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sleepyhoon · 6 months ago

Text

✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayal (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!hs, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni. very cliche shit. reader doesn’t know much abt sex tbh.

✰ synopsis. — Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of, "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ a/n. revamping this from my bts acc with heeseung this time bc im absolutely obsessed with this couple and need them to exist in every possible universe :P revamping part 2 as we speak and ill post in a few days hehe

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Lee Chaeryeong isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Heeseung is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Heeseung very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Chaeryeong for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Chaeryeong, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Chaeryeong delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Chaeryeong knows Heeseung won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Chaeryeong if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Heeseung's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Heeseung stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Chaeryeong is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Heeseung to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Heeseung interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Heeseung definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Heeseung hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Chaeryeong you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Chaeryeong posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Heeseung posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Heeseung farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Heeseung responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Heeseung's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Chaeryeong brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Heeseung on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Heeseung's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Chaeryeong (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Heeseung was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Heeseung finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Chaeryeong moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Chaeryeong for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Chaeryeong about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Chaeryeong has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Chaeryeong. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Chaeryeong looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Chaeryeong has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Chaeryeong even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Chaeryeong would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Chaeryeong questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Chaeryeong pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Chaeryeong suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Heeseung. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Chaeryeong's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Chaeryeong towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Chaeryeong squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Chaeryeong throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Heeseung steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Chaeryeong's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Heeseung looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Chaeryeong, you wait with her in the hallway until Heeseung arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Chaeryeong protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Chaeryeong is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Heeseung says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Chaeryeong glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Heeseung, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Chaeryeong to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Heeseung scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Chaeryeong nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Heeseung is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Chaeryeong mumbles, barely able to look Heeseung in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Chaeryeong glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Heeseung flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Chaeryeong shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Heeseung's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Chaeryeong asks the exact question you had.

Heeseung shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Chaeryeong exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Chaeryeong questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Heeseung says he's taking the two of you home. Chaeryeong, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Chaeryeong is really good at getting what she wants, or if Heeseung was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Heeseung scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Heeseung! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Heeseung just referred to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Heeseung had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

—

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Chaeryeong has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Chaeryeong," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Chaeryeong is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Heeseung's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Chaeryeong gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Chaeryeong snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Heeseung? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Chaeryeong gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Heeseung's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Chaeryeong shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Heeseung.

You go to respond, but Heeseung, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Chaeryeong opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Heeseung calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Chaeryeong more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Chaeryeong and Heeseung bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Heeseung even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Heeseung parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Chaeryeong questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Heeseung turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Chaeryeong points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Heeseung had in her.

You turn to go, but Heeseung's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Heeseung shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Heeseung because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Chaeryeong, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Chaeryeong shushes you, gesturing that Heeseung is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Heeseung genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Heeseung resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Heeseung humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Chaeryeong was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Sunghoon, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Heeseung does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Heeseung. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Heeseung, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Chaeryeong get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Chaeryeong is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Chaeryeong clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Heeseung strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Chaeryeong wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Chaeryeong makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Chaeryeong bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Heeseung's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Chaeryeong wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Chaeryeong if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Heeseung directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Heeseung's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Heeseung raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Heeseung looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Heeseung asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Heeseung on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Heeseung can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Heeseung…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Heeseung doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Heeseung makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Heeseung is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Heeseung.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Heeseung catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Heeseung was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Heeseung must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Heeseung nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Heeseung picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Heeseung finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Heeseung in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Chaeryeong will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Heeseung awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Heeseung reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Heeseung had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Chaeryeong you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Lee sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Chaeryeong finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

#enhypen smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen imagine #heeseung imagine #lee heeseung smut #enhypen scenario #heeseung scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop scencario #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader

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lovelyspring7 · 8 months ago

Text

Silver Pearl (Pt. 2) | Yandere JJK x Reader

Preview: Jungkook is used to getting what he wants, and now, he wants you. Saying "no" isn’t an option. Will you find a way to break free from his relentless grip, or is freedom just an illusion in the billionaire’s twisted mind?

Word count: 13k

Genre: Yandere

Pairing: CEO Billionaire Jungkook x reader, short mentions of Cha Eunwoo & Jung Jaehyun.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, non consensual touching, manipulation, controlling & emotionally abusive behaviour.

Disclaimer: This type of content is not suitable for all audiences and I do not condone any of the presented behaviour. This is purely for entertainment and fictional purposes and I don’t think any BTS member would act like this.

Authors note: The second part of Pearl series is here! Hope you enjoy! Can’t wait to know what you guys think of this long awaited chapter, my asks are always open!💜

Read Part 1 Here | Read Part 3 Here

With trembling legs, you let Jungkook guide you back to the bedroom. His grip on your hand was gentle, but the fear lingering in your chest made your entire body tense. The warmth of his touch, once comforting, now felt like a chain binding you to him.

You couldn’t believe how quickly everything had spiraled. Just hours ago, he was affectionate, kind even, and now... Now, the man standing before you was a stranger, someone whose darkness you had never truly seen until tonight.

As you entered the bedroom, Jungkook released your hand and sighed, rubbing his neck as though the tension of the evening had caught up to him. You stood near the door, watching him closely, unsure of your next move.

Jungkook’s smile softened as he turned to you, almost as if the events from earlier hadn’t happened. “Come here, princess.” He patted the bed beside him, his eyes urging you to comply.

You hesitated, but his gaze darkened, and you knew that defying him right now wasn’t an option. Slowly, you made your way over to the bed and sat down, keeping your distance from him.

He noticed but said nothing, instead reaching over to pull you closer. You flinched slightly, but Jungkook ignored it, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as if it was the most natural thing. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I could never hurt you.”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to spill. How could he speak so calmly, as if he hadn't just confessed he had someone killed? As if you weren’t trapped?

He stroked your hair, his voice a low murmur. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I promise, everything I do is for you, princess.”

Your stomach twisted, anger and fear bubbling just beneath the surface, but you forced yourself to stay still.

Jungkook leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’ll see,” he whispered against your skin. “You’ll see that this is how it’s supposed to be.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to hold back the sob that was building. But Jungkook noticed your shaking body, his brows furrowing in concern. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re just overwhelmed.”

“I-I’m tired,” you whispered, hoping he’d give you space.

He paused, then nodded, giving you a small understanding smile. “Of course. You’ve had a long day.”

Jungkook stood up and helped you under the covers, tucking you in with a tenderness that felt so out of place after everything that had happened. You watched as he moved around the bedroom, dimming the lights and making his way to the other side of the bed. He slid under the covers beside you, pulling you close to him. His arms wrapped around you, caging you in. You could feel his heartbeat against your back. It was steady, calm, completely at odds with the storm of emotions raging inside you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he whispered into the darkness, his lips brushing against the back of your neck.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you lay there, trapped in his embrace.

As Jungkook’s arms tightened around you, the weight of everything crashed down. Your heart pounded in your chest, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t slow your racing thoughts. The room was quiet, but your mind was a storm.

Lying there, trapped in his embrace, the reality of what you had gotten yourself into settled in, cold and suffocating. You didn’t dare to move. Tears welled in your eyes, hot and uncontrollable. You blinked hard, trying to stop them from spilling, but it was no use. Slowly, silently, they rolled down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet. You couldn’t let him know. You couldn’t let him see you like this. He might ask questions, might tighten his grip, the last thing you wanted was for him to notice.

The warmth of his body behind you felt suffocating, a reminder of how close he always was, how there was no escaping him. The man you once thought was kind and protective had revealed something far darker, something far more dangerous. You’d never felt more alone, more trapped.

Fucking rich people.

How did this happen? How have you gotten yourself into this? You cursed yourself, cursed the choices that led you here, cursed him for being so cruel under the surface of his affection. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You buried your face deeper into the pillow, muffling any sound that might slip out. The sobs you held back were painful, your throat raw from trying to stay quiet, but you had no choice. You had to be strong, had to stay silent. For now, that was the only thing you could control.

You lay there for what felt like hours, the tears eventually slowing as exhaustion began to weigh down on you. But even as sleep finally pulled you under, a deep, gnawing fear lingered in the pit of your stomach.

__________

As you stirred from sleep, your body felt heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion of a restless, sleepless night. Your head pounded, and your eyes were swollen from the silent crying that had consumed you hours before. The fear that had gripped you the night before lingered, but it wasn’t the same. As you lay there in the empty bed, staring at the ceiling, something else began to stir inside you.

Anger.

The sadness and fear that had paralyzed you last night shifted into a burning rage. The more you thought about it, the more the fury built. How could he act this way, treat you like something he owned, then sleep so peacefully beside you as if nothing had happened? It was sickening. It was maddening. He had controlled you with his words, his touch, trapping you, and you were done being afraid.

You threw the covers off and sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cold floor beneath your feet doing nothing to calm the anger simmering in your chest.

The scent of sweet vanilla wafted through the air, drawing your attention to the faint sounds of movement coming from the kitchen. He was up, and from the smell of it, making breakfast like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t terrified you into submission last night.

You walked to the door, every step fueled by the fire raging inside you. Reaching the kitchen, you saw him standing there, humming softly to himself, completely at ease as he moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

Jungkook glanced up as you entered, his face lighting up with a smile that felt so wrong given everything that had happened. “Good morning, princess,” he said warmly, “Sleep well?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, the fury bubbling up again. He was acting like nothing had happened. How could he be so calm, so collected?

“Come sit down,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

You stood there, staring at his back, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. He hadn’t even acknowledged the hell he put you through last night. You wanted to scream from how frustrated you were. But instead, you swallowed down the anger, pushing it deep inside for now.

Without saying a word, you walked over to the table and sat down. Jungkook continued to hum softly, oblivious to the storm building inside you.

But for now, you waited.

Jungkook set the plate in front of you with a wide, satisfied smile. Pancakes, perfectly golden and stacked high, topped with fresh berries and drizzled with syrup. The sweet scent of vanilla and sugar filled the air, tempting and warm. It was one of your favorites, something he knew well.

He sat down across from you, still acting like everything was perfectly normal. “I made them just the way you like,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate.

You stared at the pancakes, unmoving. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table as you felt the anger inside you start to rise again.

Jungkook looked up when you didn’t immediately dig in. “What’s wrong baby, you don't like pancakes anymore?” He asked with curiosity.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the untouched pancakes in front of you.

You lifted your gaze, and there he was, watching you intently. His jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, breaking the tense silence.

“You were so good to me last night,” his voice was calm, but edged with something darker. “So why the sudden change?”

“Eat.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

“I said, I'm not hungry.” You bite back.

He exhaled through his nose as he put his fork down.

“What? Are you mad that things aren't going your way for once?” It was a bold sentence but it needed to be said. You weren't going to let him have his way with you. Staring back at him you saw how his jaw visibly clenched, irritation flickering across his features as he fought to maintain his composure.

“I’m gonna ask you one last time,” he said, voice steady but charged, “Eat your breakfast.”

“No.”

The word barely left your mouth before he stood abruptly, the force of it sending your heart racing. Before you could process what was happening, his hands were on you, lifting you out of your chair with a swift, almost casual strength. He carried you toward the kitchen counter, his grip firm but controlled. He set you down on the cold, smooth surface, positioning you so that you were sitting on the edge, your legs dangling. The cold countertop sent a shiver through you, but it was nothing compared to the icy tension in the air.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he muttered, his breath warm against your ear, his tone a dangerous mix of exasperation and something much darker.

Your breath caught as he stood close, his presence overwhelming. Panic flickered at the edges of your mind, but you forced yourself to stay calm, pushing down the fear. His grip remained firm, yet disturbingly gentle, as though he was handling something delicate, something he could break if he chose.

“Let me go,” you demanded, your voice shaky but defiant.

He paused, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a crack in your resolve. Submission, perhaps. Doubt. He wanted to see you break, but you wouldn’t.

“You’re testing me,” he said, his voice low and threatening, but his hold on you never tightened. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” his gaze drilling into yours.

“I’m not your doll,” you said through gritted teeth, meeting his stare head-on, refusing to let him see the fear in you.

His lips curled into something resembling a smile, but there was no warmth in it, only cold amusement. “Doll?” he echoed, his voice soft but dangerous. “No baby. But you’re mine. And you’ll do as I say.”

You could feel your pulse pounding in your temples, but you didn’t look away. “No, I won't.”

His expression darkened, and for a split second, something almost like disappointment flashed in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that unnerving calm. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“You’re going to eat,” he whispered, his voice like velvet over steel. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

His words wrapped around you, sickly sweet yet suffocating, the threat lingering beneath his loving tone impossible to ignore. He put his hand on your chin and held it firm, his thumb tracing your lip with unsettling affection. The way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world, only made the whole situation feel even more twisted.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you hated yourself for it—the crack of desperation he would no doubt savor.

He tilted his head, his expression softening into something almost affectionate, his thumb pausing its slow movement. “Please?” he whispered back, as if you’d just said something sweet. His grip relaxed, but not enough for you to break free. “Oh, Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. But you don’t have to be. Everything I do, it’s for us. To keep you safe and close to me, to give you everything you deserve and more.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck, cradling you as if you were delicate, breakable. “Be good for me.” he murmured, his voice a gentle lullaby laced with obsession.

His closeness was suffocating, his words dripping with a distorted kind of love that made your skin crawl. “This isn’t okay,” you managed to say, your voice trembling as you met his gaze, refusing to let him see how completely terrified you were.

He smiled, but it was filled with a dark, dangerous affection, as though he found your defiance adorable rather than threatening. “You’ll understand one day,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening just slightly at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ll see how much I care.”

He straightened, his gaze locking onto yours again, and in that moment, you could see how deep his obsession ran, how far he was willing to go. He gently released his hold on your neck and stepped back, his eyes still glued to you, watching every breath you took.

“Now,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, “you’re going to eat. And you’re going to stop fighting me, my love. You understand that?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every fiber of your being screaming to run, but you were trapped—trapped by his words, by the twisted love in his eyes, by the knowledge that he would never let you go.

He slowly stepped back, leaving you on the cold countertop as he walked to the table to grab the plate of pancakes. When he returned, he held it in front of you.

You got goosebumps as you stared down at the plate, the pancakes now cold and uninviting, but it wasn't the food that made you hesitate. It was the weight of his gaze on you, expectant and unwavering, his dark eyes daring you to defy him again. You could feel the unspoken threat hanging in the air, just beneath the thin veneer of affection he wore so well.

Slowly, you reached for the fork, your fingers trembling as they closed around the handle. You weren't hungry. You could barely breathe, let alone eat, but refusing him again felt like

stepping into something far more dangerous. You could sense his satisfaction as you lifted the fork to your mouth, even though every movement felt like surrender.

"That's it," he murmured softly, his voice low and filled with twisted pride, as though he'd just coaxed a frightened animal into trusting him. "Good girl. See how easy it can be when you stop fighting?"

The words made your stomach churn, but you swallowed the bite, forcing yourself not to react. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he affected you. Every inch of your body screamed to run, to push the plate away, but you knew he wouldn't allow that. Not now. Not ever.

He watched you closely, eyes flickering with possessive adoration as you took another bite. It wasn't the food he was concerned with, it was your submission, your compliance, the quiet thrill he got from watching you bend to his will. "That's my girl," he whispered, his fingers brushing your hair back, tucking it gently behind your ear. His touch was soft, almost tender, but it made your skin crawl all the same. "I knew you'd come around. You just need a little... encouragement."

You set the fork down, unable to stomach another bite, but the gesture didn't seem to bother him. He stepped closer, standing between your knees now, his hands resting lightly on your thighs, his thumbs tracing small circles in a way that would've been comforting if it weren't him.

"I do this because I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing your skin in an unsettling mockery of a kiss. "I know you haven't seen it yet, but you will. You'll understand. No one will ever care for you like I do. No one will ever love you like I do."

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse hammered in your ears. “You can't force me to feel the same," you whispered, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He paused, his lips still hovering near your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd pushed too far. But then, he smiled- a slow, unsettling smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, Princess," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You don't have to say it. I can see it in you, even if you don't realize it yet. I'll wait.”

His hands slid up your thighs, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm patient, you see. I'm willing to wait until you come to your senses. But make no mistake," he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours now, the intimacy of it sickening, "you're mine. Whether you admit it now or later, it doesn't matter. You belong to me."

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself not to tremble under his intense gaze. He lingered there, his breath warm against your mouth, daring you to react. When you stayed silent, he straightened, the satisfaction in his expression unmistakable.

"Good," he whispered, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling away. He turned his back, walking calmly to the sink, as though the entire conversation had been perfectly normal. "You'll see, love. One day, you'll thank me for all of this."

__________

After finishing breakfast and clearing the table, you felt the need to wash away the lingering tension from the morning. You turned to him, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey, I’m going to take a shower,” you said, heading toward the bathroom.

He looked up from where he was drying the dishes, his brow furrowing slightly. “A shower? Why now?”

“Just to freshen up,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I feel a bit gross after breakfast.”

He put the dish towel down, turning his full attention to you. “I can help with that,” he said, his voice low and slightly playful.

You hesitated, a slight chill running down your spine. “That’s okay. I can manage on my own.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he maintained calm. “You know I just want to help you feel good. How about I join you?”

You took a step back, a mix of apprehension and defiance flooding your mind. “I’d really rather be alone right now,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone firm but sweet. “It’s just a quick shower.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening, but you could sense the underlying tension. “You don’t need to be alone. I can make it more enjoyable. We could have fun together.”

“I just need a few minutes to myself,” you said, keeping your gaze steady. “Please, can’t you let me have that?”

For a moment, he looked taken aback, as if your request was unexpected. But then his expression hardened, the warmth fading from his eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me,” he replied, his voice steady but tinged with frustration.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not hiding. I just want some space to gather my thoughts. That’s all.”

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening slightly.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” you insisted, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll be right in the bathroom. You can stay close if that makes you feel better.”

He considered your words for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. Finally, he sighed, stepping back a little. “Fine, super quick then. I don’t want to be away from you for too long.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you.

As you headed into the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, watching as you closed the door. You turned on the water, letting it run as you leaned against the cool tiles. You needed this time alone to clear your head, to breathe without his suffocating presence hovering over you.

As the warm water cascaded over you in the shower, you allowed yourself a few precious moments to breathe. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of the water to drown out the thoughts of him.

What could you do to escape him? It was a dangerous game, but you had to find a way. You needed a strategy, a way to manipulate him into letting his guard down. If you played your cards right, you might be able to find a window of opportunity to slip away.

Your mind raced as you lathered shampoo into your hair. First, you needed to build his trust. You’d seen how quickly his mood could shift from affectionate to possessive, and you had to navigate that carefully. If you could make him believe that you were accepting of his love, that you were starting to see things his way, perhaps he would let you have more freedom, time alone, maybe even time away from him.

Once you rinsed out the shampoo, you continued your thoughts, focusing on the idea of creating a facade of compliance. “I can play along,” you thought, the water washing away not just the soap, but your anxiety as well. If I show him that I’m willing to embrace his twisted version of love, he might relax his grip.

Maybe you could start asking for small favors, things that seemed harmless but could lead to more significant opportunities. If you could convince him to let you go to school, or to see a friend, it would give you the chance to formulate a real escape plan. You could text someone for help or find a way to contact the outside world without him knowing.

The idea of appearing genuinely affectionate could work to your advantage too. If you made him believe that you cared for him, that you were falling into his idea of love, he might not suspect anything. You could ask to do something nice for him, like cooking dinner or watching a movie together, to further endear yourself to him. Keeping him engaged and distracted would be crucial.

Rinsing off the last of the soap on your body, you rehearsed the plan in your head. Every word had to be perfect. You needed to make him feel reassured, secure in the idea that you were staying, that you belonged to him, because if you could make him believe that, maybe, just maybe, he’d let his guard down. And that sliver of trust could be your chance to escape.

Wrapping yourself in a white plush robe, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. As you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, Jungkook was already there, waiting. His eyes immediately flicked over you, and there was something possessive in the way he watched, as if even a moment without you was too long.

“See? I told you I’d be quick,” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

His gaze softened slightly as he smiled back at you, and for a moment, you felt a rush of confidence. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a way out of this after all.

“Feeling better, princess?” he asked softly, though his eyes held an edge. “I picked out something for you.”

You glanced at the clothes laid out on the bed, one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. You hesitated, trying to keep your expression neutral. Wearing his clothes would make him feel in control. But you needed to give him the illusion that you were trying to please him while still asserting some level of independence, and can't go from a zero to a hundred.

You forced a small smile. “Thank you, Jungkook, but I was thinking I could pick out something myself today. Maybe one of my old clothes?” Your voice was light, casual, like it was no big deal.

He crossed the room in just a few strides, standing close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read something hidden in your words. “You don’t like what I picked out for you?” His voice was low, but it carried a sharp undertone. A test.

You swallowed, keeping your gaze soft and affectionate, even as tension wound tight in your chest. “It’s not that. I just thought it’d be fun to wear something different. But if you want me to wear this, I will.” You reached out to touch the hoodie, hoping the gesture would calm him.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened briefly, but his eyes softened as they roamed your face, as if trying to understand you fully. Gently, he lifted his hand to cup your chin, his thumb grazing your cheek tenderly. He tilted your head up, making you meet his gaze.

“You don’t have to worry, my love,” he murmured, his voice warm but firm. “I’ll always take care of you. Let me handle everything, okay.”

His words were filled with affection, but beneath them, there was still an unmistakable note of control.

You fought against the instinct to pull away, keeping your voice soft and steady. “I know, and I’m trying. I just thought you might like seeing me in something else, something like silk. But I’ll wear whatever you want.”

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of his gaze heavy on your skin. Then, finally, his lips twitched into a small, satisfied smile. The decision was final in his smile.

As Jungkook reached for the robe, you instinctively tightened your grip on it, he gently tugged it from your grasp. Panic flared in your chest as the soft fabric slipped down, but you reacted quickly, clutching the robe just before it fully exposed you. Only your shoulder and part of your collarbone were visible, the rest of the robe held tightly against your chest.

His eyes traced the newly exposed skin, lingering for a moment, before flicking up to meet your gaze. A mix of emotions flickered in his expression, something between satisfaction and curiosity, as though he was testing your boundaries, watching how far you’d go to resist.

“You don’t need to hide from me,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, though laced with possessiveness.

You grip firmly on the robe as you carefully shielded yourself.

Ironically, even then as a stripper, you’d never shown much of yourself. Most of the outfits you wore, body suits and lingerie, had always covered more than they revealed. It was a kind of armor, a way to maintain some control over your own body, despite the prying eyes watching you night after night.

He paused, clearly not used to being denied, even in such a small way. His hand brushed your arm, fingers ghosting over your bare shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, as you let him pull the hoodie down over your head. Even as the oversized fabric enveloped you, you kept your grip on the robe beneath it, protecting yourself, both from the cold and from the vulnerability of being completely exposed to him.

As Jungkook stepped back, admiring how the hoodie looked on you, his gaze shifted to your wet hair, droplets falling onto the fabric. He frowned slightly, a hint of concern crossing his face. "Your hair's dripping water" he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand behind your ear. "I don’t want you catching a cold."

Without waiting for your response, he turned toward the vanity. "Let me get you a hair tie."

As soon as his back was turned, your heart raced, knowing you had just seconds. You glanced quickly at the bed where the sweatpants were lying. Without thinking, you dropped the robe that was covering your waist down. Moving swiftly but silently, you grabbed the sweatpants and stepped into them, pulling them up just as Jungkook returned with the hair tie in hand.

His eyes immediately went to the sweatpants now covering your legs. For a brief moment, his smile faltered, and you could see a flicker of disappointment in his expression. His gaze lingered on the fabric, and the tension between you grew heavier.

He had been expecting something different, a chance to savor the control he had over you in this moment, and now, it was slipping. You saw the sadness in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable, as he handed you the hair tie.

"You were quick," he said softly, his tone gentle but tinged with regret. His fingers brushed the fabric of the sweatpants lightly, as if he were reconsidering what to say next. "I just wanted to help."

You forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. "I know," you replied, taking the hair tie from him. "I just got cold and... I thought it would be better." You paused, meeting his eyes, hoping the reassurance in your voice was enough. "But I appreciate everything you do for me. Really."

He exhaled slowly, his hand falling back to his side. He nodded, though you could still feel that lingering disappointment in the air.

“Let’s not think about it too much, okay?” he said, his voice dipping into that sweet tone he used when trying to soothe over any conflict. “Why don’t we relax for a bit? We could watch a movie, something we both enjoy. How about that?”

You nodded, keeping the smile on your face. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

Without another word, Jungkook took your hand and guided you toward the living room, where the plush couch awaited. As he set up the movie, you could feel his presence behind you, close and attentive, his fingers brushing your back as if testing the waters. Once everything was ready, he sat down next to you, immediately pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

As the movie went on, you could feel his eyes on you more than the screen. Every so often, his hands would drift, brushing over your thighs, running along your back, and occasionally tightening as if to remind you that you were his. His touch became bolder, more insistent, until it started to feel like he was less interested in the movie and more focused on you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to redirect his attention to the screen. "This part's really good," you said lightly, gesturing toward the TV, but he wasn’t paying attention. His lips pressed against your neck, lingering there for longer than you wanted. Your heart raced as you tried to stay calm, forcing a nervous laugh.

"Jungkook... maybe we can just-"

Before you could finish, his phone buzzed, cutting through the moment like a lifeline. His grip on you loosened slightly, he took out the phone with a sigh, frustration flashing in his eyes.

"Hold on, just one second," he murmured. His fingers lingered on your waist for a moment before he finally pulled away completely and gently moved you aside, standing as he answered the call. His voice shifted, going from soft to firm and businesslike. "Yeah? What is it?"

He paced across the room, his back to you now, as he discussed something about a meeting that needed his attention. You sat there, your heart still pounding from the intensity of his closeness, but now relieved by the brief reprieve.

Jungkook shot you a glance, his expression torn between annoyance at the interruption and reluctance to leave you alone. "I have to take care of something at work," he said, his tone clipped but apologetic. "I’ll be back before dinner. Just stay here, okay? I'll make it quick."

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and watched as he gathered his things.

Jungkook lingered by the door, his hand on the handle as he turned back to face you. His expression softened, but there was something darker underneath- a warning, a reminder of control. He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret while I’m gone, princess,” he said quietly, his voice firm yet gentle, as if coaxing you into compliance. “And I really don’t want us to do anything we’ll both regret.” The words, though calm, carried an unmistakable edge.

Your stomach twisted at the unspoken threat in his tone. You forced yourself to smile, nodding obediently. “Of course. I’ll just stay here, wait for you to come back,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He moved closer again, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a little too long. “Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers gently gripping your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. “I’ll know if you try anything. Don’t forget that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, his thumb tracing your lower lip in a way that made your skin crawl despite the tenderness. He was always like this, smothering affection masking something far more dangerous. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment too long before he pulled away.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, a twisted warmth in his tone. “Be good while I’m gone.” With that, he stepped away, finally exiting the room, but not before casting one last look over his shoulder, as if ensuring you understood exactly what he expected.

You heard the door click shut, the sound echoing in your ears like a warning bell. Your mind racing, trying to process everything. He hadn’t locked the door, not this time, but you knew better than to believe you could just walk out without consequence. There would be cameras, perhaps even people watching.

A part of you wanted to rush for the door, but you knew better. You had to be smart, strategic. Trying to escape now would only tighten his grip, making things even worse. If you were going to find a way out, it had to be subtle, planned, and with no room for error.

Taking a shaky breath. For now, you had to play the part.

You stood there for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the apartment after Jungkook left. The air felt heavy, as though his presence still lingered, even though you were alone now. But his words echoed in your mind: “I’ll know if you try anything.”

You forced yourself to breathe slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. You couldn't act hastily, not now. You glanced toward the door, freedom, but not without consequences. You had no idea what surveillance systems or traps he might have in place. You knew he was possessive enough to ensure you wouldn’t just slip out without him knowing. He always had control, even when he wasn’t physically there.

You looked around the apartment, your mind running through all the possibilities, all the things he could be watching. Cameras? Maybe. Some kind of alert system? You couldn’t rule it out. You’d learned early on that he wasn’t the kind of person to leave anything to chance.

Carefully, you walked toward the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peek outside. You were several stories up. Jumping wasn’t an option.

Your mind buzzed with ideas, trying to balance hope with fear. What could you do now to buy yourself more time, more trust? You knew you had to be smart, to play along even when it felt suffocating. Maybe this time, when he returned, you could act more compliant, give him a reason to believe you were falling in line. You just needed him to let his guard down a little more.

