#jackson wang x reader smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keehomania · 2 months

Text

frostbite (동상) ㅡ min yoongi (민윤기)

the second part can be found here

✧.* 18+

“cold as ice, hard as stone, never choose men over being alone,” was what your mother had found herself repeating to you your entire life. maybe not your entire life, actually. you couldn't really remember when the phrase was spoken into life, perhaps when you had turned twelve, thirteen; when you began to develop and mature, when push-up bras began to substitute training bras, when makeup began to gain significance, when she had noticed how older and younger men alike had started to smirk and leer more and more shamefully whenever you passed by.

it wasn't because she had it out for you. quite the opposite, actually. it was something her mother had sang to her, an invention of her own she had sang to life when hormones began to work faster than she could blink. she thought it would raise awareness as a subtle way for her to let her daughter know that no man could ever be trusted in the slightest, but your mother didn't care to listen. it worked the first few years of her adolescence; she avoided relationships all throughout high school and college, but all good things come to an end. after she had graduated and gone into finance the way she had planned, things took a turn when she met your father. no one could have predicted the outcome. their relationship moved quickly, but smoothly. their friends had sworn up and down that they could never imagine them in an argument, until they got married. with marriage came a child, you. with a child came more responsibilities, with which came more money spent. they spent and spent until they had nothing left to spend, and that's when the verbal arguments had reached a new low.

by the time you had turned fifteen, you found yourself consoling your mother as much as she allowed you to. it was draining, you found yourself asking the man in the sky for a way out. a way out was in store, just not for you. one night, just a little after midnight, your father had packed his bags and left after another one of their more tense fights, swearing to find a younger, prettier, richer woman. you had both assumed it was another one of his empty threats, but you would never come to know, as that was the last time either of you have seen or heard from him.

for weeks on end following his departure, your mother had no tears left to cry. she was too quiet, white in the face as if all the blood has been drained from her body. she wasn't interested in discussing what had happened ever again. more weeks passed and winter came along, and she had fallen ill. you had picked up a job at fifteen and worked as many shifts as you could just to keep the house warm, to keep food on the table at least until december's weather had passed. she knew you had been trying, and you knew she was grateful, but you couldn't shake the uneasy feeling as her condition worsened, as did the weather.

blizzards were uncommon in daegu. sure, it was normal to wake up to over ten inches of snow, but the storms just never seemed to take action. that's why you were surprised to have woken up just half an hour past four in the morning, to the sound of ice pounding on your windows and vicious wind blowing. your room was on the second floor, completely untouched, and you felt relieved for just a second. that second quickly passed when you called out for your mother, only to be met with silence. maybe she didn't hear you, maybe she had mistaken your voice for the wind; it's what you so badly wanted to believe as you made your way down the stairs. your heart stopped when you had realized that hope was more than a call away.

despite the untouched stairs and floor above, the living room she had been sleeping in was a wreck. the air was noticably colder, windows broken, glass shattered on the wet floor. the storm had done all the damage, yet that still wasn't the worst part. your mother was still on the couch, her skin as pale as ever. she was facing the ceiling, eyes open. you felt your heart sink to your stomach, and you've been dreading the feeling ever since. you've carried the grief ever since it happened, tears stinging whenever november made an appearance, whenever the temperature shifted. your mother had frozen to death, and how could you ever get over it, how could you ever function? you dreaded your father more than anything, knowing that if she could've beared to sleep in their shared room on the floor above, she would've been alive.

that was the first moment you had taken her words to heart. cold as ice, hard as stone, never choose men over being alone.

you had made it through the rest of high school without any interest in dating, or men in general. you had graduated the way you pictured yourself graduating, and you did it alone. it was a lonely road before anything else, but it was something you learned to live with. you spent your last summer as a high school student working to kill the time, waiting for the college season to start. everyone from your class had gone their separate ways, but you couldn't care less. every day seemed the same—wake up, eat, work, come home, eat, sleep. you went to sleep dreading the night, and woke up dreading the day. on one particular day, a man had stopped you in your tracks on the way to work. all he had to say was, “wouldn't hurt to smile, would it?” all it did was put a scowl on your face.

