wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. Yoongi lets the sentence drift off into the night. Instead of finishing it, he ventures, “Are you sure you’re unharmed?” 

“Yeah, Guardian was screeching at the window.” 

“Guardian?”

“Yeah, the owl. I assumed you sent it to watch over me.” 

Yoongi frowns. “No, that’s what Taehyung was for. I did not…”

“What?” You see the look on his face change, shifting from confused to steel calm. “What is it?” 

“Hoseok,” Yoongi mutters, turning to exit your room. “Try to get some sleep. I have a meddling owl to deal with.” 

As he moves to close the door, you lean forward. “Yoongi?” He looks up, eyes wide, expression soft. He looks like a dark star, just then. The light from the window makes him glow from within, his eyes endless pools, his power ebbing in the room, a constant energy. “Thank you.”

His mouth turns downward. “For what?”

“Saving me. Again.”

His eyes darken. “Your safety will always be paramount to me. I’ll do better.” 

“I think you’re doing the best you are able.” 

“Thank you for saying so.”

Silence hangs between the two of you. It’s heavy, filled with friction that wasn’t there before. You squirm where you sit, suddenly unable to meet the set of eyes pinned to you. You’d  forgotten what his gaze could do to you in person, and now the full force of it is dizzying. 

“Goodnight, little lamb.”

-

A gentle scratch sounds on the other side of the window. You look up from your writing desk to the windows facing the mountains. Beyond the first sprawling peaks, you see the tallest of them all, the dark mountain wreathed in shadow and lightning. 

The thunder rolls, vibrating your bones. You stare at the mountain, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stand on end. You grip the quill tight. 

Beneath the hum of thunder, you hear a scratching on the glass again. You squint, but you see nothing there. Just open air and those ominous mountains in the back, watching you as you scrawl your letters. 

Carefully, you set the quill down and get up. The floor is cold as you walk toward the window, which is strange. The floor is always warm in your room, as are the walls and most of the House of Dreams, fueled by whatever magic lives through Yoongi. 

Near the glass, you almost feel how cold the window is. You frown and lift a hand, pressing a single finger against a pane. It’s freezing to the touch and you yank your hand back, perplexed as you stare at the single fingerprint left by your warm skin. 

The fingerprint fades but the scratching sound does not. A gentle scritch scritch scritch, like a nail on the window. 

“My betrothed,” someone whispers. Your blood runs cold and you whirl around, expecting to find someone standing in your bathroom. “Won’t you open the window for me? It’s so cold outside.” 

Fear turns your stomach into acid. Your hands begin to shake as you stare into the emptiness of your room, suddenly feeling like it’s darker. Did the ceilings get taller? Is your room blurry at the edges? The scratching on the window intensifies, and with trembling lips, you turn to look over your shoulder.

There’s nothing outside, but there’s a shadowy reflection on the glass. A little taller than you. A little wider. 

“Betrothed,” Nathaniel whispers again. “Won’t you let me in to reunite?” 

For a moment, there is silence. The shadow doesn’t move. You don’t dare breathe. The shadow leaps at you and a scream tears through you -

Hands press you into something soft. You kick and scream, lashing out. Sheets tangle your legs and stick to your sweaty skin. Suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe and you thrash wildly, screaming at the top of your lungs as you claw at whatever’s holding you down.

Panic like never before seizes you. Your head smacks into something hard and it knocks you backward, suddenly dizzy as a hand comes up to your head automatically. It hurts where your fingers press into the skin, and you’re momentarily subdued by the way the room spins; the pain morphs your panic into confusion.

Breathing heavily, you blink your eyes rapidly, tears streaming down your face and vision a little blurry as you try and put the pieces together. Finally, you realize Taehyung is sitting on the floor next to your bed with his hand pressed against his forehead, in a similar fashion to your current state. Yoongi stands next to him, hands held up tentatively, as though he is about to grab you or has just let you go. 

Silence hangs in the air, your breathing ragged. Your head - which you can surmise you’ve smacked against Taehyung’s - throbs wildly. As though sensing your discomfort and sticky thoughts, Yoongi’s eyes flicker away from your gaze to your head.

“May I fix that?” he asks slowly, voice gentle. “You smacked heads quite hard. I’m concerned you may be concussed.” 

“Concussed,” you repeat back slowly. The word feels heavy on your tongue. “Right.”

Yoongi’s face colors with concern and he gestures toward you, asking permission again. It takes you another minute to put it together, but you nod dumbly, watching as he steps forward very slowly, dark eyes looking for any sign of protest or panic from you.

When you don’t bolt or swing at him, he takes another step toward you, hands reaching up toward your skull. You flinch when he reaches near and he stops, hands hovering. You can feel the heat of his skin a hair's breadth away, feel the magic skimming along him where he hesitates. 

You look up at Yoongi. His eyes are wide and full of concern, his brows pulled up. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes shift from your head to your eyes, trying to assess what to do. You smell cinnamon and clove and it calms you a little. 

This is Yoongi. Not Nathaniel. Yoongi, who saved you from the grips of that hateful man and who brought you here. Somewhere that made you happy.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You feel tired suddenly, like your adrenaline is waning and the aftereffects are bleeding you out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, pressing his hands gently to your head. You wince, the lump there giving a painful throb as he does. 

“Maybe apologize,” Taehyung mutters from his spot on the floor. “Are you going to give me magic hand, too?”

“Silence, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s voice is cutting. It’s a voice you’ve never heard him use with Taehyung, your eyes shooting up to his in shock. He pays you no mind, focused on his hands. 

Warmth emanates from his palms. Immediately you feel the tingle of magic. It’s soothing, making your eyes flutter as you become dizzy again. You let the warmth wash over you, accompanied by a peculiar array of senses: dark spicy smells; the feeling of velvet against your skin; the taste of cherry wine; a warm breath against your lips.

You shiver, head rolling back a little as it grows heavy and you grow drowsy suddenly, limbs weighted, mind fading. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know that was a dream.” Yoongi grimaces and says nothing. “Why didn’t that feel like a dream, Yoongi?”

“Sleep,” Yoongi murmurs, and his voice feels very far away. “You’ll be fine, now. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Thank you.”

“An easy fix.” 

Yoongi removes his hand and you catch his wrist gently, eyes opening for a moment. “No,” you slur, speech heavy as the exhaustion pulls at you. “Thank you for saving me.”

You don’t know if you mean before, or when your neighbors came for you, or now. Maybe you mean all of it. Maybe you mean saving you from a life that you hated and bringing you here. You mean it nonetheless, though you’re unsure from where the bravery came to say it.

Dropping Yoongi’s wrist, you fall backward unceremoniously onto your bed. There is no fear of Nathaniel scratching at the glass anymore, your mind mostly empty, save for the smell of cinnamon and clove. 

Yoongi and Taehyung gather to leave your room, and as you fade, you catch the tiniest bit of conversation from Taehyung. “... need to teach her. It’s only going to get worse… spinner.” 

Sleep takes you. 

-

Being back in the House of Dreams feels like home. Though the lingering feeling of hot flame and the look on your parents’ faces as they watch their home burn still haunts you, you feel safer than you have in the last week. 

In the House of Dreams, there's no one to mutter prayers and sign wards against evil as you pass by. There’s no one glaring at you - except Taehyung, who pouts when you steal the last of the honey for your toast at breakfast. It’s just Yoongi and Taehyung, who talk more chipper than usual at breakfast. 

You eye Yoongi carefully. He sits at the head of the table, dressed in a beautiful, jade-colored silk shirt. His hair is pulled back in a bun, earrings dangling as he leads forward and plucks melon from the bowl in front of him. 

Yoongi lifts the fruit to his mouth. You pause chewing your toast, eyes focused on the way he bites into the fruit, lips plush around it, a bead of juice running down his chin. Suddenly you’re thinking about the night at The Desert Rose, a head between legs, a back that’s arched, skin sweaty-

Taehyung clears his throat from across the table and draws your attention. He’s staring at you with thinly veiled amusement, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You scowl and take a large bite of your toast before swallowing what's in your mouth, feeling heat bloom in your cheeks and neck. 

Yoongi is none the wiser, chewing happily on his fruit as he scratches Tiara under her chin. She chirps like a bird and purrs like a cat, letting out small curls of smoke everytime she puffs happily. 

Your mouth twitches in a smile as you look at your plate, happy to be back with them. 

“I want you to come to the Dream Tower with me today,” Yoongi ventures lightly. You snap your gaze up in surprise. He looks casual, as though he’s not offering you to come to the place he works, filled with magic and dreams. “I think you could help me.”

“Me?”

His mouth quirks. “Is there another human prone to trouble around here that I’m not aware of?” 

“I thought you blamed yourself?”

“So I do. But yes - you.” 

“How do you want me to help?”

Yoongi grins as he pops another piece of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You’ll see.” 

Despite your excitement and the promise of a look inside  Yoongi’s lair, even him asking for your help doesn’t earn you a break from daily reading and writing lessons. When Yoongi gestures to the assigned work on your desk, you throw him a severe look followed by a pout. As endeared as he seems, he is unwavering, patting your desk chair as he walks by. 

You’re not really mad. You fall into an easy calm as you sit down and scoot up toward the desk. The fire is low and crackling in the fireplace today and the library smells faintly of cardamom as you work. Tiara flights around the second story of the room, chittering and following Yoongi - who seems to be organizing the shelves. 

Taehyung vanishes to do whatever it is he does during the day. You’re not even sure if it’s day in your world. You hope he will take you to The Desert Rose again to see Jimin and to drink cider. You love the warmth of the crowd and the loud bustle. 

The House of Dreams is quiet. 

Time slips as you work. You lose yourself in swirling letters and short reading passages, so much so that when there is a tingling presence near your shoulder, you flinch, ripping your quill across the page and splattering ink. 

Yoongi tsks and apologizes, grabbing an ink stained cloth to wipe the spilled liquid from the desk. His proximity makes your head spin, the edge of his hips grazing your shoulder as he leans over you to clean the mess you’ve made. 

Mouth drying, you drop the quill and flex your hand, coughing out an apology as you try to organize your thoughts that spill like the ink on the desk at his nearness. 

Being away from him almost made you forget how dizzying his presence could be. Yoongi regards your work in silence, but all you can focus on is the measured sound of his breathing, the warmth radiating from him, the curve of his mouth, the juice running down his-

“Ready?”

“What?” you ask, blinking and looking up at him owlishly. He gazes down at you, cocking a brow. It’s obvious he had asked you a question. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening?” 

“What were you doing?”

“... Staring.”

“At?”

“The wall?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” he questions, his voice laced with teasing. 

You scowl and shove your chair backward into his stomach, knocking him back. He lets out a loud oof and a bit of laughter as you stand and stretch, hyperaware that he’s been in a rather cheeky mood since breakfast. 

Together, you begin your walk to the tower. Tiara comes along, jumping up on Yoongi’s shoulder and curling herself around him like a scarf, her tail wrapped gently around his neck. She regards you with distaste and her tongue flickers out to taste the air, a curl of smoke escaping her nose as she huffs.

Fighting the urge to stick your tongue out at a dragon, you opt to walk in comfortable silence. 

As you do, your thoughts inevitably drift to the night before and the dream that didn’t feel like a dream. For the most part, you feel like you can tell when you’re dreaming. There’s always an opaque feeling to your dreams, something a little off. 

Now, you’re worried that perhaps you can’t tell the difference. You think that maybe you should ask Yoongi if he can help you tell the difference between being awake and dreaming, but your desire to ask is stopped as you reach the foot of stairs you’ve never climbed before. 

Yoongi looks down at you as he begins ascending, giving you a gummy smile that sends your pulse galloping after him. You curse your traitor heart, trying to remember what Taehyung said to you about the relationship between dreams and humans. It could never work. But… you’re here. In Yoongi’s home, and you don’t know how long you’re allowed to stay - if you’re ever supposed to go back again.

Both of you seem to completely ignore that you were brought back to the dream realm ahead of schedule, that maybe going back is no longer an option. 

There are doors leading to rooms as you ascend the stairs. Yoongi ignores all of them in favor of climbing up, up, and up. Your calves burn by the time you make it to the top, pausing to catch your breath and sweep your eyes across the large, circular room. 

It’s stunning. Glancing up, your mouth falls open in surprise when you see that there is no ceiling, but a mass of writhing cosmos and something like a night sky. The nebulous display casts a lavender and blue glow on the room below, the two-tone light shifting and moving. 

There are all manner of things in the room. Tables covered in papers, rich rugs with different designs, chairs and bookshelves and curiosity cabinets and glass cases full of glowing things that you cannot identify. Tiara hops off of Yoongi’s shoulder and floats on small wings toward a pile of blankets, twigs, and leaves that looks like a nest.

What demands your attention most, though, is the massive stone dais in the room, with a stone column about waist high with something that looks like a bowl carved into the top. From where you stand, you can see there’s liquid in the bowl that moves and shimmers with its own glow. Occasionally, a sparkle or wisp of color drifts from the cool surface.

Energy vibrates in the air. You can feel it like a static on your skin and taste it like a buzz on your tongue. You’re drawn to the dais, taking a step forward and halting. It feels like a hum shivers through you. You look at Yoongi, questioning. 

“The dream pool,” he answers, as though you have any idea what that is. 

He walks toward it and looks back at you, hesitating before he offers a hand. Excitement shoots through you as you take his hand and he pulls you toward it. Your hand tingles where you hold his. Even when you reach the dais and he lets go, there’s pins and needles left behind. 

“This is where I help create dreams for those who can’t do it on their own.” 

The liquid in the basin brightens as Yoongi steps up close. You watch as a watercolor of lights splashes across his face. He looks down into the bowl lovingly, a soft smile on his face, and so much adoration in his eyes that you find yourself watching him instead of the magical water in the bowl. 

“This room is full of things that help inspire dreams. I make everything myself but Taehyung likes to help - he likes to decorate and fill the room with items that inspire creativity.”

“Somehow I think dream personified doesn’t need it.”

He shoots you a grin. “You’d be surprised. Come look.”

Tentatively, you step up next to him. You’re aware of how close you stand, his sleeves brushing yours as he places a hand on the basin. It comes up to your stomach and is two feet in diameter. The water looks so much deeper than you thought. You’re unable to see the bottom, an illusion that makes you dizzy.

Like the sky above, the water shimmers and moves with its own set of stars and colors. It feels alive, like whatever power is in the dream pool recognizes you and wakes up, spinning as you look into the glittering surface. 

“I can feel and hear people dream,” Yoongi explains. “It’s like a frequency that I can tap into. I can turn it on and off at a whim. Those who don’t struggle to dream are so much quieter than those who cannot dream. I listen for those who cannot, and I come here and focus on them in my mind’s eye before creating them a dream. I pour in thoughts, feelings, scents, sounds, memories and the like into this bowl. I think it, and so it appears.” 

“How?”

“What you’d call magic. Really it’s just divine power. This is a part of me,” he says, tapping the rim of the basin. “Just like dreams are.”

“How can I help you do… this?” you ask, gesturing wildly to the water.

Yoongi’s smile is angelic. “You have the raw capability of a dreamer. Someone who dreams so powerfully and loudly that it can’t help but catch my attention.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your imagination and your ability to come up with things is more innate than most people. You’re an innovator, a great conjurer of stories and fantasies. It’s a rare gift in humans. Some call you Spinners - you can spin dreams up just as easily as I can, with practice, but you cannot do so without a tool like this basin.” 

“A spinner.” You remember the night before, hearing the word on Taehyung’s lips. “Are there others?” 

He nods. “Under fifty in the entire world. I believe you’ve met another one. He’s the one Taehyung visits.”

“Jimin?” 

“Mhmm. He’s like you. You have no power though, not in your world. Just raw ability.”

“So if I were to use this… pool of dreams, I could give people dreams.”

He nods, smiling. You smile back at him, his happiness infectious. You like the way his eyes crinkle when he grins broadly at you, the way his cheeks tint pink. It is strange to think that this soft man in front of you is also the same dark, powerful god who has swept in to save you, whose voice haunts your dreams and whose phantom touch lingers in all of the places that it shouldn’t. 

Licking his lips and rolling his shoulders, Yoongi takes his stance at the basin. You watch, fascinated as he sweeps a hand over the surface, not touching the water. It ripples an entire rainbow of colors, casting shadows on his face when he peers down into the water as the surface smoothes out like a mirror. 

An opaque image materializes on the surface. You watch as Yoongi concentrates. Slowly, things begin appearing. A cerulean ocean, waves rolling gently against a sandy beach. Foam clings to the sand. Starfish of every color - blue, green, red - begin to dot the beach. A gull cries above, so clear it feels like you’re there. Then you smell it - the salt, the brine. The subtle scent of driftwood. A breeze blows against your face, carrying the cool ocean mist. 

You let out a laugh as Yoongi smiles, his eyes never leaving the images unfolding in the basin. You watch as a dolphin crests a wave, earning a gasp from you. You’ve never seen a dolphin, only heard about them in passing from fishermen from the coast. They spray water high into the air as they break the waves, moving smoothly through glittering waters. 

It feels so real and warm, the dream bright and full of hope. Happiness. Excitement. You feel what Yoongi pours into the basin, your toes curling as though you can feel hot sand beneath your feet. 

“The trick,” Yoongi explains carefully, “Is imagining everything that would make it feel real. It can’t be just what you see. It has to be what you hear, what you feel, what you smell, what emotions you evoke. You have to do all of these things at once - you have to believe in them all at once. Dreams about real things are the easiest. More complex dreams can include anything you can imagine that humans believe to be fake: dragons, brownies, griffons.” 

“How do you know what to give?” 