With a sigh, you moved back to the couch, deciding it was safer to wait. You couldn’t make any rash decisions. Not yet.

As you sat, your mind shifted back to Jungkook’s behavior, his unsettling mix of affection and control. He truly believed he was doing this out of love, protecting you, caring for you. That delusion fueled his every action, and it made him unpredictable. You knew you had to carefully navigate his moods. Push too hard, and he’d snap. Give in too much, and you’d lose yourself completely.

You fiddled with the hem of his oversized hoodie he had dressed you in, the material soft against your skin, and the subtle scent of laundry detergent. You had to stay calm, stay strategic. Maybe you could make dinner for him. A way to show him you were being “good,” just as he expected.

As you made your way to the kitchen, an idea came to mind: Bibimbap. It was simple, comforting, and reminded you of times when things were easier. Back when you had to scrape together whatever ingredients you had just to make a meal, tossing them into a bowl of rice with a bit of protein.

You opened the fridge and scanned for what you needed. There were eggs, some vegetables, and a bit of leftover beef, perfect for what you had in mind. Cooking could help settle your nerves, and more importantly, it could keep Jungkook happy.

Just as you were about to place the fried egg in the bowl for the final touch, you heard the front door open. He was back, sooner than expected. Your heart jumped into your throat, and you quickly composed yourself, forcing a soft smile as you turned toward him.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room briefly before landing on you. There was a strange relief in his expression, as if he had been expecting to find you somewhere you shouldn’t be. He smiled, walking over to you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

"You’re still here. Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and possession. "I’m glad you didn’t try anything… disappointing."

You swallowed hard, maintaining the calm facade. "Of course not," you whispered, keeping your tone steady. "I was waiting for you."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, like he truly believed this twisted version of love. He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms, his touch tight yet oddly gentle. "Let’s spend the rest of the evening together, just us," he said quietly, his lips brushing your temple. "I want to enjoy every second with you."

You nodded, leaning into his embrace, knowing that for now, you had no choice but to play along. Each small victory would build toward something bigger, toward an escape.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulled back and grabbed the bowl of food you had prepared from the counter, setting it down next to you. Without a word, he picked up a spoon, his expression calm. He scooped some food from the bowl, and turned toward you with a faint smile.

"You know," he said, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and something darker, "I think you need a little help."

Before you could respond, he brought the spoon closer to your lips, his gaze unwavering. "Open up," he commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Your heart raced, instinctively pulling back. "I can feed myself," you protested, but the tremor in your voice betrayed your fear.

“Not today,” he replied, leaning closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours with unsettling intensity. “You’re going to let me feed you.”

“Look at it this way,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the side of your face. “It’s a way for you to make up for your bad behavior from this morning. All is forgiven now.” His tone was almost gentle, as if offering you a gift wrapped in his twisted logic.

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew what he meant, your resistance earlier, your small acts of defiance. They hadn’t gone unnoticed. Every decision you made, every hesitation, was another test to him, and now, by complying, you were wiping the slate clean. At least in his eyes.

You forced yourself to nod, your throat tight. "I’m glad everything’s okay now," you whispered, trying to match his calm tone, though the words felt hollow.

He smiled again, "That’s my girl," he murmured.

"We’ll be fine as long as you keep behaving." He held the spoon near your lips, the savory scent mixing with the rising anxiety in your chest. You felt trapped, the weight of his control suffocating as the desire to resist clashed violently with the fear of what he might do if you refused.

"Just one bite," he urged, his voice deceptively gentle. "That’s all I ask. You might even like it."

You hesitated, the spoon hovering inches from your mouth. His breath brushed your skin, warm and suffocating, and despite every fiber of your being screaming to resist, you reluctantly parted your lips. He fed you the bite, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction as you chewed.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, his voice laced with twisted affection. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on the way he savored your submission, each bite you took a victory for him. He continued feeding you, the act a power play more than an act of care. “Good girl,” he murmured again, his praise becoming a sickly sweet reminder of how much he enjoyed your obedience.

You swallowed the last bite, but before you could protest, he was already lifting another spoonful to your lips. "No more," you whispered, shaking your head. But he only smiled, unbothered by your plea.

“You’re not done yet,” he replied, his voice still calm but now carrying a subtle warning. “You need to eat. I won’t let you starve yourself.”

Each bite felt like a slow erosion of your autonomy, a surrender to the web of control he had wrapped around you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he set the spoon down and wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“There. Good. Now, was that so hard?” he asked, his smile widening, a smug satisfaction radiating from him.

You could barely hold back the bile rising in your throat as he tilted his head, his eyes flashing with something dark and possessive. “Soon, you’ll see things my way.”

__________

The days blurred together in a suffocating routine after that morning. Each day, you played your part, becoming the perfect version of the person Jungkook wanted you to be, feeding into his twisted fantasy of love and control. You adapted, not out of choice, but out of survival, carefully treading the fine line between submission and manipulation.

Jungkook, on the surface, seemed content. Every morning, he’d wake you with soft kisses, his arms tight around you as he whispered promises of love. You’d smile, kiss him back, and play along, even when every touch made your skin crawl. Breakfast was always a quiet ritual, with him feeding you more often than not, his gaze watching your every move, ensuring you didn’t deviate from his expectations.

In the afternoons, he’d insist on spending time together, whether it was watching TV or simply lounging around. His arms were always around you, his touch never far. It was smothering, but you endured it, knowing that resistance would only tighten his grip. You began to flatter him, giving him small, calculated compliments, making him believe that you were starting to see things his way. Each word was carefully crafted, designed to earn his trust, to keep him from suspecting that behind your compliance was a growing determination to escape.

You started doing more for him, small acts of care that fed into his obsession. You made his favorite meals, dressed in clothes he picked out for you, and even initiated moments of affection, all while hiding the fear and anger that simmered beneath the surface. You needed him to believe you were falling in line, that you were happy, even when the chains around you grew tighter every day.

And he did believe it. The more you played into his fantasy, the more he relaxed. He started leaving you alone for short periods, his possessiveness loosening just enough to give you moments of freedom. But even then, you knew he was watching. There were cameras, there had to be. You could feel his presence, even when he wasn’t there.

Yet, despite the facade you maintained, the anger inside you grew. Every time he praised you for being his "good girl," every time he fed you like a child or held you too tight, it fueled the fire burning in your chest. You hated how easily he controlled your life, how he believed you were his to command.

But you also knew that anger wasn’t enough. If you were going to escape, you had to be smart. You needed to play the long game, to lull him into a sense of security. Every smile, every affectionate word, was a brick in the wall you were building between you and his suspicions. Slowly, carefully, you were laying the groundwork for your escape.

As the days passed, Jungkook grew more comfortable with your “submission.” He praised you often, told you how proud he was of how you were “adjusting” to his love. Each time he said it, your heart twisted, but you forced a smile, knowing that it was part of the plan. The more he believed in your compliance, the more likely he was to slip, to give you the opening you needed.

But for now, you remain trapped in the routine, your every move calculated, your words carefully chosen. The slivers of freedom he gave you were small, but they were enough for now. You knew that eventually, the trust you were building would be your key to escape. It had to be.

You sat on the couch, curled up under a soft blanket, your legs stretched out across Jungkook’s lap. He was working, as he often did these days, typing on his laptop with one hand while absentmindedly rubbing your feet and calf with the other. The quiet sound of his fingers on the keyboard and the gentle pressure of his touch were strangely soothing, but the tension in your chest refused to ease.

Your book, Gone Girl, lay open in your lap. It had been months since you’d had time to read for pleasure, back when your life was a whirlwind of school and juggling two jobs. Now, though, things were different. Your days were long, filled with a strange mixture of peace and suffocation, where the boundaries of control and submission were constantly shifting.

Jungkook had been working from home more often lately, his gaze flicking between you and his computer screen. He liked having you near, a constant presence that fed into his need to know where you were, what you were doing, at all times. You had grown accustomed to it, the way he monitored your movements even when his attention seemed elsewhere. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the fact that he'd been in a particularly good mood recently, satisfied with how you were behaving.

You glanced at him over the top of your book, the glow of his laptop reflecting off his features. He looked calm, focused on his work. Now felt like the right time to bring it up. You’d been absent from school for weeks, your professors likely wondering where you had gone. But more importantly, your final exam was approaching. If you missed it, you wouldn’t pass the course you've fought sleepless for.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. It wasn’t that you were afraid of asking, Jungkook rarely reacted harshly to your questions, but the idea of returning to school, even for an exam, meant the possibility of freedom. And you knew how he felt about that.

Still, you had to try.

“Babe,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light and casual, “I’ve been thinking about school.”

His fingers paused on your leg, just for a second, before continuing their gentle massage. His eyes remained fixed on his screen, though you knew he was listening intently.

“What about school?” he asked, his tone even, though you sensed a hint of curiosity beneath it.

“I’ve been gone for a while now,” you continued carefully. “I still need to take my final exams at the end of the month if I want to graduate.”

There was a brief silence, the sound of his typing slowing to a stop. He finally looked at you, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to gauge your intentions.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said quietly, his hand tightening slightly around your calf. “School isn’t something you need to worry about anymore. You’re with me now.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to stay calm. You couldn’t afford to push too hard. “I know, but graduating is important to me. It’s something I worked really hard for, and I just need one more year before I graduate. After that, I’ll be done.”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t change, but his grip on your leg remained firm. He seemed to consider your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the request. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the risk of letting you out of his sight, even for something as seemingly harmless as an exam.

“I don’t like the idea of you going back there,” he said finally, his voice soft but edged with tension. “Too many people. Too many distractions.”

“I’ll only go for the exam,” you promised, your voice gentle but firm. “I won’t stay longer than I need to. Just in and out. You can even drop me off and pick me up, if that makes you feel better.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his thumb idly rubbing small circles on your ankle. You could see the conflict in his eyes, his desire to give you what you wanted clashing with his need to control every aspect of your life.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll think about it,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed. “But I don’t want you getting any ideas. You know how much I care about you.”

“I know,” you whispered, relief washing over you even as a knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach. You had planted the seed. Now you just had to hope it would grow into an opportunity, one that you could use to finally reclaim a piece of your freedom.

__________

Three days had passed since that conversation, and the knot in your stomach had only tightened. The exam was fast approaching, and you could feel the weight of it looming over you, just as much as the constant, watchful presence of Jungkook. He hadn’t brought it up again, and you were too afraid to push the topic further just yet. But the clock was ticking, and you knew that soon, you’d have to.

Jungkook had been busier than usual lately, ever since his father passed away. The responsibilities that came with running the family business had doubled, and you could see the strain in his face, in the way he carried himself. He spent hours in his office, buried in paperwork, his attention consumed by the demands of the company.

You sat on the armchair in the corner of his office, reading the book in your lap, though you hadn’t turned a page in the past thirty minutes. Instead, your eyes kept drifting toward him, watching the focused look on his face as he scribbled notes or typed away at his computer. The tension in the room was palpable, even though neither of you had said a word for the last hour.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, the fatigue clear in his movements. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples, clearly feeling the pressure of everything on his shoulders. You knew he hated being questioned or distracted when he was like this, but you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Jungkook,” you said softly, careful to keep your tone gentle.

He didn’t look up right away, but you saw the slight tightening of his jaw, a telltale sign that he had heard you. After a moment, he placed his pen down and finally met your gaze.

“What is it sweetheart?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with exhaustion.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your courage. “I know you’ve been thinking about it… and I appreciate it. But the exam is only a few days away. I really need to know what we’re going to do.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly, but his expression remained controlled. “You don’t need to worry about the exam. You don’t need school anymore. I’m taking care of everything.”

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar frustration bubbling up inside you. “But I’ve worked so hard for this. I need to graduate, Jungkook. I can’t just... quit. You said you’d think about it.”

He let out a long breath, standing up and walking around his desk to where you sat. His eyes softened, but it didn’t comfort you. Instead, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Princess,” he said gently, reaching out to cup your cheek, “I understand that this is important to you. But you don’t need that degree. You have me. I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to go back to that life.”

You pulled away slightly, shaking your head. “That’s not the point. I want to finish this. It’s something I’ve worked for.”

His gaze hardened, just a fraction, but enough for you to notice. “You need to stop thinking about what you want,” he said, his voice firm. “This is what’s best for you. Trust me.”

Your chest tightened as you looked at him, your frustration turning into something sharper, something closer to anger. You had done everything he asked. You had been patient, played the role of the compliant partner, all for this one moment of freedom. And now, he was taking that away too.

“I’ve been patient,” you said, your voice shaking with barely-contained frustration. “I’ve done everything you wanted. But you promised. You said you’d think about it.”

Jungkook’s expression remained unbothered, as though your words had no effect on him. “I did think about it,” he said, his voice cold. “And I’ve decided. You’re not going back to school. You’re staying here, where you belong.” He turned his back to you, walking back to his desk.

That was it. That was the moment everything broke.

Before you even had time to process the fury building inside you, your eyes locked onto the vase on the table next to the armchair. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but your body moved before you could think. In one swift motion, you grabbed the vase, the weight of it grounding you for just a split second before you swung it at him.

The vase hit him on the side of the head with a sickening crack.

Jungkook collapsed to the floor with a groan, his hand flying to his head as he struggled to process what had just happened. Blood seeped through his fingers, and his eyes flickered with shock as he looked up at you.

“Princess…” he rasped, his voice hoarse with confusion and disbelief. “What... what did you-”

You ran.

You bolted for the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted down the hallway, your mind a whirlwind of panic and adrenaline. The front door to the penthouse was open, a careless mistake on his part, a sliver of luck for you. You didn’t care about anything else anymore. You didn’t care about his control, or even the fear of what he would do if he caught you.

All you wanted was out. Out of this suffocating place, out of this twisted prison he had built around you.

Out of him.

You bolted for the door, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. The vase clattered to the floor behind you as you sprinted toward the elevator, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You didn’t think, there was no time for thinking. You just knew you had to get out.

The hallway blurred as you ran, adrenaline surging through your veins. The elevator doors were open, another moment of luck in a twisted series of events. You threw yourself inside, slamming your hand against the button to close the doors as fast as possible.

The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet hum, sealing you inside. Your hands trembled as you pressed the button for the lobby, willing the elevator to move faster. You had no idea how long it would take for Jungkook to recover, but you knew it wouldn’t be long before he came after you.

As the elevator descended, your chest tightened, each floor feeling like an eternity. You pressed yourself into the corner of the elevator, your whole body shaking as you tried to catch your breath. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing over you like a wave.

You hit him.

You hit Jungkook.

But you didn’t regret it. You couldn’t regret it. Not after everything he had done, keeping you trapped, controlling every part of your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears sting at the edges, but you fought them back. You didn’t have time to break down now. The elevator dinged softly as it reached the lobby, and you wiped your eyes quickly, forcing yourself to focus. The doors slid open, revealing the bright lights of the ground floor.

Freedom.

You stepped out, your legs weak beneath you, but you forced yourself to keep moving. People were walking past you in the lobby, completely unaware of the storm you had just escaped from upstairs.

You had no plan, no phone, no money. Still, all that mattered was that you were out. Away from him.

And you weren’t going back.

You burst through the doors of the lobby and into the night, your legs carrying you without direction, just away. Away from Jungkook, away from the suffocating control, away from the penthouse that had been your prison for far too long. You ran blindly through the city streets, heart racing, breath shallow, your feet slamming against the pavement with each desperate step. The cool night air whipped against your face, but it did little to clear the panic clouding your mind.

You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t ask for help. Who would believe you? He was Jeon fucking Jungkook, one of the richest, one of the most powerful men. If you went to the authorities, they’d likely send you straight back to him. Money bought silence, it bought control, and you knew better than anyone just how tightly he held that control.

You needed to disappear. To vanish completely until he couldn’t find you, until he finally gave up. But how??

The thought of going back, of being caught, terrified you more than anything. You needed help. You needed money. That’s when you remembered the necklace hanging around your neck, the one Jungkook had given you. It was expensive, something rare and exclusive, probably worth a fortune. Maybe you could sell it, use the cash to disappear for a little while.

But first, you needed a place to stay. Somewhere safe, at least for the night. Your parents lived too far away. You couldn’t risk reaching out to them, not yet. The only person you could think of was Bora. Sweet, dependable Bora. She had always been there for you, and maybe, just maybe she’d still help you now.

But could you risk getting her involved? If Jungkook found out she helped you, she could get caught in the crossfire. The thought gnawed at you, but you didn’t have many options. Bora worked at the strip club, usually at this time of night. Maybe you could swing by, ask for some quick cash, and move on before Jungkook even had a chance to realize where you’d gone.

You stopped in your tracks, panting, your lungs burning from the nonstop sprint through the city. You bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. “Breathe”, you told yourself. “Just breathe”.

As you straightened up, your eyes caught something pinned to a streetlight nearby. An old, wrinkled poster. Something familiar.

You took a step closer, squinting under the dim streetlight. The faded ink became clearer. It was a missing person report. Your missing person report. Your own face stared back at you, a photo from what felt like a lifetime ago.

Beneath your name, someone had scribbled something in jagged handwriting.

Rest in peace Angel.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Cold realization washed over you. I’m dead. Jungkook made sure of it.

The world tilted for a moment as the weight of what he had done finally hit you. Everyone thought you were gone, your family, your friends, anyone who might’ve come looking for you. They had already mourned you, accepted your death. No one was looking for you anymore. As far as the world was concerned, you didn’t exist.

He had erased you.

You staggered back, the noise of the city fading as you stared at the poster, at the brutal, final words scribbled beneath your name. Jungkook had planned this all along, trapping you in his world, and now, even if you ran, you had no identity to run with.

But you had to run. And you had to survive. You had to find Bora, get enough money to keep moving. The thought of stopping, of letting him catch up to you, was unbearable.

You glanced around, panic rising again, your heart pounding louder than ever. The clock was ticking. You had to go.

You slowed down, heart still racing, trying to steady your breath as you kept moving toward the back of the club. The line stretched on, men jostling for position, but you weren’t going through the front. The bouncers, tall, muscular figures with sunglasses even at night, stood like sentinels at the door, arms crossed, keeping watch over the chaos.

God, you hated this place. The memories here were bitter, nights spent working, enduring the leering stares, the unwanted touches, the crude jokes. But now, this was the only place you could turn to. The only person you had left was inside.

You slipped down the alley, the familiar route you used to take when you worked here. The scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol clung to the air, a sharp contrast to the cool breeze brushing against your flushed skin.

You kept your head down, weaving through the crowd toward the back of the building. There was a secret door in the back, hidden from the public, where the staff would slip in and out during shifts. You didn’t have your key anymore, of course, but you remembered the routine. Girls always came out for smoke breaks here.

Your breath hitched as you reached for the door handle, hoping to slip in quietly, unnoticed. But before you could even touch it, the door swung open.

You stumbled back, heart leaping into your throat.

“Oh my god,” a voice muttered, and your eyes shot up to see one of the dancers, Sana, one of the regulars, blinking at you in surprise. She was dressed in her stage outfit, cigarette in hand, her eyes wide as she took you in.

“What the hell...?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “Wait... is that-is that really you?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the doorway just enough to slip inside, keeping your face hidden as much as you could.

“Sana, I-I need to see Bora,” you whispered, your voice shaky and desperate. “Is she here tonight?”

Sana stared at you, her expression caught between disbelief and alarm. "Wait, wait, hold on-what's going on? You-you're supposed to be-"

“I know,” you cut her off, your voice urgent. “I can’t explain right now. Just... please. I need to see her.”

Sana hesitated for a moment, clearly confused, but then nodded slowly. “She’s inside, on stage. She should be finishing up soon.”

Relief surged through you, though it was mixed with the familiar dread of being in this place again. “Thank you,” you muttered before slipping past her and into the dimly lit hallway.

The familiar thrum of music filled your ears as you made your way down the narrow corridor, past the lockers and dressing rooms. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, perfume, and alcohol, and you could hear the muffled cheers of the crowd beyond the main stage.

You hovered near the dressing rooms, hiding in the shadows, waiting for Bora’s set to finish. Your heart raced with every second that passed, the fear that Jungkook might somehow track you here gnawing at you. You had no idea how much time you had before he realized you were gone, before he started searching.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally saw Bora walking off the stage, her usual confidence dimmed by exhaustion. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced around, heading toward the dressing room. You stepped out from the shadows, your hands trembling.

"Bora."

Her head whipped around at the sound of your voice, her eyes widening as they landed on you. She froze, her face going pale. "Angel... You're-"

"I'm alive," you whispered, stepping closer. "But I need your help. Please, Bora, I don't have much time."

Her eyes darted around the room, panic flashing across her face as she processed the situation. She grabbed your arm, pulling you into the dressing room and slamming the door behind you. "What the hell happened to you? We all thought... we thought you were gone! A body, they found a body-everyone thinks you're dead!"

"I know," you whispered, your voice cracking. "It was Jungkook. He made it look like I was dead. I-I just escaped from him."

Bora's expression shifted from shock to anger. "That bastard. I knew something was off with him. But why come here? If he knows you're here, he's going to come after you. This place isn't safe!"

"I know, but I had nowhere else to go. I need money. I need to disappear, Bora."

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly torn between fear and the instinct to help you. Finally, she nodded, grabbing her purse from the counter. "Okay, okay... I’ll give you whatever cash I have on me. But you can’t stay here. He’ll find you."

You exhaled a shaky breath as she handed you a wad of bills. "Thank you. I won't stay long. I just need a head start."

Bora's eyes softened with concern as she stuffed more money into your hand. "You need to get far away from here. As far as you can."

You nodded, your hands trembling as you stuffed the cash into your pockets. "I will."

But even as you said the words, the lingering fear gnawed at you. How far could you really run from someone like Jungkook?

Bora’s eyes softened as she looked at you, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you. Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that made your chest tighten with emotion.

“Please be safe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the muffled music from the club.

You held on to her for a moment longer, your own arms squeezing her back. It had been so long since anyone had hugged you like that—since anyone had shown you kindness without control attached to it. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing you didn’t have time to break down. Not here. Not now.

“I’ll try,” you whispered back, your voice shaky. “Thank you, Bora. For everything.”

She pulled back, her hands lingering on your arms for a second before she let you go. “Don’t come back here. Don’t let him find you,” she said, her voice fierce but laced with worry. “Disappear. For good.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I will.”

Before you could make your way toward the door, Bora grabbed your arm again, her eyes scanning you up and down. “Wait,” she said firmly. “You can’t go out there like this. He’ll recognize you immediately. Everyone will.”

You looked down at yourself, your clothes, they were from a life Jungkook had tailored for you, a life that you needed to shed to blend in, to disappear.

Bora was already moving, digging through her locker and pulling out a simple, dark outfit, one she usually wears going to work and back. “Here,” she said, shoving the clothes into your arms. “Change into this. It'll make it harder for anyone to spot you. Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Without another word, you quickly pulled off your old clothes and slipped into Bora’s outfit. A dark pair of jeans, with a loose black hoodie and a warm black warm coat. It smelled a lot of perfume. You tied your hair back, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

Bora handed you a cap, adding the finishing touch. “There.” she said, a small, sad smile on her lips.

You gave her a grateful look, feeling your throat tighten. “Thank you,” you whispered again.

Bora pulled you in for another quick, tight hug. “Get out of here, okay? And don’t come back,” she repeated, her voice low and urgent. “He won’t stop if he finds out.”

You nodded, heart pounding as you finished dressing. “I won’t. I promise.”

With that, you headed toward the back exit.

You had to keep moving. You couldn’t afford to stop.

You pulled the hoodie tightly over your cap, tucking your hair beneath the fabric as you prepared to leave. Your mind raced with one thought: you needed to find a motel. Just for the night, somewhere to lie low until you could sell the necklace.

Pushing open the back door, you stepped into the cool night air, but before you could take another step, a hand grabbed your arm roughly, slamming you against the brick wall of the alley.

"Where are you off to?" a low voice growled, eyes narrowing at you.

"You're not Bora."

You froze, the shock rendering you speechless. The world blurred around you as you stared at the man who had pinned you. Panic surged through your veins until recognition hit you like a punch to the gut.

Jeong Jaehyun.

One of Jungkook’s closest friends.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you kept your head down, desperately trying to hide your face. "No... I’m not," you mumbled quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m her friend. I wasn’t feeling well, so I was sent home."

Jaehyun’s eyes raked over you, suspicion flickering across his features. "You look familiar," he said slowly, his grip tightening for a brief moment.

Your stomach lurched, but you forced a tight smile. "Yeah, well... I work here. Probably seen me around. I really have to go now," you said, your voice barely masking the fear.

You slipped away from his grip, pulling the hoodie tighter around your face, praying he wouldn’t connect the dots.

"Wait-"

Before he could stop you, another voice called out from behind him.

"Jaehyun! Where the hell are you, man? What are you doing back here?"

A distraction.

Without wasting another second, you pushed the door open wide and bolted, your feet slamming against the pavement as you ran down the alley. You could hear Jaehyun calling out behind you, but you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t catch a break. Every time you thought you were one step ahead, something or someone dragged you right back into it.

__________

Jungkook blinked, his vision swimming as the sharp pain in his head brought him back to the present. His fingers grazed the spot where the vase had hit him, and the warm trickle of blood running down his temple stung, but it wasn’t the pain that consumed him, it was the realization.

She hit me.

His princess, the one he had carefully protected, sheltered, loved, had just hit him and ran. The one he thought had finally understood their connection, their bond. She had betrayed him, and now she was gone.

He staggered to his feet, his breath coming in sharp bursts. The penthouse felt unnervingly quiet, the door slightly ajar, the echoes of her departure lingering like a slap to his face.

She ran.

The thought sent a fresh wave of fury through him. After everything he’d done for her, how he had protected her, made her feel safe, cared for her in ways no one else ever could, and she had the nerve to run?

His fist slammed against the wall, the plaster cracking under the pressure. His vision blurred, clouded by the dark haze of his anger. She thought she could escape him? That she could leave him after everything?

No.

She was his. She belonged to him, and she would always belong to him.

Jungkook stood still for a moment, letting the anger settle into something colder, more focused. He wiped the blood from his knuckles, smearing it across his fingertips before casually brushing it away. His mind was already racing through the next steps.

No matter how much he loved her, no matter how well he treated her, the thought of escape might flicker in her mind. But he had prepared for that. He wasn’t that naive. He wasn’t stupid.

In fact, he had been two steps ahead of her the entire time.

Jungkook reached into his desk drawer, his fingers brushing past papers and folders until he found what he was looking for- a small black device, barely larger than a key fob. He turned it over in his hand, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he thumbed the button on its side.

The tracker.

Weeks ago, when he’d first brought her into his world, he had planted a small tracking chip under her skin. A simple procedure. Harmless, unnoticed. She had no idea, of course. It was for her safety, for their safety. He couldn’t risk losing her.

The tiny chip, embedded beneath her skin in a place she would never think to check, allowed him to always know where she was. It was a precaution, one he had hoped he’d never need to use. But now? Now it was time to activate it.

Jungkook pressed the button on the device, watching as the screen lit up, a small blinking dot appearing on the map. He watched the blinking dot on the tracker screen, his expression calm, almost serene. She was running, heart pounding, mind probably racing with thoughts of escape. She thought she had outsmarted him, thought she had finally broken free.

Let her think that.

His fingers lightly traced over the small red dot on the screen, his smile widening. He could go after her now, catch her within the hour. But where was the fun in that? Where was the lesson? No, she needed to feel the weight of her decision, the consequences of trying to leave him. She needed to believe that freedom was within her reach, only to have it yanked away when he decided the time was right.

This wasn’t just about finding her. It was about showing her that she had never truly escaped. That she could run, hide, try to slip away into the cracks of the city, but he would always know where she was. Because she was his, and nothing could change that.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing on the blinking dot that represented her. He’d give her time, just enough to think she’d won. Let her scramble, desperate and afraid. Let her believe that she was outsmarting him, that she had carved out a sliver of freedom.

But in reality, she was playing a game where the rules had already been set, and he held all the pieces.

He could wait. After all, the longer she thought she was free, the sweeter it would be when he finally pulled her back into his world.

Let her run. Let her think she had won.

But when he decided it was time—he’d make sure she knew that freedom had never really been hers to take.

Jungkook wiped the blood from his temple, his head still throbbing from the blow, but his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.

“Run all you want, Princess,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk as he steadied himself.

“I’ll always find you.”