when summer had finally come to an end, you were the most ecstatic you've been in in the last four years. you couldn't wait to leave the house you grew up in—sell it, rent it out, it didn't matter. all you wanted was out. you ended up renting it out to an anonymous customer, which definitely should've raised some alarms, but you couldn't care less. they needed the house, you needed the money; they could've turned it into a meth lab for all you cared.

daegu university was located on the other side of town. it was a good college, despite how far away it was, which meant it was worth the agonizing drive. it was almost cartoonishly big, big and urban. nothing less was to be expected of a private school with a low acceptance rate and big bills. you had met with the principal of the university a total of three times. the first time was to congratulate you for being accepted, which had taken you aback. it was the first time in a long time you had allowed yourself to grin from ear to ear. the second time was just a few days later, he had shown you around the campus in advance, to avoid any confusion when the halls were packed to the brim. the third and final time was to get you comfortable in your dorm, where you met your dorm roommate.

the school itself was filled with spoiled, conceited kids with little to no knowledge and extended trust funds. it truly was a sight for sore eyes in the worst way possible. often did you find yourself rolling your eyes at their remarks and complaints, it was incredible how they could be so out of touch with reality and out of sync with the real world. you couldn't keep up with the rich people bullshit—stained shoes, last season clothes, companies going bankrupt. just a month into college, you learned to tune everything out, nearly everything.

your roommate took the cake, and you knew it. you felt the last shreds of your patience go numb when you had first met him. for the sake of your education, you told yourself that having a guy as your roommate would be no issue. you didb't want to leave a sour taste in the principal's mouth, so you put on a smile and complied. all you had to do was ignore him, just as you had been doing your whole life. he was quiet when you had first met, he was quiet throughout the many times you had spotted him during lectures or lunch. min yoongi—out of his entire group of friends, he seemed to be the most tame. that had lasted until he grew more comfortable and less mindful of your presence.

awake at the peak of midnight, you typed away at your laptop. your forehead was slick with sweat, hair tied back as you focused on your presentation. yoongi had gone out, perhaps with his friends. the room was quiet, aside from the sound of the wind whistling from outside. the silence didn't last as long as you needed it to, however, your heart practically skipping a beat as the door swung open. you really could've sworn you had locked it, making a mental note to double-check from that point on. the room was dark, so you couldn't make out who had entered until the lights flickered on. the smell of soju was pungent as yoongi stumbled into the room, making your nostrils flare. you couldn't bite back the groan that left your mouth as he stumbled in, only because he wasn't entering alone, for the third night in a row. he had come in with another sorority girl, hand around her waist as their lips remained locked in a drunken dance, their feet tumbling over each other. yoongi waved you off as if to let you know he didn't give a shit, you could either stay and watch or leave, so you left for the third night in a row. you took your laptop with you and remained sat outside of the door, typing hastily while you prepared yourself for yet another night of listening to their ten minutes of pleasure.

while you continued to type away, you felt a tap on your shoulder. already pissed off, you bit back a hiss as you snapped your head to the side. greeted by your friend's smile, you were relieved you didn't snap at him. “shit, third night in a row? he's on a roll, isn't he?” kim taehyung was the first person that introduced himself to you, and on your first day, too. at first, you had no interest in being his friend, but quickly warmed up to him once you realized just how much you had in common. he was from bukgu, just like you. he liked the same things you did, but more importantly, disliked the same things as you—men and rich people. men, more or less—he cheered you on when you found yourself ranting about men and their behavior, even if he did it jokingly. his vendetta against the rich was what made him stick out, as he had gotten into the university due to his promising resumé, accepting a full scholarship. with that being said, he was always respectful towards you, treating you as a friend and nothing more.