“You feel it. Place your hand on the side.” 

Carefully, you lift your hand to the side of the dream pool. You hesitate and look up at Yoongi, eyes wide. He gives you an encouraging nod. You place your hand on the bowl, feeling the warm stone. 

A pulse of energy flows through you. You gasp, flinching a little as you feel the basin come alive under your touch. You close your eyes as sensations flood you: hopelessness, stress, exhaustion. Suddenly, Yoongi’s dream makes sense. He instills a sense of peace and serenity at the beach, of hope and wonder with the dolphins, of rest with the cool wind and warm sand. 

“Amazing,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “This is wonderful.” 

“I’ll do some more. Keep your hand where it is. You’ll feel what it is they feel. Try not to think too hard about anything while you’re connected - let me do the work.” 

Watching Yoongi work can happen with your eyes closed, you realize. You lose yourself in time and space. No longer are you in the Dream Tower. Now, Yoongi walks you through the world.

You enter through dreams, feeling sudden sadness or loss, even heartache. Every dream you encounter, there is profound suffering at the beginning. Yoongi gently sends the pain on its way, observes what each dreamer needs, and begins spinning up images. Sounds. Feelings. 

Rain falls on your face as you stand over the tops of a misty forest. It’s gentle and cool to the touch, soothing. You smell pine and damp earth, giving you energy. Your toes feel the wet grass beneath you, grounding you and making you feel more centered than you ever have.

Wheat brushes the tips of your fingers. You look out into a sea of gold, healthy crops bending with the wind. An azure sky stretches mile after mile, not a cloud in sight as the sun heats your skin. You smell fresh air and hear the grasshoppers buzz among the fresh stalks of wheat, feeling the reward of growing healthy grain. 

A dog runs after a ball. The hills are the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen, the dog dashing up the hill and barking loudly. You feel laughter bubble up your throat and unfettered joy as thick clouds float by. The dog grabs the ball and runs back, its tail wagging and coat shiny. You feel nostalgic and happy to be reunited with a friend. 

Fireflies flicker to life in a forest at night. They alight on the tree branches and your arms, casting gold luminescence on your skin. You marvel at them, spinning in a circle as you look at the dark trees. You smell the maple sap and the bark, you hear the crickets.

It’s just like the woods near your house -

Your house. 

A slice of fear goes through you. You remember the darkness of the woods as Nathaniel tried to drown you, the press of his fingers into your skull. The roaring of the flooding water and the burning of your lungs. The fireflies flicker out one by one and the darkness begins to grow. You’re suddenly terrified. Curiosity vanishes and is replaced with deep fear. 

You taste stale water in your mouth. You smell the smoke of your burning house. You feel water rushing up to your ankles and inching higher, you hear the screams of Nathaniel’s vitriol, you feel your lungs start to fill, the air stars to leave, the roots of the trees grab at your feet-

A sharp yank pulls you out of the forest. You gasp for air, falling backward off of the dais and onto the floor. Gentle hands cradle your face and you hear a deep voice calling out to you, speaking your name through the dull roar in your ears. 

Blinking, you look upward to see Yoongi inches away from your face. His eyes are round and gentle, his hands steady. Warm. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips as he leans over you. A strand of dark hair escapes his bun, falling across his forehead and eye. You don’t know why, but you think it looks dashing. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, searching your face. “Are you with me?” 

“Yeah,” you rasp, lungs heaving. “What happened?” 

His thumb brushes back and forth across your cheek as he sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your face. “You thought of the night that I saved you. Your fear was powerful. Raw. As you started to remember things you grew more afraid and you took over the dream.”

You blink once. Twice. Remember the way that the fireflies suddenly flickered out and how the water started to rush in from nowhere. “I did that?” 

“I didn’t expect you to be such a natural. I had a feeling but… you caught me by surprise and shoved me out.”

“I can do that?”

“When I’m caught off guard, yes. You took control of creating the dream and turned it into…”

“A nightmare.”

He nods. “It’s my fault. I didn’t think you would think that forest looked the same, but I was wrong. I keep… having oversights. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Being human.” 

Silence suspends between you. You’re sprawled on the floor of the Dream Tower with Yoongi hovering over you. His knees are pressed against your hips and his shirt collar is hanging low as he leans, revealing more skin than you’ve ever seen from him. You don’t dare drop your eyes from his, staring at their dark depths.

The space between you is minimal and neither of you move. You hope he cannot hear the way your heart hammers in your chest or sense the way your body crackles like lightning, sparking at his proximity. The nightmare you made is long forgotten, replaced with his touch, his smell, his closeness. 

Yoongi holds your face delicately, like a treasured item. You cannot imagine that he means to hold you so, but the sudden want that licks through you is powerful, your desire for him to hold you like you’re something precious surprising you in its strength. 

“You make me want to get better at it.” His voice is soft, barely even a whisper. 

“At what?”

A gentle laugh. “Being human. It is unfamiliar, but I wish to know more of what it's like. To have more of the instinct.”

“Why?”

He pauses. “Because I’ve lived for thousands of years, and never really had the chance to try.” 

It is a similar sentiment that Taehyung had shared. The thought of Taehyung makes you smile, sitting up suddenly. Yoongi leans back on his haunches quickly, careful not to knock heads. “What?” he asks, noting your sudden excitement. 

“Has Taehyung ever taken you to the Desert Rose?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve been interested. Why?”

You grab his hand. You notice the way he seems surprised, but he doesn’t pull away as you scramble to your feet. “You want to see what it’s like to be human. I know a place.” 

-

Yoongi makes a face as he sips the beer Taehyung has thrust into his hands. You and Taehyung laugh, tossing your heads back with it. Yoongi looks unimpressed but continues to drink nonetheless, his dark eyes scanning the crowded bar. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb. Eyes are immediately drawn to Yoongi wherever he goes. You think everyone must feel the divinity as he walks by them, his power a magnet for attention. Even sitting at the table with you and Taehyung, tucked near the door, people turn in their seats to get a good look at him or pause when they enter the Desert Rose. 

It doesn’t help that he looks beautiful. Air had gotten stuck in your throat when he arrived at the library at the appointed time to meet you and Taehyung to come here. His hair hangs in soft waves around his face, earrings peaking between inky strands when he moves his head. His dark shirt is long-sleeved but unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a strip of pale, smooth skin and his layered necklaces. His eyes are glittering tonight, almost like constellations are held within. 

Yoongi is the night. The black pants and black boots paired with the shirt make him look like a dark prince. Perhaps the son of the moon, even. You notice the way the stares turn from curious to hungry, Yoongi lighting a fire among those around him. 

Jealousy sours your stomach. You hate that it does, but it’s like a second instinct, some sort of possessive monster rearing its head as you avert your gaze when a beautiful man asks Yoongi if he wants to dance. Yoongi shakes his head, giving a polite smile in return before turning away and chugging more of his drink.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous. 

“Thousands of years old and a room full of people scares you,” Taehyung teases, confirming your suspicions. Yoongi’s gaze is thin as a razor. “You should get out more. I’ve been telling you that.”

“Eternals don’t make a habit of walking around the human realm. Our presence disturbs the natural chemistry of the world.”

“Then why did you spend so many days in the wood-”

Yoongi kicks Taehyung under the table. He hollers in pain as Yoongi glowers, making you giggle. Though he’s no natural among the crowd, you can see that he’s trying to fit in. He watches the way people slouch in their chair and he imitates it. Drinks more of his beer, not because of the taste but because it's what people do here. 

Music thrums in the room. There is a crowd of people clapping their hands and dancing, stomping their feet along to the music. You nervously look at Yoongi throughout the night, trying to see if he’s enjoying himself, wondering what he thinks of the place. 

A couple near your table knocks over a pitcher of mead as the man presses the woman into the table in an arduous kiss. You can’t help but watch for a moment, entranced by the way he kisses her as though he’ll die if he doesn’t, as if her lips are the last thing he wants to remember. 

Sensing Yoongi’s gaze on you, you glance at him. He stares at you, drinking you in before his eyes drift to the couple you’d been studying. Embarrassment heats your face as you bring your cup to your lips, hiding behind the tankard as you take large gulps of cider. 

The cider takes the edge off. It makes you feel warm and loose, though you’re still a little nervous with Yoongi’s quiet countenance sitting beside you. 

“Jimin’s here!” you announce excitedly, clapping your hands together when he appears downstairs. Taehyung’s knee bumps into the bottom of the table as he jerks to turn around. “Jimin should meet Yoongi!”

“I would love to.” 

Taehyung groans. “No, please.”

“Why not?” Yoongi demands. “Should I not meet the human that brings my friend here most evenings? Should I not meet the friend of my -” Yoongi looks at you and stumbles over his words. “- my friend?” 

Friend. You’re not sure if the word fits, exactly. But you don’t know what else it is that Yoongi would call you. Friend implies something beyond acquaintances, which you are sure you are. But it fits like an ill-sized dress, hanging crooked on your frame.

“I don’t want you to scare him off!” Taehyung protests. 

Yoongi looks dubious. “Why would I do that?”

“Shut up,” you hiss as Jimin notices you. You lift your hand in an eager wave, beckoning him over. “Yoongi, be nice.”

“I am nice. Do you think I’m not nice?” 

Instead of answering him, you get up to greet Jimin warmly with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. When you step back, you see Yoongi’s burning gaze, a tick in his jaw as he stares Jimin down, tonguing his cheek. You hiss at Yoongi and snap your finger to signal for him to drop the severe expression. 

He looks at you and his features smooth out as he rises to his feet lithely, reaching an arm around you. Yoongi startles you when he places his hand on your mid-back as he leans forward to shake Jimin’s, introducing himself. 

The contact is so brief that you wonder if he had done it at all as he sits down. For a moment, you’re the only one standing, staring at Yoongi in confusion as the three men sit. They all look at you expectantly and you plop down suddenly. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, mirth evident in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, still recovering. It felt like a deliberate touch. Firm, but gentle. Polite, but… something. “How are you?” 

To your pleasure - and Taehyung’s evident relief - Yoongi and Jimin get along fine. If Jimin is put off by Yoongi’s peculiarity, he doesn’t show it. You wonder if he’s used to being around Taehyung, who has his own strange charm and inhuman energy vibrating around him. 

Yoongi says little, but seems comfortable. You watch him as he watches Taehyung, who has stars in his eyes every time he looks at Jimin. He leans closer to Jimin as they mutter about something conspiratorially, giggling behind their hands. Jimin brushes a strand of hair out of Taehyung’s face and the love that blooms in Taehyung’s expression is so evident that you wonder if Jimin knows. He has to know. And he looks like he feels the same. 

When Jimin drags Taehyung up to dance, you encourage them, shooing them off toward the growing crowd of people spinning around the room. Tables are shoved out of the way, chairs scraping to make room for the revelers. You move your chair some as your table is pushed, making the beers tilt dangerously. 

Yoongi grabs the leg of your chair and pulls it roughly toward him. Before you can say something, someone stumbles where your chair just was, toppling into the table next to you. You look at Yoongi with shock and he winks before returning to lounging in his seat, watching the crowd. 

Now that you’re sitting much closer to him, you can smell him. Still, you try to relax, watching as Jimin teaches Taehyung the steps to the dance the crowd is doing. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Yoongi says over the loud voices. “This is nice. I see why Taehyung likes it.”

“You don’t hate it?” He makes a face and you laugh. “Yoongi, you hate it.”

“It’s a bit loud, but I don’t hate it. I like the quiet. I like… solitude. But not always. This is a good break.” 

“So you never just… stroll among the people sometimes?”

“Never had a reason to.”

“But how can you make dreams if you don’t know people?”

“Dreams are inherent to me. They are an instinct. They aren’t born from people. They’re born from something rawer than that. People just happen to dream.” 

You hum, not sure that you follow. Silence lulls between you as the song changes. “This place is so different from anywhere I’ve been,” you tell him. “My mother and father would have hated a place like this where people want so freely and people are so… provocative.”

“Life is provocative. So is nature, and magic. And dreams.” 

“Is that why you’re a god of desire, too?” He nods once, his eyes on you. “Can you… sense what people innately desire? All the time?” 

You don’t ask the real question, which is: Can you tell what I desire when I’m with you? Still, Yoongi shrugs a shoulder. “Snippets. LIke I said, I try not to pry. I don’t think that anyone here needs to be inspired by me to delve into what they want here, that’s for sure.” His eyes darken. “Though perhaps there is one.”

It is not your imagination when he says it. You know that he means you. This you are sure of. You stare at Yoongi, the rest of the room fading away. He stares right back at you, as though willing you to agree, or to deny his claim. Your heart speeds up and you feel the sweat on your neck, the slick on your palms. 

“You said you’d help me indulge.” Your voice shakes when you say it. “How… do I do that?”

Yoongi’s mouth kicks up at the side. He leans forward and offers you a hand. When you just stare at it, he laughs. “Dance with me.”

“Dancing? That is indulging?” 

“You might be surprised.” 

Tension goes taught between you. You feel it sizzling in the air as you stare one another down. Yoongi’s hand remains outstretched, beckoning. Slowly, you put the cup of cider down and slide your hand into his. You’ve done this so many times, letting him lead you somewhere or help you up. 

When Yoongi grips your hand and pulls you to your feet, it feels different than all the times before. The soft, gentle Eternal of dreams has melted away and left something sharper. Darker. Edgier. Your heart flutters butterfly-fast as he leads you to where there are people spinning in tight circles on the floor. 

Yoongi yanks you toward him, pulling you into his chest. One hand loops over his shoulder, your palm cradling the back of his neck, while the other grips his. His hand goes snuggling around your waist, pulling you firmly to him as he ducks his head toward your ear, voice deep and soft as he whispers, “Follow me.” 

You would follow him anywhere, you think. Anywhere at all. 

Dancing is not something you ever recall doing. It wasn’t necessary where you grew up. Most of your festivals in town were a reserved affair and you’d never been to any parties or celebrations. Most weddings were stiff and formal, and not for merriment as much as respect. 

Now, your world turns into a kaleidoscope of color and laughter. Yoongi spins you around the room, his feet smooth and fast. You stumble to keep up at first, but Yoongi is a confident lead, his steps instructing yours, his hands pulling and guiding you as you go. 

Laughter rushes out of you. You cannot help the glee that glitters in your veins. Yoongi’s laughter is like spilled moonlight. You look up at him with a grin, seeing his gummy smile as he dips you suddenly, making you squeal. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You know he won’t drop you but the exhilaration is in your veins as he lifts you back up, crushing you to him. 

Your arms and legs burn with effort as you continue. The song changes and Yoongi lets go and spins you. You go crashing into Taehyung’s arms. He’s a far worse dancer than Yoongi, and the two of you are a mess of tripped feet, trilling laughter and elbows into ribs. He pushes you back to Yoongi’s waiting arms. 

It terrifies you how much it feels like home, like a key sliding into a lock. Your arms go around him as his hands squeeze your waist. You come alive where you touch, looking up at him. He watches you, the shadow of his lashes framing delicate eyes. His mouth is red and soft. 

Yoongi’s eyes dart down to your mouth. Your breath catches and he moves a little closer, pressing his head to yours, noses brushing. The entire world vanishes and it’s just Yoongi, his lips so close you can almost taste them, his fingers digging into your hips. 

Your eyes flutter shut just as someone crashes into you. You scream as you’re knocked hard into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling as he catches you from falling over completely. The crowd goes wild with laughter as a man is sprawled on the ground, laughing and drunk, having lost his balance. 

A breathless laugh escapes you as you and Yoongi straighten, separating a little. The moment between you is shattered, clattering away like pieces of broken glass as you catch your breath and gather your wits. You look around, searching for Taehyung only to see him alone at your table, eyes heavy and gaze lingering across the room. You turn to see Jimin leaning on the bar, smiling at something a woman is whispering in his ear. 

Glancing back at Taehyung, you see him shove away from the table and storm out the door. Yoongi notices this too, but he’s slow on the uptake, his hand still on your hip. You shake off his hold on you and go after Taehyung, shouting his name.

Taehyung is just outside the Desert Rose, head tilted down and shoulders pulled up tight around his ears. When you touch the small of his back, he flinches, gazing at you with tear-stained eyes and a look so crestfallen you feel your heart crack.

He sniffs. “This is why,” he whispers. “This is why I told you we can never be. Humans and dreams - we aren’t. We don’t match.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say. You open your arms and he leans into you, folding in half as he sobs, breaking down into your shoulder. You hush him gently, holding him tight and squeezing him, trying to pour your love into him. 

Over Taehyung’s shoulder, your gaze settles on Yoongi. He watches the two of you in silence, face impassive. And your heart breaks a little more, realizing the truth of Taehyung’s words. 

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[btsugarush]

GANGSTA | myg - 003

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

warnings for this chapter: attempted sexual assault.

authors note: sorry if you asked to be tagged but weren’t. some accounts wouldn’t let me tag, so if you asked but you’re not here it’s likely because tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you.

word count: 3.3k

The erratic sound of banging on your front door startles you, nearly causing you an untimely death as you almost had a slip and fall in the shower. You regain your balance, groaning in the process as it didn’t take a village to figure out who exactly was pounding on your door at this time of night. You turn the valves, shutting off the water before grabbing a towel from the towel rack and wrapping it around yourself. 

You step out of the tub, your wet feet pattering on the living room floor to let in who you could only assume was Mina. You pull open your front door, and Mina speeds past you without saying a word. “Mina, it’s late. What are you doing here? You know I have work tomorrow,” You frown, shutting the door. 