#bts fanfic #white pearl #jungkook yandere fanfiction #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fanfction #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #silver pearl #pearl series

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joshujin · 2 months ago

Text

‘til god breaks this spell

joshua's devotion to you rivals his devotion to his god.

♫ spell by niki pairing: joshua x fem!reader word count: 4.6k cw: a lot of religious reflection (catholicism) tags: childhood best friends, angst, not the happy ending you probably want sorry, the one that got away, joshua is a good catholic boy, reader is atheist a/n: the very first fic i wrote was a bts jinkook fic that was inspired by la la lost you by niki. seems fitting that i start my svt writing journey with another niki inspired song hehe. other than that, idk what compelled me to torture myself (and now you) like this. also, this was written in one, flustered go so it's barely edited oops!

“mom, what would you do if i married someone who didn’t believe in god?”

joshua’s mother immediately set her novel down, glasses slipping down her nose as she frowned at her one and only son. he didn’t look up at her, choosing to stare down at his hands instead while he twirled the friendship ring he shared with you around his pinkie finger.

“married?” she repeated. “i wasn’t even aware you had someone in your life.”

he shook his head quickly, frowning down at his open palm as he began to massage it nervously. “i don’t. i’m just… curious, i guess.”

it might be silly to be as worried about this as he is, seeing as things haven’t progressed into a relationship yet, but he’d rather figure this out now and say nothing than risk it, go all in, and then cause unnecessary pain later on.

his mother stays silent long enough that he forces himself to look at her. her eyes are no longer on him, instead seemingly zoning out on the space straight ahead. he follows her gaze and grimaces when he realizes she’s staring at the wooden carving of the last supper hung on the wall.

“i wouldn’t do anything,” she begins carefully. “you’re a grown man, after all. but i would worry that marrying a partner who didn’t believe in god—any god at all—would make you stray from your own faith.”

it’s a diplomatic answer and he expected it; his mom has always been supportive of him, always allowing him the space and freedom to make his own mistakes and learn from them—or not.

“so you’d prefer i marry catholic?”

“i mean, of course, but that’s not what i said, was it?” his mom retorts, giving him a pointed look. she knew joshua had a way of misunderstanding a lot of the things she told him. “i would prefer you marry catholic the way i would prefer you marry at all—nice to have but if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world.”

joshua nods, feeling a little bit of the tightness in his chest dissipate.

“i would just hope you think about it long and hard enough to know that you won’t compromise any of your own beliefs for someone who lives without a god,” she emphasizes.

joshua mulls that idea over. is his faith strong enough to withstand a lifelong partner who didn’t share his belief and love for god?

he wants to say yes. it’s you—of course he wants to say yes. you’ve been friends your whole lives, and he’s been in love with you for most of that time. of course he wants his answer to be: yes, my faith will survive a relationship with an atheist.

but he thinks about the conversations you’ve already had years ago, and the tightness in his chest returns tenfold.

is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?

probably not. it just seems too convenient that there’s someone out there in charge of everyone’s lives.

would you marry someone religious?

i don’t know. i guess it depends on the person. i don’t think i’d participate or convert or anything if i did, though.

what about kids? would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?

dude, what’s with the interrogation? i don’t know! if it’s important to my partner, maybe? but i’d be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves. can we watch a movie now?

and each time you answered his question, instead of accepting that maybe there was a major incompatibility between the two of you, joshua would find himself thinking of the things he could compromise on.

okay, sure, he doesn’t need you to convert or participate; he’s already been going to church his entire adult life so far without anyone accompanying him. and if you didn’t want children baptized, that’s fine too! adults go through catholic confirmation later in life all the time! so what if you thought that the idea of a “big guy” controlling everyone’s lives was weird? he could just refrain from talking about that around you… or correcting your line of thinking because it’s a bit of a gross oversimplification of catholicism.

and as he sits there, his mother already back to her novel, he realizes his faith isn’t strong enough to survive you. because his love for you has become somewhat of its own religion to him, and if it came down to a question of his faith to you or his faith to god, he has to be honest with himself and admit that his mother’s fears are valid. he would put it all on the line if it meant being with you.

and he can’t do that.

he’s committed all kinds of sins by now. he’s been flexible in his beliefs—supportive and progressive in areas where other catholics have been unforgiving and in his opinion, outdated and bigoted. he’s compromised a lot at no cost to him or his god. but he can’t completely lose everything he’s known and loved for you. he can’t lose himself to you.

he can't forget that it isn't fair to you either—to have to try and appease him and his religion. he'd be doing you both a mercy, letting this spark die before it ever really takes flame.

joshua leaves his mother’s house knowing one thing is for sure: it’s time to let this dream of having you go.

the end is short and uneventful.

you two had only kissed once, and things hadn’t gone far enough for either of you to confess your feelings—whatever they were. so when joshua told you he thought it was better to stay best friends, you took it like a champ and agreed, smiling and hugging him tightly, promising him that nothing would change.

the end was short and uneventful, yet somehow the most devastating thing joshua has experienced. he had you. you were right there. he had a whole life with you in his palm, and he let it go.

he hates himself for it, but he saw it all. the moment his lips met yours, he saw hands intertwined together, late nights, car rides with his hand on your thigh, hugs from behind while he cooked for you, a suit and a white dress, a small, innocent face that looked like the both of you—your smile, his eyes.

and he feels like maybe you saw it too.

because when you both pulled away, you looked up at him like this was it—like you had just run a marathon and you had reached the finish line. like you’d grabbed his hand and crossed it with him. you smiled widely, wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, and caressed the skin there as your foreheads met. and you fell asleep wrapped up in each other like it was where you were both meant to be.

maybe you saw it too. and now he’s the reason it’ll stay a dream.

you stay true to your promise. joshua is almost saddened by how easy it seems for you to revert back to being only friends. every time he sees you, hears you, brushes up against you, he feels like his heart is cracking wide open and the world might just end at that very moment. it’s dramatic but he can’t wrap his mind around any other way to exist.

it hurts for a while, but the years pass a little easier.

he watches you date, and even though he’s secretly and unfairly relieved every time you throw someone else to the curb, he takes it well. he meets some of them and welcomes them warmly, agreeing to hang out with you and whoever you’re dating any time you ask him to. he even thinks one or two of them could give you a good life; he can live thinking of you with these ones forever. but you inevitably leave them behind and he hates that it makes him happy to watch you shake off a good guy that isn’t him.

just as he planned, joshua’s faith remains strong. he goes to church. he volunteers with his mom and her bible study friends. he sings and plays guitar on the praise and worship team from time to time. he meets a a catholic woman he thinks could be a match for him. he never asks her out. he politely declines when she musters up the courage to do it herself.

he thinks this could be fine. maybe he’ll be single forever and maybe you’ll find some average guy he can stomach, and his love for his god and for your happiness will keep him warm enough at night.

but then, you meet kwon soonyoung.

you’ve never been one to fall and tell; most of the time, joshua doesn’t know you’re dating someone until you decide it’s time to get his stamp of approval. he knows soonyoung is different from the jump.

your time starts to get tied up. it starts with only seeing him sporadically throughout the month instead of almost every day. it becomes rescheduling all your hangouts until you’re only seeing each other briefly at mutual friends’ events. it ends with missed calls and ignored texts.

he’s driving himself crazy wondering what’s going on, and when you post a photo on your story of a dinner date with a faceless man, he understands what’s happening. you’re falling in love. and he knows it because you never have—not truly—and this is what it must look like.

you don’t fall and tell, but joshua knows you too well to pretend it’s anything but this. he doesn’t try to take up any more of your time out of respect, and you don’t reach out.

you prove him right when a few months later, you bring soonyoung to a friend’s dinner party, and you introduce him as your boyfriend. it hits joshua like a truck. you’ve never introduced someone to him as a boyfriend. he’s always met the people you’ve dated before it progressed that far. he also had the privilege of meeting them privately, not with the rest of the friend group, none of who are privy to the way his heart collapses in on itself when he watches the way you lean into soonyoung all night. the way you laugh with him. the way his eyes disappear from how fondly he smiles at you. the way he seems to fit right into your life so perfectly.

you hug joshua tightly that night before leaving, and you tell him you miss him so much and you two need to catch up soon. neither of you follow up, though, and a year later, you’re engaged.

the week before joshua is due at your wedding as a guest—not your “man-of-honor” the way you’ve always planned your entire life—he gets completely shit-faced drunk.

he’s sitting on the sidewalk in front of a puddle of his own vomit when you quietly sit beside him, slipping your arm around his shoulders. he doesn’t know why you’re there. he doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating. he smiles anyway.

“hey, you.”

“hey, shua,” you whisper, smiling at him sadly. “what are you doing?”

“oh, y’know,” he shrugs, grinning at himself pathetically. “just hanging out.”

you hum, nodding.

“what are you doing here?” he asks.

you look at him with an inscrutable expression. “i just wanted to see you,” you answer. “i wanted to see my best friend.”

“am i?” he asks, looking up at the sky. the moon is covered by clouds tonight. “your best friend?”

“of course. you always will be.”

he smiles at the thought. he’s too drunk to realize there’s no possible way that’s true, not since soonyoung came into your life. he’s too drunk to remember there’s no room in your life for another man who’s just as hopelessly in love with you as your fiance is.

“say, do you believe in god yet?” he asks suddenly.

you raise an eyebrow at the suddenness of the question. “um, i haven’t thought about it lately.”

he nods. “okay.”

“joshua, what are you doing here?” you ask again. “what are you really doing here?”

he doesn’t remember what he tells you. what he does remember is waking up in the room he grew up in instead of his apartment, with his mother at the foot of his childhood bed, tears welling in her eyes.

“was it y/n?” she asks.

he frowns. “what?”

“when you asked what i would do if you married someone who didn’t believe in god all those years ago,” she explains, sniffling a little as she does. “were you talking about y/n?”

he doesn’t answer.

the events of the previous night catch up to him, and he remembers where he is—where his life is. he’s a handful of days from watching you marry someone else. he’s a handful of days from losing the one person he’s ever fallen in love with to someone else.

and all joshua has to show for it is his goddamn faith, and suddenly, for the first time since he asked his mother that question, he’s not sure it was worth it. because either way, he knows he’ll be devoted to you until the day he dies; he might as well have had you by his side all this time.

he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. when he fails, he can’t help the sobs that begin to rack his body.

he buries the heel of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

“she’s marrying him,” he groans through his sobs. “she’s marrying him, mom.”

“oh, joshua. i know.” he feels his mom’s hand squeeze his leg. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry.”

“i can’t do this. i can’t do it,” he wheezes, feeling like his lungs are collapsing under the weight of his ribs. “why did i do this? i can’t do this.”

she doesn’t try to convince him he can do this. she doesn’t try to argue that he didn’t do anything wrong. she doesn’t tell him to calm down. she collects him in her arms and she holds him, comforting him the way only a mother knows how to.

when he starts to calm down, she kisses the crown of his head.

“the pain you must’ve endured all this time. i’m so sorry, joshua. if i had known who you were talking about, i would’ve said something entirely different.”

he untangles himself from her embrace to look at his mother. “what do you mean?”

she wipes at her own tear-stained cheeks before cupping her son’s face. “oh, sweetheart. it’s y/n. you grew up with her. i know her like i would my own daughter.”

his mother shakes her head and joshua feels like he sees all his regret mirrored in her face. she pulls him to sit against the wall his bed is pushed up against, joining him as they both stare out the opposite window.

“there are some people who lead godly lives without even knowing it,” she informs him. “you say she doesn’t believe in god, but i don’t believe you.” his stomach lurches. “that girl has lived as godly a life as you and i have. she doesn’t need to be catholic to do that, baby. you know her. there isn’t a single universe where that girl would’ve led you away from your faith.”

joshua stammers now. “but… i…”

“all the sundays she tagged along for mass with us because she just wanted to be with her best friend when she could’ve been out on the playgrounds,” his mother begins listing. “she always respectfully bowed her head when we prayed before meals even though we both knew she wasn’t praying.”

his head is reeling now. is it possible he rewrote his own memories? could he have created his own narrative of what life with you would look like?

“remember when you were both 14 and she learned what lent was? she tried giving up soda and ended up crying, begging me for forgiveness when she forgot and accidentally had coke with her school lunch.”

his mother’s shoulders shake with nostalgic laughter.

“you would’ve thought i was god the way that girl wailed,” she reminisces. she sighs in the silence that follows. “joshua, my son. some people… they show you they love god in a way different than we do, and it’s my fault i never properly taught you that.”

he turns his head to look at her but her gaze remains trained on the window. he sees now that it’s not his regret she mirrors but her own.

“i think i was too preoccupied with ensuring i raised you to be a good, catholic man—too preoccupied with making sure you didn’t become anything like your father.”

he breathes in deeply and returns his focus to the window.

“but i should’ve made it clear. i should’ve shown you that god exists in all the little acts of love we give and receive. i should’ve shown you that organized religion isn’t the only marker of faith.” she pauses, taking a shaky breath. “maybe then you would’ve recognized y/n as a woman of god. maybe then you wouldn’t be so hurt now.”

the words are enough to make joshua even more nauseous than his hangover is already making him.

“y/n… she shows godliness in the way she respects you and your beliefs. she shows it in the way she supports and loves you through every season of your life. it’s unfair to say she isn’t good enough for you because her faith lies in a different place.”

“i never thought she wasn’t good enough for me,” he interjects quickly. his mom doesn’t argue that, simply nodding. “she’s perfect. i just… i thought we were incompatible.”

“and maybe you are,” she agrees.

she doesn’t need to say it out loud; they both know what comes next. but now you’ll never know.

“i just wanted to apologize,” his mom tells him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “i feel like i’ve failed you.”

“you haven’t, mom,” he says quietly. “i failed me.”

“we’ll agree to disagree,” she announces, making him smile a little. “but i’m sorry anyway. there are a lot of things i’d change now if i could.”

he feels the familiar tightness in his chest. it’s his companion at this point, the heartbreak. “me too, mom. me too.”

joshua played with your hair from where he was laying on your couch. you were sitting criss-cross in front of him on the floor, clicking through netflix and trying to find a movie you both wanted to watch.

"is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?" he suddenly asked you. you frowned at the abrupt question, setting the remote down on the floor.

"that's random."

"just curious," he murmured softly, like he was so relaxed he was about to fall asleep.

"hmm," you hummed in thought, resting your head back so you could stare at the ceiling. he adjusted your hair so it fell over his lap. "like what, some kind of miracle that can only be explained by god?"

he shrugged. "sure. whatever."

"probably not..." you answered with hesitation. "i can't really think of a kind of miracle that would have me questioning god, though."

"like, if someone you loved were given a terminal diagnosis—three months to live. and suddenly, their illness clears up with no explanation. even doctors are astounded. what would you think?"

you shrugged. "i would be too happy they're not dying to question how it happened." he blew out a breath of exasperation. "okay, okay," you laughed, trying to figure out a more definite answer for him. "no, i don't think there's anything that could happen. it just seems too convenient that there's someone out there in charge of everyone's lives."

he nodded along but said nothing. you fidgeted in the silence. the quiet wasn't something the two of you ever shied from; it was always comfortable with joshua. for some reason, you felt awkward. so you kept talking to fill the silence.

"i think i could be open to believing something, though," you admitted honestly. "i just don't want to get to a place where i would blame this... thing or person for the things going wrong in my life. but that's just me. i still love that people believe so strongly in it. faith is a beautiful thing."

joshua taught you that. faith withstood a lot of things, and your best friend was the prime example. nothing was quite as beautiful as his love for his religion, his god, his spirituality. even if it scared you sometimes—even if it unintentionally made you feel too small to be someone lucky enough to have joshua's heart—you knew it was still precious.

"would you marry someone religious?"

you snorted. "where are these questions coming from?"

"indulge me."

you sighed, closing your eyes and enjoying the way his fingers carded through your hair. "that's so hard to answer without knowing who it is. it depends on the person. i can't make a decision based solely on how religious they are."

"okay, i guess that's fair." he paused. "would you ever convert for someone?"

"i don't think so?" you said, hating how unsure you sounded answering all of these questions. "but who knows? i really can't say for sure without knowing who it is, shua. how about you? would you marry someone who wasn't religious?"

your heart pounded at the silence that followed.

"it depends on the person," he finally said with a playful tone.

you rolled your eyes. "exactly."

"alright, what about kids?"

"shua, why are you interrogating me right now?"

he snickered. "i'm having a conversation with my best friend. is that not allowed?"

you lifted your head and turned to glare at him, your hair slipping between his fingers. he dropped his hand now that he had nothing to play with. he raised his eyebrows at you slightly.

"of course it's allowed," you scoffed. "it's just... so out of nowhere."

"well?" he prodded, ignoring your comments.

"okay, what about kids?" you relented.

"would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?"

you laughed. "so much religion talk tonight."

he didn't dignify that with a response.

you groaned, again having no idea. if you took all these questions and made them about joshua, they would be a million times easier to answer. but he wasn't asking about himself, he was asking about some faceless, nameless nobody, and you weren't invested enough to answer accurately.

"i don't know... if it's important to my partner, then of course i would consider it," you finally said. "but i guess i'd be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves."

"that's wise," he remarked.

"mhm, sure" you hummed. "can we watch a movie now? i'll even let you choose an anime if you stop asking questions that make me sweaty."

he smirked and nodded. "okay, come up here, though."

you joined him on the couch and you spent the rest of the night binging anime episodes. you wouldn't be able to say what you watched, though, because the entire time, your mind was stuck on what the answers would've been if they were about joshua.

the end is long and beautiful.

you marry kwon soonyoung in front of all your loved ones, and you do it knowing full well this man will give you the happiest life. you spend the night eating the food you both painstakingly chose together, dancing to songs recommended by your guests on their RSVPs, and laughing so hard, tears stream down both of your faces.

and when you sidle up to your best friend as he leans on the bar, waiting for his drink, he has the strength to look happy for you. you’re sure he isn’t. at least not quite all the way.

“i’m happy you’re happy, y/n.”

you smile. “thank you, shua.” you pause, tilting your head a little in thought. you add: “for everything.”

“what’s everything?” he asks, smiling in confusion.

“for everything... for being my best friend all this time. loving me like you did. letting me love you," you list, ignoring the way his eyes widen at you. "most of all, i guess i just want to thank you for everything you gave up so we could be here,” you finish before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. you pull away, cupping his face, and smiling. “i’ll never forget it. thank you.”

you’re swept back onto the dance floor by your bridesmaids. it was a short exchange, but you know it was enough.

you’re not dumb. you knew what joshua had to give up so you could be here, happy, in love, and with the man perfect for you.

everything. he had to give up everything. he chose his devotion to god over his devotion to you, and you never faulted him for that because you knew it was a decision that would destroy him, and maybe it did at one point, having to bury his love as deep as he did.

you didn’t believe heaven was real, and still, he chose to love you until it hurt like hell and you knew it. there might have been a younger version of you that was heartbroken he couldn’t possibly imagine a life with you where you were capable of supporting his beliefs wholeheartedly regardless of yours. because you would have. you would have done everything in your power to make him feel loved while keeping his door to his god wide open.

there might have been a younger version of you that would’ve hated him for this.

but tonight, as you slow dance with your husband, feeling the safest you’ve felt in your entire life, all you can do is thank joshua hong for all the choices he made without asking you first.

ironically, because of him, you can see god now. you can see god in the way soonyoung holds you like you’re the most precious person in his life. you can see god in his patience and care. in his kindness. in his dedication to making you smile and laugh.

you’ve never seen god in a clearer light.

you think back to your last, honest night with joshua, on that deserted street, when he drunkenly called you.

“what are you really doing here?”

“i’m mourning,” he answered. “i’m mourning the life we could’ve had.” he frowned as tears began to fall down your face. “don’t cry. i don’t want to make you sad. i’m okay, i promise. i’ll be okay. i’m just letting you go now... for real this time.” he hiccuped. "for real, for real."

“you didn’t have to, you know,” you whispered.

“i think i did.”

you got him to his mother’s home that night, not wanting him to wake up alone with the weight of his sadness. you didn’t exchange many words, but you knew she knew. she hugged you, told you she was happy for you and soonyoung, and she looked at you for several, long seconds. you felt like she could see right through you because she probably could—she always did.

“you’ll always have him.”

“and he’ll always have me.”

“i know.”

the end is long and beautiful, and it’s simultaneously the best and the most devastating night of your life.

but your lives go on, and you and joshua both find what keeps you warm at night, and you hold onto it for as long as you can.

and you’re okay with that. you hope he is too.

#joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua x you #joshua hong #joshua hong fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x you #svt x you #seventeen fic #{ 📝 } → joshujin fic

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1343401 · 2 months ago

Text

captive desires - chapter three

pairing: hybrid bts x reader

status: ongoing

word count: 12.9 k

warnings: depictions of violence, death, family trauma, mentions of blood, yandere-ish, hybrids, animal abuse, implied murder, raw meat, animal attacks

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"is someone there?"

the voice comes again, soft, careful.

"who’s there?"

myah freezes.

her grip tightens around her phone, her breath locked in her throat.

it’s a man’s voice. low, smooth, too human.

too normal.

she expected something else. something that fit the unease coiling in her gut. a growl. a snarl. something scratching at the door, desperate to claw its way free.

but this?

this is something worse.

because there’s no panic. no aggression. just quiet, measured patience.

like whoever is on the other side already knows she’s standing there.

"please..."

a second voice now, softer, hesitant.

"please don’t hurt us."

chae-eun tenses beside her, fingers twitching like she wants to grab myah and drag her away.

"we don’t want trouble."

the way they speak, it’s too careful. too controlled.

too intentional.

the words aren't rushed or desperate, not the kind of thing said in a frantic bid for freedom. they're spoken like a warning. or maybe a test.

“myah,” chae-eun hisses, voice tight with warning.

but myah isn’t listening.

because something is wrong.

if they were dangerous, if they were monsters, why would they be pleading?

why would they sound like this, like they expected her hesitation?

she swallows hard, her mind racing.

"we need to go," chae-eun presses, barely above a whisper. her eyes flick toward the door like she expects it to burst open at any second. “now.”

myah shakes her head, her heart pounding. "no, chae-eun, think about it. they’re locked in.”

“for a reason.” chae-eun glares at her. "you don’t know what’s in there."

“exactly.” myah’s voice is sharp, more sure now. “i don’t know. and neither do you.”

“i know enough,” chae-eun snaps. “we found logs, myah. they were keeping something down here, documenting it like science experiments. you saw what they wrote.”

"which is why we can’t just walk away!" myah argues, her pulse hammering against her ribs. "they need help."

“exactly,” chae-eun bites out, frustration tightening her features. "which is why we need to call the Hybrid Protection Unit, not send in two twenty-year-old girls with no plan and no backup!”

"please..."

the voice is softer this time, more fragile, curling into the silence between them like a plea.

it doesn’t sound like something dangerous.

it doesn’t sound like a monster.

because what if they aren’t monsters?

what if they’re victims?

her grandparents had done terrible things. things she didn’t even know about until now.

what if this is just another part of their twisted legacy?

what if they locked them up, experimented on them, kept them in the dark for years.

myah swallows, realization crashing down on her.

it’s been days since her grandparents’ bodies were found. how long have they been trapped down here? without food, without answers, without knowing if anyone would ever come for them? they must be starving, confused, what if,

what if they’re hurt?

what if…

"we don’t want trouble."

her breath shudders.

chaos crashes through her thoughts, battling every instinct screaming at her to run.

but she can’t.

not until she knows the truth.

"we have to get in," she says.

chae-eun stares at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "are you insane?"

myah doesn’t answer. she steps closer instead, fingers grazing the edges of the door, feeling the cold metal beneath her touch.

she knows she shouldn’t.

but she has to.

"there has to be a way to open it," she mutters, eyes scanning the rusted locks, the worn edges of the frame.

"myah." chae-eun grabs her arm, forcing her to turn. her grip is tight, urgent. "this is stupid. even if they’re trapped, even if they sound harmless, we don’t know what they are."

"and if we leave, we never will," myah fires back. her pulse is a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her mind racing. "chae-eun, we don’t know how long they’ve been in there. it’s been days since my grandparents were found. what if no one’s fed them? what if they have no food, no water? they could die down here."

something flickers across chae-eun’s face. hesitation, doubt, the same war waging inside myah’s own head. she swallows hard, jaw clenching.

"this is a bad idea," chae-eun mutters.

"maybe," myah says, voice steady. "but leaving them could be worse."

chaos flickers through chae-eun’s expression. fear, frustration, something desperate, before she curses under her breath.

but she doesn’t stop her.

instead, she exhales sharply, eyes flicking toward the rusted tools scattered across the room.

“if we’re doing this, we’re doing it carefully.”

myah nods.

chae-eun exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over her face. “this is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

myah doesn’t argue. because yeah, maybe it is. maybe this is the point where she finally loses it, where she stops making rational choices and starts making reckless ones.

but something deep in her gut tells her this isn’t just about curiosity anymore.

it’s about guilt.

about the blood on her grandparents’ hands.

about the weight of whatever was done in this house, in this basement.

about the quiet, too careful voices behind the door.

"thank you."

the whisper is barely audible. just a breath of sound curling into the air between them.

chae-eun flinches.

"we haven’t done anything yet," myah mutters, but her fingers are already tracing the edges of the door, searching.

there’s no obvious handle, no visible keyhole. just thick, bolted steel and the weight of something waiting on the other side.

"there has to be a mechanism," chae-eun murmurs, glancing around the room. "some kind of release. if your grandparents were keeping them down here, they had to have a way to access it."

she moves toward the far wall, scanning the rusted filing cabinets, the shelves stacked with dust coated objects.

myah keeps her focus on the door.

"how long have you been here?" she asks, her voice low.

"awhile."

the answer is careful. measured.

not desperate.

not frantic.

just… patient.

like they knew someone would come eventually.

like they’ve been waiting.

myah swallows. “how many of you are there?”

a pause.

"seven."

her pulse stutters.

seven.

the weight of it sinks deep into her bones.

"myah," chae-eun calls, voice tight. "i think i found something."

she turns.

chae-eun is standing beside an old, rusted panel on the wall, half-hidden behind a shelf. the metal is corroded, the edges barely visible beneath years of dust and grime.

but it’s there.

a switch.

a release.

"i don’t know if it still works," chae-eun mutters, fingers hovering over it, uncertain.

myah takes a slow breath.

her heartbeat thunders against her ribs.

"only one way to find out," she says.

chae-eun looks at her.

"are you sure?"

no.

she’s not sure.

but she nods anyway.

because there’s no turning back now.

chae-eun exhales sharply as she reaches out, pressing her fingers against the rusted switch.

and pulls.

the basement shudders.

the air shifts.

and behind them they hear heavy locks beginning to turn.

the sound of metal groaning echoes through the basement, vibrating through the stone walls, rattling through myah’s chest.

she should run.

she should turn, grab chae-eun, and leave.

but she doesn’t.

because the door,

it’s opening.

the heavy locks shift, one after another, the deep clunk of metal sliding free making her pulse roar in her ears. dust rains down from the ceiling as the old mechanism grinds into motion, the steel groaning as it begins to inch open.

the air changes immediately.

the cold that seeps through the widening gap is different, thicker, weighted, carrying something alive. something watching.

chae-eun steps back, tense, her breath quick and sharp. "myah," she hisses, panic edging her voice. "i don’t know—"

but it’s too late.

the moment the door fully swings open, myah’s breath locks in her throat.

the room is massive, stretching far beyond what she expected. the dim light from her phone flickers against thick iron bars, cages lining both sides of the basement, the scent of rusted metal and something wild thick in the air.

cha-eun grabs her wrist, grip like iron. "you sure about this?" her voice is low, urgent, barely above a whisper.

myah doesn’t answer. can’t.

because now that the door is open, she can feel it. the weight of unseen eyes pressing into her skin, the silence heavy enough to suffocate.

a shape shifts in the darkness. slow. deliberate.

myah swallows hard. "we need to know."

chae-eun exhales sharply, her hesitation a tangible thing between them. but after a beat, she steps forward, shoulders tense, muscles coiled like she’s ready to bolt at any second.

together, they cross the threshold.

golden eyes gleam in the darkness, reflecting the light like fire catching on glass. shadows shift, slow and watchful, movement rippling through the space like something caged but not yet tamed.

she barely has time to process before a voice calls out again,

"please..."

her flashlight sweeps across the first cage, and her breath catches.

a massive lion hybrid sits against the bars, his golden mane wild, tangled, his amber eyes locked directly onto her. his ears flick at the sound of her footsteps, but he doesn’t move, just watches. waiting. his thick tail curls around his paws, the tuft at the end flicking once, betraying the tension in his frame.

in the next cage, sprawled in the darkness, what looks to be a black panther lifts his head just enough for her to catch the sharp glint of his slit pupiled eyes. his inky fur blends into the surrounding shadows, only the faintest twitch of his whiskers giving him away. he doesn't make a sound. doesn’t blink. just tracks her with a slow, deliberate intensity.