“i don't know how you can stand to hang out with him,” you responded, typing away as he allowed himself to sit next to you, throwing a glance at the screen. “he's a good friend, don't sweat it,” he paused, a smile crossing his lips. “but i'm not dumb enough to live with him, fuck no.”

yoongi was all too quiet, even with his friends, but he made up for that with many habits that failed to please you. those habits ranged from chainsmoking to excessive drinking to the dehumanizing way he fucked every girl with two legs and a functioning mouth. shit, it didn't matter if the girls had two legs or three, he'd find a way to spread them as long as he was in the mood, but they'd never get a glance from him the next day, let alone a text back. he'd just move onto the next victim.

“you could hold me at gunpoint and i still wouldn't know what these girls see in him,” you scoffed. you really didn't know. sure, he was a good-looking guy, you weren't gonna go out of your way to lie and call him ugly, but nobody could be good-looking enough to risk your self-respect.

taehyung seemed like he was actually thinking about it for a second, the faint sound of moans and groans from behind the door adding to his brain fog, “i think he just has a really big dick, yeah?” you shot him a look, almost concerned, “you seem to do a lot of thinking about his dick, anything you wanna tell me?” you teased, earning a joking punch to the shoulder.

“how charming,” he sneered, all you could do was laugh. he paused for a second as the moans began to die down. “there is something i wanna ask you, though.”

you stopped your typing, peeling your eyes off the screen in order to face him. “yeah, go ahead.” he seemed hesitant, a nervous smile crossing his face, and you couldn't help but worry about what was to come. “you can't say no right away, you have to hear me out,” he was only making it worse. “i'm supposed to go to this kid's frat party tomorrow night, and i wanna bring a guest, yeah?”

your face couldn't help but twist up in pure confusion. it wasn't that you were a total stone cold bitch that was gonna leave him high and dry, but you had never been to a party in your life. “and out of all the potential victims in this school, you wanna go with me?” he nodded, almost eagerly, as if the answer was supposed to be obvious. “duh, who else am i supposed to go with?” you could've inquired, but you didn't dare argue back, you didn't have the patience to. instead, you waited a second before agreeing. you didn't have to stay overnight, just a couple hours to keep taehyung company.

“okay, yeah, come to the dorm and we'll go, what time is it?” you asked as you closed your laptop, the painful silence from behind the door being a good enough sign that you could come back in. “i'll come by around eight, thanks for this, i owe you one.” you nodded as he gave you a hug goodbye, watching as he scurried down the hall and back to his own dorm.

you let out a sigh of exasperation, hand sliding down your face as the realization hit you. you didn't know the first thing about social gatherings, let alone about the ones with wannabe elite socialities that'll have too much to drink. the thought made your stomach churn as you reached for the doorknob, but before you could open the door, you had been beaten to it.

from the other side, the girl yoongi had brought to the dorm had swung the door open, stopping in her tracks as she locked eyes with you. she was a pretty girl, but the look she gave you was enough to make your blood boil. she didn't say a word, but the look itself was so nasty, you felt as dirty as she did. as she stomped away, you could hear the sound of yoongi's laughter from the room. “feisty one, isn't she?” he asked as you finally came in, making sure to lock the door this time. “charming girl, you sure know how to pick them,” you rolled your eyes.

he turned to face you as you walked in, wearing nothing but his short as he made himself comfortable, pressing a cigarette to his lips. the look you threw him was incredible, almost mimicking the one tonight's vencido shot you just a few seconds prior. “do you really have to smoke that shit in here?” you asked as he lit the tip of it. he raised an eyebrow, as if offended. “you got lung cancer?” the question had little to no relevance, but you shook your head. “then, what's the problem?”