When you turn to your friend, you notice her eyes were bloodshot red from crying. “Woah… what's wrong?” You scrunch your eyebrows, now feeling worried. “I think Jin is cheating on me.” She sniffs. Your eyes widened, and your mouth dropped open in shock. Jin? Cheating on Mina? You somehow found that hard to believe. Jin was in love with Mina. 

“How can you be sure? Did you catch him?” She shakes her head, plopping down on your couch. “No. It’s just that he’s been acting so weird lately. He’s anxious, jumpy and he’s always checking his phone. He’s been so secretive.”  You make a “tsk” sound, grabbing a chair from your table to pull up across from her, not wanting to sit your wet body on your couch. “You’re overthinking this. You said yesterday that he’s struggling with work, so it’s only plausible that he’s stressed and anxious.” 

“Yeah, but he just doesn’t seem like himself. I’m worried he’s going to leave me.” 

“Mina, Seokjin loves you. I’d be surprised if he was cheating. The guy literally worships the ground you walk on.” You smile softly, trying your best to reassure her. “He doesn’t seem to worship the ground I walk on much lately…” she wipes away the stray tears on her cheeks. “So talk to him, see where he’s coming from. Give him an ultimatum if you have to, I don’t know. But don’t assume the worst.” 

Mina lets out a heavy sigh, slowly nodding her head. “I guess you’re right…” you knew you were right. Jin wasn’t even the type of guy to sneak around. He was always calling you in regards to Mina. What to buy her for her birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day. It just didn’t seem likely. “Can I sleep over tonight? I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.” You couldn’t refuse the offer, it beats taking the bus. 

“How can I say no when you drive such a hard bargain?” You chuckle, standing up from the chair and dragging it back to your table. “Did I interrupt something?” Mina asked, just now noticing you were wrapped in a towel. “Only my shower.” You walk back into your bedroom, pulling open your wardrobe to grab a nightgown. You slip on the gown before lazily tossing your towel atop of your dresser. 

Mina comes into your room after you’re dressed, throwing herself into your bed. “How was work today?” She asks. You grimaced. You didn’t even want to think or talk about work after what happened with Yoongi today. That guy seriously gave you the creeps. “Same old, same old until Mr. Kim made me deliver food in Gongdan.” 

Mina gasped, sitting up in your bed. “You went to the devil’s playground?” You nodded, climbing into bed with her. “Yes, and that isn’t even the worst part. The person I was delivering to was that psycho Yoongi.” Mina gagged upon hearing the raven’s name. “I’m still creeped out from your altercation with him and his gang yesterday. What a coincidence.” 

“I wouldn’t quite call it that…” you mumble, your mind wandering back to him knowing the details of your personal life. “What do you mean by that?” She raises a brow. You bite down on your bottom lip, contemplating on whether or not you should tell her about Yoongi and his “connections”. Mina wasn’t the type of person to handle news like that lightly. She’d be freaked out constantly looking over her shoulder. 

“Nothing, I’m just overexaggerating.” You played it off.  “I should get to bed. Don’t wanna collapse on the job tomorrow.” You stood up from your bed to switch off your lights before climbing back in to snuggle under your blanket. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

“I’ll pick you up when you’re off, alright?”

“Sounds good. See you, Mina!” The blonde waves goodbye before pulling off. Hopefully she takes this time off to talk to her boyfriend, you could tell she was still sad about it. You enter Makoto, the door dinging as you do. “Oh, kid, thank god you’re here. I thought you were going to call off too.” Mr. Kim says upon your arrival; the older man was on the floor taking orders. “Too? Jimin isn’t here?” You frown, looking around for the brunette. 

“No, that unreliable little shit called off. Apparently he has the flu. So hurry up and clock in, then come take over these orders.” You nod, walking to the back of the kitchen. You grab a time card and swipe it through the clock before taking an apron from the hook. As you’re tying the cloth around your waist, the kitchen phone begins to ring. “I got it.” Mr. Kim says, appearing from the cut. 

You grab a notepad and pen from the pen holder, taking Mr. Kim’s place on the floor. There weren’t a lot of people in today, nor did you have a lot of orders to take considering Mr. Kim had already taken most of them. You were shocked that Jimin called off today. He never missed a day of work, you would’ve thought he was immune to any kind of disease. 

“Well, aren’t you a better exception than the old man.” A young brunette says as you approach his table. He’s sitting across from a woman, who doesn’t seem to mind his eyes raking up and down your body. She must’ve been his friend, and not his girl. “Can I get you anything?” 

“Your number.” He chuckles. You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh. You didn’t have time for this. “My name is Taehyung, beautiful. But you can call me Tae.” He bites down on his bottom lip in a sultry way. You shake your head, turning your attention to the girl instead as you saw you were getting nowhere. “Ma’am, can I get you anything?” 

“I’ll just take some water, nothing else.” You write down her order, slowly nodding your head.‘You could’ve had water at your house.’ You thought, feeling as though these people were here to waste your time. You turn back to the man, Tae, seeing if he was finally ready to put aside the flirting and order something. “Now can I get you anything?” 

“Rice cakes.” He replies dryly, looking off put at the fact you rejected him. He must not get too many rejections. You write down the order, throwing a smile their way. “I'll be back with your orders.” You stumble off into the kitchen, catching Mr. Kim stuffing a brown bag into a plastic one. “We’ve got another delivery order today.” He says, holding out the bag for you to take. You look from Mr. Kim, to the bag in his hands. “No way. Last time I went it was that thug, Min Yoongi.” You crossed your arms, refusing to take the bag. 

“Yeah, so what? Like it or not, he’s still a customer. We can’t refuse people just because we don’t like them.”

“It’s more than that, Mr. Kim–” 

Mr. Kim cuts you off before you’re able to continue protesting. “Take the damn order, y/n.” You sigh, snatching the bag from the older man’s hand. When you check the order, you’re not surprised that it’s the same address you went to yesterday. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Mr. Kim knew that Yoongi was stalking you, but he was too scared to put his foot down. If Jimin was there, he’d be the one doing deliveries. Was he actually sick?  You weren’t so sure anymore. 

You exit the kitchen through the back door, same as yesterday. As you pick up the red bike from the ground, you ponder on whether or not you should truly go to the address. You could just ride around, eat that jerk’s dumplings and then come back to work as if you made the trip. ‘What if that asshole calls though? He’ll probably get me fired.’ You pout. Guess you didn’t have a choice. Maybe you’ll just ring the bell this time, sit it out front and leave before he comes out. 

You mount the bike, tie the bag to the handle just as you did the other day and ride off to Gongdan. You didn’t use your GPS this time around, seeing as you knew exactly where the destination was. As you cross over into the devil’s playground, you notice the same group of men standing on the corner smoking weed again. They watch you, whispering something amongst themselves. 

‘Is this a daily routine for them?’ 

As the streets get emptier in this general territory, you knew you were close. For some reason people never seemed to venture where Yoongi’s little headquarters were, except for a few homeless folks. You make a turn, coming up on the warehouse. You ride your bike around to where you remember the front door was, and your face goes grim. 

Yoongi was standing outside, puffing on a cigarette. The raven notices you pull up, and a smile forms his face. So much for leaving the damn food in front of the door. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite delivery girl.” You halt the bike, kicking forward the brakes before dismounting. You hand the raven his food, which he takes. “What? Not speaking to me?” 

You keep your mouth closed, not giving him the satisfaction of you bantering back and forth. You don’t get very far before he’s stopping you from getting onto the bike. “Hey,” the raven grabs your wrist, twirling you around to face him. “I’m talking to you. I don’t take well to being ignored.” 

You snatch your wrist away from him. “And I don’t take well to being stalked. I thought I told you to leave me alone?” Yoongi smirks. “And I thought I told you I get what I want?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You may get what you want, but I won’t be one of them. Next time you call my job under false pretenses, I’m not showing up.” You climb back onto the bike, kicking back the brakes before riding away from the warehouse. You don’t even spare a second glance at the man. 

How long was this going to go on for? Was he constantly going to call on you for deliveries on your work days? Perhaps you should adjust your schedule. That way he wouldn’t know what days you worked. Your mind was so clouded with Yoongi that you neglected to pay attention where you were going. You end up making a hard stop as you notice a man in your pathway. “Hey!” You shout at him. “Don’t you know not to stand in the middle of a bike lane?” 

The man doesn’t respond, casually spitting on the ground. You squint your eyes, the stranger looking vaguely familiar. It then dawns on you; he was one of the men that stood on the corner smoking weed. You feel slightly uncomfortable as the guy made no effort to speak, or even move out of your way. “Okay… guess I’ll just go around you then.” You try to maneuver around him, but he blocks your path again.

“What’s your problem? Move.” You say, once again trying to go around. Unfortunately it was all to no avail. You decide to back away instead, but bump into a figure. “Going somewhere?” Another man vocalizes from behind you. Your heart thumps against your chest, knowing no good was going to come from this situation. “We’ve seen you come down this way twice now. Not many girls like you ride through here.” The guy who blocked the front of your bike finally speaks with a gruff voice.

“Look… I don’t want any trouble. I’m just trying to get  back to work.” You tell the guys, attempting to maintain a calm composure. You didn’t want to look as afraid as you felt. They both laugh, sharing a look of amusement with each other. “Heard that, Yejun? She doesn’t want any trouble.”

“Guess she shouldn’t have come to Gongdan then.” 

You look between the two men, trying to come up with some course of action to get out of this predicament. You’re hardly able to make a move before you're suddenly snatched from the bike and being dragged into an alleyway. “Let go of me!” You scream, thrashing your body to get free. “She’s a feisty one, huh?” They simultaneously cackle. 

You notice that the rest of the men you’ve seen standing on the corner were in the alley as well. This was surely premeditated. You're roughly thrown to the ground, two men immediately taking action to pin your arms down before you could get up. “Get the fuck off of me!” You screech, kicking your legs. “Hey, Jiwon, hold her legs down.” One of the guys instructed. Your legs were suddenly held down; you were completely restrained, and at the mercy of these sick men. 

“Stop! Let go!” Another man is straddling you, pulling out a pocket knife. “Scream all you want, girl. You’re in Gongdan, no one’s gonna come to your rescue.” The man takes the pocket knife, cutting the top of your shirt. Your eyes flutter shut, tears rolling down your cheeks. ‘This can’t be happening… I can’t believe this is happening…’

“Don’t you peons have anything better to do?” A monotone voice speaks behind the men. The group turns around, coming face to face with none other than Yoongi. “Yo, it’s Agust D.” One of the guys holding down your arms whispered. ‘Agust D? Yoongi?’ You opened your eyes, lifting your head to see the raven leaned against the brick wall, his hands in his pockets as he eyed the men. 

“Get off her and get the fuck out of here.” He says in a calm, but warning tone. The stoic look on his face unwavered. All the men spared glances with one another, mulling over the threat. The guy with the pocket knife nods, flipping the blade closed before climbing off of you. The men released you, dipping off down the other end of the alley, avoiding Yoongi at all cost. You were surprised they actually listened to him, seeing as there were more of them than there were of Yoongi. He must really strike fear into people’s hearts. 

You sit up from the ground, staring down at your ripped shirt in embarrassment. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling. Yoongi approaches your shaken figure, crouching down to your level. You look up at him, and the raven tilts his head slightly. “So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept a ride today?” 

You sigh, slowly nodding your head. You didn’t think you could ride back on the bike after this. Yoongi stands up, extending a hand for you to take. You stare at this hand, your mind only thinking about all the blood that’s probably covered it once before. “C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta get back to work, don’t you?” 

You hesitantly take his hand, letting the raven pull you up to your feet. “H-how did you know I was back here?” You ask him curiously. “I saw your bike.”

‘Yeah right, you were following me…’

With your hand still in his, Yoongi leads you to his black Nissan Sentra. He opens the passenger door for you, and you climb in. The raven rounds the other side of the car, grabbing your bike from the bike lane. He opens the back door, adjusting his seats so he could fit the bike in. “That’s as good as it’s gonna get.” He mumbles, shutting the back door. 

He finally climbs into the driver’s seat, slamming his car door close. You sit quietly as the car peels off. “Are you hurt? Did they–” 

“Can we just not talk and sit in silence?” You cut him off. As if this jerk really cared about you. It’s his fault you were at the devil’s playground in the first place. The raven nods marginally, sitting in silence per your request. As the two of you kept the peace, your eyes ever so slightly peered over to him. “You know,” you started. “This is all your fault,” Yoongi smiles as though he knew you weren’t going to keep quiet. That just didn’t seem like your style. “If you hadn’t called me down here again, I wouldn’t have been assaulted.”

“So much for silence.” He chuckled.

“You think because you're a self proclaimed bad boy, with a horrific rep, and a cute smile that girls are supposed to fall at your feet. Well, I refuse to be one of them, okay? So, give it up.” The raven now has his eyes on you, a grin on his face as if he enjoyed your little outburst. “You done now, sweetheart? Did you get it all off your chest?” You huffed, looking out of the window. “Good.” The car goes mute again,  and you gently bite down on your bottom lip. You wanted to ask the raven questions that had been on your mind since you met him, but you were afraid of his reaction. You decide to take the risk anyway, considering your circumstances.

“Is it true what people say about you?” 

Yoongi quirks a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, princess. People say a lot of things about me.” You look away from the window, facing the man of many names. “Have you… killed people before?” You watch Yoongi’s facial expression change; it’s serious, dark. “If I’ve killed people do you really think I’d tell you?” 

You shrug. “Probably not, but If you haven’t it would be a simple no.” The raven looks over at you, his eyes boring into yours. “No. I haven’t.” 

One would feel relieved upon hearing that, but for some reason you didn’t quite believe him. Not with the way people seemed to stop breathing at his very presence.

Yoongi pulls up in front of Makoto, getting out of the car first to wedge your bike from his backseat. You open your door, following suit as you move around the car to take the bike from the raven. He closes the car door, leaning his back against it. The two of you stand in silence for a moment before you let out a deep sigh. “Thanks… for getting those guys off of me. Even though it’s your fault.” You mutter the last sentence. Yoongi smiles. “Don’t mention it, Princess. Maybe you can thank me in another way sometime.” 

He pushes himself off of the car, pulling open his driver’s door. “You got something wrong about me yesterday in your little autobiography,” Yoongi stops, raising an eyebrow at you. “Jungkook isn’t my boyfriend. Yet.” You inform him. The raven hums. “Noted. That makes this even easier.” 

“Easier?” You deride. “You really think you have a chance with me, don’t you?” 

Yoongi shakes his head. “I don’t think I do, I know I do. You called my smile cute, remember? Pretty sure I’ve already got you.” He flashes a cocky smile your way before climbing into his car. The raven looks at you one last time before driving away, and you watch as the car flies down the road, disappearing from your sight. 

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[jimxnslight]

Fool's Gold || Part II

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), very vague indication of past sexual assault, additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

A/N: thank you guys so much for all the love you gave the first part, it means so much to me 🥺 Hope you enjoy this chapter too (Y/N and Jungkook bicker for like half of it 💀)

<< previous part || masterlist || next part >>

It was supposed to be simple. 

You kill Jungkook, breaking up the alliance between the Lees and the Jeons, blame his murder on a rival mafia, and then be on your merry way back to your father’s home before you could be caught up in the chaos you’d have started. Sure it hadn’t been the most complex of plans you’ve come up with, you hardly had the time to map out a plan like that anyway, but sometimes simple was all one needed. 

Unfortunately, this had clearly not been one of those times. 

The problem was Jungkook. Your first husband had been an idiot and completely fooled by your featherbrained facade, so much so that even after you’d stolen the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest he’d stared at you like you’d grown two heads. He just couldn’t comprehend the fact that a seemingly frivolous girl could have the courage to pull the trigger. Even after what he’d tried to do to you. After he almost-

You felt a shudder sweep across your spine.

But Jungkook was different. He had been assessing you the second you appeared before him during the wedding ceremony and, even though he had seemed to take in your carefully crafted performance, his gaze still refused to complete its assessment. At first you thought it was just lust -most men in the mafia couldn’t seem to be rid of that tenacious emotion- however, the lack of sexual initiation on his part despite being alone together in his room made you realise that perhaps Jungkook was a lot less like the mafia leaders you had grown up with than you realised. 

For one, he was scarily observant, and it was this skill that had ultimately led to the downfall of your assassination attempt. 

A huff escaped your lips at the thought, your hands continuing to expertly manoeuvre two pins inside the lock of the door you were currently crouched in front of. You had stayed sat on Jungkook’s bed the entire night, too wary to even attempt sleeping in the bedroom that was entirely unfamiliar to you. You half expected Jungkook to sneak into the room while you were out cold and enact a fitting revenge; you’d be unable to even blame him, you’d tried to kill the man after all. But Jungkook hadn’t left the mystery room all night, only emerging once the clock had struck 7 in the morning to wordlessly grab a black coat from the top of his dresser and disappear behind the front door with nothing but a single, hasty glance in your direction. 

Your brow had raised as you watched him get into his black car and drive off through the window, wondering how he could just leave you unattended in his home after the threat you had dropped near the end of your conversation earlier. Sure he probably had people monitoring his house at all times, but there was still a lot you could get done in front of people that wouldn’t suspect the girl with fluffy dresses and doe eyes to be much of a threat. 

Luckily for him though, you were beyond tired, and that meant that his absence was just a window of opportunity to get some actual rest without the constant fear of his retaliation keeping you awake. So following a long yawn, you had naturally felt yourself drift towards the bed, eyeing the soft duvet and fluffy pillows sleepily. But then, before you could lose yourself to the comfort of his mattress, your curious gaze had slowly wandered to the door Jungkook had disappeared behind last night and, next thing you knew, you were crouched in front of its gold lock and jabbing two pins into its keyhole. 