"who are you?"

the voice is softer, coming from further down.

her flashlight flickers over a second pair of golden eyes, no, two.

one belongs to a cheetah hybrid, its lean frame curled against the bars, shoulders hunched like its trying to make itself smaller. They’re fully shifted, spotted fur sleek beneath the dim light, its tail flicking anxiously against the floor. honey-gold eyes dart between her and chae-eun, wide and uncertain, like the cheetah is unsure whether to be relieved or terrified.

the other, is human, well mostly.

a tiger hybrid, perched in the corner of his cage, bare feet planted firmly against the cold concrete floor. his thick tail curls lazily around him, but his shoulders are too tense, his expression too carefully blank. golden brown eyes hold hers, unwavering, unreadable.

she grips the flashlight tighter.

they look scared. but not fully.

but something in her gut twists.

because it doesn’t make sense.

her grandparents had locked them in here. that much was obvious.

but why?

and if they were truly just scared, just victims, then why did the air feel so thick with something she couldn't name?

why did their golden eyes gleam too much in the dark?

"please," the soft voice comes again, breaking through her thoughts. "we don’t want trouble."

it comes from the farthest cage, the hybrid curled against the bars, his hazel eyes wide, flickering with something fragile, something aching. his wispy silver-brown hair falls in soft waves around his face, his delicate ears twitching, tail swaying in slow, rhythmic motions behind him.

"are you here to help us?"

myah hesitates.

her pulse thunders in her ears.

"i—" she starts, then stops. because is she?

"we’ve been here for so long," the clouded leopard hybrid murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. "we don’t even know how long it’s been."

her chest tightens.

the plea in his voice feels real.

but chae-eun isn't buying it.

"myah," she murmurs, voice low, sharp. "this isn't right."

myah swallows. "they’re locked up, chae-eun."

"and why do you think that is?" chae-eun hisses, taking a step closer, keeping her voice low. "you know your grandparents myah, do you really they just threw them in here for no reason?"

the words sting.

because no, myah doesn’t trust her grandparents. not anymore.

but something doesn’t add up.

her flashlight shifts again,

and that’s when she notices the scars.

not deep, not fresh, but there.

along the lion hybrid’s arms, faint and barely visible against his warm, tawny skin. a slash across the leopard’s hybrid’s collarbone. claw marks raked along the black panther’s ribs.

her stomach turns.

"who did this to you?" myah asks, voice tight, her grip on the flashlight unsteady.

a pause.

the silver haired hybrid’s gaze flickers, something unreadable passing through his hazel eyes before he finally speaks.

"the man who put us here."

the words settle like ice in her spine.

"the man who—" she swallows hard, her pulse roaring in her ears, dots being connected.

no one says responds immediately, but the lion hybrid, broad, golden, imposing even in confinement, lifts his head just enough to meet her gaze.

his amber eyes flicker.

he doesn’t nod. doesn’t confirm.

but he doesn’t deny it either.

myah’s stomach twists.

the silence is enough.

"myah," chae-eun mutters, sharp and urgent. "we need to go." but myah can’t move. because this, this is real. this isn’t just a locked door. this isn’t just another one of her family’s secrets. her grandfather did this.

"how long have you been down here?" she whispers.

"too long."

her chest tightens.

she turns to chae-eun, her breath shallow. "we have to get them out."

"myah," chae-eun hisses, "we don’t even know what they are."

"they’re hybrids," myah snaps back. "they’re prisoners."

"and they were kept here for a reason," chae-eun argues, eyes sharp, voice low. "your grandfather wouldn’t have kept them down here without one."

myah wants to fight her on that.

but she can’t.

because she doesn’t know if chae-eun is wrong.

but she does know one thing.

"we’re not leaving yet," she says firmly. "not until I understand what happened here."

chae-eun exhales sharply, muttering a curse under her breath, but she doesn’t argue further.

instead, she moves toward the shelves, scanning the walls for something, anything that could explain why this place exists. behind the bars however the hybrids stay still.

watching.

waiting.

and myah swears,

just for a moment,

she sees the panther smirk.

as she turns back toward the cages, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. her fingers twitch at her sides, the weight of their gazes pressing into her like something tangible.

she doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing.

but she can’t walk away.

"why did he keep you here?" she asks, voice steadier than she feels. "why not just… get rid of you?"

the lion hybrid’s ears twitch, his thick tail flicking once behind him. he’s watching her closely, those deep amber eyes calculating, slow and deliberate.

but it’s the tiger hybrid who finally speaks.

"maybe he liked having pets," he murmurs, voice smooth as silk, golden-amber eyes gleaming in the dark. "or maybe he just liked knowing we couldn’t leave."

the way he says it sends a shiver down her spine.

"how long has it been?" another hybrid hums, tilting his head. "do you know what year it is?”

"of course i do," myah mutters. "it’s—"

she stops. because the way he’s looking at her,

the way the tiger hybrid shifts slightly beside him, the cheetah’s ears flicking, and the jaguars rolling his shoulders like they’re all waiting for something,

her stomach twists.

"you don’t know," she breathes.

none of them confirm it.

but none of them deny it, either.

chaos crashes through her thoughts, her grip on her phone tightening.

"we need to get them food," she says suddenly, turning to chae-eun. "they’re hybrids, not machines. if they’ve been trapped down here—"

"absolutely not," chae-eun snaps. "no way in hell am I leaving you down here alone with them."

"i’ll be fine," myah insists. "just check the fridge—"

"no." chae-eun’s voice is sharp, her jaw tight. "myah, listen to me. we don’t know what they’re capable of. we don’t know anything about them. i’m not leaving you down here like some kind of—"

"bait?"

the voice is too smooth, slipping through the air like a knife.

both of them freeze.

the raven haired hybrid is watching them with lazy amusement, his sleek tail curling around his wrist, golden-amber eyes half-lidded.

"if it makes you feel better," he purrs, "we can promise not to eat her while you’re gone."

chaos erupts.

"nope," chae-eun snaps, grabbing myah’s wrist. "we’re leaving. now."

but myah digs her heels in. "they’re starving, chae-eun."

"and we are not their goddamn saviors," chae-eun hisses. "whatever your grandfather did, it’s not our problem to fix—"

"so you’d just leave them here?" myah cuts in, her voice rising. "leave them to rot?"

"they’re still alive," chae-eun points out. "which means they’ve survived this long without our help. we can’t do this on our own."

silence stretches between them, thick and tense.

behind the bars, the hybrids watch.

assessing. waiting.

"fine," myah mutters. "then we’ll both go."

chae-eun’s eyes flick toward the cages one last time before she exhales sharply. "fine."

she doesn’t look at them as they turn toward the stairs.

but myah can feel their eyes on her.

heavy.

lingering.

like they already know,

she’s coming back.

chae-eun’s car is as neat as she is. clean, organized, everything tucked away exactly where it should be.

except for the backseat.

myah stares at the mess of medical supplies crammed into the space behind them. bandages, antiseptic wipes, surgical scissors still in their sterile packaging. a neatly packed emergency trauma kit sits half-zipped on the floor, a few vials of painkillers barely peeking out. the interior smells faintly of rubbing alcohol and lemon-scented wipes. it should feel sterile. safe.

but now it just feels clinical. like a place built to respond to the aftermath of violence.

it’s not the first time she’s noticed it. she’s ridden in chae-eun’s car more times than she can count. on grocery runs, late-night drives to clear their heads, weekend trips to nowhere in particular. she’s seen the supplies. but she’s never really seen them.

this time, after everything that just happened in the basement, it feels different.

“you never told me how bad it got,” myah says, voice quieter than before, eyes still fixed on the mess of gauze and blood-stained tape peeking from beneath a box of gloves.

chae-eun doesn’t look at her as she starts the car. “i didn’t think i needed to.”

the engine hums low as they pull out of the driveway, the headlights casting long, pale streaks across the empty street. her hands are tight on the steering wheel, knuckles white. the kind of white that comes from trying not to let your hands shake.

myah shifts slightly in her seat, unsettled by the silence, by the weight of what they’d just seen. the hybrids. the cages. the way one of them, unshifted, bleeding had flinched when chae-eun so much as moved.

“you work with hybrids,” she says finally, almost accusingly. “why are you so—”

“those hybrids aren’t the same.”

the words land like a slap. sharp. cold. not cruel, but close.

cha-eun exhales through her nose, gaze flicking to the rearview mirror before settling back on the road. the city lights are beginning to blur past them, red and blue and green glowing against the windshield like reflections from a dream.

“i work in sector four,” she continues, voice clipped, tightly measured. “mostly human and female hybrids. the ones who get hurt the most. the ones who end up on my table covered in bruises, missing teeth, stitched up from some feral hybrid attack or worse.”

myah swallows hard, her throat suddenly dry. she’s heard stories. seen the news reports that play like clockwork every time a hybrid-related crime occurs. not all hybrids are victims. not all of them want help. some of them hunt.

some of them kill.

and chae-eun has seen the worst of it.

“you think they’re different because they looked at you like that,” chae-eun says quietly, her voice flattening into something tired, something brittle. “but scared doesn’t mean safe. it just means desperate. and desperation makes things dangerous.”

myah doesn’t respond. her stomach is twisted too tightly, thoughts tangled too thickly.

the silence stretches between them, thick with everything they’re not saying.

and then chae-eun adds, more quietly this time, almost like she’s afraid to say it out loud: “your grandparents died in a hybrid attack.”

myah turns sharply, staring at her. “what?”

“the reports, they said they were mauled. claws, bite marks. there were signs of struggle all over the kitchen. your grandfather had a shotgun. it didn’t help.”

the blood drains from myah’s face. she feels it leave her fingertips, cold creeping up her spine.

“and in that basement?” chae-eun’s voice is quieter now. measured. grim. “there are seven hybrids in eight cages.”

myah’s breath catches.

“you do the math.”

a cold sweat breaks across her back. she grips the edge of her seat, the world tilting slightly, the basement reassembling itself in her mind, seven sets of eyes, seven shadows behind bars. but she hadn’t counted the cages. hadn’t even thought to.

what if one had gotten out? what if that’s how they died?

what if it’s still out there?

“and you want to help them,” chae-eun continues, voice low, almost pained. “you want to free them. play savior. what if the one that escaped is the one that killed your family? what if the others knew and didn’t stop it?”

myah’s hands tremble. her chest aches.

but her mind,

her mind flashes again with soft eyes and silver hair, the gentle tilt of his head, the way he’d spoken to her like he saw her.

she should be running from this. from all of it.

but she can’t.

because something about him, about them, won’t let her go.

“so forgive me,” chae-eun says tightly, “if i’m not exactly in the mood to play savior to seven unregistered hybrids your grandfather locked in his basement.”

the car goes quiet.

outside, the neon of the city pulses like a heartbeat, flickering in the windows—restaurants, strip malls, pawn shops, each glowing with artificial warmth. it doesn’t reach her. nothing does.

myah turns back toward the windshield, her reflection faint in the glass. she stares through it, but she doesn’t really see.

because all she can think about is the soft voice that asked her to come back. the way he’d looked at her like she was something safe. Something he knew.

and that’s the part that scares her most.

chae-eun exhales sharply, fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the steering wheel, the sound too fast, too tight. “and what exactly are we supposed to tell jisun when we get back?”

myah drags a hand down her face, the weight of the night starting to catch up to her. her head aches, tight and persistent like her thoughts. “i don’t know. that we went out for a drive?”

chae-eun lets out a humorless snort. “right. because that’s gonna fly. we both probably still reek of that place.”

myah goes still.

the basement.

she can feel it clinging to her now that chae-eun’s said it, the stale scent of dust and rust, old blood and sweat and something sharper beneath it all. something animal.

and not just that.

them.

the scent of fear. of power barely restrained. of too many eyes watching her through bars like they already knew her bones.

“i’ll shower before she gets too close,” she mutters.

chae-eun’s jaw ticks. “you could shower in bleach and she’d still know. myah, she’s obsessed with you.”

“she’s not—”

“don’t even try.” chae-eun cuts in, voice flat. “you know exactly what she’s like. the moment you walk through that door with a weird look on your face and half a story, she’s gonna dig.”

myah doesn’t deny it.

she can’t.

because jisun is smart. terrifyingly so. and worse, she’s protective. of myah, specifically. her moods turn fast. sweet like sugar one second, sharp like a snapped snare the next. and if she so much as suspects that myah’s hiding something,

"then we don’t give her anything to suspect,” myah says finally, her voice low. “we keep it surface. vague. just enough to make sense.”

“so we lie.” chae-eun doesn’t say it like a question. more like a dare.

myah glances out the window. the city’s creeping closer now, closer than she wants it to be. neon signs blinking against the dark like slow, mechanical winks. streetlights bending through the windshield, casting soft gold over the dash.

“we don’t tell her about the basement,” she says after a long pause. “not yet.”

“not ever,” chae-eun mutters, hands tightening around the wheel again. “jesus, myah, do you know what she’d do if she found out? she’d drag you out of bed, chain you to the damn radiator, and torch the house herself.”

the image is uncomfortably believable.

they both fall quiet for a beat, the air in the car growing thicker by the second.

“so,” myah says finally, voice barely above a whisper, “we agree, then. we figure it out.”

it’s not a real plan. it’s a compromise born out of exhaustion and panic and a shared instinct not to poke the sleeping bear that is jisun. it’s flimsy. reckless.

but it’s all they have.

“yeah,” chae-eun says after a long moment, the word more like an exhale than a commitment. “we figure it out.”

neither of them says anything else for a while. the car hums forward down the quiet road, the lights growing closer, brighter, sharper. they’re almost back now.

and myah can feel it in her chest—that tight pull, that creeping dread curling around her ribs. the apartment is safe. normal. filled with warmth and noise and the scent of jasmine tea. the kind of place that’s supposed to ground her.

but tonight, it feels too far away.

because the only thing she can hear, beneath the rumble of the tires, beneath the rush of blood in her ears, is that soft voice echoing in her head.

“thank you for not giving up on us”

and she knows, she’s not going to.

no matter what it costs.

they don’t speak again until chae-eun’s pulling into the lot.

the hum of the car engine fills the silence, low and steady, but it’s not enough to drown out the noise in myah’s head.

she watches the familiar curve of the building come into view—the warm orange glow of the hallway lights in their apartment complex, the too-small parking spots, the dented railing someone’s been complaining about fixing for months. it’s home. safe. normal.

and it feels so far away.

cha-eun shifts into park but doesn’t kill the engine.

her hands stay tight on the wheel.

“you’re already planning to go back, aren’t you.”

myah doesn’t answer.

not out of guilt, or because she’s trying to be clever, but because yes. she is. she’s been planning it since the moment she walked away. since she saw silver eyes in the dark and heard a voice that made something inside her sit up and listen.

cha-eun exhales through her nose, her knuckles pale. “of course you are.”

“i’m not going tonight,” myah says after a beat. she tries to keep her voice light. it doesn’t work. “besides, you’re working a double tomorrow. you need sleep.”

cha-eun’s head jerks toward her, sharp. “that’s your reason for waiting?”

myah doesn’t answer.

cha-eun exhales hard. “are you planning to go alone?”

“no,” myah says. and then, after a beat too long: “i’ll bring someone.”

“who?” she says, though she already knows.

“…kai.”

cha-eun stares at her for a second like she’s trying to figure out if she misheard before letting out a sharp, breathy sound that isn’t quite a laugh, too horrified for humor.

“kai. okay. great.”

“he’s a hybrid,” myah says, starting to defend it, already hearing how weak it sounds.

“exactly,” chae-eun snaps. “and do you honestly think that makes him qualified?”

“he understands how things like this work—”

“no, he understands what it means to survive,” chae-eun cuts in, voice sharp. “and the second you drag him into that basement and he sees what’s waiting down there? he’s not going to help you, myah. he’s going to shut it down.”

myah’s mouth opens. then closes.

“you think he’s just going to stand there and smile while you get cozy with a bunch of unregistered, starved, male hybrids?” chae-eun’s voice keeps climbing. “you think he’s going to just let that panther keep looking at you like that?”

myah’s stomach twists.

“kai’s not like that,” she says, too quickly.

cha-eun slams her hand against the steering wheel, voice cracking. “kai would rip him apart. rip all of them apartthe second he felt you were being threatened. and it won’t matter if you don’t feel threatened, because he will.”

the car is thick with silence again. this time heavier. uglier.

“he’s not going to let you go back,” chae-eun says finally, quieter now. “not once he knows what’s actually going on. not once he sees what they want.”

myah looks away, but that hits. hard.

because she knows what it looked like.

and she knows what it would look like to kai.

and he wouldn’t understand, not the way she needs him to. not without exploding. not without violence.

“then what,” myah says, voice tight. “just call it in? let some half-interested social worker show up and ‘assess the risk’? let the hybrids get drugged and shoved in a van and carted off to some overrun shelter in the middle of nowhere?”

“yes,” chae-eun says, like it’s obvious. “that’s exactly what needs to happen.”

“you can’t be serious—”

“i am. dead serious.” she leans forward, eyes flashing. “you’re not trained for this. you don’t know what you’re doing. this isn’t your responsibility, myah. it never was. this is government-level, containment-level shit, and you dragging in another hybrid, especially one who’s already attached to you, isn’t going to make it better.”

that lands harder than anything else.

and it hurts, because part of her knows she’s right. she is. but still, something in myah recoils.

“i need to know what they were doing,” she says finally, voice low. “my grandparents. the house, the cages, all of it.” she shakes her head. “it doesn’t make sense. none of it fits. and nobody else is going to care enough to look.”

“you think you’ll find some neat little explanation down there?” chae-eun snaps. “a confession letter taped to the underside of the freezer? myah, you could dig for months and still end up with more questions than answers.”

“maybe,” myah admits, “but at least i’d know i tried. i can’t pretend it didn’t happen. that basement is real. they’re real. and if it’s connected to my family, then i need to understand how.”

cha-eun exhales, eyes dropping to the dash.

“i’m not saying forget it,” she says, softer now. “i’m saying let it go before it swallows you.”

myah swallows hard.

and for a second, she almost says okay.

almost.

but when she closes her eyes, she still sees the silver-haired one, how he’d looked at her like he knew something. like the answers she was chasing weren’t in the paperwork, or the lawyer’s files, or the old photographs in her grandparents’ bedroom.

they were down there.

in the silence.

in them.

and it’s reckless. she knows it’s reckless.

but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

“…i just need time,” she says quietly.

“you don’t have time,” chae-eun whispers back.

but neither of them says anything more after that.

neither of them move. not yet.

the hum of the engine is steady beneath them, but everything else is cracking. shifting. realigning into something neither of them asked for.

chae-eun finally leans forward and turns the key in the ignition.

the car goes silent.

myah had barely registered the motion of getting out of the car. her feet felt like they were dragging, her mind too clouded to focus on anything other than the feeling of dread that had settled deep in her chest. as they made their way inside, the building’s lobby seemed colder than usual, and the air hung heavy with the kind of stillness that always felt like something was about to break.

she had barely gotten her keys out when the door to the apartment swung open. there, standing in the doorway, was jisun, eyes wide with concern.

“where were you two?” she asked, her voice soft but demanding, like she knew something was wrong, like she could already feel the shift in myah’s energy.

myah hesitated for a moment, then gave a small shrug, trying to brush it off. “oh, we just went to grab a bite to eat,” she said, glancing at chae-eun for confirmation.

chae-eun nodded, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “yeah, we went to that cute little restaurant my coworkers have been talking about. the one with the soft, fluffy pancakes.”

jisun raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “you went to a restaurant in sector two?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. she sniffed the air once, then again, her nose twitching slightly as she processed the scent. her eyes narrowed. “you smell like... ferals,” she said, her voice quieter now, the concern creeping in.

chae-eun tilted her head. “ferals?” she echoed, glancing at myah with a raised brow.

“yeah,” jisun said, her gaze sharpening as she studied myah. “ferals... or someone’s trying to mark you.” she sniffed again, her posture becoming tense. “why the hell were you in that sector anyway? I get you were hungry but there’s a mcdonalds is down the street. you know how dangerous it gets this late.”

“someone marked us?!” chae-eun exclaimed, worry laced in her tone, her eyes darting between myah and jisun. “we didn’t—”

“no, not you,” jisun cut in, taking another deep sniff, her nose circling back to myah with an almost predatory precision. her eyes sharpened as she focused entirely on myah. “just her.”

myah’s stomach dropped at the implication. her chest tightened as jisun’s words settled in the air like a weight. she swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “marked me? what does that even mean?”

jisun’s expression darkened, her lips pressed together in a tight line. “it means someone or something has claimed you, myah. not necessarily in the way you might think, but,” her voice trailed off as she looked myah up and down, her sharp eyes never leaving her. “this scent, this… feeling, it’s not a coincidence. and it’s not good.”

chae-eun shifted nervously beside her, crossing her arms tighter. “but how? how could anyone just claim her? what does it mean?”

“i don’t know,” jisun admitted quietly, her voice softer now, a flicker of concern breaking through the cool edge. “but it’s not something you want to mess with. you’re in danger now. and it’s worse the later it gets. someone’s definitely watching you.”

myah’s heart raced, her breath catching in her chest. “so what should we do? what now?”

“now,” jisun began, her gaze lingering on myah as she stepped closer, lowering her voice, “you stay close to home. you stay away from sector two. don’t go out alone. and if you feel anything off, anything at all, anything, you call one of us, or even that stupid fox, no questions. got it?”

myah nodded quickly, the weight of jisun’s warning settling heavily in her bones. the air around her felt thick with something more dangerous than she had realized, and she wasn’t sure how to navigate it. everything felt too uncertain now.

“we’ll stick together,” chae-eun added, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of concern. “no more risky moves. we’ll figure this out.”

jisun’s expression softened, but her eyes still held a trace of that intensity, as if she wasn’t fully convinced it was safe. “yeah, well. don’t get complacent. that’s how people end up disappearing.”

myah felt her skin prickle at the word. disappearing. it echoed in her mind like a whisper.

"we'll be careful," she said, though her voice felt small against the heaviness in the room.

the warning was clear, stay away from that house, that basement. yet myah knew tomorrow she would be back.

the morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting a pale glow across the room. myah blinked awake, the gentle warmth of her bed pulling her into a moment of peace before the reality of the day ahead sank in. for a split second, she let herself sink deeper into the mattress, the faint hum of the city outside the only sound in the quiet apartment. it felt like a different world, a world where she could just stay here and forget. but that wasn’t her life anymore.

she shifted in bed, rubbing her eyes and groaning quietly. the bed beside her was empty, the sheets crumpled from when jisun had left for her early class. myah had barely noticed when she’d gotten up, the soft sound of her roommate’s footsteps and the creak of the door the only clues. jisun had always been considerate about her early classes, never wanting to wake myah up. it was one of those little things she did that made myah appreciate her so much more.

she pushed the blankets off her body, sitting up slowly, her limbs heavy from the lack of sleep, though it wasn’t from exhaustion, it was the tension of the night before still weighing on her. her heart beat slower now, but the unease from the warning, from the knowledge of what she had to do, lingered like a shadow.

as she stood and moved toward the window, myah caught sight of chae-eun in the kitchen, her back to her as she prepared breakfast. the soft clink of the kettle being set down, the smell of something rich and warm in the air. it felt oddly comforting. something familiar amidst everything else that had gone wrong.

“morning,” myah mumbled, rubbing at her eyes again, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

chae-eun turned with a soft smile, a cup of tea in her hand. “good morning. how’d you sleep?”

myah sighed, stretching her arms above her head as she walked over to the counter. “like crap,” she admitted, settling into the chair, her gaze flickering to chae-eun. “just can’t shake the feeling of... everything.”

“yeah,” chae-eun murmured, setting the cup down before her, her eyes softening as she studied myah. “it’s been a rough night. did you talk to jisun?”

myah shook her head, her hands wrapped around the warm mug. “she had an early class, didn’t want to wake me up.” she sighed again, this time louder. “i didn’t even want to wake up myself. it’s just one of those mornings.”

cha-eun nodded in understanding, but the way she looked at myah, that lingering thought on her mind. it was clear she wasn’t letting this go.

“you sure you’re okay?” cha-eun asked, her voice lighter but her eyes serious. “you don’t look like it.”

myah gave her a tired smile, but it was thin, strained. “i’ll be fine. just a little shaken up, that’s all.”

the moment hung between them for a beat, and cha-eun didn’t press. instead, she moved toward the stove, fiddling with the pots. “well, if you want to talk, i’m here. just don’t bottle it up, okay?”

myah gave a slight nod, watching her in silence as the air shifted, becoming thicker with the weight of their unspoken thoughts. cha-eun, always the one who saw the smallest details, could tell something was off, something deeper. and myah knew the next question was coming. she braced herself, trying to steel herself for the inevitable.

but when it came, it wasn’t gentle.

“you can’t seriously think about going back, right?” cha-eun’s voice was low, but sharp enough to cut through the tension. her eyes narrowed as she turned to face myah, the concern evident on her face. “especially after what jisun said? they claimed you, myah. claimed you. marked you.”

myah’s breath hitched, the word “claimed” hanging in the air, ringing in her ears like a warning bell. her heart skipped a beat, but she pushed it away. “i don’t have a choice, chae-eun,” she said quietly, her voice a little too steady. “i have to go back. i need answers. i need to understand what’s going on.”

“but—” cha-eun stepped closer, her face softening, her hands placed flat against the counter as if grounding herself. “you’re not thinking straight. you don’t know what’s out there, what’s waiting for you. What if jisun’s right, what if they’re not just marking you. they’re hunting you.”

myah opened her mouth to argue, but the words felt too heavy in her throat. cha-eun was right. she wasn’t thinking straight. but she couldn’t back down now. she had to know what happened, what her grandparents were involved in, what she had inherited by stepping into that house. something had happened there, and she wasn’t going to back away from it, no matter how many warnings or how much fear clawed at her chest.

“i don’t care,” myah finally said, her voice firm despite the cold dread spreading through her veins. “i have to go. i’ll figure it out. i just... i can’t leave it hanging over me.”

chae-eun watched her for a long moment, her lips pressing together in a tight line. she exhaled sharply, almost as if giving up, but then the words came, filled with that quiet edge of concern.

“okay, fine,” she said, her voice low. “but you’re going to need more backup than kai. you’re going to need... more.”

“more?” myah echoed, raising an eyebrow. “more backup? what do you mean?”

cha-eun leaned against the counter, her gaze shifting from myah’s face to the window, where the early morning light cast long shadows across the street. “call the police, myah. get professionals involved. you don’t know what’s out there. you’re not just going to walk in there and walk back out. and kai’s not enough. if something happens, you need to be prepared.”

myah swallowed, the weight of cha-eun’s words sinking deep into her chest. she hadn’t thought about it that way. she’d been so focused on going back, on finding out what was really going on, that she hadn’t considered how unprepared she really was. what if something happened? what if they were waiting for her?

“you’re right,” myah murmured, her voice quieter now, weighed down by the growing realization that she couldn’t do this alone. “i’ll call a hybrid service office. one that’s ethical and figure out what to do from there.”

“good,” cha-eun said, her voice softening as she reached over and squeezed myah’s shoulder. “this isn’t your responsibility. your grandparents might have fucked up, but you shouldn’t carry this burden alone.”

myah nodded, her chest tight with the unspoken promise. they would face it together. she didn’t know what was coming, but she wasn’t walking into it blind anymore.

the tension in the room began to lift slightly, the quiet comfort of their usual dynamic slowly returning as cha-eun began to gather her things to head out for work. myah remained seated for a moment, lost in thought. she could still feel the weight of the decision ahead of her, the uncertainty hanging like a cloud over her head. but for the first time that morning, she felt like she wasn’t carrying it alone.

“you’ll be okay,” cha-eun said, her voice light, though there was still concern in her eyes. “just remember to reach out if you need anything. me, the police... call whoever you have to.”