“it smells like shit,” you hissed, waving your hand at the smoke drifting in your direction. he couldn't help but chuckle as he made his way over to the sofa, kicking his feet over the side. “hold your breath, open a window if you have to.” you scoffed as you watched his eyes close, cigarette tucked between his lips. you opened both of the windows in the room, greeting with fresh air with open arms. it was the last thing you had said to one another before you went to sleep, physically too tired to argue any further.

the following morning came too quickly, the sunlight from the window that had been, once again closed, practically blinding you, even while your eyes were closed. you could barely open them, head groggy as you powered through it. despite the bright rays, it wasn't what you saw that had awoken you from your slumber, but what you had heard.

it was about seven in the morning, maybe a few minutes last seven. whatever time it was, you knew it was too early to be listening to whatever it was you were listening to. you could make out two loud voices; one was yoongi's, the other belonged to a girl. for a second, your blood ran cold at the thought of him hooking up with a girl while you were awake, but the fear went away as your vision began to clear up. they were both half-naked; not fucking, just arguing.

“you're a fucking asshole, you've always been a fucking asshole,” the girl yelled, voice piercing your ears. you could make her frame out, definitely wasn't any of the past three girls that came in. she was much smaller than yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest but to avail as she continued to yell and cry. “you think fucking my best friend is funny, asshole? or the other sluts you have in here every fucking night? or the whore in your bed at seven in the morning?”

you scrunched your face up, offended at the assumption, but you remained in your position, not wanting them to notice your presence in case the situation worsened. “you better watch that fucking mouth of yours,” you heard yoongi respond. he didn't yell at her, he didn't hit back. his voice was almost stoic. “she's not a fucking whore, she's my roommate and she's sleeping, so either be quiet or get the fuck out.” you were almost pleased with his answer, it was the closest thing you'd ever get to him being nice to you. unfortunately, she didn't like that answer at all.

“get fucked, you son of a bitch,” was the last thing she said before leaving, and she didn't go quietly. she left the dorm with heavy footsteps and a deafening slam of the door. yoongi paused, reaping the insult with only a second of eerie calmness. when the wave of calm had passed, you felt your body jolt as he threw the television's remote control at the door, muttering a string of angry curses as he did so. only then did he turn around, watching the way you stared in surprise.

he tilted his head back down, almost as if he felt sorry, “sorry if i woke you up, go back to bed.” you shook your head, pushing the blanket off as you swung your legs off the bed. it was much too late to go back to sleep anyway. “all good, i gotta get to class anyway.” he raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter as he pressed another cigarette to his lips. you watched him light it up in shock, it was still seven in the morning.

“what the fuck kind of classes do you have this early?” you rolled your eyes as you brushed out your hair, getting done only what was necessary before leaving for your morning lecture. “management accounting,” you murmured a response. he raised his eyebrows, keeping his distance as he blew smoke into the air.

“studying finance, really?” you nodded in response, unable to tell if he was impressed or disgusted. “that's cool,” he said softly. “my step-dad studied finance, too. says it's a pain in the ass.”

perhaps you had were too comfortable in that moment, perhaps you were just too tired and out of it to register what was coming out of your mouth. “my mom studied finance, she was really good at it,” your eyes had locked, but only for a second. it wasn't long enough to carry too much significance, but not short enough to go unnoticed. you coughed, “i'm gonna go to class.” he nodded silently, watching you grab what you needed before heading towards the door. he watched you leave for your lecture, cigarette still pressed to his lips, but not before opening the window.

your classes had lasted longer than you had anticipated, the one hour mark stretching for another two hours. by the time you had finally finished, you felt the second wave of exhaustion flood your system. the morning wasn't even through, and you were ready to give up and go back to bed, but you couldn't. as you left the classroom, dreading whatever your schedule had in store for you next, you felt an arm sling around your shoulders as you walked down the hallway.