Your focus snapped back to the door before you as a familiar click sounded from the lock, causing it to swing open just a few centimetres. You pocketed the two pins, muttering a small “finally...” while your fingers wrapped around the gold handle. But before you could push it open, the muffled sound of an object dropping suddenly startled you. You whirled around, eyes immediately scanning the bedroom with intense precision as your hand grabbed the closest thing to you: a vase. Had someone managed to get into the room without you knowing? Perhaps you weren’t as observant as Jungkook seemed to be, but you’ve never been so absentminded that you could’ve been this caught off guard-

“Oh my god,” you gasped abruptly, a recollection surfacing as you quickly placed the vase back on the bedside table and scurried over to the closet. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten something so important… She must have been waiting in there the entire night.

You hastily threw open the closet door, gaze scanning the space until it finally fell on a small shadow peeking from behind the white and fawn island. The black shadow stood still for a moment, as if identifying the intruder, before the familiar cat sauntered out of the small space, black fur gleaming under the light. She looked up at you with an expression that eerily resembled a scowl. 

“Hi Persilla,” you cooed, crouching down to run a hand apologetically through the creature’s fur. Persilla evaded it at first, almost punishing you for forgetting her in the small, dark walk-in closet for the entire night, but eventually she gave in, purring as she brushed her soft tail against your still bare legs. While you could understand being stuck in a place like that for hours might’ve been slightly uncomfortable, she really had no right to act like that after how damn hard it had been to have her smuggled into Jungkook’s house without alerting anyone. It had been a huge risk, one that you might have a little trouble justifying, but you swear there was just something calming about her presence and you needed that desperately, especially in such a foreign place. 

“I failed to kill him,” you frowned, watching as Persilla’s feline eyes raised to watch you, “which means we’re going to have to stay here a little longer than I thought.”

You pulled yourself from the floor, shifting your focus back to Jungkook’s mystery room as you felt a pang of irritation hit you. You needed Jungkook dead, the delay in his death getting in the way of everything you’ve been working towards. Yet here you were now, stuck in the house you thought you wouldn’t be spending more than a night in. 

You cautiously walked over to the door you’d lock picked earlier, taking special care not to step on Persilla as she skittered between your feet, before grabbing the handle and pushing it open. The room turned out to be a seemingly simple office, which you found unsurprising for the most part. There was a wall full of books on one side, a glass cabinet of liquor wedged between its centre, while another wall was made up entirely of glass that showed off an enormous portion of Jungkook’s estate. It was the large desk to your right that really caught your attention, the sight of a map sprawled over its smooth surface particularly piquing your interest. 

You walked towards the glass cabinet first, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to pour yourself a drink, before you walked over to the desk and glanced at the map curiously. Persilla jumped onto the surface, circling the piece of paper like a predator surveying its prey. 

“It’s a map of the North,” you noted, taking a sip of the drink in your hand momentarily as you recognised the illustration instantly. You’d spend months studying a similar map back home before marrying Jungkook after all.

Handmade lines ran throughout the northern portion of the country, separating the territories run by different mafia leaders. You recognised Jungkook’s territory first, one of the bigger ones in the region, while Taehyung’s was right next to his, both of which were detailed with the locations of different landmarks: docks, hotels, residential areas, etc. You noticed that the other territories hadn’t been labelled like that, with the territory above Jungkook’s labelled “Park Territory” simply containing one or two locations and the territory labelled “Min Territory” containing no locations. There was a region above those two territories that hadn’t even been labelled at all, similar to your own map of the North back at home. 

“Aside from Taehyung’s territory, Jungkook doesn’t seem to know much about the northern region. I guess we’re similar in that aspect,” you muttered, speaking to Persilla as if you were giving her a report of the current situation. She turned towards you, tilting her head for a moment before she nudged the corner of the paper with her paw. You narrowed your gaze at the action, deciding to flip the paper. To your surprise there was another map, this time illustrating the southern portion of the country; the one where your father’s territory, the Lees, was situated and where you’d grown up your entire life. 

You smiled at Persilla, scratching under her chin while she purred in delight at the attention. What would you do without her?

It was surprising to see this map so much more detailed than the first, you thought, taking another sip of the whiskey in your hand. While Taehyung’s territory had been the only one littered with details in the northern region, all the territories in the South were full of details upon details. You could make out each one labelled with its respective mafia leader, a number of important locations, and even predictions about possible actions each leader might take in the future, all of which you could confirm to be highly accurate.

You flipped the map back to how it had been initially, gaze raising to move onto scanning the rest of the room while Persilla dropped to the floor quietly.

“How could Jungkook know so little about the northern region, yet so much about the South?” You thought out loud, tracking Persilla’s movements as she began pacing around the room. He was clearly great at collecting intel, the amount of information he had on the southern region was evidence of that, yet the North, his own region, was practically blank aside from Taehyung’s territory. Having grown up in the southern region yourself, you knew it better than the back of your hand. So if Jungkook had grown up in the North, how could he know so little about it? Was there some kind of history between the mafias in the North? 

Like your thoughts, you began absentmindedly drifting towards the enormous bookshelf, fingers brushing against the hardcover spines. 

If there really was history between the northern mafias, then knowing that history could be useful. Once you killed Jungkook and blamed his death on Park Jimin, there would be war between the Jeons and the Parks, and since the Kims and Mins are allied with the Jeons and Parks, respectively, it would be a full on war of the North. It’s that kind of instability you were aiming for, but knowing the more personal history of the northern mafias might help you create further tensions between the alliances, making things even more unstable. It would be perfect; the messier the better. That’s what your ultimate plan called for. That’s how you’ll finally-

You suddenly came to an abrupt stop, your fingers freezing as they came in contact with a particular book. It was a hardcover, just like the others, entirely black aside from the title, which had been written in bright gold, and the off-white pages. 

Persilla was back to skittering between your ankles once again, as if sensing the change in your thoughts. Her soft, black tail brushed against your bare legs as you delicately brought out the book with both your hands, wide eyes scanning it almost in disbelief. 

The Choice of a Nation.

It was the book that had changed your life. A fictitious book about a protagonist that lived in a world of human rights, justice, and structure. A world where everyone, more or less, was defined by their achievements and hard work rather than who they were born to. 

Reality was far from that. It was an enormous country cut up into territories based on which mafia leader ruled it. It was having to grow up watching innocent people be slaughtered because of petty disputes between said mafia leaders. It was watching people from mafia families be automatically rich and educated and powerful while people born to those under their rule automatically be poor, uneducated, and stepped on again and again and again. You were taught that this way of living was normal, that it was the only way of living in this world. 

Reality was something you’ve always found difficult to come to terms with because of this, because despite being taught the normalcy of such a way of living, it never seemed right to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of people’s entire lives being dependent on who they were born to, something that wasn’t in their control. If you were born a servant, you and the rest of your generations would stay servants forever. If you were born a mafia leader, you and your future generations would stay in power forever. Your sentiments made you feel alien when you realised no one else around you seemed to share the same thoughts, so much so that you started wondering that perhaps you really were being too unrealistic. 

But then came The Choice of a Nation, a book that introduced to you concepts like governments and elections and courts. It was all entirely fiction, every term having to be explained in great detail to be understandable, but all that mattered to you was that it was doable. Having different levels of governments, having a justice system that judged everyone fairly no matter who they were, and having the people decide who they want leading them. It was realistic. 

And you’re convinced that the mafia families knew it too, because despite its fictitious nature, the book was immediately banned the second it was published, while its author had been killed just as quickly. You yourself had only gotten your hands on the book out of sheer dumb luck. Distantly you wondered how and why Jungkook had this copy. 

After that you had become dead set on making the book’s world a reality. But in order for things to go as you’ve planned, you need things to be unstable, because unstable things are weak. The South has always been like that, with mafia leaders constantly at each other’s throats. You doubt any of them even know what the word ‘alliance’ even means. It was perfect for you. 

The North, on the other hand, was a bit different. There were two alliances and the most northern region was a complete mystery to you. At first, you were stumped with how you were going to weaken the region, but then the opportunity had presented itself when your father had announced your hasty marriage to Jungkook. And once again, it was perfect. 

All you needed was Jungkook to be dead, and the rest would fall in place just like you’d planned. 

A meowing noise suddenly sounded from your feet, causing you to look down and find Persilla standing on her hind legs, her front paws brushing against your bare shins repeatedly. Her impatience was clear as day, making you smile. 

“You’re right, that’s enough snooping for today I think,” you nodded, running a hand over her small head while the other clutched the book firmly, “you deserve some expensive salmon for being such a good girl.”

As if she understood your words, Persilla dropped to the floor and purred, rubbing her furry body against your ankle. You gave the room one last look, as if expecting to find something else worth surveying, but ultimately decided you were way too tired from your all-nighter to continue on. 

-

-

-

At this point in his life, Jungkook could say with certainty that he was a pretty patient man. He wasn’t born with the trait, if anything impatience seemed to have been stitched well into his personality the second he’d entered this world. But, over time, he’d learned to get rid of the pesky trait and replace it with the much more effective and fruitful quality that was patience. 

Yet, not even all those years of cultivating the characteristic could have prepared him for how late Kim Taehyung was. 

Jungkook had been standing at the West docks, hands in the pockets of his long, black coat, since 8:00 AM in the morning, waiting almost 4 hours for his friend with furrowed brows and an unimpressed frown. He’d left the house as early as appropriately possible, partly because of your presence and partly because of the urgency in addressing the dock’s issue. Now it was almost noon and Taehyung, who’d promised to be here by 9:00 AM was still nowhere in sight. 

An annoyed sigh escaped his lips as he felt the ocean air breeze through the nearly black strands of his hair. Taehyung being late had given him more time to think about earlier this morning, when he’d shot you a glance before he was out the front door. You looked like you hadn’t slept a wink, which Jungkook could relate to, but he supposed that was for the best. You’d threatened to kill him at the end of your conversation last night, so having you sleep deprived would probably work in his favour. 

Not that you could really do anything anyway. Jungkook had made sure to set guards in every entrance to the kitchen and stripped the house of every weapon that wasn’t locked in a hefty safe. There was no way you could get your hands on any kind of gun or knife, so he was pretty confident that you couldn’t be a threat to him at the moment. Though, the memory of your fiery eyes from last night had seemed so determined…

“What are you smirking about?” Taehyung asked as he strolled along the boardwalk, making his way towards the younger man. 

Jungkook’s scowl instantly returned, causing Taehyung to raise his hands in surrender, “it took Chaewon and I a whole hour to get Suho to bed, who’s also sick by the way. Cut me some slack, man.”

“I told you guys to stay over at my place and not some hotel,” Jungkook chastised, feeling bad for the little guy. He made a note to send some sweets to their hotel room when he got back, “the maid could have helped you guys out.”

“The newlyweds deserve to have the house to themselves,” Taehyung waved him off before he smirked, “besides, I didn’t know how freaky you guys were going to get and I couldn’t risk Suho hearing, he’s way too young for that stuff.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, motioning for Taehyung to start following him. They started walking along the boardwalk, Jungkook’s hands still shoved into his coat’s pockets while Taehyung’s were covered in black leather gloves. 

“Okay,” Taehyung said, “I’m just going to ask one question, and then we’ll drop it and you can explain this whole dock’s situation to me.”

That earned him a raised brow, but the lack of the younger’s refusal spurred him on. 

“What do you think of her?”

Jungkook didn’t answer for a moment, mulling over his reply before he finally answered. 

“She’s fine.”

He didn’t know why he wasn’t telling Taehyung the truth about you, about how your entire ditzy personality was a front and about how hellbent you were on killing him to get a divorce. Maybe it was because he didn’t really see the need to. Jungkook had concluded that you were only trying to kill him because you wanted a divorce, allowing you to go back to whichever boyfriend was waiting for you back in the south. 

“Your words are saying she’s fine, but your face is saying you’re mad,” Taehyung noted with a brow raised. But Jungkook waved him off, ready to end this conversation and get onto more important business. 

“Anyways, as you know, the Parks decided to attack the West docks last week,” Jungkook began, pointing towards his left to show Taehyung the damage sustained. One of the enormous warehouses, which collectively formed a neat line leading farther than his eye could decipher, had caved into itself, its walls charred almost entirely. The two warehouses by its side seemed more salvageable, with only a wall or two affected by the evident fire that had taken place. Construction workers could already be seen surrounding the area, hard at work to replace the damaged structures. 

Taehyung nodded as he took in the scene, “an attack at the docks… they’re checking to see how strong the Jeons are at the moment.”

“They’re doing it because they want to know if they can take over our territory.”

That was the standard protocol after all. When a mafia attacks another mafia’s docks, it’s usually because they want to test how weak or strong they are and whether they can take them over or not. The fact that the Parks pulled something like this right after their alliance with the Mins was no coincidence to Jungkook. 

But to his surprise, Taehyung paused, as if mulling over Jungkook’s words. He watched Taehyung’s gaze drift over to the vast sea on their right, a contemplative look shadowing over his eyes before they flickered back to Jungkook. 

“Is that really what you think Jimin is doing?” 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowned, “this is the textbook procedure for taking over another territory.”

When Taehyung didn’t answer him, Jungkook placed a hand in front of his chest, blocking his path so the two could stand facing each other as they spoke.

“I’m just saying,” Taehyung finally explained, “it seems a bit out of character for him. Wasn’t he always the one that was going on about how dumb it is to want to take over other territories instead of cultivating your own?”

Jungkook scoffed, “yeah, in university, which was years ago. Jimin has changed since then.”

Taehyung’s lips formed a grim line at the animosity in his voice. 

“Look, I know you both-”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off quickly, knowing exactly where this conversation was going, “this isn’t the hatred from what happened years ago talking. Jimin has changed, and I have the evidence to prove it.”

Jungkook turned around to resume his earlier path, Taehyung walking slowly behind him as they passed by the workers sighing in relief at the cool breeze of the ocean and large ships anchored alongside the piers. In a matter of minutes, Jungkook had led him to the entrance of an enormous warehouse. Taehyung’s brows furrowed when Jungkook turned around to face him, a grim expression washing over his strong features. 

“When the Parks attacked the docks last week, I managed to prevent them from seizing control of it by bringing out some old blackmail. Obviously I didn’t think it would hold them off for long if their plan really is to take over my territory, but I didn’t expect them to retaliate so soon,” Jungkook explained, “nor did I expect them to retaliate in this way.”

He turned back to face the warehouse's door, hand wrapping around its handle, “the night before my wedding, I was called to the docks because some of the worker’s had found something in this warehouse.”

Then he turned the handle and pushed the door wide open, revealing its inside.

“This is what I found.”

It was awful. 

The entire warehouse was full of dead bodies, some thrown haphazardly on the ground while others were thrown over the equipment spanning the room. Taehyung could make out bodies of men, women, and even some children -he couldn’t look at them for too long without thinking of his own son- all of which had clearly been killed in varying ways. Some looked like they had been burned, while others looked like they’d been thrown into a blender. Being in the mafia, Taehyung was no stranger to blood and gore, but this… this was too much, even for him. 

But then his gaze caught onto a wall in the far corner of the warehouse, particularly the sight of dried blood smeared against the grey metal. He took in each stroke of red, processing each letter it had been made to resemble until he could read what had been written. 

“‘We’re coming,’” Jungkook read out loud, keeping his stoic gaze fixed on Taehyung. 

He shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, “I knew Yoongi was brutal, but I never could have expected he’d be capable of… this.”

Jungkook’s gaze drifted around the room, grimacing at the scene before him. 

“Jimin and Yoongi clearly aren’t who they used to be,” he concluded, looking towards Taehyung for confirmation. Thankfully, Taehyung nodded this time, gaze becoming hard as he agreed without protest. 

“Well, they’ve warned us that they’re coming,” he said, gesturing towards the bloody message, “what are we going to do about it?”

Jungkook motioned for Taehyung to follow him back outside, where the air didn’t smell like death and the sights didn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with one of the unaffiliated gangs located in the West in about an hour. As long as we pay them well, they’ll do just about anything for us. Having extra manpower should tip the odds in our favour. Not to mention, I’ll make good use of the Lees.”

Taehyung nodded as he watched Jungkook close the door of the warehouse, “are you going to contact Jimin first?”

“No,” he shook his head, beginning to walk back to the parking lot alongside Taehyung, “I’ve had a headcount done and it doesn’t seem like any of the people in the warehouse were one of ours. I think the Parks were just trying to send a message to scare us.”

“I’ll get a headcount done for my people too just in case,” Taehyung said, to which Jungkook agreed. 

Once they had made it back to the parking lot, Taehyung turned to face him.

“I was thinking of heading back to my territory tonight, since I have a few things I need to take care of,” he explained, opening the door of his bright orange car before leaning against it casually, “but Chaewon wanted to have a late lunch or dinner with the bride and groom before we left. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jungkook’s interest piqued as a thought suddenly came to mind. This would be a good opportunity to assess how you and him were going to act like a couple in front of others. If the two of you failed, it would be fine since it was just Taehyung and Chaewon, two people that he trusted with his life. Then you and him could learn from the experience and hopefully get it together before having to make any public appearances. 

“Does 6 work?” He asked, to which Taehyung nodded. 

The two then exchanged quick goodbyes, Taehyung explaining that he should probably get back as soon as possible to get things in order, before Jungkook watched as he got into his car and drove off, standing for a few minutes until someone came to stand behind him. 

“Sir?”

He turned to find a man bowing in his direction, waiting for permission to speak. Jungkook motioned for him to go on, already getting an idea of what this was about. 