“i will,” myah promised, a small but genuine smile pulling at her lips. “thanks.”

with a nod, cha-eun picked up her bag and headed toward the door. “you’re stronger than you think,” she said over her shoulder, her words lingering in the air. “don’t forget that.”

and with that, she was gone, leaving myah alone in the quiet apartment once more. but the stillness felt different now. not so heavy. not so uncertain.

myah stood up, straightening her clothes, taking a deep breath.

she wasn’t going to back down, no matter how much she wished she could. chae-eun had been right, she needed more help, more backup. but who could she rely on?

her only family just died and everyone else was too far away or busy. school, work, their own lives. they wouldn’t be able to help, let alone understand the gravity of the situation.

and the police?

hybrid services?

the thought made her chest tighten.

her heart ached with something she couldn’t quite name. not guilt exactly, not fear either, something sharper. something heavier. like grief, but still forming. a knot of determination that hadn’t quite settled yet, tangled with something raw and restless and aching to make sense of all of it.

the truth was, if she called it in, if she let hybrid services come in and "handle" it, it would be the end.

they’d be torn from that basement, sedated, evaluated, assigned numbers, and locked away again. not for weeks.

forever.

because most of those hybrids, especially the predatory ones, would never make it out of a shelter once they were placed in one.

not the adults.

not the ones like them.

they were labeled too dangerous. unadoptable. unpredictable. too violent for re-entry into the workforce, too scarred for family placement. society had long since decided they were problems to be managed, not people to be saved.

and once they were in the system, that was it.

they'd disappear.

just like so many others.

but myah had seen them. not just down there in that cold, rotting basement, but years ago, back in high school, volunteering at a hybrid recovery center during summer break. she remembered the ones with hollow eyes and clipped ears, the ones who flinched at sudden movements and kept their heads down.

but she also remembered the way they moved when they thought no one was watching, silent, graceful, brilliant. she remembered the quiet strength in their bodies, the soft, unguarded moments when their masks slipped.

the kind of resilience no government file could capture.

no one ever looked long enough to see that part.

but myah had.

and now, she was seeing it again.

only this time, it wasn’t behind plexiglass and safety protocols, it was behind rusted iron, in the glow of a single swinging lightbulb, with eyes that watched her like she mattered.

and him.

the silver-haired one.

he haunted her thoughts more than the rest. not because he was the most beautiful, though he was, but because there was something in his voice when he spoke to her. something she couldn’t forget.

something human.

no judgment. no bitterness. just…

quiet gratitude.

warmth.

trust.

as if he already knew she wouldn’t leave him there.

as if he’d been waiting for her.

it made her chest hurt. made her wonder what he knew.

what he’d seen.

and that was the other thing, the part she hadn’t said out loud yet, not even to chae-eun.

they were the key to understanding everything.

the whispers sealed in her grandfather’s safe. the secret side of her family she never knew existed. who they really were. what they’d done.

there was a rot at the center of it all, and the only place she’d ever felt close to it was in that basement.

standing in front of those cages.

staring into those eyes.

no one deserves to be locked away.

not forever.

and that was why she couldn’t let it go.

even if it meant risking everything.

even if it meant lying to her friends.

even if it meant stepping straight into something she might not walk out of.

she wasn’t going to let them vanish into the system like they were nothing. she wasn’t going to let her life be defined by silence, by ignorance, by the same kind of cage her family had apparently helped build.

if she was going to get answers,

if she was going to help them,

if she was ever going to understand what the hell her grandparents had really been involved in,

then she had to start by going back.

even if every part of her said she shouldn’t.

even if it already felt too late.

she had to face it.

she shook off the lingering doubt and made her way to the door, grabbing her keys from the hook by the entrance. she stepped out into the hallway, the familiar scent of the building’s damp concrete filling her lungs, but it did nothing to ease the unease crawling up her spine.

the city was alive around her, bustling with the usual chaos, but she felt completely disconnected from it all. she moved quickly, trying to block out the intrusive thoughts, the questions of whether she was making a mistake.

as she made her way to the train station, the streets felt emptier than usual, the buildings casting long, looming shadows over the sidewalks. the rain had stopped, leaving the pavement slick and reflective, but the tension in the air was palpable, like the whole city was holding its breath.

her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as she walked, the familiar route to the house feeling foreign under her feet. she glanced around, half-expecting someone to be following her, but there was no one.

just the hum of the city, the occasional car speeding by, the echo of her own footsteps.

when she arrived finally at the house, it seemed even more intimidating in the daylight. it loomed before her, quiet and brooding, as if it had been waiting for her return. myah paused at the gate, her heart thudding in her chest.

the house hadn’t changed, its faded, weather beaten exterior, the overgrown ivy clinging to the walls, the windows dark and lifeless. everything about it screamed abandonment. and yet, it was calling to her. pulling her back. demanding that she come inside.

with a deep breath, she pushed open the gate, the rusty hinges creaking in protest. the sound echoed through the stillness, making her flinch. she moved up the cracked stone steps, each one heavy under her feet, until she reached the door. she paused there for a moment, hand resting on the handle.

do i really want to do this?

the thought hit her like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t flinch this time. she couldn’t afford to. she had already made the choice.

she turned the handle and stepped inside.

the air was the same as yesterday, thick with dust. the old house holding its breath, as though waiting for her to make her move.

the floor creaked beneath her feet, the familiar scent of must and aged wood filling her lungs. the hallway stretched ahead, dark and silent, the faded wallpaper peeling in some places, revealing the skeleton of the house beneath. everything looked the same as it had when she left. and yet, it felt different. darker.

she made her way through the house, the silence pressing in around her as she moved towards the hatch to the basement. the steps leading down felt narrower than before, the air getting colder as she descended. her heart pounded louder now, the anticipation building in her chest with every step. she wasn’t sure what she expected to find, but she knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

when she reached the bottom, the basement stretched out before her, dimly lit by a flickering light bulb that cast eerie shadows on the stone walls. the cages were still there, stacked in rows against the walls. and there they were.

the hybrids.

the ones she had met just yesterday.

the ones whose eyes she could never forget.

the silence was suffocating. they didn’t make a sound. they just watched her. their eyes, so full of life and longing, fixed on her, waiting. expecting.

one of the hybrids, the lion, shifted slowly inside his cage, the bars groaning faintly as he leaned into them.

his movements were deliberate, graceful in a way that spoke of restrained strength. golden eyes, deep and piercing, locked onto hers, holding her captive in their intensity. the rounded ears atop his head flicked just slightly, attentive to every tiny sound she made, and his thick tail curled languidly behind him, swishing in silent contemplation.

“you came back,” he murmured, his voice a deep, rumbling vibration that seemed to ripple through the darkness, touching places within her she didn't fully understand. it carried a heaviness, something hidden beneath layers of calm control.

myah froze in place, her heart hammering against her ribs. his words echoed through the basement, hanging in the air between them, charged with meaning she couldn't decipher. she didn't know if she felt relief or fear, or some intoxicating mixture of both, but there was no turning back now.

“i had to,” she whispered back, voice barely audible, trembling slightly beneath the intensity of his stare. “i’m not leaving you here.”

he remained motionless for a heartbeat longer, gaze unyielding, a flicker of something unreadable.

something darkly possessive passing through those golden eyes.

his lips curved into the faintest ghost of a smile, subtle enough to almost seem imagined, but unmistakably there. her breath caught as the realization settled heavily into her bones.

the silence stretched between them, deeper and more charged now, until it felt as though the room itself were waiting, holding its breath.

and in that quiet, myah sensed something else begin to take shape, something dangerous, enticing, and far beyond her control.

the silence lingered, dense and heavy, pressing in around her until myah felt like she could barely breathe. she let her eyes drift away from the golden-haired hybrid in front of her, shifting instead toward the others trapped in their cages.

they watched her carefully.

silently.

their eyes, so piercing and full of guarded curiosity, seemed to catch the faint, dim lighting in the basement, each gaze following her movements with a predatory focus she tried desperately to ignore.

she swallowed hard, the lump in her throat painfully tight, before realization suddenly flooded her chest. her heart twisted sharply as she took in the hollowed look to their faces, the subtle way their ribs pressed sharply against skin.

god, when was the last time they had eaten?

"oh my god," she whispered, voice breaking slightly, guilt stabbing sharply in her chest. "you all must be starving."

the golden eyed hybrid’s gaze softened, something almost amused flickering behind the predatory calm in his eyes. he tilted his head slightly, studying her carefully, his long tail flicking lazily behind him.

From across the room another hybrid, with midnight dark hair spoke up,

"you care," he drawled slowly, voice deep and smooth like honey, though an edge lingered beneath the surface, subtle and dangerous. "how interesting."

myah’s cheeks heated at the weight behind his words, but she forced herself to stay steady, stepping a little closer despite the warning bells going off in her mind. she ignored them, shaking off her hesitation. she had to help. she couldn't turn her back, not now.

"of course i care," she replied, voice stronger now, her chin lifting slightly with defiance. "no one deserves this. i won’t leave you hungry."

from one of the cages behind her came a quiet chuckle, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down her spine. turning sharply, she caught sight of another hybrid in the shadows, his silvery-white hair glowing softly even in the dimness, eyes glittering like shards of ice as he regarded her from behind the rusted bars.

"brave little human," he murmured softly, tone playful but dangerously sharp around the edges, "you have no idea what hunger really means."

myah tried not to let his words unsettle her further, tried not to let his icy stare cut beneath her skin. instead, she focused again on the lion hybrid, meeting his steady golden gaze head-on. "i’ll get food. just, wait here."

another amused sound drifted from the raven haired hybrid, his amber eyes peering at her from the darkness. his lips curved faintly into something sharp and unsettlingly knowing.

"we're not going anywhere," he drawled, voice silky but cold, dripping with quiet menace. "take your time."

myah took one last glance at their eyes, sharp, glowing, hungry, and turned quickly, racing back up the creaking basement stairs. her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she emerged into the stale air of the house, her mind spinning wildly.

food.

she had to find food. but what did they even eat?

hybrids, predators, they probably needed meat.

fresh meat.

her stomach turned uneasily at the thought, memories flickering through her mind of childhood visits spent here. her grandfather had hunted regularly, she remembered vividly.

yet, somehow, she’d never once seen a deer carcass or anything remotely like it inside the house.

no, there had never been any raw meat in the fridge. not even once. her grandparents had always kept their kitchen pristine and tidy, a place of warmth and home-cooked meals. there had never been anything bloody or raw tucked away.

so where had it all gone?

myah spun around slowly in the kitchen, pulse quickening as realization dawned on her.

the shed.

her grandfather’s old hunting shed. the little wooden shack that had always felt eerie and had been forbidden during her childhood.

it sat tucked back in the shadowed corner of the backyard, concealed by overgrown bushes and towering trees. she’d never been allowed near it as a child; her grandfather had always warned her away, claiming it was dangerous.

She always assumed it was because her grandparents didn’t want her to get ahold of her grandpa’s rifles and knifes, but now, she understood the true reason.

it must’ve been where he’d stored the meat, fresh from his hunts, hidden away from innocent eyes.

myah rushed out the back door, stepping quickly through the tall grass, the yard eerily quiet around her. the old shed loomed at the edge of the property, dark and weathered with age. ivy crept up its sides, tendrils gripping tightly onto rotting wood. it felt like something from a nightmare, shadowy and foreboding. but she pushed down the dread, forcing herself forward.

with a trembling hand, she grasped the rusty door handle, wrenching the creaking door open. the interior was dark, dusty, smelling strongly of leather, oil, and something sharp and metallic. the air inside felt colder than outside, raising goosebumps along her arms.

she fumbled for the old light switch beside the door, praying it still worked. after a tense moment, the dim bulb flickered to life, casting pale, sickly yellow light across the cluttered space.

her grandfather’s hunting gear lay scattered everywhere, rifles mounted on racks along the walls, knives and traps piled haphazardly on a workbench, old hunting boots lined up beside crates stacked high against one wall. but at the far end of the shed stood something else,

a large industrial freezer, humming quietly.

myah swallowed hard, stepping hesitantly toward it, her throat dry. her heart beat wildly in her chest as she placed her hand on the cold metal handle.

she’d come too far now to turn back.

with a firm tug, she opened the heavy door, a blast of freezing air rushing out to meet her, carrying with it the metallic scent of frozen blood. inside, neatly stacked on shelves, were wrapped cuts of raw meat, large and small. each package labeled meticulously in her grandfather’s neat, cursive handwriting.

deer.

elk.

rabbit.

even something labeled boar.

her stomach churned again at the sight, but relief flooded through her just as quickly. at least there was enough here to feed them. to ease some of their suffering.

carefully, myah pulled out several packages of meat, ignoring the sharp chill that bit at her fingers. she had no idea how much they’d need, but she grabbed enough that her arms strained under the weight. the freezer door slammed shut heavily behind her, echoing sharply in the quiet of the shed.

as she made her way back across the yard, she felt a prickling at the back of her neck, the creeping sensation of being watched. she glanced around quickly, but saw nothing.

just the still, empty yard, the trees looming silently. she shook her head, dismissing the feeling.

she had other things to worry about right now.

by the time she reached the hatch in the kitchen again, her heart was hammering so loudly she feared the hybrids would hear it. she steadied herself carefully, balancing the frozen packages awkwardly in her arms as she descended the steps, back into their cage lined darkness.

their eyes were waiting for her, glowing softly in the shadows, sharp and calculating. watching. hungry.

"i found something, i hope this helps," myah said quietly, steadying her voice as she lifted the heavy packages of frozen meat onto the worn wooden table. her pulse quickened under the weight of their gazes, each hybrid watching her with an intensity she stubbornly refused to show intimidated her.

The same hybrid stepped forward, his amber eyes narrowing slightly, glinting with predatory curiosity. his movements were smooth, deliberate, exuding a controlled menace barely contained behind rusted bars.

"oh, it helps," he purred softly, voice smooth and dangerously alluring, eyes never leaving her face. "you have no idea just how hungry we've been."

myah forced herself not to flinch under his stare, silently holding his gaze with quiet defiance. she wasn't going to let him see how easily he could rattle her. her composure was her armor, and right now, she needed every bit of it.

"interesting," the lion hybrid remarked softly, gaze steady and quietly evaluating. "you returned without your friend this time. was she too frightened to come back?"

myah paused slightly, she vividly remembered how tense chae-eun had been yesterday when they first discovered the hybrids; the way her friend's eyes widened at the creatures who'd seemed so fearful, so vulnerable in their cages. at that moment, they’d looked more frightened of them than the other way around.

myah couldn't help but wonder what had changed. were they simply hungry, exhausted, or was it something else?

"she thought it was better to stay behind," myah replied carefully, keeping her voice even. "after yesterday, i can't say i blame her."

from the cage closest to the stairs, another hybrid chuckled quietly, lounging with casual elegance against the bars. his deep brown curls drawing attention even in the shadowy basement, his tiger-like eyes playful and subtly teasing as he watched her reaction.

"shame," he drawled lightly, a lazy smirk curving his lips. "we barely got a chance to say hello."

myah raised an eyebrow slightly, managing a faint, wry smile despite the unease fluttering in her stomach.

"i think your idea of a greeting might be a bit different than ours," she replied dryly, masking her nerves beneath humor.

a quiet grunt slipped from the cage across from his, containing what looked to be a jaguar.

the hybrid was still shifted, however his gaze held a quiet amusement, silently studying her reaction with careful, thoughtful intensity.

the subtle tension shifted again when a gentler voice drew her attention, familiar, soft, and inexplicably comforting. her heart quickened slightly in recognition. this was the hybrid she’d spoken to through the door yesterday, the gentle voice that had quietly pleaded with her, easing her doubts.

the hybrid who had asked her to return, who she had been unable to forget about.

stepping slightly closer to his cage, she saw his delicate features more clearly, soft hazel eyes wide with sincerity beneath wispy silver hair.

"you shouldn't blame yourself," he murmured quietly, his gaze gentle, reassuring, yet tinged with subtle sadness. "we knew you'd come back. thank you for keeping your promise."

myah’s breath steadied subtly at his quiet sincerity, inexplicably comforted by his voice, his gentle expression. she couldn’t help but trust him, despite the uncertainty that still prickled at the edges of her mind.

"i just want to help," she said softly, earnestness slipping into her tone as she held his gaze briefly.

from the back again, the black-haired hybrid shifted slightly, regaining her attention effortlessly. his eyes narrowed subtly, golden gaze glittering with quiet amusement. "help," he echoed smoothly, voice dripping with subtle skepticism, yet somehow alluring in its challenge. "an interesting way to describe bringing raw meat to caged predators."

myah glanced at him, forcing herself not to react outwardly, though his words did send a small spike of anxiety through her chest. she knew there was truth in his statement, but she refused to let him control the moment. she held her composure steady, lifting her chin slightly.

"would you prefer vegetables instead?" she asked lightly, refusing to be baited further. "because i'm not sure rabbits were on the menu."

another soft laugh drifted from near the stairs again. the curly headed hybrid grinning wider now, openly amused by her retort. "see?" he murmured teasingly, eyes glinting with clear interest. "i knew she had claws."

the silver-haired hybrid, sensing the subtle tension rising again, spoke gently, quietly soothing the room once more. his voice was careful, gentle, subtly pleading for calm. "we're grateful for anything you can do," he assured her softly, hazel eyes earnest. "we just want freedom from this."

the quiet sincerity in his voice tugged deeply at her chest, melting some of the tension still clinging to her shoulders. despite everything, she felt drawn to trust him above all the others, instinctively believing the gentle sincerity he offered.

"i’m trying," she promised softly, sincerity clear in her tone. "i won't leave you stuck here."

silence briefly settled between them, and myah felt the weight of their collective stares again, heavier than before, each hybrid watching her carefully, some with amusement, some curiosity, others quiet calculation.

finally, she stepped back slightly, glancing around the basement thoughtfully, determination steadying her again despite the lingering uncertainty inside her chest. "alright," she said firmly, gaze flickering back to the silver-haired hybrid, quietly finding reassurance in his gentle, hopeful expression. "let's see if i can figure out how to get you out."

a charged silence followed her words, the air in the basement feeling suddenly heavy with cautious hope. myah drew in a slow breath, steadying herself as she glanced around again at the cages, searching for anything she might've missed before.

"do any of you remember how you got out last time?" she asked carefully, keeping her voice calm and gentle as she moved closer to the nearest cage, the one containing the lion. she kept her movements deliberate, careful not to startle or upset them.

he regarded her with quiet authority, eyes steady and watchful. after a brief moment, he shook his head slightly, the thick waves of his golden hair shifting softly against his shoulders.

"we've never been out of these cages," he replied evenly, his deep voice resonating softly in the quiet basement, laced with subtle yet firm certainty. "at least, not since we were put in them."

myah’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, her heart giving a sharp, anxious twist. that didn't make sense. something wasn't adding up. "but, someone got out," she murmured, mostly to herself, recalling the reports of a hybrid attack, the police statements. her grandparents' fate. she swallowed hard, pushing down the sharp sting of grief. there was no time for that now.

the dark-haired hybrid with the intense amber eyes watched her closely, clearly noting her distress. his voice was soft, velvet-smooth, edged with quiet menace.

"perhaps someone’s not telling you the whole truth," he suggested quietly, his amber gaze narrowed and thoughtful, subtly unsettling in its quiet intensity.

she glanced sharply at him, feeling another small flicker of unease.

was he implying something about her grandparents?

about someone else entirely? she forced herself to shake the thought away, not ready to entertain those suspicions yet. not until she had more answers.

determined, she carefully checked the locks and hinges, examining each door for weakness. her fingers brushed against cold, rusted metal; the surfaces worn but still frustratingly secure. each latch held firm beneath her attempts. frustration began to gnaw at the edges of her composure, her pulse quickening anxiously with every fruitless test.

the curly headed hybrid leaning lazily against his bars tracked her with slow, interested eyes. his posture was relaxed, lounging like a cat sunbathing, but there was a flicker of something sharper beneath it.

something watchful.

"you seem pretty determined," he drawled, his voice light with amusement, but the glint in his eyes wasn’t playful. "but i doubt you’ll get these open by hand. believe me, we’ve tried."

myah let out a quiet breath, running a hand through her hair, trying to mask the growing tension pressing in behind her ribs.

"there has to be another way," she muttered, stepping back to scan the room again. "they can’t have just locked you down here without some kind of system."

"oh, there’s a system," came a voice from the farthest cage, low and smooth like velvet over blades. "you’re just not the one they built it for."

she turned sharply. the one in the shadows hadn’t moved much, but his golden eyes glinted in the dim light, watching her with quiet calculation.

like he was waiting for this moment.

"what does that mean?" she asked slowly. "how did the eighth hybrid get out?"

a beat of silence.

the silver-haired one shifted where he sat, his eyes suddenly distant. he didn’t speak.

the one lounging by the stairs stilled too, his expression folding in just slightly, the casual edge softening into something unreadable.

"there was no eighth predator," the black-haired hybrid said finally. deliberate. calm. like it was a truth he’d held in his teeth too long. "that cage wasn’t for one of us."

myah stared at him. "then who was it for?"

"prey," another voice answered, quieter, softer from the left side of the room. "they kept them there overnight. until they were…taken."

"they never returned," said the deep voice in front of her, steady but heavy. "not ever."

her breath caught.

"you mean prey hybrids? like rabbits? deer?"

"among others," the dark headed hybrid said smoothly. he shifted just slightly in his cage, his golden eyes never leaving hers. "kept in that cage. fattened. frightened. sometimes sedated if they cried too much. usually just…quiet. they knew what was coming."

myah shook her head. no, that didn’t make sense. it didn’t fit. "but no. my grandfather didn’t do that. he,” she paused, sucking in a breath, “he hunted, yeah, but he wasn’t like that. he believed in clean kills, in ethical tags and permits and—"

"you think he was dragging whitetail out of the forest?" the hybrid tilted his head slightly, amusement curling at the corner of his mouth. it wasn’t a smile. it was a warning. "those went extinct in this region before you could even walk."

her stomach dropped.

"there’s no wildlife left out there," the one with the golden hair said, his voice calm but edged. "you’d be lucky to find a squirrel. the ecosystems are gone. wiped out. pollution, over-harvesting, fires—take your pick. all the original prey species are either dead, relocated, or too protected to touch."

"but he had meat," she whispered as she slid to the ground. "the freezer, there was venison, rabbit, he said he hunted in the northern woodlands—"

"hybrids are the only remaining source," the hybrid’s voice quiet now. almost gentle. "the gene carriers. you want deer meat, you need a deer hybrid. they harvest from us. still do. just not out in the open."

her blood went cold.

"you’re lying," she said. but it came out wrong. weak. like she was asking.

the one sitting near the stairs scoffed, his eyes gleaming. "do we look like the liars in this story?"

she turned toward the table, staring at the empty meat packages, the ones she’d pulled out of the freezer herself. her stomach twisted violently. she’d brought that meat down here like a gift. like an offering.

"no," she whispered, voice cracking. "he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t feed people—"

"who said it was for people?" the black haired hybrid murmured, almost too low to hear. "some of it, sure. the best cuts went to buyers. the rest? maybe to the staff. maybe into his own freezer. maybe right back down here to us, to see what we'd do."

her hands curled into fists. the nausea burned in her throat.

she looked at the cage again. that cage, noticed its smaller size, the lack of locks to hold it shut. it had never been meant to hold someone like them.

it had been a pen. a prep table.

livestock containment.

"i didn’t know," she said. her voice shook. "i didn’t know any of this."

"you do now.”

the words weren’t cruel. they weren’t sharp or cutting.

they were just…

final.

and somehow that made it worse.

myah stood there, frozen, the truth settling around her like dust after a collapse. heavy. choking. inescapable. she could still feel the cold metal of the cage beneath her fingertips, the weight of the meat she had carried down, the flicker of pride she’d felt for thinking ahead. thinking she was helping.

but that meat had come from someone.

someone who had slept in that cage. breathed in this basement. cried out in the dark and gotten no answer.

someone who had never left.

and her grandfather had known.

not just known, he had organized it. built it. maintained it. made it look normal. made it look ethical.

and she’d never questioned it. not once.

"i grew up in that house," she murmured, not to any of them, not even to herself, but to the ghost of something that had once felt solid inside her. "i used to sit on the porch with him while he cleaned his arrows. i used to help him label the cuts. i thought…"

her voice broke. she blinked hard.

"you didn’t put us here," a voice said quietly.

she looked up.

he was sitting near the front of his cage now, close enough to reach the bars, close enough that she could see the way his pale lashes caught the light.

the silver haired one.

his fingers were loose around the rusted metal, not clutching, just resting. like he’d been waiting. like he wasn’t in a cage at all. just keeping her company.

"but you came back." his voice was soft, careful, like he knew her heart was still in pieces. like he didn’t want to step on the shards. "that has to mean something. doesn’t it?"

myah blinked at him.

there was no accusation in his face. no push. just that unbearable calm, that gentle gravity he carried, like he was built to be safe, even in a place like this.

and that was the problem, wasn’t it?

he made her want to believe in something again.

she stood slowly, brushing her palms off on her jeans. her legs ached, but she kept her gaze on him, watching him watch her.

he tilted his head, just slightly.

and smiled.

not wide. not teasing. just this soft little thing that tugged at her ribs.

“you have a name?” he asked, voice low and warm, like it didn’t matter if she answered or not, he’d remember the way she looked when she did.

“myah,” she said, after a moment. “it’s myah.”

his smile deepened, just a breath.

like he was tasting it.

like he already knew it would ruin him.

“myah,” he repeated, slow and deliberate, like it was a word worth savoring. “that’s a beautiful name.”

her stomach did something embarrassing.

something fluttery.

and then he leaned forward, just a little, just enough for the light to catch on the golden flecks in his eyes, and said, softer, almost conspiratorial, “you can call me jimin.”

like it was a secret. like it was just for her.

she stared at him for a beat too long, her lips parting slightly, caught between suspicion and the stupid, impossible urge to smile back.

“thank you jimin,” she said finally, voice quieter than she meant it to be.

“anytime,” he murmured, leaning dangerously close, like the rusted bars weren’t even there.

"excuse me, sweetheart," a voice drawled from somewhere off to her right. "but some of us would like to eat."

her head snapped toward the sound, heat crawling up her neck like she’d just been caught doing something she hadn’t meant to.

the one who’d spoken leaned lazily against the bars, grinning like he’d been watching the whole thing and was thoroughly entertained.

her stomach twisted. because the grin didn’t reach his eyes. and his gaze, sharp and golden, wasn’t just amused.

it was hungry.

she looked back at the table.

the meat was still sitting there, thawed now. bleeding slowly through its plastic.

but when she turned her gaze back to the hybrid watching her, there was something in his expression that made her feel like that wasn’t the dinner he meant.

she swallowed.

hard.

and the room suddenly felt just a little too warm.

a little too quiet. like the real hunger in here had nothing to do with the meat behind her.

authors note: hey... um i am so sorry about how long this took me to get out. idk why this story is so difficult for me to like what i write, but i hope you guys enjoyed it !! finals are coming up soon so it might be a sec for the next part but then it should be good. also i think every member has been mentioned now (two have been quiet in scenes with myah but i wont say who for rn) , but take your guesses as two whos what hybrid (i'm planning on making like a post just about whos what i'll link it here when i do!) thank you guys all for the support, ik this chapter was kinda boring, but i wanted to set up some relationship dynamics, idk if its just me but i personally hate when a story introduces characters but then leaves them super one dimensional so i used this chapter to kinda flesh out chae-eun as well as start exploring some of the grandparents backgrounds. thank you guys once again i hope you enjoyed it !!

taglist: @moonxxlover @sassy-snassy @kameko-ko @jnghs @captainhoook @yoonjoongles @canarystwin @sathom013 @gracefulsakura98 @jungshaking @haileyisboring @pookieb99 @starlight-1010 @svnbangtansworld @ihatesnakeu7 @dachshunddame @iyeeeverydee @multifandomfreakster-blog @peachmarien @dawnzephyr @ukndtwme @steddie-steddie @plainoldalexis @vantelover07 @justasadb1tch @seomta @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @mar-lo-pap @chroniclesofbts @borahaetelevision @charlielecrayongris @minjianhyung @wannaghostbts @therealjaken @kpopdreamer95 @selfishlittlebeing @official-angi @calmyourtitts7 @wonder-and-wildflowers @cosmotannie @flowinj @riu @euphoricduck @sketchy-racoon @shadequeen712

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melancholy-of-nadia · 10 months ago

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infatuation (m) | myg

title: infatuation pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; agust d universe (AgustDverse based in Haegeum) ; gang leader / mafia AU summary: Living with fragmented and blurry memories has lead you to live under the roof of Bangkok's biggest secret crime boss, Agust D, as his bodyguard. Though, being confined to the mansion most of the time has made you feel isolated, craving freedom and answers. When he decides to take you out to dinner for the first time, the atmosphere is charged with tension and suspicion. You're not the only one who's patience is wearing thin, however, instead, it's discovering this man's infatuation with you that will lead you to change your mind. warnings: weapon mention (katana), reader has minor amnesia, back and forth arguing, murder mention, deep fish imagery/analogy, haegeum!suga mention, dominant haegeum! agust d, making out, penthouse s*x, f*ngering, cl*t stimulation, orgasm denial, choking, power imbalance, bl*w job, bre*st play, spiting, deep throating, pet names, agust d praises you by calling you "good girl", unprotected s*x, lowkey breeding k*nk, choking, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, uh i think that's it!... yandere? haegeum!agust d maybe note: it's been a year since i uploaded my first fic in this universe i call the AgustDverse. Also the first fic that got me into writing bts fics! I've been requested to continue this universe by my dear friend @daegudrama. I don't know if it'll ever become an actual cohesive series, but if you guys like it, let me know! also this is veerrrryyyyy much unedited im sorry i will edit later word count: 6.0k drop date: August 6th, 2024 7:30pm PST mood playlist | ao3 link – –

You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—nestled within the mansion walls of a mafia boss masquerading as a police detective.