“hey, loser,” taehyung cooed in your ear, ruffling your hair as you scoffed, delivering a playful slap to his arm. “going to your morning classes like a good little geek, aren't you?” you rolled your eyes as you peeked at your schedule, smiling as you realized your next class was with your friend. “remember those words when you're working for me in ten years, jackass.”

he feigned offense as he placed his hand on his forehead in a dramatic fashion. “so so cruel, i would truly rather work at a gas station.” you couldn't help but laugh as you both made your way into the next classroom. you couldn't help but admire how elegant the classrooms were, truly a hit or miss product of capitalism. unfortunately, you weren't given much time to admire as you both stopped in your tracks in the middle of the room.

“min yoongi taking english literature,” taehyung was the first to react, equally as surprised as you were. he laughed as he walked up to his friend, who was seated in the back row, arms crossed with a faint smile on his face. “you do realize the class doesn't come with a free ashtray, right?” you faintly trailed behind him as they dapped each other up, the most unnecessary display of masculinity, you thought.

“yeah, don't be too shocked, my parents aren't paying for me to smoke all day,” yoongi responded. his faint smile grew more and more faint as he watched you come up behind taehyung. his gaze switched from you to him. “you two friends?”

you had opened your mouth to say something along the lines of “none of your fucking business,” but your friend was much quicker than you. taehyung wrapped his arm around your shoulders once more, ruffling your hair as you protested. “(y/n)? no, she's my hostage, as you can see.” you sighed in defeat, knowing it was no use. “you're such an ass,” you hissed. yoongi didn't say a word, he just stared. his gaze continued to flicker, but he remained quiet. even as you found your seat next to taehyung, just across from yoongi, he stayed quiet. silent, though his gaze never left the two of you, and you could almost feel it.

morning classes seemed to be the last of your problems as the day went on. everything was normal until you returned to your dorm, the panic you had been fighting since last night finally settling as you checked the time. you had exactly an hour to get ready before taehyung would come to pick you up. exactly an hour to find an outfit, put some decent makeup on, and get the courage to not pussy out. yoongi was nowhere to be found as you entered the dorm.

your wardrobe wasn't necessarily limited, as you had brought everything that could fit you. anything that couldn't was given to charity before you rented out the house, it was the smartest thing to do. you kept everything in a narrow closet, alongside some jewellry your mother had kept in a dainty box. it was a weird sensation, even after so many years, running your fingers through the fabric would never not strain your heart. you gulped back the melancholic nostalgia as you raked through the clothes. finally, you pulled out a dress hanging from above, one that had caught your eye.

it was anything unlike you had ever worn, because it wasn't yours. it was a dress your mother had worn when she was just a bit younger than you. despite what she believed in, she was the life of the party, unlike you. she knew how to let loose, and she wasn't afraid to express herself through her clothes. the dress was almost skimpy, she loved giving men the wrong impression. she loved knowing they could look because, they'd be looking either way, but they could never have her. she was in control, and the dress was gorgeous. a gold dress with thin straps, entirely tight and made to hug the body of whoever chose to wear it. it wasn't what you were used to, not at all. you loved the fact that it was pretty, but you loved the fact that your mother felt pretty in it even more.

if it wasn't her dress, you were entirely sure you wouldn't have liked it. the sensation of putting it on and embracing it was even weirder than the feeling of finding it. nonetheless, you slipped into the dress as you stood in front of the mirror. the dress was even more beautiful on you rather than in your hands. it was just as you imagined—tight, hugging every part of your body from your chest to your thighs, but beautiful. the light from the room did it more than enough justice, it glimmered.

even as you did your makeup, you couldn't help but give all your attention to the dress. it made you feel warm on the inside, the fact that you had a part of your mother clinging to your skin. it was as if she had never left. when you finished, with your face touched up, the heels you wanted, and the gold ring on your finger, all you could do was admire the dress in the mirror.

“holy shit,” were the words that finally snapped you back to reality, your body jolting as your head turned to the source of the sound. you hated how bad your instincts were when you were distracted, it was one of the reasons why taehyung could tease you as much as he did without you reacting. you froze, not knowing what to do.