“Our informant within the Lees just contacted us,” he explained, “he said that Lee Y/N’s father believes his daughter to be a frivolous and naive girl, her sole purpose being to marry someone that will benefit the Lees.”

Jungkook nodded at the news. So you had been telling the truth when you said that you’d fooled everyone, including your father, with your performance… Distantly he wondered why you would decide to resort to such an act. 

“Have there been any talks of betraying this alliance?” Jungkook asked, to which the man shook his head. 

“The informant said there were none. Lee Y/N’s father seems dependent on this alliance to protect himself from neighbouring mafias. The South is quite unsettled in that aspect.”

“I see, and have there been any talks of Y/N having some sort of significant other in the Lee territory?”

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment, “the informant said that there weren’t really any talks of that… but he did mention that before your marriage, when Lee Y/N was still living in the Lee territory, he’d accidentally overheard a hushed phone conversation she’d had in her bedroom. He couldn’t make out what they had been talking about, but he was able to confirm that the voice on the other line was male. The informant hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but since you’re asking now, he decided it would be safer to let you know just in case.”

It could have been anyone, hell, you could have been talking to a relative or something, but Jungkook’s mind went straight to his initial theory. It made sense, especially considering you wanted a divorce so badly. He couldn’t really think of any other reason besides your heart already belonging to someone else… even though you were his wife. 

“Sir? Was there anything else?” The man asked, causing Jungkook to reel in his scowl.

“Contact Lee Y/N’s father and schedule a meeting with him as soon as he can,” Jungkook said, “that’s all, thank you.”

The man bowed, instantly scurrying away from sight to get to the assigned task, while Jungkook turned to start making his way to his car. 

For some reason, his mood had suddenly soured. 

-

-

-

“So we finally get to meet the famous Y/N.”

You smiled shyly as you walked into the grand dining hall, automatically taking in the spiralling chandelier, marble floor, and dark brown dining table filled with formal decoration pieces. Only after this assessment did you let your gaze fall on the two sitting on the dining chairs; the first one you already knew to be Taehyung, who was dressed in a rich grey suit, while the other was a woman -you automatically assumed she was Taehyung’s wife considering the maid had told you you’d be dining with the two today. 

She had been the one that had spoken, but the first thing you noticed when your eyes landed on her was that she was gorgeous. Her straight, long black hair and hazel eyes sparkled under the glittering light of the chandelier overhead, while her dark maroon dress fit elegantly into the rich ambience of the room.

As she stood from her seat, you felt yourself automatically tense. Back in the South, the wives of mafia leaders were always vicious and constantly at each other's throats, a reflection of their husbands’ animosity towards each other. Now that you were married, you supposed you’d have to be subjected to the same, but the only difference was that your ditzy facade would bar you from being able to fight back. Whatever Taehyung’s wife threw at you, you’d have to take it. 

But after she made her way towards you, her actions as smooth as silk, you were surprised when she pulled you in for a quick and formal embrace. 

“The wedding was absolutely beautiful,” she praised, even the flow of her voice silk-like, “and of course your dress, it was exquisite! You must tell me the designer you went with- or perhaps it was all just your figure. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

For a moment all you could do was stare at her; this woman… she was being so… nice. Too nice, if you were being honest. It was a little unnerving, instantly making you sceptical of her intentions. Perhaps the wives of northern mafia leaders were more cunning in the way they sniped at each other? They greeted each other politely during occasions, but behind the scenes they would attack each other to obtain what they wanted? But then again, what could anyone possibly want from you? To them you were just some featherbrained girl that dressed like a fancy pastel tablecloth. 

You’d decided to still dress the part this evening, with a fluffy light pink dress that fell right at your knees and a matching silk ribbon tied into a bow pulling up half your hair, even if you didn’t know for sure how much Jungkook would have revealed to Taehyung. You had the feeling that Jungkook wouldn’t tell him anything, since it would work in his favour having the least amount of people knowing, but you’ve also heard how close the two men were so it wouldn’t entirely surprise you if he had.

Taehyung certainly was staring at you like he knew your secret. Unlike his wife, he stayed seated at the dining table, offering you a polite greeting from there instead, but you could recognise the calculating nature of his gaze as clear as day. He was assessing your every movement as you interacted with his wife, which made you straighten up. It wouldn’t be the biggest deal if he did know, because who would believe him if he went around spreading that kind of news, but if he didn’t, then you would have to up the quality of your act. 

“Has Jungkook told you anything about us?” Taehyung’s wife asked as she took the seat next to her husband once again, while you decided to take the seat across from her, “ah- who am I kidding? You’ve only been here a night. I’m Chaewon and this is Taehyung, he’s the leader of the Kims.”

You nodded, making sure to keep your voice light and airy, “you’re pretty.”

She tried to hide it well, but the comment had Chaewon’s eyes flickering to her husband for a moment. It was better that you started dropping a dumb comment here and there to really seal the ‘dumb as rocks’ trait. 

Chaewon quickly recovered from the surprise, letting out a breathy chuckle, “you’re sweet, but you’re so pretty yourself. I love the light sparkles you’ve added to your lids, it’s such a subtle but dainty thing.”

Her tone was so formal that you couldn’t tell if she was passively mocking you or not. You would’ve preferred she just pull a gun on you or something; it would be way less confusing than sitting here and trying to read between the lines of her words. Confrontational individuals were dangerous, but individuals who planned their strikes in the shadows were the real threats. You’d know that best.

At that moment, before you could reply with an even dumber comment, the sound of the door opening caught everyone’s attention. You turned just to catch Jungkook closing the door behind him, his hair slightly damp, likely from a shower, and dressed in a simple black collar shirt tucked into matching black dress pants. He paused at the doorway, scanning the room for a moment until his eyes dropped on you.

Your brows furrowed when he held your gaze for a second longer than normal, a hidden question in your expression. He looked almost thoughtful, an idea clearly waltzing through his mind, before he finally started making his way towards the three of you. 

You thought that was the end of the odd moment, and that Jungkook would finally initiate a conversation with the other two sitting at the table as he pulled out the chair next to you. But just as he was about to settle into the soft cushion, he stalled for a second, turned to face you…

And then placed a quick peck on your cheek.

You froze, shock making your limbs rigid as you used every bit of your self control to stop yourself from instinctively flinching at the action. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jungkook apologised as he casually plopped down into his seat, gaze fixing on the couple before you. 

But Chaewon smiled, a graceful hand going to her chest. 

“Aww look at how flustered she looks, aren’t they just adorable, Taehyung?” She said with a smile. Your hands instantly went to your cheeks, annoyed to find them burning underneath your palms. 

Before you could think much of it though, the servers started spilling into the room to place steaming plates of food before you all. This evening’s menu seemed to be seafood themed, with plates of crab, lobster, and shrimp filling the initially empty surface of the dark dining table. It made sense to you, considering almost half of Jungkook’s territory bordered the ocean. 

Once the plates had been placed, a server stepped beside you, bringing out a bottle of red wine to pour into the empty glass beside your plate. But you brought up a hand to stop him. 

“Not a fan of wine, Y/N?” Chaewon asked as she noticed the gesture, and once again the ambiguity in her formal tone made it hard to tell whether she was mocking you or not. 

You shook her head in response, “I don’t like alcohol, it tastes gross.”

Yes, ditzy Y/N didn’t like alcohol, but the real Y/N was seriously craving that expensive whiskey you knew Jungkook had stashed in his office at this very moment. He clearly had good taste, it was a shame you’d had to drop a gram of lethal toxin into the bottle before you’d left the room and passed out on Jungkook’s bed for nearly two hours. You scowled inwardly as you remembered how much more you could have slept had it not been for the maid who had woken you up to give you a tour of the house and then helped you get ready for the early dinner you and Jungkook were supposed to have with Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I apologise ma’am, is there anything else I can interest you in instead?” The server asked, moving the bottle of wine away from your glass. You mused over your answer for a moment, before you smiled up at him.

“I’d like some banana milk, please.”

Once again, Chaewon subtly threw an unreadable look towards Taehyung, but this time she wasn’t alone as Taehyung and Jungkook each threw their own odd looks in your direction at the wildly childish choice. Back when you first started acting naive your reaction would have consisted of an intense feeling of embarrassment washing over you, but now the others’ reactions only seemed to amuse you. Although, you were inwardly groaning at how gross having seafood alongside milk was going to be. But the show had to go on, didn’t it?

Taehyung cleared his throat when the server returned with a wine glass filled with banana milk -you had to pinch your arm to stop yourself from laughing at that- before he turned to face Jungkook, eager to break the awkward silence that had ensued. 

“I hope you both enjoyed your wedding present, Chaewon spent so long on making that gift basket I thought it was going to be for your one year anniversary,” he joked, causing Chaewon to playfully slap his shoulder. 

“I just wanted it to be nice,” she defended instantly, “we’ve known Jungkook for years, seeing him get married makes me feel like a proud older sister.”

It was such a contrasting sight seeing two mafia families be so fond and at ease with each other when you’d grown up seeing the southern mafia families at each other’s throats constantly. Chaewon seemed so comfortable here, and even though Taehyung was mostly quiet -you were starting to think he was trying to decipher the relationship between you and Jungkook with the way he kept staring back and forth between you two- even he didn’t seem to be guarded despite being in another mafia leader’s territory. 

“We enjoyed the basket, thank you,” Jungkook said, bringing your focus back to the conversation. You watched him lean back in his seat as his gaze drifted to you, the ghost of an amused look haunting his features, “the champagne particularly was quite the ice breaker.”

You’d tried to kill him using that bottle and yet here he was practically mocking you about it not even 24 hours later. You threw him a sweet smile, as if you were reliving a fond memory, hoping he would pick up on the hidden glare in your gaze. But that only made his grin widen. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Chaewon clapped, not seeming to pick up on the tension between you both, “I wasn’t aware of your distaste for alcohol though, Y/N. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the future.”

You faced her with what you hoped was a grateful smile, “it’s okay, I really liked the scented candles.”

It had actually been Persilla that had been obsessed with them, the vanilla scented one seeming to be her favourite. 

The dining room was mostly quiet following that, the four of you finishing up your food in a comfortable silence. Inwardly you were gagging at the combination of shrimp and banana milk you’d decided to torment yourself with. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, every few minutes or so you’d catch Jungkook trying to suppress a sly grin, the man being the only one in the room, to your knowledge at least, who knew the reality of your predicament. You scowled, annoyed by his satisfaction until an idea came to mind. 

Well, you could always hit two birds with one stone. 

You reached over your plate to grab your glass of banana milk, bringing it towards yourself to give the impression that you were going to drink from it. But at the last moment, you let the bottom of the glass catch on your plate, causing the entire thing to tip from your fingers. It clattered onto the table, splashing all over Jungkook’s plate and seated form, making him flinch. 

You instantly gasped dramatically, hands going to cover your mouth and eyes widening as you squeaked, “I’m so sorry!”

With Taehyung and Chaewon’s focus shifting to the spill on the table, the roll of Jungkook’s eyes went unnoticed by them. 

“It’s okay, it was only an accident,” he forced out, pushing his chair away from the table’s edge and widening his thighs to evade the rest of the milk. You had to hide your smile behind your hands as you watched the no doubt cold milk seep into his pants. 

Taehyung picked up the box of napkins, which had been near his plate, and held it out to the younger man, causing Jungkook to stretch over the table to receive it. But just as Jungkook grabbed the box, you noticed Taehyung’s brows suddenly furrow, his eyes seeming to stay fixed at a particular spot on Jungkook’s neck. 

You followed his gaze curiously. The first few buttons of Jungkook’s black shirt had been undone, revealing a sliver of his collarbone and chest, but as Jungkook stretched you noticed the fabric shift to expose more of the area, which you realised was covered in red patches that looked a lot like… hickies. You and Taehyung weren’t the only ones that caught this as you noticed Chaewon smirk, her gaze travelling between you both. 

Jungkook himself was the last to notice the stares as he pressed some tissues against the wet material of his pants, most of which was prominent on his lap. Yet when he did notice them, even you knew that Taehyung and Chaewon’s questioning looks wouldn’t allow for him to get out of this without an explanation. 

You expected him to wave them off with a lame excuse anyway, like it was a rash or he’d burned himself somehow. You could call Jungkook many things, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that enjoyed making suggestive jokes or conversation. Nor did he seem like the kind of guy to divulge in his sexual escapades. 

But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead he paused, similar to earlier when he had entered the room, and seemed to think something over. Then his gaze dropped on you, and the mischief in his eyes gave you the odd feeling that you should prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

You should have listened to that feeling. 

Jungkook broke his eye contact with you, his lips twitching into what suspiciously seemed like a smirk, before he turned to face Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I guess Y/N got a bit carried away earlier.”

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped open as Chaewon gasped, her hands instantly going to her chest as if she couldn’t believe it. From your peripheral vision you could make out Taehyung slumping against the back of his chair, as if he had finally given up on trying to figure the two of you out. 

“Y/N! I would have never guessed you were the freaky type,” Chaewon laughed, her gaze seeming to take you in a different light. Your hands curled into fists under the table. 

Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing by dropping a comment like that, and you were far from stupid enough not to see it. By insinuating that there was a more suggestive side of you, he was slowly starting to break down your performance of an innocent girl capable of doing no wrong in the eyes of others. 

You’d promised to kill him, and now he’d seemingly decided he wanted to kill the image you’d spent years cultivating. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as Jungkook’s hand hooked under your chair to drag it towards him, allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulder when he was close enough. Even in the midst of your subdued anger you noticed just how close the sharp cut of his jawline was in this position, and not to mention the tiny mole under his bottom lip that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“It’s okay, princess,” he said, sounding sweet but you knew it was meant to be mocking, “you don’t have to be shy in front of them.”

You were going to kill him. You were going to shoot him so many times that by the time you were done with him he was going to look like a giant block of swiss cheese-

“Well, we should probably get going,” Taehyung said suddenly, his eyes focused on reading something on his phone before pocketing the device, “I think Suho is starting to get fussy again, plus we should get going if we want to get back home before it gets too dark.”

Taehyung offered a hand to Chaewon to help her get up from her seat, a classy smile gracing her lips as her gaze met yours, “that’s our son by the way. You must meet him the next time we meet.”

“I would love to. I love children,” you said with a tight smile as you and Jungkook got up from your seats, exchanging polite pleasantries all the way to the front door.

“You know, that’s not very surprising to me,” Chaewon commented while Taehyung looped an arm around hers. You waved to each other with smiles, watching him guide her into an orange car before driving around the fountain and disappearing through the tall gates. 

The second the front door closed your smile dropped, replaced by an annoyed scowl that you threw in Jungkook’s direction. He regarded you as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know about the North, but in the South we have this thing called personal space. You should try it out some time,” you said, to which Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever seen a married couple have personal space? Really Y/N, must I explain the birds and the bees to you?

You huffed as he walked past you, climbing up the stairs casually while you started following behind him. 

“Why does it even matter if people know how dysfunctional this marriage is? We’re married, how is that not enough?”

It really did not make sense to you why he was so dead set on selling this image of a perfect marriage to others. Back in the South, there was not one marriage a mafia leader was a part of where it wasn’t in complete shambles, and that was very public knowledge to everyone in, and even outside of, the territory. Yet, that didn’t seem to affect the level of control or power the southern mafia leaders had. So why was Jungkook making it out to be such a big deal?

But the question stopped him in his tracks, causing him to turn around on the stairs to give you an incredulous look, as if what you had asked was almost alien. 

“I don’t know how it works in the South, but in the North it very much matters,” he said slowly, gaze fixed on yours, “we must present ourselves as perfect in every aspect of our lives, or there are a number of enemies that would have no problem taking advantage of even the most miniscule flaw.”

You scoffed, “that’s dumb.”

Jungkook turned away from you, not bothering to comment on the mindless remark, as he continued to resume his path up the stairs. When he finally made it to the top and walked up to his bedroom’s door, he pushed it open and walked inside. 

Your breath instantly stalled as you followed behind him, gaze darting around the room quickly to see if Persilla was anywhere in his sights. You knew you didn’t need to worry, Persilla was a master of remaining unseen, she’d managed to hide from everyone in the house when you’d been living in the South with your father after all. You’d even opened the door to the balcony slightly, allowing her to roam outside freely if she wanted to, so she might not have even been in the room anyway. You exhaled slowly, successful in convincing yourself that the little black cat you’d grown to care for and love would be fine. 

Jungkook’s breath, on the other hand, came out as a low huff when he noticed the balcony door ajar. He walked over to it quickly, closing it before giving you a chastising look. One you ignored obviously. 

Instead you casually turned away from him to enter into the bathroom, grabbing a few makeup wipes before returning back into the bedroom and plopping yourself down on the fluffy duvet of the bed. You began wiping off the various light sparkles and pinks that softened your face, as if you were taking off a doll-like mask. 

“You’re an annoying little thing, aren’t you?” He commented as he watched your nonchalant demeanour. 

Then it was your turn to watch him disappear into his closet for a moment, the muffled sounds of clothes moving around reaching your ears, before he emerged in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black short sleeve t-shirt. 

But you particularly noticed his right arm, which was covered in a full sleeve of tattoos ending just above his wrist. The ink travelled over the smooth ridges of his skin, taut from the firm muscles underneath. Your gaze immediately dropped to the small trash can next to the bedside table, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, as you focused on throwing the used wipes into the bin. 

You then leaned back on the mattress, arms holding you upright, trying to get your focus back on track, “I like how forgetting to close the balcony door annoys you and not the fact that I want you dead.”

That made Jungkook smile, amusement clear in his eyes, “I’m still standing here though, aren’t I?”