Known as Agust D.

How did you get here? It's a question that continuously echoes through your mind like a constant drumbeat.

It’s not an easy question to answer. It’s actually pretty complicated. Time travel? A quantum jump? You don’t know whatever scientific phenomenon this is.

But for your own sanity, you decided not to dwell too much on it, especially when the present demands your full attention.

Agust has let you live here under the guise of acting as his bodyguard, which is perhaps the strangest thing you've ever done. You had no prior guarding experience, but the katana sword that hangs by your side now tells otherwise. This item is a constant reminder of your supposed purpose here: to protect the mansion, to protect Agust D. But deep down, you know there's more to this arrangement than meets the eye.

Tonight, however, is different. Agust D, the enigmatic master of this mansion, has extended an invitation—an invitation to dine at an upscale Chinese restaurant. It's a rare opportunity to step beyond the confines of these walls, to breathe in the outside world, if only for a fleeting moment.

As you stand before the full-length mirror in your room, you can't help but feel a surge of apprehension. The maids have stated that Agust D insisted you wear a black satin dress he selected for the occasion—a garment that feels foreign against your skin, yet somehow fitting for the night. You’re too used to wearing a collared white button-up and a plaid skirt for most of the time while you’re at the mansion. You don’t know how long you’d been wearing that, but definitely longer than a young girl who’s in prep school.

Adjusting the delicate fabric, you take in your reflection, the unfamiliarity of the attire almost unnerving.

A knock at the door interrupts your contemplation, and without waiting for a response, Agust D enters, his presence commanding the room. Dressed in a tailored black suit that exudes power and authority, he regards you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You look stunning," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. "Are you ready to go?"

With a half nod, you follow him down the stairs and out of the mansion, the cool night air wrapping around you like a shroud of secrecy. Then you hop into the black sports car, which Yoongi decides to drive this time instead of his chauffeur.

The journey to the restaurant is silent, punctuated only by the quiet sounds of the piano music playing, which came from connecting Agust D’s phone to the car’s aux.

He really does love Ryuichi Sakamoto’s music, you comment internally to yourself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, you're met with the grandeur of an upscale Chinese eatery perched on the top floor of a hotel building. The space is a harmonious blend of modern elegance and traditional opulence. As you step inside, the ambient chatter of elite people and the soft clinking of cutlery fill the air, creating a lively yet refined atmosphere that contrasts sharply with the muted silence of the mansion.

The restaurant’s interior is a feast for the senses. Rich, dark wood paneling lines the walls, accented by gold and red details that evoke a sense of luxury. Elegant lanterns hang from the ceiling, their warm, golden light casting a gentle glow across the room. The tables are adorned with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and delicate porcelain dishes, each piece carefully chosen to complement the sophisticated ambiance.

The scent of Chinese cuisine mingles with the faint aroma of incense, creating an inviting and tantalizing atmosphere. The restaurant's design features intricate latticework and traditional Chinese artwork, adding a touch of cultural authenticity to the modern setting. Plush, comfortable chairs surround each table, offering a sense of intimacy and relaxation.

As the restaurant host takes note of Agust D standing beside you, there’s a brief moment of panic in his eyes. He quickly ushers you both to a secluded corner of the establishment, a private nook separated from the rest of the dining area by elegant silk drapes. This area, though separated, still enjoys a view of the city skyline through large, floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a breathtaking panorama of the illuminated city below.

You are seated across from Agust, but there’s still a subtle awkward atmosphere surrounding the both of you when he orders and after the food arrives.

For a moment, the clinking of silverware against porcelain fills the silence before Agust D finally speaks.

"Do you still not remember anything?"

You hesitate, uncertainty flickering in the depths of your eyes about how to respond to him. "Bits and pieces," you admit, your gaze lingering on the dimly lit surroundings. "But nothing concrete. It's like trying to grasp at shadows."

His expression remains impassive, but you catch a fleeting glimpse of something else—something akin to regret, perhaps, or even longing. "It will come back to you," he says, his tone softer than before. "With time."

You only nod, going back to eating one of the xiaolongbao at the center of the table.

The air between you and Agust D grows heavier once again with unspoken words. You don’t like the silence. As someone who is very self-aware of their self, you feel compelled to break the silence to not be stuck in your head.

"Agust D," you begin tentatively, the name feeling foreign on your tongue yet strangely familiar. You don’t refer to him by name often, as you opt for ‘sir’ or the occasional ‘Hyungnim’. "Why did you bring me here tonight? You never do this sort of thing…"

He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you've been cooped up in that mansion for so long," he replies cryptically, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. “Thought it would be good to treat you for your work.”

"But why now?" you press, unable to suppress the curiosity gnawing at your insides. "And wearing this?" You refer to the short piece of black fabric covering you.

Agust D's lips quirk up in a wry smile, though there's no warmth in it. "Maybe I wanted to see how you'd be like out… not on duty," he muses, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or perhaps I simply wanted company for the evening."

Company, huh? From the outside, it looks like you’re on a date. You wouldn’t doubt the restaurant staff is already gossiping from behind the curtains partitioning you from the rest of the world.

You can't help but feel a sense of unease at his words, a nagging suspicion that there's more to his motives than meets the eye. "Is that really all?" you press, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

For a moment, Agust D's mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "There's always more to say," he murmurs, his gaze turning distant as if lost in memories you can't access. "But some things are better left unsaid."

What does he even mean by that? You feel like every time you speak even a bit casually to this man, you only end up more confused and maybe even a bit more scared.

"Agust D," you venture cautiously, "...are you still looking for Suga?"

At the mention of the name, a shadow passes over Agust D's features, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve. "Suga," he repeats, the name dripping with bitterness and contempt. "Of course I’m looking for him. That man is nothing but trouble. I need to get rid of him."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man whose name hangs between you like a specter, a reminder of the past you can't quite grasp. "But why? Why do you hate him so much?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agust D's eyes darken with a mix of anger and regret, a storm raging beneath the surface. "He’s got my face and that in itself is a danger to all of us," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "He could also be the answer to everything I've lost, but it’s better if that answer is never revealed."

The words hang heavy in the air from a confession laden with pain. And as you gaze into the depths of Agust D's eyes, you realize that beneath the cold exterior lies a man haunted by his past—a man who, like you, is searching for answers, but afraid to confront them. You want to pry into what he means, but you’re scared that he may act aggressively. So instead you change the topic.

"Don’t you know his whereabouts though?" you inquire softly, your voice laced with concern.

Agust D's gaze meets yours. "I do," he confirms, his voice low and measured. "He’s in Chinatown. Living in an apartment at the end of Weng Nakorn Kasem. But I can’t act on impulse. I’m too heavily involved in the Asia Pacific Police Union, and that already involves too many variables, too many unknowns."

A sense of foreboding settles over you as you listen to his words, the weight of his burdens pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "What do you mean?" you press, your voice barely a whisper.

Agust D sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I can't move against him yet," he admits, his tone laced with resignation. "Not until I know how many people are on my side. There are spies within the organization. If I act too quickly, I could end up getting myself killed…"

The gravity of his words hangs heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the fragile truce that exists between you. And yet, despite the dangers that lurk in the darkness, you can't help but feel a flicker of hope. If you help him in capturing Suga, then maybe you’ll be able to piece your own puzzle together.

But would that even be a good idea?

"Agust D," you say softly, smiling gently at him, "you know you don't have to face this alone. Whatever happens, I'll stand by your side. Not like I have much of a choice anyway." Your words trail off at the end. He doesn’t comment on it though.

For a moment, there's a vulnerability in Agust D's gaze, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the mask. He reaches out to take your hand, his expression softening ever so slightly at your words. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice a whisper in the dimly lit restaurant.

“It’s my job after all.”

––––––

After finishing dinner, the two of you begin to walk out of the restaurant, entering a long hallway that leads to large red sliding doors that exit. Your eyes drift toward the grand wall aquarium positioned near the exit, its towering glass panels reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lights.

The aquarium is a masterpiece of design, housing a diverse array of aquatic life within its transparent confines. Colorful coral reefs sway gently in the water, their vibrant hues casting mesmerizing patterns of light and shadow across the sandy substrate below.

But amidst the bustling underwater ecosystem, your gaze fixates on a lone goldfish, its sleek form gliding gracefully through the water. Its vibrant orange scales shimmer in the ambient light, a stark contrast to the subdued colors of its surroundings.

A pang of concern tugs at your heart as you watch the solitary fish navigate its artificial habitat. Don't goldfish typically reside in tranquil ponds, surrounded by the soothing sounds of nature? Is it even safe for them to be confined within the confines of this glass enclosure?

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Agust D's departure until you feel a gentle tug on your arm. Startled, you turn to find him regarding you with a curious expression, his gaze flickering between you and the aquarium.

"What's on your mind?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing display before you, your thoughts still lingering on the lone koi fish. "I was just...thinking about that fish," you admit, gesturing toward the aquarium.

“The goldfish?”

“Mhm,” As you stand there, watching the solitary koi fish swim about, a wistful sigh escapes your lips. "I wish I were a fish sometimes," you murmur.

As funny as your sentence sounds, you thought the older man would laugh at you for making a comment like that. However, Agust D's gaze flickers at you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Why's that?" he asks, his voice soft with intrigue.

You pause, contemplating your answer as you watch the graceful movements of the fish. "Uh, well they seem so free," you explain, your voice tinged with longing. “They get to go wherever they want. move through life with such ease in the water, not burdened by the weight of the world.”

As you continue to watch the fish, a sense of yearning wells up within you—a desire to shed the constraints of your human existence. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "I wish I could trade places with that fish just so I could be able to live freely, to live without my own burdens."

Agust D nods in understanding, a silent reassurance amid your musings. "But you know, even fish have their own struggles. I mean, look at it, it’s trapped in this Chinese restaurant’s aquarium as entertainment for guests, fighting to survive in a place it doesn’t belong,”

Sigh.

He’s right. But you hate the fact that he’s right.

“That still doesn’t change what I said. Plus, I don't want to be that fish.” you interject, your voice laced with a hint of sadness. "Slowly destroyed by its surroundings… not belonging there."

Agust D's brow furrows in contemplation, his gaze returning to the small goldfish. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to feel like that," you admit. "Trapped in a world that doesn't feel like home, constantly struggling to find where I belong!"

And you hate it because that is exactly how you’ve been feeling right now. You’re living with a man several years older than you, who is probably the most dangerous man in Thailand, maybe even all of Asia. And you have no idea why you stuck here with him, but where could you really go? Where are you actually from? Where is home?

Agust D's expression hardens slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Life isn't always about feeling at home," he counters. "Sometimes it's about surviving where you are and making the best of it."

No! He doesn’t get it.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his words, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. "That's easy for you to say," you retort, tone sharp. "You're not the one who's been confined to that mansion, to these guarding duties, waiting for memories to come back."

His eyes narrow slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in them. "You think I don't have my own battles?" he snaps back. "I'm out there every day, dealing with threats you can't even imagine."

"At least you have control over these things. You have the entirety of this city wrapped around your finger," you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "At least you know who you are and what you're fighting for!”

The tension between you two shifts. Agust D steps closer, his presence looming, but you refuse to back down, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

Inside, you're a storm of emotions—anger, confusion, and a touch of desperation. How can he be so dense and unreadable, yet so annoyingly calm? It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Every word you say seems to bounce off him while his expression remaining infuriatingly stoic. You want to scream, to make him understand just how much this is tearing you apart, but he stands there, unmoved, as if your turmoil is nothing more than a slight breeze in his world.

“Agust, you–”

"Fuck…you're so hot when you're upset, doll," he murmurs, interrupting you with a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. Before you can react, he grabs your arm, pulling you toward the exit.

Huh?

"Hey!" you protest, your frustration mingling with a surge of adrenaline. But Agust D doesn't relent, his grip firm as he guides you out of the restaurant and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors slide shut, sealing you both inside the confined space, the tension between you reaches a boiling point. "What are you doing?" you demand, your voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Instead of answering, Agust D pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with a fierce intensity. Your initial resistance melts away as the kiss deepens, the heat between you igniting into a blazing inferno powered by unknown frustrations beneath the surface.

You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you glare at him. "You can't just—" you start, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

"I can and I will," he murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. "Because right now, all I can think about is you."

Your frustration mingles with a heady mix of desire, the lines between anger and passion blurring as you give in to the moment. As the elevator ascends, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you.

When the elevator dings softly, signaling its arrival on your floor, you find yourselves in a private hallway in the hotel building, the opulent surroundings a stark contrast to the intensity of your kiss. Agust D pulls back, his eyes dark with desire and determination.

"We're not done talking," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a thrill through you. "But right now, I need you."

Your eyes are left wide open, feeling hormones coursing through you.

This can’t be happening. Is this all a dream? Yes, this has to be. And what’s with the scenario? Are you that sexually frustrated? You admit you’ve never done this sort of thing and have only spent your free time reading erotica for entertainment.

But to dream about fucking the very man keeping you captive within his mansion and living as a bodyguard. There has got to be something wrong with you. Maybe you’re experiencing Stockholm syndrome? But you’ve not once felt emotionally attached to this man.

Though there have been times you’ve looked at him and thought about how beautiful he looked.

Shit.

Maybe you’ll go along with this. Everything else be damned, for now.

“Show me then,” You word out, which only fires him up more.

Agust D’s grip on your arm is firm but not painful as he leads you down the luxurious hallway to a penthouse suite, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. Your thoughts are a chaotic jumble, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming at you to stop and the primal part urging you to give in.

As soon as the door to a suite clicks shut behind you, he’s on you again, pushed against a wall, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. You respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Every touch, every kiss feels electric, igniting a fire within you that you didn’t know existed.

In the back of your mind, you know this is wrong. You know you should be resisting, should be fighting against the pull he has on you. But right now, in this moment, all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your skin, the way his lips move against yours, the way his presence consumes you.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, showcasing his possessive nature. “I refuse to let you go.”

His hands start to inch up under your dress until he reaches your core and starts flicking at your clit. You gasp, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. He watches your reaction with a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, his voice low and teasing. “To feel me, to know that you’re mine?”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can do is nod, your body arching toward his touch, craving more.

“Good,” he says, his fingers moving with a deft precision that has you teetering on the edge. “Because I’m not stopping until you know that you belong to me.”

He continues his ministrations, his touch driving you wild with need. The logical part of your brain has long since surrendered, leaving only the raw, primal desire that burns within you.

His fingers slide below your black lace underwear until he inserts them inside you with a sly grin. You can't help but moan at the invasion, your body trembling with anticipation. He moves them in and out, hitting just the right spot, causing you to writhe beneath him.

"This is what you get," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "For. every. time. you. talked. back. to. me. today." He growls, punctuating every word with a thrust inside your pussy.

“F-Fuck A-Agust!” And holy shit does it feel so good.

As lust starts to fog your mind and the air fills with moans, you don't know what's happening to you. But you don't care. The fire inside you is burning brighter by the second, and you can't get enough of the man who's taken control of your body and mind at this moment

Yoongi places his thumb on your nub and plays with it, squishing it in circular motions, then using his finger to rub it a little faster then slowing down only to fasten the pace again. You felt a very familiar feeling boiling up in your lower belly threatening to unleash itself.

“I’m not gonna let you reach your high yet.”

Suddenly, he removes all his fingers from you and you whimper immediately, the absence of his touch leaving you desperate for more.

Yoongi bites down against his lips, eyes quickly traveling from your face and down your body, “Huh…W-Wait..P-Please…” You pant heavily, trying to rub your thighs together to pick back up the pace that was headed toward your release

“I thought you wanted to leave me, doll?” He leans in closer, chuckling in your face, and you shake your head. At this moment, you realize that he’s hard under his dress pants. “Are you sure? I don’t give orgasms to people that won’t obey me.”

“I-I’ll prove it to you!” You drop to your knees quickly, placing your hands on both of his sides. “Oh? And how will you do that?” He gives you a curious look, already knowing what to expect from your sudden submissive behavior. While he spoke, you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling it down along with his boxers to reveal his cock.

“Oh fuck…” You let out in the smallest whisper. He wasn’t long per se, but more than average. But the girth… holy shit. Will it even fit in any of your holes? And the way his precum is already pearling on his tip just from what you two did earlier? You swallow nervously, but you’re not one to back away from a challenge. “Like this.”

You hold his cock gently from the base, proceeding to gather spit from your mouth and letting it drop on it. You proceed to move your hand, spreading his precum and your saliva on his dick, managing to get a good slide and starting to move your hand quicker. You looked up innocently, already noticing a flicker of Agust’s facade fade as he felt himself slipping away in pleasure. In his mind, he was tempted to say fuck it all and let himself fuck against your hand, but he knew better than just to let himself become an animal. After the prep, you part your mouth and slowly take him in, the stretch already starting to hurt your jaw from his wide size. In the meantime, you just suck around his head and use your hand to deliver pleasure to the rest of his shaft, earning deep-sounding curses and moans while your tongue swirled around him.

His eyes are glued to you, watching you work his cock with your kitten-like licks. Though, this isn’t enough for him. He wants to thrust up down your throat so bad and fuck you until your voice was sore. He wants to see how much you’re willing to take in that small mouth of yours.

And that’s exactly what he does. He places his hand on your head, giving you small pats and rubs disguised as encouragement for your efforts. Then his hand starts inching towards the back of your head until he suddenly grabs a handful of your hair and forcibly pushes his dick further until your smacked against his pelvis.

“Seems like you still need practice. Don’t worry, I’ll train you,” he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag reflexively, but he doesn't let up, pushing deeper with each thrust. Your eyes start to water, now holding onto his sides for dear life, but you force yourself to take it, willing your throat to open up and accommodate his girth. His palm comes up to your cheek to rub your cheek, feeling himself on the other side enter in and out of you.

He grunts with each deep thrust, his hips pistoning in and out of your mouth as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm. You feel like you're choking, but you don't want to disappoint him and prevent you from reaching your orgasm after. However, it doesn’t take long for him to come undone, swallowing saliva and cum down your throat. He removes himself and you begin to cough erratically. You have never deep-throated before, so it’s a miracle you didn’t throw up or die from this. It’s definitely not as easy as porn makes it seem. You’ve been lied to by the media! “Haah… Holy shit…” You groan, trying to catch your breath and stabilize your heart rate.

“You alright?” He questions, voice tinged with slight worry as he fixes his pants and underwear back up and leans down towards your face. “I lost myself for a bit…”

“It’s okay–” You pause, shocked for a moment to hear your voice sound hoarse. Despite that, Agust chuckles, using his palm once again to rub against your cheek to comfort you, smiling softly. “Good girl. Now you’ll get your reward.” With this, he guides you to the master bedroom, his grip on your arms firm yet careful, leading you through the opulent suite. The room is a testament to luxury, with rich, dark wood furniture that you knew Agust requested in the hotels he invests in and soft, ambient lighting that casts a warm glow over everything. The large windows offer a stunning view of the Bangkok city skyline, but your focus is solely on him.

He pushes you gently onto the king-sized bed, the plush mattress sinking beneath your weight. The silk sheets feel cool against your skin, starkly contrasting the heat building between you. Agust D stands over you, his eyes dark with desire, a predator savoring his prey.

He slowly removes his jacket, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, your breath hitching as he unbuttons his suit vest, followed by his shirt, revealing his semi-muscular and beefy figure beneath. You’ve never seen him like this before, as he’s a very reserved man when it comes to his body. But each inch of exposed skin sends a fresh wave of anticipation through you.

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Now, let me take care of you.”

He climbs onto the bed, sitting between your legs where his hands start trailing up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. His touch is electrifying, each caress igniting a fire in your core. He leans down, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of burning kisses from your collarbone to your ear.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need.

“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to get enough of you.”

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, and driving you to the brink of madness. He slips the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away completely, leaving your body exposed and vulnerable beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, a dark hunger in his gaze.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “My doll.”

He lowers himself, his mouth finding your breast, sucking and nibbling until you’re arching into him, your fingers tangled in his slick black hair. He trails kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself between your legs.

You gasp as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “Ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper.

“Mm..” You only make a sound and nod due to the lust clouding your mind. How do you say words? Do words matter?

He pinches your clit slightly which makes you jump and arc your body a little.

“Words, doll.”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to finally speak out, your body wiggling around close to his face eager for him to move.

He doesn’t hesitate after your verbal consent, his tongue flicking out to taste you from your clit down to your entrance, drawing a cry of pleasure from your lips. He works you expertly, starting with his tongue sucking against your clit, then eating you out in your entrance.

And holy fuck does he have you wrapped around his finger with these ministrations. You had heard rumors of him being good at oral sex from the women at the events you would accompany him to, but fuck, the actual thing doesn’t compare to their mere descriptions.

His tongue soon returns to nibble and suck at your aching bud, with his fingers replacing his place inside you. And before you know it, you’re lost in the sensation again, body jerking as every nerve ending is set aflame as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

And Agust D knows it, smirking against your pussy as he feels you tighten against his fingers. “Come for me,” he growls against your skin, his voice a command that you can’t resist.

With a final, shuddering gasp, you fall apart, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. He holds you through it, his hands and mouth coaxing every last bit of ecstasy from your body until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watches you recover. “Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride. “But we’re not done.”

He stands up and swiftly pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock, red and eager. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your mind racing.

Oh? Is he going to put it in?!

“Huh? W-Wait you–”

Before you can finish speaking, he puts your legs on his shoulder and aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes locking with yours. The heat and intensity of his gaze make your heart race.

“You’re on birth control, correct?”

“Yes…”

You’d be surprised that he knows this fact, but he does look over your medical records after all. You’d also question the ethics of this, but not now.

“Then we can go all out,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “And I’ll show you that you’re truly mine.”

He pushes into you, his cock stretching and filling you completely.

“F-Fuck!” You gasp, the sensation is overwhelming, fueled with pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. He pauses movements for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

Your eyes close as you try to focus on relaxing your body.

“Look at me,” he commands suddenly, his voice low and firm as he holds your chin. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” You meet his gaze, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. There’s a primal hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up with the intensity of his pace. The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming and does not compare to his or your own fingers pleasuring you.

“Do you feel that?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Do you feel how your pussy is being molded by my cock?”

“Y-Yes!” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. “I feel it!”

“Good,” he says, his thrusts becoming faster, more intense. “Because you won’t ever be able to be pleased by another cock as long as I live,”

His movements are relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slap of skin against skin, and the ragged gasps and moans that escape your lips.

As your eyes meet his, he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. His grip is firm but not painful, sending a rush of adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins.

“Doll, you like being choked while I fuck you? Having you wrapped around my fingers now.”

“F-Feels so mmh good!” You mumble, your breath hitching as his grip tightens slightly, the sensation heightening the pleasure coursing through your body.

You never thought you’d be so turned on by choking. You don’t know if it’s you getting high off the lack of oxygen and feeling pleasure, or giving up your life’s control to this man before you that has your toes curling.

The pleasure builds up to an unbearable peak once more, but this time, you know that he is feeling the same thing too. His thrusts become harder, more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body. His hand on your neck adds an edge to the sensation od dominance and possessiveness that leaves you breathless.

“Come for me, doll,” he growls, his voice a command that you can’t ignore. “I want to feel you come around me as I do at the same time.”

With a final, shuddering cry, your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing in pleasure. He follows you soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills into you, his own release mingling with yours. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless, clinging to each other as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looks down at you with a smile that exposes his gums. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a tender, possessive kiss.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, the words a promise and a declaration.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “I’ll never let you leave.”

At that moment, as you lie there in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you don’t want him to. The world outside may be complicated and uncertain, but here, with him, everything feels right.

This is your home.

All you want is for this man to be infatuated with you for the rest of your life.

This is how things should be. Right?

–

– tbc?

✨ let me know ur thoughts! how are you feeling?! ✉️

#AGUSTDVERSE #Prequel #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts reactions #bts reader insert #haegeum #agust d #THE WORLD IS BACK!

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perfectlyoongi · 1 year ago

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WALTZ OF POSSIBILITY

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... getting ready for your best friend's wedding brought up a possibility that could last an eternal life.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... yoongi x gn!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... fluff, established relationship. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 1k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... my 1st kpop work in years lol starting new & trying to get out of this writing slump !! i hope u like it ♡ eng is not my 1st language xx

In the comfort of your room, music played gently.

The sun shone brightly, warming the room through the window, painting the walls a hopeful gold. Between the rhythmic ballads on the record player and the chirping of birds that beat against your window, your room was enveloped in a cloud of soft comfort, which left you calm, which left you relaxed.

You and Yoongi were sitting on the bed back to back. Your hands were fixing your blue shirt, while you heard your boyfriend struggling with a simple tie knot. There was silence between you, but there was no embarrassment at all, for in the stillness of your relationship, you found each other.

“Do you know the groom?”

Yoongi finally stood up, walking to the mirror and focusing his attention on the blue fabric around his neck.

“I’ve only been with him once,” you sighed and pressed another button on your shirt before placing yourself next to Yoongi. “But from what she told me, he’s romantic.”

“Hm.”

Yoongi knew perfectly well what you were doing. Due to his distraction, your boyfriend had forgotten about your last date and he swore, when he arrived home with a bunch of wild flowers and regret in his eyes, he swore he would make it up to you. The most romantic date we've ever had, Yoongi said between kisses when you accepted his apology. But the date was yet to happen and, knowing your boyfriend, you always thought it was funny to tease Yoongi. And he let you tease him, because, quite simply, Yoongi loved you.

“The proposal was beautiful,” you smiled in the mirror when you noticed Yoongi's eyes darting towards your figure and, with a hand on his shoulder, you turned your boyfriend towards you and you held the tie that was driving Yoongi crazy.

“How was it?” Yoongi stretched his neck to give you more freedom of movement and, staring at the white ceiling of your room, he waited for your sweet words to gently cradle his heart.

“They went to the beach. Where they met, you know? It was sunrise, her favorite time of the day. They had just walked all night and just wanted to sit down. But while she sat, he knelt.”

You spoke with pride in your voice – finally, someone who took good care of your best friend.

Yoongi listened to you with passion in his ears – he swore he could listen to you talk for hours.

“Is that what you think is beautiful?”

Yoongi smiled when you finished tying his tie and walked back to the bed, looking at the two coats that were displayed there, trying to figure out which one was best to wear on that occasion.

“Are you going to tell me it’s not beautiful?”

“I think you would think it was cute for someone to propose next to a trash can.”

“If it’s something important to one of them…”

Yoongi laughed and you smiled. Yoongi's laughter continued throughout the room, grabbing the soft music and dancing with it among the sun's rays. You loved that sound.

“So anything is beautiful?”

“Yeah, basically.”

You spoke between small laughs, totally mesmerized by the wide smile that Yoongi wore so perfectly.

“So if I knelt down, here and now…” Yoongi turned his body towards you, starting to lower himself guided by his own words, resting one knee on the floor and looking at you. Bright eyes full of passion, wide smile covered in devotion. “And if I…”

“Yoongi, no!” You laughed in the guise of a scream, running towards Yoongi, holding his hands and looking at him with amusement. “Don’t you dare!”

“I just wanted to prove my point.”

Yoongi smiled when you helped him get up, giving you a small kiss on the cheek and sitting at the foot of the bed. With his hand still locked in yours, he gently pulled you towards him, making you sit on his lap.