Your reply was quick.

“It won’t be for long.”

“Right,” Jungkook nodded, his words laced into a patronising chuckle, “but while you’re working on that, I need you to actually act like my wife. We’re lucky Taehyung and Chaewon didn’t notice anything, the public won’t be so inattentive.”

You tilted your head, “yes, I wonder what the public would have said about the hickies on your neck.”

Jungkook mirrored your movements, the edges of his lips twitching.

“I think they would be glad to be under the impression that we’re hard at work trying to produce an heir.”

“That’s only if your side piece stays quiet.” 

“Careful, Y/N,” Jungkook tutted, “you sound almost jealous.”

“Jealous?” You repeated incredulously, sitting up straighter with an evidently offended expression, “your girl is sleeping with a dead man walking. Is that something to be jealous of?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, continuing to direct an amused gaze in your direction, before he turned away, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, “relax, princess, there’s no other girl. I just went hunting earlier and got a few mosquito bites. Nothing more.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” you shrugged before falling back onto the mattress, the softness of the duvet making your limbs feel heavy with exhaustion. The position caused your dress to ride up to the middle of your thighs, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He looked away when he realised he was staring, choosing instead to focus his gaze on the bright moon outside the window. 

“We may be as far from in love with each other as the moon is to the earth, but I still won’t risk messing around with others outside this relationship,” he said. There was a pause after his words, as if he were expecting you to say something, but you let the silence ensue. There really was nothing you wanted to add anyway. 

A noise made you lift your head, allowing you to see Jungkook unlocking the door to his office before he turned his head to you, “just get used to whatever happened at dinner today. There will be much more where that came from in the future.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the room while locking the door behind him. Jungkook immediately walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to place them on the desk.

The loud clink of the glass against the wood of the desk made Jungkook frown, annoyed by his getting annoyed at your lack of reply. Yet, it was evident that he was indeed irritated by it. Of course you wouldn’t agree not to mess around with others, you had your ‘boyfriend’ waiting for you back in the South. 

He certainly wasn’t messing around with anyone. After meeting Taehyung at the docks, Jungkook had gone to meet with the leader of an independent gang in the West, who, to his distaste, was a huge fan of hunting. So naturally they’d met in a forest to hunt for a few hours, before Jungkook had convinced the man to be at his disposal. Jungkook has always been prone to mosquito bites, but that day the mosquitos seemed to have taken a particular liking to his neck and arms, despite what Taehyung and Chaewon might have thought. 

It didn’t matter to him, though, that you had a boyfriend. Yes, it really didn’t. He was just annoyed because if someone found out about him, then Jungkook’s reputation would take a hit. The news would spread like a wildfire, and the outcome would be far from good. 

He didn’t even know how well you could hide a secret like that. What if you slipped up somewhere? What if the dude did? It would be a disaster. 

Jungkook placed his glass down, the whiskey momentarily forgotten as he grabbed his phone and leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen in thought. This was for the good of his leadership, not anything personal. Yes, that’s right. 

Mind made, Jungkook quickly dialled a familiar number, waiting barely a single ring before a male voice sounded from the device. 

“Hello sir, was there something I could help you with?”

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the glass on his desk, “tell the informant I want him to investigate Lee Y/N’s room at the Lee mansion. I want to find out everything we can about the man Y/N was talking on the phone with before our marriage, and if there’s anything else unusual I want to be informed of it as well.”

“Yes, of course sir,” the voice said immediately, “I’ll let him know as soon as possible. Is that all?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, thinking over the question. This had been an impromptu call after all.

Stuck in his thoughts, he brought the glass into his hand, swirling the liquid in it for a second before taking a modest sip.

His reflexes acted before his mind did; the second he registered the hint of a metallic taste he lurched forward, spitting the liquid back into the glass in a matter of a second. Even with that little exposure he could start to feel his tongue burn slightly, causing him to instantly open the drawer of his desk and grab a water bottle. The water soothed his mouth as he quickly swished it between his teeth before spitting it out and repeating the process a few times.

“Sir? Sir?! Is everything okay?” The voice rang from his phone, Jungkook almost forgetting about him for a second. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, it was nothing. That will be all, thank you.”

He ended the call, grimacing in discomfort at the feel of his slightly sensitive tongue against the roof of his mouth. So you’d managed to find a way to sneak into his office. He shouldn’t have been very surprised by that, you seemed to have a talent for getting into places where you shouldn’t. 

Jungkook sighed as he eyed his liquor cabinet, realising that he’d have to throw it all. But as his gaze raised, it seemed to catch an empty slot in his bookshelf. Curiously he walked over to it, hand hovering over the hollow space between a book about war tactics and a book about his family’s history. 

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. You’d obviously taken one of his books, but whether it was for casual reading or for something more he couldn’t tell. 

He ignored the pang of pain that rippled throughout his mouth as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, his gaze falling back to his desk. With Jimin’s attacks, he had a lot of work he was going to have to do, and now seemed like the perfect time to get that done considering he was not going to go back into his bedroom, which you had taken over. 

He sighed. 

It was going to be a long night. 

-

-

-

You remained seated on the bed as you watched Jungkook lock the door behind him, leaving you alone in his bedroom once again. You hoped he enjoyed the nice present you’d dropped into his liquor bottles this morning, because you were just about ready to be shipped off back to the Lee mansion and watch your plan unfold in the perfect way you’d outlined it to. 

The sound of something tapping against glass caught your attention, causing you to turn towards the balcony. It was hard to spot her in the dead of night, her black fur blending into the dark so well that her feline eyes were the only thing about her you could really make out. But even then, there was no doubt in your mind that it was Persilla trying to get your attention from outside of the balcony door. 

You stood, sending a wary glance in the direction of Jungkook’s office’s door, before slowly pushing yourself off the mattress and making your way towards the glass. You paused in front of it for a moment, taking a deep breath before closing your eyes. Your hands blindly felt in front of you, moving erratically in the air for a moment before you could feel the handle between your fingers. You pulled on it, hearing the sound of the door opening as well as the feel of the fresh airy breeze on your face.

The second you felt Persilla’s small body walking between your feet, you pushed the door close, sighing in relief when you opened your eyes. 

You crouched down to pet Persilla’s head, scratching against her chin when she purred delightfully. It was only when she moved her head upwards, showcasing her collar, when you paused, your gaze catching onto something white wedged between the sleek leather and her furry neck. 

“Do you have something for me, Persilla?” You asked, fingers pinching the thing, which you realised was a folded note, and bringing it out of its confines. You unfolded it, eyes widening after scanning it and recognising the familiar strokes of black pen on its surface.

It’s done.

We should meet soon.

~ H

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Also Jungkook when he finds out about Persilla: 🧍‍♂️

[yooboobies]

his laugh is everything (4/?)

{cr. 0613data, dwellingsouls}

[dollfaceksj]

can’t afford love | myg (m) MASTERLIST

➥ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Your childhood dream of having 2 children in a big house with a blooming marriage by this point in time has been eliminated the moment divorce came knocking at your door. With only one child and finding yourself back at square one, you ask your ex-husband—Min Yoongi—if he’d be down to fulfill 1 of these 3 things on your childhood’s bucket-list. And no, it’s not giving you a big house.

➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ divorced/exes

➥ CATEGORY: crack drabble series (bullet-point format)

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, crack au, mom!reader, dad!yoongi, mentions of pregnancy, divorced couple, unprotected sex, emotional baggage (A LOT OF IT), trauma, sad sad sad stuff, humor, angsty angsty angst, smutty smut smut, jealousy, possessiveness, claiming, exes, mentions of body image issues, second chance… maybe, minors dni

➥ UPDATES: every friday, saturday & sunday

➥ STATUS: discontinued

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

— i n d e x ↓

♢ #1: “would you be willing?”

♢ #2: “nothing i haven’t seen before.”

♢ #3: “why are you hiding it from me?”

♢ #4: “nothing compares.”

♢ #5: “hard to control myself.”

♢ #6: “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

♢ #7: “sugar.”

♢ #8: “what are you doing here?”

♢ #9: “liars tend to lie.”

♢ #10: “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

♢ #11: “plus one.”

♢ #12: “our son.”

♢ #13: “we can do some things with the camera.”

♢ #14: “i don’t need a reason.”

♢ #15: “but you did.”

♢ #16: “then you get it.”

♢ #17: “happy?”

♢ #18: “you gonna let me take care of you?”

♢ #19: “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

♢ #20: “is this really what i once loved?”

♢ #21: “what did we learn?”

♢ #22: “more to love.”

♢ #23: “why do you find it so hard to admit?”

♢ #24: “back to normal.”

♢ discontinued.

➸ support me by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (Series Masterlist) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: 99.4k

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around. 

Maybe one day, in 10 years perhaps, or in another lifetime… Maybe then, we’ll finally choose us.

Playlist 🎶

A/N: Long-haired Yoongi in a basketball setting has not left my mind so here he is! This one’s a little emotional since I’m currently in an LDR to *pursue* my dreams so I hope you like it! 🫣🥹 No schedule of the posting this time (school/work is a little intense) so please just stay tuned. 😊

Part 01: Present day

1.5: Rewind

Part 02: Present day

2.5 Rewind

Part 03: Present day

3.5 Rewind

Part 04: Present day

4.5 Rewind

Post-credits

masterlist

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [2] (myg)

title: and the hits just keep coming 1.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut

summary: you lean on your friend for support and an escape, but the reality of your situation keeps flashing before you.

warnings: [there's a prologue and part 1 that should be read before this one!] just some insecurity, some sad vibes, you know the drill.

Taehyung fails to dodge the fifth pillow you launch at him. "Let me explain!" Repeatedly begging you to stop, he crashes into your kitchen counter.

A pillow to his leg.

"Wait! Please!" He's dodging for his life.

Another pillow to his chest.

"You're an angel! Pleas-" Headshot!

"Ough! Not the face..." He pauses to soothe his aching nose.

By now, you're out of energy too. But, there's still a lot of anger in your stomach. You're too guilty and too tired to let it out on the wrong person.

You spent over twenty minutes reprimanding him for hiding Yoongi's fiancée from you.

Finally having a fraction of a minute of peace, your friend sits you down by your dinner table.

He disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to cradle and console your heart by yourself.

You hear a few utensils clashing and see him juggling four things in his hands; your cat mug, his designated frog mug, a bottle of white chocolate liqueur and a carton of what looks like chocolate milk.

Pointing your finger at the tetra pak, you protest, "Excuse you, that's the expensive chocolate milk and it’s for Nao."

He looks at the half-empty carton in his hand and back at you.

"You're telling me Nao drank more than half of this bottle in a day? And you let her?" Taehyung deadpanned.

...

"Yeah." Your eyes wander as you insist poorly.

He ignored you and poured you a glass of the milk.

Sitting across from you, he grew solemn, "_____, I swear I didn't know it was like this." - "But you knew about her?" You asked before he said anything else.

Taehyung couldn't deny it, "Yeah. But I thought she would just be like the others."

Yoongi had others.

All grumpy, you sigh. "The others?"

Momentarily, he froze and exhaled. "Yeah, there have been a few. He was... I don't know. He kept saying he was serious about each of them but nobody ever... stuck around? So, we thought he was lying or something." Taehyung regretted his choice of words.

You want to believe him, but you both know that Yoongi isn’t someone who lies like that. Let alone big lies, Yoongi won't even tell little white lies.

Over the years, you naturally assumed he was dating around, but you didn't know. Nothing was confirmed. You never asked and he never told you anything himself.

"Who all knew?"

"Everyone. But nobody even imagined that they'd be getting hitched." He shook his head in disbelief.

“Obviously. This is Yoongi you’re talking about,” you pause, “But didn’t you notice anything different with them?”

“I’m telling you, _____, we had no idea.” Taehyung cringes after taking a sip of the sweet liqueur. “I think he wanted to tell you first.”

You wish he never had.

"What are you thinking?"

You dip your head in between your palms, “I feel terrible. It’s like I know I want to cry but I’m so emotionally stunted right now, I cannot get it out. It’s like a stuck yawn.”

Taehyung caresses your arm, "Can I do anything to help?"

You shake your head, "I don't think so, Tae."

"Oh! Do you want to watch 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas?' Maybe that will help you cry." He tilts his head, eyes filled with hope.

At that, you let out a surprised laugh, "Taehyung, no!"

Basking in the little moment of success (by making you laugh), Taehyung internally pops confetti.

But, the moment was just that. A moment. Your happiness faded away as quickly as it came.

So, he pulled his phone out and placed it in front of you.

Taehyung’s hesitant to ask you this but he does it anyway. “Do you want to see her?”

You don’t know. (You’d rather pretend she doesn’t exist.)

If it weren’t for Nao, you’d have no problem ignoring Yoongi’s girlfriend. Even thinking of the words ‘Yoongi’s girlfriend’ makes you want to end it all.

It’s no secret that you’re still madly in love with your ex-boyfriend.

This situation felt so ridiculous to you, you couldn’t digest it. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you.

As a young girl, you never thought it was in the books for you to go through this kind of pain. And, you don’t have a whole lot to lean on. So, Yoongi has always been it for you. He always told you he’d be there for you no matter what.

Even after your breakup, he was by your side.

When you unexpectedly caught the chicken pox from Nao, he took care of you. Even when Taehyung insisted on helping you instead, Yoongi sent him away.

You shared every birthday with him. He’d throw you a small party. Every year, it was a different theme. This year was ‘enchanted garden.’ He always ordered you a custom cake from out of town. It made everything special.

He even helped you open your quaint little bakery. Yoongi was the one who helped you finalize your menu. He tasted everything and even got himself sick because of it.

He stood by you when you got sued by your competition, another old-timey cake shop, for stealing their clients and recipes. He acted as your lawyer free of charge.

Now, you wonder if it was all out of convenience or… an obligation. Had you read it all wrong? Was he simply being polite because you’re the mother of his daughter? Would he stop doing things for you now? Did he ever do those things for you? Or were they simply for your daughter by extension?

Would he be too focused on his wife now?

Even for Nao’s sake, you never once got the urge to know the woman who did the unthinkable.

As a co-parent, you trusted Yoongi. You knew Yoongi would never let just anyone around Nao. If he wants to introduce his daughter to a woman, you knew it was safe. She could be the next Mother Teresa for all you know.

All this blind trust has been earned by him throughout the years you’ve spent with him, you’re not a careless mother.

However, as a woman and Yoongi’s ex-flame, you weren’t eager to know the woman who replaced you. You don’t want to see or meet her. In your eyes, she was able to compel Yoongi to do something he wouldn’t do even after you begged him to. Maybe she didn’t even have to try. She was probably just that perfect for him.

This is apart from the fact that he fell in love with another woman after you while you’re still hung up on him.

You don’t think you can afford to willingly take a hit to your self-confidence like that.

Nao looks up to you. You know you cannot lose yourself when you have so much relying on you.

Taehyung was kind enough to let you get lost in your thoughts.

“No.” You finally answer his question.

You did not want to see what she looked like.

Taehyung nodded once, “Okay. That’s fine.”

Just when Taehyung’s about to put his phone back into his pocket, it rings.

And on the screen pops this gorgeous woman. She looked like she stepped straight out of an issue of Harpar’s Bazaar or even Vogue. You weren’t surprised, you smiled and involuntarily snorted. Taehyung did have a type.

He hurriedly tried to pull his phone off the table, knocking your (thankfully, empty) glass of milk in the process.

“You don’t have to hide her from me, Vincent.” You tease him, using his artist alias. “Is she your new muse?”

Taehyung awkwardly laughed, blatantly ignoring your question.

Suddenly, he changes the topic, “Oh! Do you have to go into work today?”

Your smile drops a little. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

He offered a strained smile, “It’s like I can feel the alcohol in my veins.”

“Heyyy... What’s up with the model babe? Why are you deflecting?” This time you pout.

You hear his phone ring once again. But he immediately declines.

“Taehyung… What’s the matter?” When he refuses to acknowledge you, you grow more concerned.

“You don’t have to stay, you know?” You continue to reassure him.

“It’s not,” he cuts himself off, “That wasn’t my girlfriend.”

Taehyung hopes he doesn’t have to face your inevitable question in line.

“Well, who was that the….” When you trail off mid-response, he knew you had figured out who that woman really was.

The two of you are silent for a moment.

Sullen, you whisper, “That’s his fiancée?”

Taehyung wishes he never came over to your place. He didn’t want to be the one to make you feel this way.

He nods once. Not that you needed that confirmation.

Quickly moving on to your next thought, you question, “Why is she calling you?”

Already on it, Taehyung visibly cringes at the messages on his screen when you push yourself forward to peek into his phone. This time, he doesn’t try to obstruct your vision.

Hyejin (3)

Sorry! I forgot you were at _____’s. It’s nothing important, I just had a question about Nao-chan. Does she like lemon cake? How is _____ doing btw?

Your mouth dropped open.

You don’t even acknowledge the fact that she’s speaking about you so personally; as if you were a friend or even an acquaintance.

You ignore the fact that she’s fucking stunning, owning the most symmetrical, aesthetically pleasing face you’ve ever seen on a grown woman.

You don’t even dwell about how you do not stand a chance against this woman.

The only thing you see is her nickname for your daughter. You squeak, “She calls her Nao-chan!”  

That’s YOUR name for YOUR babygirl.

“Angel…” Taehyung begins but has no idea what he could possibly say to comfort you.

Pull yourself together. You mentally discipline yourself. It takes a minute for you to get there.

Instead of dealing with whatever you just felt, you push it away in an instant and beam at your friend.

“Whatever. Let’s get cheesy naan and shrimp skewers!”

Of course, your faux smile didn’t fool Taehyung, but he went with it anyway.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡tears are in your eyes by yo la tengo ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: i hope i'm doing this series justice lol the ideas in my head run too wild for me to actually make note of them. please let me know what you guys think!

[chimivx]

champagne confetti.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader (ot7 minus two) (vegas addition)

summary: Jungkooks secret listening party is full of surprises.

word count: 7400

warnings: 18+, adults doing adults things and talking about adult things, no explicit sexual content, drinking, mentions of miscarriage/pregnancy talk, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

a/n: I was supposed to post this in the beginning of January. Apologies for the delay, been goin thru some things. Love you all. xo. This feels like an ending... But, I dunno... It also feels incomplete...

~ october 11th, 2023 ~

It took three rings for her to answer the phone.

Leaning over the bathroom counter, iPhone propped up against the mirror, your lips were pressed together firmly, an unreadable expression as Sunny’s bright smile popped up on the screen and fell within milliseconds, her pink glossy lips frowning. Behind her, palm trees and sunshine, a backdrop she’s become accustomed to, one she belongs in front of.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, squinting. Voices chattered in the background, a prominent one belonging to none other than Khloe Kardashian herself.

Taking a deep breath, you asked, “You’re filming?”

“No, having dinner with the girls,” she spoke fast, her eyes locked on you. “What’s going on? You okay? Dae okay? I can fly back.”

A small smile broke onto your lips. Nerves jittered in your veins, your heart beating a little faster than it should be. “We’re okay, just finished breakfast. She’s running around my room right now, she’s obsessed with Kook’s dirty ass song. We’ve had to listen to it everyday. Everyday, Sun. I hate it.”

“The Jack Harlow one?” she asked, and your grimace answered for you, making her cackle.

“First Seven, now this,” you said, teeth clenched. “What happened to sweet baby Jungkook?”

Sunny’s laugh sounded through your phone once more, triggering the pitter patter of little footsteps to come barreling into the bathroom door. “Honey, you’re funny, you know who changed that man.”

Your smile grew, shaking your head because you knew damn well who changed that man. Glancing to your right down at the floor, a two year old in pastel yellow footed pajamas was watching you, holding onto the doorframe with her little hands. There were messy pigtails in her hair, black as night, the skinny rubber bands slipping out after a good night's sleep. Eyes wide, the ghost of a smile on her face, she knew who you were talking to. 

“Hi,” you said to her, and she giggled, her cheeks squishing her eyes like her fathers would.

“Dae?!” Sunny called, lurching forward in her seat. She excused herself from the table and hurried into whoever’s house she was at, walking into a hallway grander than your own. Your daughter’s lips parted, curiosity written all over the face she stole from your husband. 

“Who is it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the toddler as she walked toward you, wrapping her arms around one of your legs.

“Where’s my girl?” Sunny’s tone was eager, all she could see was the top of your head. Crouching down to pick Dae up, you propped her on your hip and grinned as Sunny gasped. “Hello, beautiful!”

Dae smiled, looking down at the phone, then looked at you, putting a finger between her little teeth.

“Say hi to Sunny,” you nodded, brushing leftover crumbs from breakfast off of her pajamas. “Tell her you haven’t brushed your hair yet today.” Another dramatic gasp came out of the phone, catching Dae’s attention.

“Baby, you tell your mother I blame her for that.” Sunny clicked her tongue. “You can’t even reach your hairbrush, it is not your fault.” She squinted at the screen. “She had those rubber bands yesterday, Honey, get them out!”

Dae was laughing, Sunny’s silly tone making her giggle in your arms, subsequently making you giggle along with her. “Dae,” you said softly after a breath, your daughter pointing her gaze at you. “Tell Sunny we’ve been really busy.” Your Californiacated best friend froze, her sculpted eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“Busy,” Dae said, copying you, her listening ears on full alert. Her little voice soft, smooth, the words broken as she tried to pronounce everything correctly.

“I’ve been gone for two weeks,” Sunny deadpanned. “How busy can you be?”

A laugh escaped you, Dae smiling back at you.

“Hey,” Sunny whined, “I’m over here, girl party, I want in on the secret,” she glanced around the room she was in, “I’m alone, promise.”

Your girl threw her arms around your shoulders, burying her head into your chest. Taking a look at Sunny, you laughed again at how smushed she looked on the screen, like she was trying to push her way through. Tapping your daughters back a few times where you held her, she perked up, still wearing a smile.

“Do you want to show Sunny?” you sighed, the nerves spiraling out of control.

“Show Sunny,” Dae said, drumming her hands on your shoulder.

“Show me what?!” Sunny cried from the phone.

A sudden deep breath shot through you. Dae, studying your form, placed a hand on your cheek, getting you to look over at her. You’ve seen the sparkle in her eyes elsewhere, in someone you’ve been without for a few weeks now. Someone you both had to say goodbye to, a day you wished to never have to relive.

She was half his, Dae was. Half Yoongi. A part of him you could still hold onto during these long months he’d be gone. It was never certain when you’d get to see him again throughout his service, but you held onto to hope that it was sometime soon. Especially now.

“I love you,” you whispered to your baby.

Dae, without missing a beat, whispered, “I love you.”

~ november 4th 2023 ~

Music played throughout the room soft enough to still be able to hear the person next to you speaking, yet loud enough to keep conversations private. Dressed in all black, flowing pants and a long sleeved bodysuit, you walked throughout the room with your chin held high, eyes searching the place for a familiar face. You’d come with Sunny, but she was stolen away from you the second you stepped in the door.

The night was alive, this venue buzzing with excitement and happy vibes as people who were both close friends or acquaintances of Jungkook came together to celebrate his brand new album, Golden. After listening to him, and watching him work on this project for ages, it meant so much to be able to be a part of this night. He was the last one to put out any solo music, meaning this was a celebration for the end of an era, and you were not ready for the start of the next one.

The one where you’d have to do life without any one of the seven boys around.

Greeting a few familiar faces, and a few new ones who just started to pay attention to you this year because of what went down in February, you moved throughout the room with a sprinkle of attention on you. During Yoongi’s tour that you were very much involved with, your daughter included, your entrance into the media world exploded. After February and the announcement, of course word of his family spread like wildfire, but the tour brought it all to life.

Now that he was gone the people who spoke to you tonight gave you the sympathetic half smile and nod, asking you how you and Dae were holding up without him. To each and everyone of them, you’d grin and shrug, letting them know this was no different than him being on tour, or him going away for work. Time spent a part was the story of your life. Especially after the last three years with your daughter.

Though, you weren’t going to lie, this go around the time a part was rough. You aren’t able to call him whenever you please, nor was he able to jump on a plane, or get in a car and come home to you whenever he felt like he needed just twenty minutes of your time. He truly was absent, and it sucked. Your two year old didn’t understand it, though she was used to her father being away. That much she got, but when it came down to not being able to see him through a phone screen as often as she pleased, she became a pouty mess.

Within the last month Dae has definitely become more clingy than you’d have wanted, but you knew that was just because she was having some big feelings that she didn’t understand yet. Both you and Yoongi prayed that this wouldn’t have a large impact on her and her development as she got older, her father being gone for such a chunk of time in her early years of life. You made it a point to talk about him every single day, play his videos, play voicemails he left you in preparation for this, listen to his music, and show her pictures of them together.

It wasn’t a worry she’d forget about him, it was a worry that she’d forget how he loved her.

The two of you had just watched a video of him talking to her before you left the house to come to the party, the clip leaving you in tears. He was in his office sitting in the leather chair at his desk, his hair messy over his forehead and his eyes tired. The weeks before he left were brutal for you both. He spoke to her with intention, repeating on and on how much he loved her, and how much he missed her, that he was proud of her and that she would see him very soon.

He tried his hardest to not shed a tear, but it happened anyway, and in true Yoongi fashion he laughed it off. After speaking to Dae he turned his words to you, knowing you’d be watching with her. He didn’t do this every time, he left other things just for you, so it was a complete surprise. As expected, your husband declaring his love for you, in front of your daughter, left you in tears.

But, the story of your life, right?

Smoothing your hands over your middle, smiling at a group of girls walking past you who had bowed their heads, you approached the bar, finding exactly who you were looking for. The boy dressed in all white towered over you, the view of his back from behind unbelievable. He stood next to Namjoon who was just as tall as him, but not nearly as wide. The maknae passed him a while ago.

Pushing between both of them, just below their shoulders, a smile pulled at your lips as they stepped away from you, then gasped once they realized it was you.

“Honey!” Namjoon cheered, slinging an arm around your back to give you a hug. Throwing both of your arms around his broad shoulders, you pulled him close and squeezed him, standing on your tiptoes.

“Hi,” you said quietly, pecking a quick kiss to his cheek. “Missed you guys,” you sighed, turning to Jungkook who waited patiently for his hug. “You’re all too busy now.” You barely had your arms around him before Jungkook was lifting you off the floor, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Kook!” you giggled. “Put me down, I’m fragile!”

“Fragile,” he laughed, following directions, making sure you were balanced in your black boots before he let go of you. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he smiled at you, one that was all too big.

“Me too,” you returned the smile and snatched his hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“How’s the baby?” Namjoon asked, leaning against the bar with an elbow. Whirling around, you shot him a wide eyed look. “Dae?” His smile relieved almost every nerve that sparked in your heart.

“Dae,” you breathed. “She’s amazing.” The boys smiled, always happy to hear you speak of your daughter. “She’s… doing her best right now. We both are. She misses him.”

Namjoon pursed his lips and gave you the sympathetic nod so many other people have already given you. “Understandable,” he said. “It’s tough.”

“It is,” you shrugged. “But, we knew it was coming, so I’m… somewhat alright. It’s just hard to try to explain it to a two year old.”

A bartender sped by the back of the bar to refill glasses with Golden etched on them, placing down new ones for those who had just shown up, you included. Champagne bubbled in the glass that you were definitely heading home with. Jungkook grabbed two, holding one out for you to take.

“We’re not sad today,” he grinned. Glancing at the glass, you gulped and looked up at him.

“I’m not gonna drink, Kook,” you said quietly. Namjoon, already downing half his glass, perked a brow.

Jungkook nodded and turned toward the bar to place the glass down, but then froze, facing you without doing so. “Wait, hang on,” he said. “Where’s she at?” His eyes narrowed.

“Sunny?” you questioned. “Somewhere around here, I think-”

“No,” he cut you off, grilling you with his gaze. “Dae.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “Kook, she’s not here.”

“Liar, where is she?” He did a once over of the room, his hardened gaze falling upon you again.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “She’s at home, probably begging Branson to play that god awful song you made about ejaculating on someone's face.” Behind you Namjoon lost his mind, nearly spitting out his drink. You shot him a look over your shoulder. “You’re not off the hook Mr. Smoke Sprite.”

Jungkook would have laughed if his jaw hadn’t fallen open in shock, a big ol’ smile behind it all. “She doesn’t like that song.” His whisper was laced with disappointment, eyebrows twisting into a knot in the center of his forehead.

Thinning out your lips, you nodded. “Loves it, Jungkook. She loves it.”

“Oh no,” he groaned, rolling his head back, taking a gulp of champagne. “Don’t let her listen to it, not my girl.”

“Now, whenever you feel like making a song like that ever again, you think about her,” you started to smile, knowing your words would make an impact. “You want someone to treat her like that when she’s all grown up?”

He scrunched his nose and pouted at you. “No,” he mumbled.

“Exactly,” you nodded once and took the champagne glass from him, taking a sip before stopping dead in your tracks. Processing your situation, Namjoon and Jungkook sandwiching you at the crowded bar, there really was no way for you to be sneaky about this. With the glass in your hand, you sideyed them both, a mouthful of champagne marinating on your tongue. Closing your eyes, you took a breath and accepted your fate, a stream of champagne falling from your lips back into the glass in your hands.

“I knew it,” Namjoon muttered. You could hear the smugness written all over his face. You gave him the quickest look without giving anything away, and turned to Jungkook whose face was screwed up, completely confused.

“Just drink it, Hon,” he laughed. “Dae’s home, you’re here to be you, you don’t have to worry about…” Voice trailing off, he paused and eyed you curiously. Then it all seemed to click at once. “Are you lying?” Testing the waters, he held in his jitters, but you could see it all building up beneath the surface. “You’re ly- Shit, no you wouldn’t do that… You’re… Honey, you swear?” 

Taking a long deep breath, you placed your glass on the bar and shrugged your shoulders. He exhaled heavily, a single laugh coming out with it. He held his arms out at his sides, putting his own glass down, trying to gauge how you were feeling by your body language. Namjoons eyes flickered between the two of you, allowing you your moment before he stepped in.

“It’s, like… brand new. Really brand new,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Sunny knows, but that’s it. I’m not trying to… get anyones hopes up.” Speaking carefully, like you were warning them, Namjoon was the only one to nod in respect for what you had said. Jungkook understood of course, but his heart always got the best of him first. “I found out three weeks ago, I’m barely two months in.”

“Holy shit,” Jungkook whispered, pulling you into his arms. He shared a look with Namjoon, one you thankfully couldn’t see, a slightly worried one. Laying your head on his chest, the chains he wore cold against your cheek, you closed your eyes and let his hands on your back soothe some of the anxiety you’d been feeling since you saw the two little lines in your bathroom back in October. “I’m so happy for you, Honey.”

“Thanks, Kookie,” you said, painting a smile on your lips. “I haven’t been able to say the words yet,” you admitted, pulling back from him. Hugging Namjoon who congratulated you quietly, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Thirty years old and I can’t say the words.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon said, embodying the word empathy.

Letting his calm, peaceful aura bleed into yours, you bobbed your head. “It is okay,” you repeated, not allowing you to gaslight yourself. Averting your gaze to the bar you shrugged your shoulders once more. “I just hope I have the courage to say them to him.” The boys were quiet, focused on you, listening intently. “It’s a shitty time for this to happen, I think, but not in the sense that… Well, you know what I mean?”

“Course,” Jungkook said, brows pointed.

“It’s just with Dae already having a hard time, Yoongi having a hard time, me, myself having a hard time,” you paused to collect your thoughts, squinting down at the wood. “What we just went through not even a year ago? I am just freaked the absolute fuck out that I’m going to go through it alone this time.”

“You can’t do that to yourself,” Namjoon spoke with ease. “Don’t add any more stress onto this. Timing may not be ideal, but it never was for you guys. If anything… this is right on point.”

“Shit, Joon.” The words tumbled from your lips in an exasperated burst. Throwing your arms back around him, you held him tight. All it took were two simple sentences to almost flip your mentality completely. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I was totally thinking the same thing, by the way,” Jungkook said, making you smile. Turning toward him, he had his arms open waiting for you to jump back into them. Falling right into the trap, you pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you guys,” you said, grabbing both of them by the arm, giving them a small shake. “Keep it a secret, yeah? No telling boyfriends.” You narrowed your eyes and pointed at them playfully. 

Namjoon lowered his head with a chuckle and raised his glass in promise. Jungkook rolled his eyes and took a large gulp from his glass. “What boyfriend?” 

“Oh, come on,” you sang, tilting your head to the side. Jungkook settled his gaze on the party, eyes scanning the room with, you now notice, anticipation. “Kookie, don't do that to yourself.”

After another swig of his drink he twisted around to face the bar and smirked. “Promise I’m not a masochist… Even though he’s already got a song.”

“Hon-naaay!” Jimin’s high pitched, full of energy, singsongy voice flooded the air. Jungkook shot you a look over his shoulder as you pouted your lips at the same time.

Shooting your best smile at a now blonde Jimin you opened your arms, ready for him to fall into them dramatically as he would, but he stopped short. His own smile faded on his lips, to something soft while he looked you over, and it was like you could see the gears turning in his head. He held a glass of champagne in a Golden glass in one hand and the other found sanctuary on his hip.

“Hi, pretty,” you said in a voice you would use while talking to Dae. Jimin didn’t crack, he was honed in on you. Dropping your arms, letting them fold over your chest, you tilted your head to the side in question, though you weren’t sure you wanted, or were ready, for him to respond. 

In touch with his femininity a thousand times more than the others, the way his eyes scanned over you flipped your stomach. Jimin, like a woman, moved through his day to day like he was in touch with the moon, being guided through life by the space being without even knowing so. He made it through his days subconsciously following the twenty-eight day cycle a woman's subconsciousness was wired to.

He figured you out with one look.

Taking you in his arms tight, his head laying on top of yours, he sucked in a breath and released it with his words. “Hi, pretty.” Leaning back a bit, your lips parted to say something, but Jimin took a finger to your jaw to shut it. Then, he tapped your closed lips once and shook his head gently. He didn’t need the words.

“Taehyung not attached to you?” Namjoon asked, sipping his glass with composure, his curious eyes flickering over to Jungkook a couple times.

Jimin pulled away from you and shrugged. “He was, he probably found something better.” 

You weren’t positive, but you’re certain Jungkook mumbled, “Impossible,” under his breath.

“Sunny came with me,” you spoke up quickly to muffle anything else that would come out of the boy's mouth whether or not he had intentions of anyone hearing him. “He might be with her.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “Mmm,” he hummed, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, she was hanging around Mingyu last time I passed her.” The name spewed confidently from his mouth, a subtle look of shock something you all shared, even Jungkook.

“Tell her she won’t have any luck,” Jungkook grumbled, having not turned away from the bar once. He hasn’t looked at Jimin since he arrived over here.

Swatting your hand at his shoulder with disappointment, Jimin gave him a somber look, the empath in him you knew was hurting too. Namjoon watched the scene ensue peacefully, waiting patiently for his moment to step in, if needed. They haven’t been a proper group for months, but that didn’t mean those dynamics were erased.