You looked at Yoongi, smile on your lips. Your right hand caressed the silky strands of Yoongi's hair, lingering on his face, admiring his natural beauty. And Yoongi looked at you, bright eyes and indestructible smile. His hand held your waist carefully, the other resting on your leg as he made small caresses on it with his slender fingers.

The music continued to play, the sun continued to shine, but at that moment it seemed as if all time had stopped. In your boyfriend's lap, the world ceased to exist.

Being with Yoongi was comforting, something you needed even before you knew it. Yoongi's touch soothed your soul, cleansed your heart of any doubt or fear. Yoongi's look made you feel loved, made your simple existence something important to be celebrated. And Yoongi's words... Yoongi's words took you to the beginning of time, remembering a love so pure, so true, that it was repeated throughout history.

“We have to hurry,” Yoongi spoke gently, the words escaping what his heart really wanted to say. Let's stay here. Let's forget about the wedding. Let's love each other in the comfort of our home. Please! “We will be late.”

“Mhm,” you smiled fondly, your lips drawing a soft curve on your face. You stroked Yoongi's hair, moving the bangs away from his eyes, and gave him a small kiss on the forehead.

But none of you moved.

Still listening to the music that insisted on relaxing your room, you and Yoongi stared at each other, letting the strong emotions that vibrated within your hearts extend to your bright eyes and passionate smiles.

None of you wanted to move.

But it was your best friend's wedding, the day you would see her most beautiful and happy. You couldn't miss it, not that day.

“Just so you know,” you gently placed your hand on Yoongi’s face and brought your foreheads together as you allowed your smile to expand. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

You gave Yoongi a small kiss on the lips and got up to finish getting ready.

And Yoongi remained on the bed looking at you, completely mesmerized by your words, deluded by the possibility that could happen. And Yoongi stood there, smiling as he watched you get ready, keeping secret all the jewelry stores he had contacted looking for the perfect ring for you.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

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pennyellee · 2 years ago

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CHAPTER I - absquatulate

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, graphic violence, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, betrayal, mentions of death

word count: 2,11K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER II

absquatulate (v.) to leave without saying goodbye

October 1938

Her feet ached, the shoes she wore were mercilessly biting into her skin, and the clothes clung uncomfortably to her body. She couldn’t slow down though. Y/N was determined to push herself a little further to cross the borders of Luen’s territory in north side of Korea. She didn't exactly know what would happen next, nor did she care at this point. The vision of freedom kept her sane. Little did she know, fate had a different plan in store for her.

Tears of happiness streamed down her cheeks as she finally found herself beyond the imaginary border. She made it to South part of Korea — the port city Incheon, next, a ferry to Jeju Island. Y/N was moving down the coastline for days, and she feels more than happy to be nearing her final destination.

The moment of joy was short-lived as the sound of barking dogs and distant screams echoed behind her. Wiping her tears quickly, she looked around the area in a rush. A small old building caught her eye, serving as a warehouse of some sort. It was her only option. Casting one last glance behind her, she made a split-second decision and hurried towards the building.

Inside the building, the air was even colder than outside. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm up.

Suddenly, a loud thump reverberated through the air, freezing her in place. Instead of moving away from the source of the sound and seeking safety, an inexplicable force drew her closer. Y/N took small steps closer and closer to the voices that grew louder with each passing second. So far, she had guided her steps wisely. This next step, however, would prove to be a grave mistake. With just a slight twist of events, her fate would be forever altered by one hundred and eighty degrees. If only her curiosity and naivety haven’t gotten the best of her, her path could have been entirely different. Or would it?

One movement, one glance, one flutter of butterfly wings and her fate was sealed. Time stood still as she found herself gazing fearfully into his dark eyes. Y/N hadn't even noticed the red-tinged blood staining his white shirt or the loaded gun clutched tightly in his hand. She simply stared, paralysed by fear. It felt like an eternity to her, but it had only been seconds since she hadn't been careful before tripping over the empty wooden boxes revealing to everyone in the room that there was an uninvited guest.

She could hear the man standing nearby reloading his gun. Snapping out of her daze, she turned and fled, as if she had never stopped running. The cool night air lashed against her face as she sprinted with all her might, making her way towards the harbour. There were no more voices heard behind her. Y/N cautiously looked around, finding no trace of anyone following her, allowing herself to have a flicker of hope.

A shadowy figure appeared from behind a corner, blocking her path. It was one of the soldiers, armed and dangerous. Her heart raced as she searched for a way out. ‘This cannot be,’ she thought. The soldier was quick to close the distance between them, the command was loud and clear. “Bring back alive.”

The poor soul, who had only yearned for freedom, remained oblivious to the fact that her life was not in immediate danger. In the heat of the moment, she collected her courage and pushed the soldier forcefully against the wall with all her might. It took him a moment to collect himself as he had hit his head pretty hard. Y/N did not hesitate though. Her eyes spotted a rock earlier which was now in her possession — brought it up and smashed it against his head. Only after she realised what has just happened. She knew he might be dead and for this very sin, she will have to pay. But there was no time for regrets now. She took off running again.

Had she managed to escape? That remained to be seen. Hungry, thirsty, and chilled to the bone, she stepped onto the small ferry, placing one foot on its creaking board. Y/N paid for the journey with the golden hairpin that held her dark locks together. As the wind danced in her hair and frost began to paint her face, a kind-hearted passenger offered her a blanket, which she gratefully wrapped around herself while she watched the disappearing land, full of lights. In the distance, she thought she caught a glimpse of a figure dressed in black on the pier. Paying little attention to it, she unknowingly continued down a treacherous path.

Not far away, a man leaned against a car whose engine had only recently gone cold, asking.

“Shall we follow her sajangnim?”

“There is no need for that,” the man’s words hung in the air. As if he knew exactly that fate would lead her back to him.

She reached the other shore shortly before dawn. Though hazy memories guided her, she vaguely recalled the path she was meant to take. The last time she was on this island, she was barely fourteen years old. Yet, her feet seemed to instinctively remember the way.

She stood before the gate of a grand mansion, comparable in size to the one she had grown up in. Slowly, she opened it and slipped inside. There were no soldiers to be seen guarding the mansion.‘Strange,’ she thought to herself.

Slowly she walked to the door and grasped the large metal knocker in her hands, rapped it three times. The door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman holding a small boy in her arms.

“Y/N?” the short-haired lady addressed her.

“I know I shouldn't be here, Daiyu, but I have nowhere to go right now,” she said with tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat. Daiyu opened the door more and let her younger cousin in. Placing the little boy in a wooden chair, Daiyu prepared tea, mindful of the chilly temperatures outside.

“What happened Y/N? Does Uncle know you're here?” She asked when she finally sat down next to her. There was a pleasant warmth inside that radiated from the lit fireplace.

“No, no one knows I’m gone” she admitted.

“That's not good at all Y/N, do you want to end up with a bullet in your head?!”

“I’d rather that than take my freedom by marrying that brute”

“You know damn well you won't get it,” she told her younger cousin. She knew what she was going through, but she couldn't help her.

“Auntie told me to come here once—” her voice faded away when she realised the sorrow within her. “—Maybe if Chan-yeol...” She didn't even have time to finish before the sound of a slamming door reverberated through the room, shaking Y/N to her core.

“What in God’s name is she doing here!” The voice echoed, filled with anger and disbelief once he saw her sitting in his kitchen. Y/N turned to face the source of the voice, her cousin's husband towering over her, his eyes blazing with fury. “Chan-yeol...my mother sent her here. She needs help,” Daiyu attempted to explain and pleaded for Y/N’s safety, but Chan-yeol’s response was cold and hostile.

“Our help? Amazing, now they’re going to kill us too!” he bellowed, his face turning a bright shade of red. Treason wasn’t tolerated among the Wang clan. By running away Y/N knew very well that she cannot come back if she doesn’t want to die.

Y/N began to realize the gravity of her situation, but she knew that it was too late. “They won’t kill you, just please get me to the west. I’ll help myself from there, Chan-yeol please,” she pleaded, falling to her knees in front of him. Y/N was not ready to die.

Chan-yeol’s expression softened for a moment, but it quickly turned to one of anger and frustration. “Daiyu, come with me,” he ordered, his voice cold and hard. Daiyu looked at Y/N with a mixture of sympathy and regret before following her husband out of the room. Y/N was left alone, her heart pounding with fear and uncertainty. She knew that her fate was now in the hands of her cousin’s husband, and she could only hope that he would have mercy on her.

Her feet carried her front and back while she was listening to muffled screams and thuds from behind the closed door. Suddenly, everything went silent, and a tearful Daiyu came out of the door. “Don’t worry Y/N, everything will be as it should be,” she said, her words laced with a bittersweet comfort.

Overwhelmed with relief, Y/N believed she would finally be free. Daiyu poured the tea she had set the water on earlier. She smiled at her through her tears and watched her drink it. The poor girl had no idea what was yet to come. Slowly, her eyes closed, and she fell into dreamland as Daiyu sat beside her and cried.

“You knew this will happen sooner or later, Daiyu. We cannot disobey him.” Chan-yeol said as he picked Y/N up in his arms and carried her away from his wife’s sight.

“This was your mother’s wish. Honour it.”

Never in her worst dreams would Daiyu have thought she would sacrifice her blood to protect the clan she despised with the same amount as Y/N.

The crackling of wood in the blazing fireplace brought Y/N back to consciousness. Slowly, she widened her teary eyes and looked around the room, which was unfamiliar to her. Tall windows, obscured by long curtains that prevented her from looking out, darkened the entire room. The only source of light was the blazing fireplace and an oil lamp set on the bedside table. She sat her body down on the bed.

Y/N was no longer clad in her bright red qipao dress, but she was wearing a nightgown that wasn't hers. Nothing in this room belonged to her. She grasped the oil lamp in her hands and, with a small gasp, took her first steps toward the large door on the other side of the room.

Everything was sort of strange, the house looked Korean with some touches of Western furniture. For a moment she thought Chan-yeol had made it, and she was somewhere in a far-off land in a safe house.

She pushed the door open and carefully slipped out. Y/N found herself in a hall that was darker than night. The walls were littered with black and white framed photos and several doors. The petite Chinese woman walked slowly down the hallway, shining her light on the paintings. She didn't recognise most of the people, family portraits from generation to generation, until she came to the last one.

It was him, with his dark eyes and the long scar across, her own filled with fear. The lamp fell from her hands and her feet carried her unknowingly where. She rammed full force into several doors and wandered until she found the exit. Y/N looked around the area in every direction but there was no escape route anywhere. Abruptly, she turned back to face where she came from. She had an uneasy feeling inside her. As if someone was watching her. But she didn’t see anyone anywhere.

It was only the cold drops of rain falling on her shoulders which made her look up, revealing the reason for her inner unease. She saw him standing up there like a king, a God, looking directly into her eyes. His hands rested on the wooden balcony railing, smiling. The smile concealed darkness within. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the ground.

“No more fleeing away, my little dove,” his voice echoed in the air, and a feeling of satisfaction settled across his body.

I N T E R L O G U E

“Everything is going according to the plan, kkangpae. She came here” Said the man, holding the phone to his ear. His wife looking at him with tears.

“I understand,” said Chan-yeol, ending the call, and locking eyes with his wife. “Don’t cry Dayiu, you know this is the best for her.” He sighed.

“That is very easy for you to say, it’s not your life that is about to change.” She collected herself, ready to leave the room. “You managed,” said he.

“But you weren’t the head of syndicate Chan-yeol—” she began. “You know, I made my peace within this marriage, but I’m sure she won’t take it laying down.” Chan-yeol pursed his lips in annoyance.

“I wish I could know my mother’s reasoning for this ordeal, but it’s too late for that.” Said Daiyu, finalising her words and leaving the room at once.

to be continued

author’s note: AAAAAAA! The first chapter is here. This is just a little beginning and I promise that a lot more is going to come and be unveiled ♥ Excuse any ridiculous mistake I made, I just recently got back to writing and it's not beta read. If you want to be added to the taglist, don't be shy and lemme know. Dm's and asks are always open ♥ I'll try to adjust everything and you prolly will get second chapter soonish too.

I'm also not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moocow778 @janura26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @ruhmoojeonjunkook-blog @hi12345567 @nochuel @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest

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boydepartment · 1 year ago

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@ iluvmygf- nishimura riki x fem! reader: ch 6

description: nishimura riki is a headache to his managers. as much as he loves being an idol and as much as he loves that he gets the freedom to travel. he hates that he can’t show you off. publicly… as himself… so he makes a twitter account called @ iluvmygf at first not a lot of people follow it. it goes unnoticed, for a few weeks. until it doesn’t. his account about you goes viral… and people are nosy as to who loves their gf so much to constantly post about her.

genre: romcom, crack, humor, something fun and lighthearted like a hallmark movie. it’s also set from november-february bc i said so and i want a christmas ark 😋🫶 this is an smau

warnings: cursing, most likely crude humor, probably kms jokes

no specific warnings for this chapter

WRITTEN CHAPTER- word count 250-500

you found yourself giggling as you snuck out of your dorms once again for your loser of a boyfriend.

when you hit the cool air you started shivering instantly, only in your pajamas, a hoodie, and your outdoor slippers.

you spotted your boyfriend behind a bush, “loser i can’t let you in, you chose the entrance with the cctv right there.”

“FUCK!” riki yelled and stood up. you started laughing and grabbed his hand, “walk with me then.”

riki nodded and let you guide him around your dorm. he quickly took off his hat and put it on you, “i brought it for you.”

your eyes scowled at him, “this is your favorite one. what boo boo did you commit?”

riki put his hand over his heart, “ouch! baby! already accusing your handsome, fun, hot, lovi-“

“riki!”

“okay okay!” he put his hands up and looked down at you, “the account i made about you-“

“the one where you say how much you loooooove me!” you teased him and he grabbed your face lightly, making your lips pucker.

“yes the account i made where i say how much i looooove you.” he copied your tone of voice.

you started giggling after he gave you a quick peck, “the account is starting to gain traction.” he spoke simply.

you looked at him in fear, “are you in trouble? i don’t want you to get into trouble! do they know it’s you?”

riki looked at you, his heart warming a bit that you cared more about him than silly photos of you gaining traction.

“nono they don’t it’s okay!” he shoved you lightly then caught you when you almost slipped, “jungwon just told me i should tell you.”

“are the staff going to make you delete the account?” you asked, leaning into him.

riki shook his head no, “they don’t know about it.” he giggled, a little evilly.

“riki-“

“what! i’m keeping it up! and i’m still going to post! anyways….” he leaned down to be eye level with you, “so, i am viral… do you still love me?”

you rolled your eyes, “obviously.”

he started laughing and hugged you tightly, “yeah i’m just so cool you have to love me.”

you started laughing again as he swung you around lightly, it didn’t seem as cold with riki even with the snow and ice around you.

___

MASTERLIST

taglist- open

@yourmomscuntis2tighy @yannew @wzy3ka @stellarpsh @czlluvriki @im-yn-suckers @owotalks @filmofhybe @skepvids @ocyeanicc @amymyli @imsodazed @rikislady @j-wyoung @bangchansbangers @sassyfanlawyergarden @miko1ly @itsactuallylina @haewonluvr @entenen @cb97mylove @jxp1-t3r @ineedaherosavemeenow @str4wb3rizz @beomgyusonlywife @jiaant11 @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @enhaz1 @mrchweeee @stryroses @riziwon @cholexc @soobiverse @tzuyusluv @hayleyrkbee @softiehee @captivq @yla-aira @svarcq @s00buwu @rodygr @ikeu4life @faraonatojishady @ohsjy @bts-iris @wqsty @en-gene2 @mrowwww @eumppattv @junsflow @ilurvriki @bunchofroses07 @ariadores @luvkpopp @asherthehimbo @realrintaro @myjaeyunn

comment, dm, send an ask, or reblog to be added :) i try to keep up with tag lists however i get a ton of notifications everyday so please lmk if i forget you. if you do choose to comment please do it on the masterlist.

a/n: sorry this chapter took so long! if you’re not on my account often i had surgery :3 i am okay tho! i’ve been watching a lot of rotten mango. i’m also going out to a party tonight lolz

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whatispersonalspacejyp · 5 months ago

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A Rogue but Nice

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader

Word Count: 1148

Summary: When a young boy starts high school’s last year his life changed, he was known as a bad boy. However, will he change when he accidentally breaks your leg?

Warnings: small accident, some cursing

Date: 30 December 2024

(First a BTS Story of mine, now changed it)

You were running late for your first class, You saw the school door and made your way to it, but somehow you didn’t. It all looked like it was going in slow-motion, the door looked like it was going further out of reach, and before you know it the world has turned. You could hear an engine stopped and someone yelling.

“Fucking idiot, watch where you are going!” the angry voice yelled. “Shit!” he yelled, but that you didn’t hear any more as everything became dark. One of the teachers who saw what happened called an ambulance before screaming at the person.

Changbin looks down at the floor in worry as he saw you passed out. “Come on you weren’t hit that hard!” The teacher walked over. “Of course Seo Changbin! You are more troublesome than all the other students in the whole school! You stay here young man, you are in big trouble!” in the distance sirens could be heard.

You woke up in the hospital with a doctor and your mom next to you. “Ah good to see you are awake. You were very lucky, most people have more complications after an accident. You just got a broken leg.” As the doctor explained everything then the policewoman and some other woman came in together with a boy, who she holds tightly.

“Glad to hear that it isn’t something major. Now I do have some questions.” She went through her needed procedure. The other woman just stayed silent.

“So, you won’t press charges. but Changbin shouldn’t get away unpunished. So I want him to become the person who takes care of you for most of the day. let’s say between 7 am and 8 pm.

Changbin had been taken care of you for nearly a month now. He was as you would say a terrible butler. As he always had to say or sighed whenever you asked him to do something. You did get that he lost a lot of freedom because of the punishment of his mother. But in your opinion, you weren’t the worst person on earth as you hardly asked him for anything.

The boy who was once known to you as a terrible person had changed too, he slowly had opened up to you which you did appreciate. While he didn’t want to admit it, he did enjoy your company. He was pushing you through the school hallway when some classmates stopped you both.

“Changbin! Do you want to go to prom with me?” one of the two girls asked shyly. Changbin rolled with his eyes. “No, I already have a date with someone.” Hearing that also broke your heart slightly, as you had started to like him. What made you think that he would like you? To him, you were probably a burden.

Changbin sighed again after a while. “Can we... just hang out after school? you know without this whole situation.” You nod with a smile, trying not to let the sadness been seen. “well sure I guess, I do probably need to go home early you know to study.” He nods with a smile, but he did feel like there was something wrong.

Once out of school, Changbin brought you back to his house. Knowing that his parents were still at work he could have some alone time with you. “Here we are.” He helped you out of the car and before you even could say something you were placed on his couch. Within a few seconds Changbin too with some snacks and something to drink. “I uh...” He started out shyly.

“I wanted to ask you something... well actually... you know what never mind.” He said as he looked down at his lap where his hands lay. “Could you maybe help with studying?” You smiled and agreed, even though deep down you didn’t want to as you felt pretty hurt.

Somewhere through the study session Changbin looked at you and couldn’t help staring. “Be my significant other.” He just said bluntly. leaving you quite shocked. “I’m sorry? Why me? Why not the person you go to prom with?” You said in a bit of an angry tone. The situation did not feel right to say yes. his eyes widen. “Wait Y/N! Well... I wanted to ask you to prom with me. I just didn’t know how, and I only want to go with you. I promise I do not have another.”

You looked at him. “I only say yes to the prom now, but if anyway you are lying, then I will leave and never want to see you again.” You knew you were a bit harsh. And within the weeks of waiting for prom you did agree on becoming his significant other after Changbin did manage to prove you were the only one.

You sat at the doctor's office when your phone buzzed.

‘Since I’m your prom date, I’ll pick you up. So be ready or I’ll just go alone.’ - Binnie.

You looked at the doctor with a smile as they removed the cast around your leg, Changbin will be surprised when he will see that the cast is off. “You need to get physical therapy to make your leg get stronger again. And next time be more careful.” You just nod and grabbed the crutches before walking out. Your mother was sitting outside and nods before getting up. “Mom? Let’s go home. I have to get ready for prom tonight.” Your mother just laughs, knowing that you have despised prom ever since people at school started talking about it.

“So, the final change of heart?” She said smirking before opening the door of the car. “Well don’t worry, I'm sure I will love to meet that young man who decided to take you!” You were flabbergasted. “MOM! what makes you say that there is a young man?”

“I just know, also your eyes sparkle a lot.” She said as she parked the car. “Go get a shower and get ready!” you rolled your eyes but did as she said.

Once the doorbell rang, your mother jumps up to open the door and smiled at Changbin. “You must be Changbin I believe? Y/N will be downstairs in a few seconds.” When your mother said that you walked downstairs and stopped halfway to look at him. The smile on his face made you smile too and walked down further. “Your cast... It’s gone.” You nod and he smiled and hugs you. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, now let’s go! Or I am leaving you behind.” You joked, he laughs and kisses your lips. “Don’t worry miss, they are safe with me. And I can’t promise they will be home before midnight.” Your mother just waves off. “Oh just keep them safe! I have been a teenager too, so use protection!”

“MOM!”

40 notes · View notes

heartofbusan · 4 months ago

Note

Your post is thought provoking. Seems everyone is thinking about the after MS right now.

I want them to be happy first and foremost, and for them to do what they feel is best, only they can decide that.

I think if anyone is going to pave the way as far as idol life and dating goes, it’s BTS, though Blackpink have been fairly open of sorts so far. Someone’s got to change the playing field, BTS are in a strong position to do so, with such a huge international fan base especially. Honestly their home land be damned, the ridiculous double standards, homophobia and idol expectancy needs to change, something has to give. They are living in the dark ages in regards to that, so advanced in many other ways. Out with the old and in with the new. What’s that age old saying? Be the change you want to see in the world! It’s never going to change if people don’t stand up and try to make that happen, history has shown that time over. Movements and individuals alike.

I’m not just talking about Jikook here, but in general with all members.

They kept saying prior to enlistment there were things they couldn’t tell us before, that they will, that Jimin said he wants to do what he wants with no restriction, in his last live to Army. Who knows what any of it means, or if they will let us know.

The Yoongi thing is another example of how ridiculous their culture is (sorry not sorry, bc it is), and I hope that he comes back with his held high and finger raised!

For Jikook, all I would want for them is to have them be free to show how close they are. The horse has bolted in many ways since the enlistment and show on top, the show being a choice they made, and aired. They shouldn’t go back to ‘hiding’ so to speak in terms of their closeness, they should honest to god flaunt it.

time will tell I guess

I honestly think the international fanbase is a huge hurdle. Cultural differences mean that not only do they need to think about conforming to their own culture but others as well. I'm not naming names, but there are a couple of extremely active fans out there who belong to cultures that tend to dismiss LGBTQI issues outright and they are also the biggest y/n types you could ever find. These types of fans can also be found in SK, but the fact that BTS for being so widely known would have to juggle multiple cultures is another reason to NEVER make any public announcements. Once you enter 'dating' into the lexicon, it can never be unsaid.

I think what BTS want in regards to their careers just doesn't align with their private lives. And merging the two is best done in private, where the one doesn't become a topic of conversation inside the other. That's just my opinion, and I'll wait and see how far BTS themselves decide to take it.

I love a good metaphor, and 'the horse has bolted' is wonderful. Is it Scandinavian? Am I mistaken? Just sounds like something rugged and wild..a wild horse that became antsy and needed to run.. just like Jikook. Mane fluttering in the wind, never back to being restrained.

Oh, Anon, you reminded me that I STILL haven't dared to watch Jimin’s last live 😭😭😭 his palpable and conflicted emotions like fear, nerves, uncertainty, and vanity all came to the fore, and I absolutely commend him for owning it all. What a brave boy, I needed the 18 months to be so brave, too.. I might soon because, yes, a lot of us are counting down the days.

Thank you 💜💛

#jikook #park jimin #jimin #jungkook #kookmin #sol asks #counting down to BTS freedom

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bteezxyewriter12 · 1 year ago

Text

Massage

Pairing- Jin x Named Reader

Word count- 4.1k

Includes- Cock massage, sex, missionary, sex from behind, cock riding, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Jin Masterlist

Jin POV

“You ok Jinnie?”, Joanne asks me, pausing the movie we’re watching

I’m stretching because my back and shoulders are killing me

Too much practicing

“Yeah Jo. I’m ok. My back just hurts”

“That sucks", she comments then moves behind me on my bed

"What are you doing?”, I ask a bit alarmed

“Fucking relax Jin. I’m just gonna give you a massage.”, she says and I know by her tone she’s rolling her eyes

“You don’t have to”, I answer although I really want her too

She's my best friend since I was little

We grew up together and have been inseparable since then

She’s a veterinarian for the zoo here in Seoul

How she goes near those wild animals that can eat her, I’ll never know but she loves her job

Sometimes we don’t have time to see each other because of our schedules We try to hang out once a week if I’m here and not on tour

“Oh shut up Jin”, she answers

I feel her hands start moving on my shoulders and it feels good

She rubs her thumbs in my shoulder blades and it hurts but in a good way

“Damn Jinnie, you weren’t kidding. You’re so stiff”, she says, using both hands on one of my shoulders

“Yeah. We’re practicing so much. All the award shows are coming up and we’re performing at almost every one.”, I answer

“You’re being worked to death, you know that right?”, she says as she switches to my other shoulder

“It’s ok. I can handle it. BigHit is better than some of the other companies. We’re given a lot more freedom”

“Sure Jinnie. Whatever you say”, she answers

She doesn’t like that I’m an idol

Don’t get me wrong, she’s super proud of me and all I’ve accomplished with BTS

But she hates that I have to work all the time, that I have to practice and perform show after show

She hates that I really don’t have time to do what I want to do

It’s always work

She also hates how the media misrepresents us sometimes, how I can’t go down the street without being recognized, how our privacy is always invaded and how some fans can get She hates the sasaengs with a passion

I swear she’d kick one’s ass if she ever met one

I love that she cares about me and my well being

She’s always there for me whenever I need her even though I’m not always there for her

She really is the best friend I could ever ask for

“Take you’re shirt off and lay face down”, she orders

“What?”

Is she serious?

“Oh c'mon Jin, get your mind outta the gutter. I need to get to your back and I can’t if you’re sitting up. And your shirt’s in the way. Just do it”, she explains

I sigh

I know she’s not going to do anything

We don’t see each other that way

It’s just different

But I trust her

She moves from behind me and waits

Oh what the hell

Taking my shirt off, I turn and lay down on my stomach

She gets up and sits on my ass

“Joanne!”, I yell

What? I need to get close to you and I have no where to sit.”

“Yeah but for you have to sit right on my ass?”

“Where do you want me to sit? I can sit on you’re lower back while I massage your shoulders but I still need to sit somewhere to get your lower back”, she asks

I think but honestly there’s no where else

“Fine, do that then”, I agree

She moves and sits on my back, her legs on either side of me. Her hands go back to my shoulders and she starts rubbing, sliding her fingers on my neck and massaging there too

Her hands move all over my back, making my muscles putty under her hands

She massages me hard at first to get the knots out, then she lightens up, the massage becoming gentle

She’s so fucking good at this

She’s never massaged me before so I never knew she was good at it Honestly she’s better than most professionals

She moves again and sits back on my behind

Her hands slide down and she massages my lower back

“Fuck Jo. It feels so good”

“Good Jinnie. You’re body is so fucking tense. When was the last time you had a massage?”, she asks

“Uh…like a year ago, I think”

“That’s to long Jinnie. You gotta get it more often or you’ll fuck up your body. With how much you have to dance, you need it a lot.”

I know she’s right but there’s no time

When she finishes my back she gets off and says, “Turn around”

I turn and lay on my back. She climbs and sits on my stomach

Leaning over she starts rubbing my shoulders and then moves to my chest

Jesus I didn’t know that can feel so good.

I watch her while she massages me and her face is in such concentration at what she’s doing

Why haven’t I noticed how beautiful she is?

‘Stop it’, I think

She’s your best friend, nothing else

She takes my arm and massages down my arm, starting from my bicep to my wrist and then my hand and fingers

She’s really going all out

She switches to the other arm and does the same thing

When she finishes, she moves and sits on my thighs, completely avoiding my lap

She leans over, rubbing and squeezing my sides and stomach

God my body hasn’t felt this good and relaxed in a long time

When she’s finished she asks “Do your legs hurt too? If you change into sweats or pjs, I can massage you through the pants”

I want her too but I’m too lazy and comfortable to get up. What do I do?