“Sunny is dating somebody, Kookie,” you said. “You know that. She wouldn’t ever hurt him.”

“Jin,” Jungkook said, finally turning around. “We can say his name. Jin. They may hate talking about it, but we can. Besides, he’s been away for so long now, bet she misses him. Not surprised she’d go for the biggest guy in the room.”

“Jungkook,” Namjoon chimed in, his glare one you never wanted to be on the receiving end of. The rest of the youngests second glass, that you’ve been around for, went down easy.

“I’m just saying,” he laughed to himself.

Both you and Jimin watched him in shock. Words like that, implying what he was implying, have never come out of Jungkook, nor has he ever thought them up before. The implication that Sunny would be untrue to Jin, that one’s partner being away for an extended period of time meant that everyone acquired, or wanted to act upon these thoughts.

“What does that say about me?” you asked, looking up at him, remembering the days of when he was a mere few inches taller than you.

“What are you talking about?” he shrugged sloppily. You could feel Jimin’s gaze watching you.

“I’ve spent more time away from Yoongi our entire relationship than Sunny has from Jin in the last year or so,” you said. “And I’m about to do it for another two-ish years.” Jungkook was silent. “In fact, until Jin comes back next summer, I’ll be without all of you. So, pick someone for me, Jungkook.” The boy didn’t move. “If we’re comparing sizes, who’ve you got?” A quick glance at Jimin. “Taemin?” A quick glance at Jungkook. “Jay?”

“From Enhypen?” Namjoon chimed in again. Cringing, you looked at him for a second.

“He’s a baby, nevermind,” you muttered.

“He’s also like, six feet tall,” Namjoon chuckled.

“Oh, I know,” you tapped Jungkook’s white jacket, “Your Seventeen boy can hook me up, it’s Jeonghan right? Always has longer hair? Think he’ll be into me?” Jimin held in a laugh, turning to keep it hidden. Jungkook sighed. “I’m married, I got one kid and another on the way, let’s see how well he plays daddy, huh?” 

“Okay, I get it,” Jungkook breathed.

“Jeonghan’s got that broodiness about him, right Joon?” Glancing over your shoulder, the eldest in the vicinity nodded without entertaining you with a smile. “He’ll fulfill the stereotype, it’s perfect! Dae might not even notice it’s-“

“Okay!” Jungkook turned up the volume, a couple party goers looking his way as they passed by. “I’m sorry! Jesus Christ, Honey.”

Pressing your lips together you smoothed a hand over his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, leaning in toward him. “I get you’re hurting,” you said just for him to hear. “But you keep bleeding onto everybody else, and that’s not fair. I love you, but saying stuff like that will only hurt others. Imagine if Jin heard that. He’s been in love almost as long as you, Kookie.”

The way he looked at you put a knife through your heart. “How do I fix it?”

“A lot has changed in the last year and a half. Really fast, too.” Wrapping your arm around his, you held him close. “We’re all adjusting in our own way, it’s a really weird place to be in. I mean… I have to go home with Jeonghan now.” He cracked a laugh, thankfully.

“You guys would pair up nicely.”

“Kookie, hush,” you laughed, shaking his arm. “You’re both about to go through a bigger change, together. Even if you can’t be… together, at least you can be together.” You squinted, hoping any of that made sense to the twenty-six year old.

He started to nod, easing some of the tension settling within your chest. “I get it.” He looked at Jimin briefly, who had taken a spot beside Namjoon, the two whispering about who knows what, and you wonder if it’s related to what you’re talking about now. “I’ll be with him most of the time too, until we get to Hobi, so…”

Your eyes widened as his did. “Hobi,” you both groaned together, falling into giggles shortly after.

“You’re really gonna need each other if you have to deal with him,” you said. “He’s a drill sergeant in rehearsals, good luck with him in the military!” Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head with a laugh. “I only wish you guys would get to see more of Yoongi,” you said after a breath.

Jungkook met your eyes, then his gaze traveled to the party behind you, a small smile pricking on his lips. “We’ll still get to see him, Honey.”

Toying with a zipper on his jacket you shrugged and took a deep breath. “I know, but I mean… I wish he got to be with you guys the whole time. He was worried about…” Looking up at him you paused, pressed your lips together with a smile, then shook your head. “Nevermind.”

Jungkook didn’t push on the matter, instead he bobbed his head in understanding and then ushered you to turn around in his arms. “Surprise.”

If your heart had the possibility to burst into flames, it would’ve. Swelling within your chest, your heart rate skyrocketing beyond belief, you didn’t even have the means to gasp in utter shock. Frozen where you stood, Jungkook's hands slipping off your shoulders, the three falling into quiet giggles, you couldn’t process any of it.

Dressed in all black, down to the thick knitted beanie on top of his head and the sneakers on his feet, Yoongi, with Taehyung's arm linked in his, had the tiniest smile on his lips as he came toward you.

“I come bearing gifts!” Taehyung cheered, giving Yoongi a small push closer to you.

Words escaped you, your mind unable to string any letters together to say something to him. Instead, you tipped your head backward and burst into tears.

A laugh slipped past his lips. He knew that was coming. Following your lead, he waited for you, and when you opened your arms he fell right in, scooping you off the floor, burying his face in your neck. 

“Hey! Careful, she’s frag-…” Jungkook’s voice tapered off quickly, his focus landing elsewhere, his lips pursed nonchalantly.

His words barely registered with either of you. There was very little anyone could say or do in this moment that would take away from the man you held in your arms.

Back on your feet you wasted little time, wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close into a kiss, one long and entirely overdue.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

Yoongi’s gaze ate away at your face, his eyes studying you completely. “I wanted a drink,” he shrugged, and you smacked his chest with your hands, a smile corrupting you. He smirked. “Came to see my girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Don’t tell Jungkook.”

“He knows,” the youngest said from behind you. Yoongi laughed, and your heart was squeezed between your lungs, the beautiful sound warming your skin.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, you couldn’t believe that he was standing here in front of you, holding you, kissing you, smiling at you. It’d been a month and twelve days since you last saw him, since he held your daughter, and that thought fueled the tears that fell.

A month and twelve days has happened before, unfortunately a couple more days longer than this, but it made that reunion all the more sweeter. Of course that was before Dae, before marriage, so it didn’t cut as deep, but it was still hard. Holding onto him now, knowing your daughter was snug at home in the house you built together, unsure if whether or not he was able to come see her, you felt the need to squeeze him tighter, like your grip around him would keep him stuck here forever, and they’d never be able to take him again. 

Wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his thumbs, he kissed the tip of your nose and tried to twist you in his arms so you could both face your friends, but you wouldn’t budge. Laying your head on his chest as he tried to move, you heard him huff a laugh toward you trying to occupy the same space as him.

Your subconscious was screaming at you. The inner workings of your natural biology, your primal instincts if you will, were firing off like crazy, keeping you latched onto him. You needed him. And not in the way one would assume.

You needed his attention. You needed his care. You needed his protection, his energy, his love, his support.

Most reunions looked something like this, you and Yoongi unable to take your hands off one another, but this one was different. You were clingy, nearly shutting off your brain entirely because he was in the room and you didn’t need to do any of the thinking. The party became a distant noise to you, something you weren’t even worried about anymore, same for your friends behind you.

You felt Yoongi looking down at you, and when you tipped your chin up to meet his knowing gaze, the way you bat your eyelashes had him whisking you away to someplace quiet, a different room vacant of all people. He found a couch in the dimly lit room, a sitting area formed in front of a smaller, empty bar. Sitting you beside him, he smiled as you tried to crawl into his lap.

“Hi,” he whispered in the quiet, brushing his fingers over your cheek. Your arms found their way around his neck again.

Your gaze danced about his face, taking in every inch, every little imperfection, memorizing more so than you already have. “Hi,” you whispered back. The two of you watched one another for a minute, the music from the main party room thumping against the walls, laughter and happy chatter ringing just below it. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said without missing a beat. “Dae’s not here, right?”

Gulping, you nodded. “She’s at home,” you mumbled. “Can you come see her?”

Yoongi flattened his lips. “I dunno.”

Your grip around him tightened. “S’okay,” you tried to smile. “She asks for you everyday.” Tears welled in his eyes, ones he blinked away. “When we’re not listening to 3D she asks for your songs.”

“3D,” Yoongi groaned, rolling his head back against your arms. “Still?”

“Still,” you deadpanned, and once he caught a look at you, you both broke into a laugh. “I gave him a talk, don’t worry.”

Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing gets through his head now, Park scrambled it all up.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “They’ll be okay, though. I hope.”

Yoongi’s nod was solemn before he drug a finger beneath your jaw. “How ‘bout you? You okay?” The bad electricity sparkled in your veins, enough of a twinge to make you shift on his lap.

“I’m okay,” you said without an ounce of confidence. His smile was slick, his fingers dragging down the side of your neck now.

“Why you gonna lie?”

“I’m not,” your half shrug didn’t convince him.

Narrowing his eyes, his gaze somehow softened at the same time. “Honey,” he crooned, his voice like velvet. “Talk to me.”

“I’m…” You were hesitant, cutting yourself short right when the words were about to tumble out of you full force. He waited patiently. Swallowing the lump that lodged in your throat, hoping to ease the nausea that started to fester within you, you nodded, small, and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

His expression didn’t change, didn’t falter, didn’t exhibit any signs of any other emotion other than patience. He only managed to whisper, “Yes you are.”

Your brows plummeted. “Who opened their mouth?”

Yoongi massaged the back of your neck with his fingers, sighing. “No one, Honey, it’s just…” he glanced between you, gesturing to how close you were to him. “You only get like this when you’re carrying one of my kids.”

Blinking, you purse your lips. “Do not.”

He laughed, bobbing his head. “Do to, it’s happened twice before.”

The words turned your skin to ice, Yoongi taking note of the utter fear that washed over you. Sliding his hand over the back of your head, he laid you on his shoulder, pressing his cheek to your forehead, taking a long deep breath. For a few minutes you both relished in the quiet, admiring the party from afar, the touch of one another enough to clearly communicate what you were both feeling.

Nobody knew what had happened in detail aside from Sunny and the boys. Branson knew bits and pieces, he was around for that week, helping to take care of Dae and the house if nobody else was able to. Not one of them talked about it. Even if you were to bring it up somehow, they didn’t linger on the topic long. It was for you and Yoongi to discuss, to share, to have. He was your son, you were the only two to ever know him.

“You don’t wanna know what I’ve thought about already,” you said. Yoongi gave your head a gentle scratch.

“Probably the same things I’m thinking right now,” he whispered. Looking up at him, his face still radiated patience, a calmness that radiated to you, though you could see the worries spinning inside his head. Curious about it all, you know you might not need to hear it. The one thought that gutted you both… He wouldn’t be here this time. “Mother fucker,” he mumbled, shifting his focus to you.

“Let me hear it,” you said.

“No, it’s just…” He collected his thoughts for a second, a laugh escaping him. “How is it this possible that we’ve got such… exquisite timing?!” He started to make you laugh. “You’d think by thirty we’d have it figured out, right? What’s wrong with us, babe!” Giggles galore. “At twenty-seven, the proposal planned, did it happen? Nope! Global pandemic and major surgery. Twenty-eight, my third album almost done, your projects lined up waiting for you, did they happen? Nope! We had a baby instead. Twenty-nine… You somehow say yes to marrying me. I think, finally, we’ll plan the wedding of your dreams. Did it happen?”

“Yes,” you chimed in, watching him in awe. He shot you a small smile with a wink.

“Thanks for that,” he breathed. “But, then the hiatus came, and the lawyers for the restraining order, and Dae turned one, and you were pregnant again, and I knew the announcement was coming after the Busan show, and…”

“And then we got married,” you said, sitting up to hold his face between your hands, delicately dancing your thumbs over his cheeks. “Saturday, November fifth. The most perfect day that happened a year ago, tomorrow.” He smiled, his cheeks squishing in your grip. “The trees were yellow, and orange, and bright and beautiful. The breeze held off until we finally kissed, making sure our guests were warmed by the sun before Autumn made an appearance.”

“Dae pulled the bow out of her hair during our vows,” he said, and you both laughed. 

“She is her mothers daughter,” you raised your eyebrows with pride. “I warned Sunny, I really did.” His smile settled, eyes gleaming with a sappiness that tugged at your tears. “It was the most wonderful day, D. Everyone was there, even your little boy.” A sudden breath shot through you. “Then, yanno, Jin left, and we had a month or so to pull ourselves together before I was thrown to the wolves.”

“It wasn’t enough time,” he muttered, and you nodded.

“I agree,” you whispered. “But, we made it. And after Hobi left we went on tour, and fuck, D, talk about the most amazing three months.”

“That really was the best,” he grinned. “Having you both there with me, jeez.” A happy roll of his eyes made you smile back at him. 

“Dae had more fun than either of us,” you scoffed.

“She sure did,” Yoongi said. “Remember the show Hope and Jin came to?”

“Of course I do,” you said. “That was the last one.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, a longing look spreading to his eyes. Questioning him with a small sound, he smirked. “It’s just… that show, that night… I thought, this is it. Thirty years of my life and I’ve got everything I’ve always dreamed of, everything I’ve always wanted, everything I could possibly need. You, Dae, the boys, Army… You.”

The tears were falling now, you could feel them.

“After everything we’ve been through, all that life has thrown at us- no, catapulted at us,” you both shared a laugh, “Onstage, I couldn’t help but realize, and recognize… Holy shit, we made it.” He wiped your tears, kissing your cheek. “And, I don’t give a fuck, Honey, we’ll make it again. And again. And again, goddammit. Unbelievably bad, shitty, fucked up timing is who we are. Since the start. July sixteenth, twenty fifteen.”

“A New York curb,” you whispered.

Yoongi beamed. “A dangerous New York curb,” he snickered. “Making people fall in love and shit?” A laugh came out of you within a breath, only Yoongi able to make you laugh and cry at the same time.

“Namjoon said something earlier,” you sniffled, taking his hands within your own. “Like what you just said, how the timing isn’t ideal, but that’s who we are. That this is right on point.” 

Yoongi let your words sink in, let his leader's words sink in, comforting him the same way they did you. “He’s right. He’s always right.”

“Unfortunately,” you joked and he cackled. “The only thing that’s keeping me from going totally insane is knowing that by June Jin will be here. Regardless of what schedules he’ll be involved with, if any, he’ll be here. Accessible.”

“That makes me feel better, too,” he sighed, then licked his lips. “How… How far are you? Do you know? When did you find out?” The questions tumbled out of him at lightning speed, each answer you had for him getting lost between each one.

After a giggle, you said, “October eleventh, I found out. Dae was dancing around our room, she left me to do it all alone, the stinker. 3D is more important to her, I guess.” Yoongi scoffed. “I wasn’t feeling so good, thought it was just leftover nerves after you leaving, thought I was late for the same reasons, but when I checked I was really late, so I took the test just to be safe. There were no hopes up or anything, no nerves because I really didn’t think it’d be positive…”

Yoongi listened with intent. “Didn’t think it would be, or didn’t want it to be?” He asked you genuinely, no discomfort wrapped around the question at all.

“I kept thinking… if this is positive, then what the actual hell am I going to do?” He nodded, his hands holding you carefully. “We didn’t say what we’d do, because we didn’t think this would happen. D, we need to start putting together plans ‘cause at this point I’m starting to think you could sneeze on me and I’d get pregnant, and if timing isn’t our thing then we need to be prepared for it all.”

Swiping his thumb over your lips he smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?” Giving you the smallest kiss, he said, “We could plan out every last little detail, babe, and I can ensure you, somehow, someway, the universe would laugh in our faces. Loud.”

He was right. Even on the day of your wedding, the most planned out day of your life, things went askew. The birth of your daughter didn’t go to plan, that entire fiasco turned into a legitimate emergency. You could have every detail splayed out, even the fine writing between the lines, and life would find a way to toss the cue cards in the air, laughing as it did. 

“This is a blessing,” Yoongi said, his voice shifting to something soft. “And, entirely on time for us, as fucked as that may sound.”

“It does make sense, doesn’t it,” you agreed. Sitting here with him, reviewing your lives, this brand new little one seemed to fit right into the insanity. The tiniest spark of hope ignited inside of you, one that you were nervous to share with your husband, but you were certain that he could feel it too. 

You both wanted a second child, you wanted Dae to have a sibling, a sister or a brother. The two of you realized during your first pregnancy and throughout Dae’s first year of life that you wanted multiple, more than two. However, after the last year you were content with just one more. If there were anymore to follow, so be it, but this second one was a must.

Deep within both of you you knew that this child would be your third, and that would be something you held close to your heart for the rest of your lives, letting Dae and your future children know that they once had a brother who loved them too much that he had to find solace within the clouds, so he could watch over and protect his family.

Yoongi nodded, slowly, knowing exactly what was going through your mind. As a tear slipped down his cheek he threw his arms around you and rocked side to side, pressing a hundred kisses to your shoulder. His lips traveled up your neck, making you giggle, until they found your lips, kissing you slowly, drinking this moment up, the both of you wishing you could drown in it. 

“An August baby,” Yoongi whispered, pulling from you with a breath. You smiled.

“An August baby,” you repeated. “The end of summer’s gonna get real busy for us.” Yoongi’s smile grew, it grew so big he had to laugh.

“Oh my god,” he exhaled, his words barely audible. He kissed you, and then he kissed you again. “I love you so much.”

Letting your hand fall down to his left shoulder, you gave him the gentlest squeeze, and smiled. “I love you too, D.”

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