Swallowing hard, I make a decision

“You can uh take them off”, I stutter

Her eyebrow shoots up

“Take you’re pants off?”, she repeats

“Uh yeah”, I blush

She shrugs, “Fine but your boxers are staying on”

I nod

She stands and takes off my belt

She unbuttons and unzips my jeans

I lift myself up so she can pull the jeans down

She gets them off and then moves my legs, opening them

She sits in the spaces between them and starts squeezing my thighs

“You and you’re thunder thighs”, she mutters

“Hey!”, I protest

“Sorry. They’re just big”, she smirks

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Yeah”

“Nice Jo”

“You’re welcome”

While she touches my thighs, I realize with horror that I’m getting hard

This entire thing, her massaging me is turning me on

Shit

What do I do?

She’s not paying attention but she’ll see it eventually

'Don’t freak out’, I tell myself

If I freak out she’ll definitely freak out Just don’t draw her attention to it

She moves down my legs, still massaging and making me more hard

I’m so scared of what she’s gonna say

When she’s done, she looks up and her eyes widen

Shit

“Oh”, is all she says

I look down

I can’t meet her eyes

“I’m sorry, it’s just all the touching-”

“I can fix it if you want”

My head snaps up to her

What?

Is she serious?

“Whh….what?”

“Not sex Jin. But I can make you cum if you want”

How is she talking about this like it’s nothing?

She’s gonna make me cum?

How?

“You don’t have to Jinnie. I’m just offering. You don’t have to take it”

“Yes”, I blurt

I don’t know why but I want her to

I want to know how she’s going to do it

How it’s going to feel

“Oh uh ok.”

She gets off the bed and stands

She pulls my boxers down to my ankles

“Do you trust me Jinnie?”, she asks

“Yeah Jo. Of course”

She nods

Then she pulls her pants and panties off

What?

I thought she said no sex

She climbs back on me

She touches my cock and pumps it a few times then lays it flat on my stomach

I’m so fucking horny and I want to know what she’s going to do

She moves up and I suck in a breath when I see her pussy

I want to touch her

Reaching out, I touch her and shit she’s wet

She breathes harder and I move my fingers on her clit

She lets out a little whimper and fuck I love it

I slide my fingers inside her, her pussy clenchjng hard around them

Jesus, she’s so wet

She gently takes my fingers out of her, then moves down and puts her wet pussy right on my cock

Fuck, it feels good

Slowly she starts moving, sliding along my shaft

I moan from the pleasure that hits my body

How is this feeling so good?

She’s just rubbing herself on my cock and it feels this good

“Jo-”

“Shhh Jinnie. Just feel ok? Just let me massage you and make you feel good ok?”, she whispers

I moan and nod

She changes the way she moves

First she presses hard on me and moves up and down slowly on my entire length

I can’t tear my eyes away from her pussy on me

Then she starts moving faster still pressing hard

“Oh my god”, I moan

Her pussy leaves my cock so slick with her juice and honestly I just want more on me

Then she presses lightly and moves slow again for awhile until she starts to move fast

But the best and what drives me crazy is when she slides up and rubs right on the sensitive underside of my head

She changes her speed a lot as I watch her

First fast, then slow, then fast again and somewhere in between

The pleasure is so fucking intense, running up and down my spine

“You gonna cum Jinnie?”, she asks, starting to move faster

Watching her pussy glide over my head and leaving me soaking wet, pushes me over the edge

“Fuck fuck fuck”, I yell, coming on my stomach

Oh god it feels so fucking good

She keeps rubbing on me until I finish then gets off and sits next to me

She touches my cock, wiping the cum from my tip

I watch as she puts her fingers in her mouth

Oh my god

Did she just?

She leans over me and licks my cum from my stomach

Holy shit, she did

My mouth drops open as I watch her lick all the cum from my body and swallow

It’s so fucking hot

When she’s done, she just says, “You taste good Jinnie”

Holy fuck

She’s going to kill me

She’s going to get me hard again

She glances at my clock and says, “I gotta go Jin

I have to get up early

A tiger is supposed give birth tomorrow and I have to be there”

Wait what?

That’s it?

She just made me feel incredible and she’s just going to leave?

Did she even cum?

She climbs over me and starts pulling her panties on

“Wait Jo…..did you c-”

“No Jinnie. It’s ok. Don’t worry about me. Everything was just for you”

“But Jo”

“It’s ok Jin. I really have to go. Call me when you wanna hang out again ok?”, she smiles at me

Uh....

“Ok”, I answer at a loss for words

She waves and leaves

What the fuck just happened?

My best friend massaged my cock…with her pussy?

And she made me cum

And she didn’t want anything back

And why do I want her to do it again?

'Because it felt so goddamn good’, I tell myself

I can’t wrap my head around this

🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹

Four Months Later

Jin POV

“Hey Jo. Can you uh massage me later?”, I ask her

“Sure Jinnie”, she answers then goes back to the couch, next to Tae, puts her head on his shoulder and watches the movie

And I instantly get jealous

Ever since that day, she used herself to massage me to cum, I’ve asked her to do it a lot

And she always says yes

She comes to the dorm or I go to her apartment

We both undress from the bottom down, then she climbs on me and rubs me with her pussy until I cum

Then she licks my cum off me

After that we hang out like normal

Like we didn’t just do something sexual

We watch movies, get food, play games and talk

I’m with her as much as I can be

The only thing that bothers me is that she doesn’t cum

I mean she’s so soaked everytime but she doesn’t cum or let me make her cum

When I brought it up to her, she just shrugged and said that she’s happy to just do it for me and that she doesn’t need to cum

I accepted that at first but now it’s different

Because I’m not with her all the time just to cum

I actually haven’t asked her to do it for awhile except for today

She does it on her own

She takes me to whatever bed we’re near and she does it

And I fucking love it, love being with her so I give in

Because I’m in love with her

I’m in love with my best friend

I’m with her all the time because I want to spend time with her

Once I realized I fell in love, I stopped asking her to massage me

I just want to be with her, doing whatever

Just sitting next to her and looking at her is enough

And honestly that’s what I’ve been doing- all the time

When we watch movies, tv or play video games all I do is stare at her

She doesn’t notice and I always avert my eyes quickly when she looks over at me

She hasn’t shown any sign of feeling anything more for me than friendship

She never holds my hand, never lays with me after she makes me feel good, never puts her head on my shoulder when we’re watching tv like she’s doing with Tae now, never kissed me

She’ll do something sexual with me but she hasn’t kissed me once

I can’t take it anymore

I want her

I want to be with her in every way

I asked her to be with me to get her alone, because I’m going to tell her I love her

I’m terrified but I need to tell her

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

She follows me to my room

I sit on the bed and she sits next to me

“Jo-”, I start

“Shh Jinnie. I’m going to make you feel so good”

“But Jo.”

“Yeah?”, she asks as she reaches over me and palms me through my pants

Fuck

Any touch she gives me makes me so hard

And shuts my brain off

I want her so fucking much

And I give in

I pull her up and pull her pants and panties down

She takes my pants and boxers off

She pushes me on my back and immediately climbs on me

She lays my cock on my stomach again and puts herself on me

She starts sliding up and down and I moan so loudly

“You like it Jinnie?”

“Yes. Always”, I answer

“I like making you feel good”, she answers, moving to my head and sliding her wet pussy on it

She likes to tease me because she knows that’s my favorite spot

So she’ll do it there for awhile then move off

I can’t fucking take it

I want her

“Jo…ccc….can I go inside?”, I stutter

“What?”, she asks but doesn’t stop moving

“I wwww…..want you. I want to be inside you”

“You want sex?”, she asks, stopping

“No Jo. Not just sex. I want to be with you. I want to make you feel good, I want to make you cum, I want to kiss you, hold you. That’s what I want”, I admit sitting up with her still on me

“Jinnie…”

My heart constricts in my chest and I look down

She doesn’t want me

That kills me

But I’m not going to force her

I would never hurt her

“Yes Jinnie”, she says, lifting my face to hers

“Yes?”, I repeat

“Jinnie, I want you. I…”, she trails off

She what?

I want to know

What is she going to say?

That it’s just this once?

That she’s going to want it all the time?

I don’t care, I’ll give it to her

“What Jo?”

“Jinnie, I….I…..”,

She looks down, takes a deep breath and looks back at me

“Jinnie I love you”, she says softly

She…she loves me?

I let it sink in

She loves me!

“I’m in love with you Jinnie. Since we started this and we’ve been together all the time, I’ve fallen in love with you. I love spending time with you and I do love making you feel good. I wasn’t going to tell you but I…shit…I don’t know why I told you. Shit…I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry Jo.”, I interrupt, “Please don’t be sorry”

I can’t let her apologize for loving me when I love her so much

She looks away but I gently turn her face back to me

“I love you too”, I tell her

“Www…what?”

“Jo, the reason I asked you to my room wasn’t to do this. It was to tell you I love, that I’m in love with you and to ask you to be mine. But then you touched me and anytime you touch me anywhere you get me hard and I just went with it”

She’s staring at me wide eyed and I can’t get over how beautiful she is

“I love you so much Jo. Can you please be mine?”, I ask

She nods immediately, “Yes Jinnie, yes”

She moves closer and kisses me

Oh god, her kiss is everything

It fucking blows my mind

I wrap my arms around her, my hand sliding in her hair and her arms going around my neck

She pulls away and says, “I love you Jin”

The biggest smile burst on my face, “I love you Joanne”

I pull her back to me in a heated kiss

She pulls my shirt up and I let go of her lips so she can take it off

I grab her shirt and have it off in a second

She kisses me passionately again, her tongue going in my mouth and making me moan

I reach around her and unclasp her bra, taking it off

She pushes me back and starts moving her hips, sliding herself on me again

“Oh fuck!”, I yell

When she slides up to my head, I move a little and slide inside her

“Oh shit”, she yells as I get all the way in

“Oh my god Joanne! Fuck me, you feel so good”

She feels so tight and so fucking wet. She fits around me perfectly

She leans down and kisses me again, then sits back up and starts bouncing on me

Sheer pleasure runs through my veins

“Oh Jinnie! Oh god!”, she moans, moving rapidly on me

She’s so fucking sexy and watching her ride me is such a turn on

She leans back, putting her arms behind her on my thighs and moves so much harder and faster

I thrust up, watching my cock go in and out of her and hitting so deep

I slam a spot in her and she yells, “There Jinnie. Oh fuck baby, don’t stop”

“I won’t princess, I won’t not until you cum”

I love listening to her moaning

I feel her throbbing on me and I know she’s close

I slam her in her spot again and again making her scream

And my door opens just as she cums

“Jin what’s-”

“Jin! Oh god Jin! Yes Seokjin!”, she screams, coming hard, body shaking hard and feeling so goddamn incredible

I had no idea it could feel so fucking pleasurable to be cummed on

“Baby, Jinnie, more Jin, please baby”, she begs

“Anything you want Jo.”, I answer

I pull out pick her up and throw her to the foot of my bed on her back

Opening her legs again I bury myself in her

“Yes!”, she cries

I lean over and kiss her lips, then move down, kissing her neck and moving hard in her

“Oh god”, I hear a gasp

Shit.

I vaguely remember the door being opened

I look up at the door, still slamming in her and see all the guys staring at us in various stages stages of shock

“Get the fuck out!”, I growl

“Jin harder, Jin”, she moans, oblivious to the guys watching

She’s gripping my upper arm so tightly and moaning

I snap my hips harder, driving myself in her as hard as I can

“Yes yes yes!”, she cries

“I said get out!”, I yell at them

They all jump, close the door and I go back to her

I kiss her again, then move on my knees, one of her legs wrapped around me and I grab the other holding it out wide

“Jin, fuck Jin, you’re cock feels so good baby.”

“It’s all for you, my beautiful princess. You can have me anytime you want”

I feel her getting ready

“Cum Joanne. I want you to cum right now!”

“Fffff……Fuck!”, she cries, pussy clenching me as she releases all over me

“Jin! Fuck Seokjin!”

“Yes princess, fuck yes. Again baby. Give it to me again”, I order

I slam her and find her spot again

“Oh god!”, she screams in ecstacy

I turn her on her side and hold one leg up, pounding into her spot over and over

“Cum now!”, I demand and she listens, orgasming again, legs shaking

“Fuck Jo, you’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum. I want to watch you some more. Can you give me more princess?”, I plead

“Yes Jin. I’ll give you whatever you want”, she answers, shouting

“Good girl. My good girl”, I praise her, “My princess”

Moving again, she screams while another orgasm rips through her

“Good girl”, I repeat, fucking her hard through her orgasm

I pull out, get her on her hands and knees and plunge back in

“Yes oh fuck yes!”, she shouts, “Fuck Jin, I love you’re cock baby. I love you’re big, hard cock fucking me”

Yes, I love that she loves my cock and how good I fuck her

Gripping her hips, I move her on and off me hard

“Yes Jinnie, yes baby. Give it to me baby”, she moans

“Are you gonna cum princess? Or do I have to stop?”, I tease her, pounding away in her tight pussy

“No don’t stop Jin. I’ll cum. I promise, just don’t stop”

“Ok princess but I want it”

“Yes Jinnie”

I drive my cock against her spot again and again, her screaming incoherently

I need more

I fucking need it

“Again Joanne. Now”, I hit her spot again, “Again princess. I need it, one more time so I can cum”

Another slam

“Seokjin!”, she screams at the top of her lungs, her whole body shaking violently as she struggles to keep herself up

I watch her cum coat my cock, more going on me the longer her orgasm lasts

I slam in her once more and cum, screaming her name from the intense pleasure I’m feeling

I pull out of her just as she collapses on the bed

I need to fucking lay down

My body isn’t used to this kind of pleasure

But I need her in my arms

I pick her up and settle her on me as I lay back

I move her sweaty hair from her face and run my fingers in it

I feel her heart beating so rapidly against my skin

“Jin, fuck Jin. That was amazing. You were amazing”, she breathes

“You were too princess. It wasn’t just me”

She lifts her head tiredly and smiles at me shyly, “I like when you call me princess”

I smile, “You are Jo. You’re my princess”

She touches my face, stroking my cheek, “You my worldwide handsome prince”, she says softly

I like that, a lot

She moves a little closer and kisses my lips, so softly and lovingly

“I love you Jinnie”

“I love you Jo”, I answer, “Can you stay with me tonight princess? I don’t want to sleep without you”

“Yeah Jinnie. I want to stay with you. All the time”

“You can princess. You can stay with me all the time”

She kisses me again and lays back down on me

“I love you”, she sighs

“I love you”, I tell her

I play with her hair, closing my eyes and fall asleep with her in my arms

#bts jin fanfic #jin fanfic #kim seokjin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #bts seokjin smut #kim seokjin smut #seokjin smut #bts jin smut #jin smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

70 notes · View notes

avianyuh · 2 years ago

Note

Hello 👋👋 can I pls request BTS members unrequited love headcanons where they are in love with reader who is their friend. But reader is oblivious to their feelings and doesn't reciprocate because she is not a celebrity and she never thought that they will ever like her romantically. One day they get jealous when reader starts liking someone or maybe another member starts liking her?Thank you ❤️ ❤️

BTS getting jealous and confessing to reader

word count; 3,058

Seokjin;

Seokjin had met you through a friend.

You two had instantly clicked and Seokjin had fallen for you after a few months of knowing you.

If he was being completely honest, he didn’t know why he had never come clean about his feelings.

He had thought about it a lot and had come to the conclusion that you most likely just viewed him as a friend.

So to him, he’d reather be in your life as a friend than lose you if you didn’t feel the same way.

And for awhile, that all worked

Until one day you had come over to his apartment to have dinner with him

The night was going well

Seokjin had cooked dinner for you

But then you broke his heart

“Seokjin! You’ll never guess what happened at the office today. You know that new guy who kept sitting with me at lunch? He asked me out’, you sighed clasping your hands together, all wide-eyed and red in the face.

Seokjin felt his heart sink

He wouldn’t be able to be around you if you started dating this guy

It’d be too painful for him to watch you

The woman who loved, with another guy

So unintentionally, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “I don’t think you should go out with him”

You’re smile disappeared as you looked at him, confused.

“Why not?”, you asked him.

His heart started racing. Quick, what should I say?, he thought to himself.

He knew he had to come clean.

“Because, I like you.”

You’re eyes went wide again, but for a different reason this time.

You were surprised. You never thought Seokjin had viewed you as anything more than a friend.

“You like me?”, you asked staring at him.

All he could do was keep his head down and nod his head up and down.

You stood up and walked over to him

Seokjin looked up as you pulled him into a hug.

“Is this you telling me you feel the same way?”, he asked.

Yoongi;

Though you and Yoongi work in the same profession, you led very different lives.

You were a producer.

You didn’t have any social media.

No one really knew who you were.

You absolutely loved what you did

Which is what brought you to Yoongi.

You worked at Bighit and had been assigned to work on a song with him for his next album.

The two of you bonded and Yoongi developed not only a friendship with you, but also a bit of a crush too.

But, one night in the studio you had told Yoongi something that made him rethink his need and want to confess his attraction towards you.

For reference;

The two of you had been talking all night in the studio. The project had been finished for the day

Yoongi had been telling you about how he wished he could do some of the things he used to do before he had gotten famous.

He felt like he couldn’t really go anywhere without the need of a bodyguard or a manager

He missed his independence

So when you had told him how you’d hate to give up your freedom and be famous.

It had really gotten him thinking.

If he were to confess his feelings for you, would you reject him because he was famous?

Though he understood your feelings, it kind of crushed him

He felt like you’d never want to date him because of your feelings toward being famous

And obviously, if you dated him, your privacy would be gone.

So…he put his feelings on the backburner and tried to forget about it.

But, because you never knew he liked you

And technically, you were not only co-workers, but also friends

His feelings were hard to get rid of because he had to see you all of the time

But one day when you mentioned off handely that you had gone on a date the night before

Yoongi had felt insanely jealous

And he acidentally snapped at you

“I don’t want to hear about your stupid date okay Y/n?”

You looked at him, scrunched eyebrows, confusion and hurt evident on your face.

“What’s wrong with you?”, you asked hesitantly.

“I just don’t understand why you have to tell me about your dating life when I never even asked in the first place, that’s all”, he responded back angrily.

By that point you felt uncomfortable, so you stood up from your seat in the studio and started gathering up your stuff to leave. Murmuring that you had somewhere to be and should get going.

For a few seconds, Yoongi was actually going to let you go.

He thought that maybe this was all for the best.

You being in a relationship would help him get over you faster.

But there was this tiny voice inside his head that told him he’d regret letting you go without even trying to express his feelings.

He sighed before calling your name.

You turned around bracing for more hurtful words from one of your favorite people.

But unexpectedly, he walked over to you, saying a quick ‘sorry’, before pulling you into him and kissing you.

Yoongi braced himself for a slap, or a shove, but instead he felt you sink into his embrace.

You broke the kiss first, looking up at him, “We have some things to talk about, but why exactly did you make things so hard for yourself?”, you asked, which received a laugh from him

Hoseok;

Hoseok had met you through his sister.

She had a business event and the two of you had accidentaly bumped into each other

Which you both frantically apoligized to each other

Which made you both start hysterically laugh

And hence, a new friendship blossomed

Probelm was

Hobi caught feelings for you

But you had actually made it clear to him a few times that you didn’t want to be in picture with him or anything

Mainly because you wanted to keep your privacy

So the two of you didn’t get to see each other often

It wasn’t out of character to not speak for a few weeks at a time

But you always invited in over to sit and chat about your recent whereabouts

And considering how interesting Hoseok’s life is

And just how infatuated he was with you

You both looked forward to these meet-ups

Well…except for this one

You had been chatting for an hour or two

When in the middle of your story about work, your phone went off

You looked down at it

And Hobi couldn’t hepp but peak

You sighed as you picked it up, unlocked it and started texting

You put it back down and quickly apologized to Hosoek

Who waved you off, “Don’t worry about it”, he had said

You nodded in agreement and looked back down at your phone again, reading the response

“Who is it?”, Hoseok asked.

“This guy I’ve been seeing”, you said nonchalantly.

Hoseok sat up straight at the sound of that

He tried to play it cool, “You were…seeing someone? Anyone I know?”, he asked you.

“Uhh, no. Just some guy my friend introduced me to a few weeks ago. It was actually right after you had come over that week. I just don’t know if I like him all that much, he’s kind of boring.”, you explained.

Hobi would be lying if he didn’t admit that he was happy to hear that you weren’t interested in this guy.

“What is your type Y/n?”, Hoseok asked, resting his head in the palm of his right hand, looking up at you almost like he was conducting an interview.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m looking for someone funny. Someone who obviously isn’t boring…”, you said.

“Someone like me?”, Hoseok asked hesitantly.

You looked up at him, squinting, “Yeah…I guess I’m looking for someone that reminds me of you.”, you couldn’t believe you were admitting that to him.

“Then why not just date me? Isn’t that easier”, he asked, his smile slowly overtaking his serious interviewer expression.

“I had no idea you were into me Hobi”, you said, also developing a smile.

“Well now you do”, he said.

Namjoon;

You had met Namjoon randomly during an outing.

You had been at the same museum, looking at the same exhibit.

Namjoon had noticed you first, as you were trying to get a picture of yourself and the artwork displayed on the wall.

He watched you for a few seconds, looking around to see if anyone had come with you to help you take the photo but he didn’t notice anyone

At first he was going to walk away, but decided to approach you and ask if you needed someone to take the picture for you.

“Excuse me, I noticed you were trying to take a picture. Um, if you need help I wouldn’t mind taking it for you?”, he asked kindly.

You looked at him, responding with gratitude, “Oh, thank you so much! That would be great.”

You handed him your phone and walked backwards. Asking him if you should move over or readjust your position.

You spent the next few minutes being redirected by Namjoon.

After he took a few photos for you, you asked him if he had come to the museum alone, to which he responded that he had.

You asked him if he wanted to walk through the rest of it with you, and possibly help you take more pictures

He agreed and boom, that was how you met

By the end of the museum tour, you had exchanged phone numbers and had became good friends.

As you walked through the museum that day, you had asked him about what he does for a living, and thai took Namjoon back.

Not because he was stuck up or offended that someone didn’t know he was in BTS

But it was actually because he found it cool that he had coincidentally met someone who didn’t know who he was

So when he told you, and watched as you gasped and covered your face in embarrassment, apologizing for not knowing.

He immediately reassured you that you had no need to apologize to him

After that over the course of a few months of knowing each other, Namjoon had gotten to know your true feelings on a few different topics

One of those topics being your opinion on fame.

More accurately, your opinion on how you could never imagine yourself as famous

You had told him how you thought it was too constricting and how ou didn’t know how he handled it so well.

Though he found it endearing how you obviously weren’t friends with him for fame

He kind of realized that you’d probably never want to be anything more than friends due to his job

But that changed when he had introduced you to his members one day

You two had made plans to go get coffee

You would come by the company building after his dance practice and then go to the cafe

But when you came inside and greeted everyone, Jimin took a likin to you very fast

He was cracking jokes with you and of course you were laughing because lets be honest Park Jimin is very charismatic.

And Namjoon was starting to get angry

He became very jealous really fast

So, he quickly approached you and asked if he could speak to you outside.

You agreed and followed him out of the practice room and into the hallway.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling

You asked him what was wrong

So he started with a question, “Are you interested in him?”

“Who?’, you asked, “Jimin? I just met him”, you explained look up at Namjoon.

“I mean…it’s okay if you are I guess but…uh, I don’t know, I think you’d get along better with me.”, He shrugged, avoiding eye-contact with you.

“Do you like me?”, you asked him.

“Yes…I wasn’t sure if you knew”, Namjoon said.

Jimin;

Jimin had known you for over a year.

He had never really viewed you as a friend and has always wanted to confess.

But he knew you had no interest in fame so he decided to just try and keep his feelings to himself.

He frequently introduced you to his other million friends (lol I had to)

And one of which was Jungkook.

One of his closest friends and his group mate

He hadn’t expected anything to happen

But when you told him a few weeks after the introduction that you had a date with Jungkook

He was very, very confused

In fact he actually stood up really fast and was like, “WHAT, WHEN, HOW, WHY”, and you side-eyed him

“Don’t be so dramatic, he gave me his number after you introduced us.”, he had explained.

And to be fair to JK, he had no idea that Jimin was into you since you had known each other for over a year and he made no moves.

“I thought you didn’t want to be involved in anything that could get you linked to fame?”, Jimin asked you, trying to think of a plan to stop this *dreadful* date from happening.

“I mean, I’m friends with you and nothing’s happened yet. I’m sure It’ll be okay”, you had said.

Jimin got up from his seat and started pacing back and forth, still thinking of some excuse to give you as to why you shouldn’t go out with Jungkook.

You had noticed his erratic behavior and asked him what was wrong.

He looked at you and all he could say was, “I don’t want you to go out with Jungkook”, you looked at him ,puzzled as to why he cared so much. He noticed your expression and just decided to come clean. “I don’t want him to go out with you because…I like you. Ever since I met you, I’ve had a thing for you, I just never thought you’d be interested because you told me you didn’t want to be famous.”, you looked at him, then down at your phone.

You texted Jungkook explaining you had to cancel, and that was the day you started dating Park Jimin.

Taehyung;

Similar to Jimin

You had been friends for over a year.

Except you had met at a clothing store (I’m sorry IK this is predictable, I’m running out of ideas for where you meet. It’s tough writing 7 unique stories lol)

You had been working there and he came in one day and blah blah blah, you became friends over your shared love of fashion.

And honestly, Taehyung really valued your friendship and input on a lot of different things.

He didn’t have any feelings for you as far as he could remember.

But when one day over the phone you told him about how some guy had asked you out at a coffee shop that day while getting a drink with friends

He felt this weird feeling

Like he wasn’t happy for you

That weird feeling he was feeling?

Yep, you guessed it; JEALOUSYYYYYYY

So he was kind of silent for a minute. And then he made up some excuse to hang up the phone because now he had to think about all of this.

Was he into you? He never viewed you in a romantic way, you were a close friend, nothing more, right? But the why would he be jealous, why would he not be happy for you?

So there he was. Laying on his bed looking up at the ceiling, utterly confused.

But then he realized it, he’s obviously jealous BECAUSE he likes you.

Who’s the person he calls first when he hears about good news? You

Who’s the person he goes to for advice on anything and everything under the sun? You

Who’s the person he stays up late talking to on the phone? You

Who’s the person he wants to be with? YOU

So…

He immediately dialed your number

Yes, he knows it by heart

And voila, confession.

Spoiler, you felt the same way.

Jungkook;

YESSSSS

I’ve made it to the last member

Okay, he actually met you through his friend Eunwoo (why Eunwoo? Idk, I know they’re friends and I don’t know where JK meets people lmao so yeah…Cha Eunwoo everyone…)

Okay anyways, you met JK through him.

How you were friends with Eunwoo, idk, but you weren’t famous, that’s what matters.

Jungkook instantly liked you, but he actually thought that you liked Eunwoo, not him.

But he actually ‘causlaly’, totally not casual btw, he asked Eunwoo if like…and I quote, “Knew if Y/n asked about me”, and Eunwoo was like, “Why? You like her?”, and Jungkook got all embarrassed

But Jungkook begged him not to say anything and Eunwoo kept is word. But Jungkook still thought that it wasn’t worth asking you out because he genuinely thought he’d get rejected.

But one day, the two of you were hanging out and you mentioned how you had been out with Eunwoo the other day.

This made Jungkook mad.

And he got all huffy and puffy and you were really confused.

“Did I do something wrong? You’re acting weird”, you asked him.

“No”, is all he said in response.

“Okay, anyways, I went to this restaurant with Eunwoo, it was so-”, Jungkook cut you off before you could finish.

“I don’t care about Eunwoo. Why didn’t you ask me if I wanted to go. You know I love spending time with you”, he said angrily.

You were shook

Like, jaw dropped, you never expected him to snap at you like that.

“Jungkook…are you jealous”, you asked.

“Do I really have to answer that?”, he responded.

“You know there’s nothing between Eunwoo and I, right?”

“Well…now I do.”, he said.

{A/N; Helloooooo, I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to have a happy ending so I decided to end it with a confession (aka a happy ending) I hope this was good! Ty anon! Also I feel like when it comes to BTS, I write better for the hyung line. Idk why, but sorry lol if you read this and notice that the hyung line gets longer parts than the maknae line. Again, I’m not really sure why I have such a problem writing for them, especially Jimin and Taehyung}

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