“shit, i didn't mean to scare you, i'm sorry,” yoongi continued. he was equally as frozen as you were, having stopped himself in his tracks as he stared at you, eyes scanning you from head to toe. “it's just that you look really nice. the dress is—really nice.”

you almost felt bad for staying quiet. it wasn't that you were ungrateful, you just didn't know what to say. for a moment amidst your silence, yoongi continued to admire you for a moment longer, turning on his heel when he realized you had gone mute. “wait,” you practically blurted out, stopping him in his tracks once more. “thank you. it was my mom's.”

he didn't turn back around, but he remained in place as he felt his heart tighten at your words. “doesn't fit her anymore?” his tone was almost hopeful, as if he was hoping that would be the case. you went quiet for a second, before the answer came out entirely too quickly, as if you had thrown it up. “it would've if she was still here. she passed away, few years ago.”

you regret it the second it had come out, but that was the thing about word vomit; just like regular vomit, you could never take it back. now, it was his turn to be silent. you were entirely sure that you had creeped him the fuck out, but he felt that it was far from that. his heart tightened, it wasn't the answer he was hoping for. he responded as he turned around, finally facing you. “i'm sorry,” he murmured. “my dad passed away some years back, too. storm was bad.” he had mentioned his step-father, but never his actual dad. you felt for him, and he felt for you.

you opened your mouth, ready to offer some form of support, but the distinct pounding on the door was quick to cut you off. “come in,” yoongi muttered out, loud enough for whoever it was to here. taehyung wasted no time opening the door, practically cheering as he came in, unable to read the room.

“is my hostage ready?” his voice had dropped a few octaves as he neared the end of the question, walking into the room as he locked eyes with you. it was something about you in the dress rather than the dress itself, and yoongi was quick to notice his reaction.

“what're you doing here?” he asked taehyung, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes at his shell-shocked reaction. for a second, he focused. “i'm here for (y/n), we're going to the wang party.” never had you heard of that name in your life.

yoongi raised an eyebrow before turning back to you. “you didn't say you were going to jackson wang's shitty frat party,” he sounded almost displeased. you shrugged, “what's it to you?” you and taehyung exchanged a glance as yoongi scoffed, the agitation expanding.

“his entire frat has a thing for roofies and rape,” he paused to shoot taehyung a look. “but i'm sure your friend already told you about that.”

it was your turn to shoot taehyung a look, who already had his hands up. “you really think i'd let something happen to her?” he asked, his tone slightly colder than usual. yoongi scoffed at the rhetorical question, “go on, then,” was all he uttered out.

you knew you didn't need any help, and that you were perfectly capable of handling yourself, which included the decisions you made. still, it didn't change the fact that leaving the dorm held more tension than it was supposed to. taehyung shut the door as you left, leaving yoongi in distress that he chose not to make obvious. instead, he chose to ignore the way it nagged him as he turned the television on, hoping it would just go away.

“roofies and rape? you guys are such a fucking cliché,” you muttered as you made your way down the hall with your friend. as oblivious as you were, for taehyung, it was a blessing, because you failed to notice the glances sent your way. he thought you were gorgeous, he thought the dress was gorgeous, up to the point where he could barely register what you were saying. “okay, yeah, ignore yoongi. i told you, i'm not gonna let anything happen, no way.” you knew he wouldn't, but you couldn't shake the feeling of unease as taehyung knocked on the door. the way yoongi acted, the way he talked, it was such a drastic and quick shift.

the generic music and cheers weren't audible until the door opened, you began wondering who you had to ask to get a thick door like that for some very necessary sound blockage. the guy who opened the door was familiar, you were sure you had seen him around campus before. “what's up, jackson?” they greeted each other with a laugh before the guy turned to you, with an almost unsettling spark in his eyes as he did so.

“good to see you, tae,” he spoke a little louder in order to combat the loud music. “and who do we have here?” the flickering colorful lights lit up the room, and you could make out what seemed to be hundreds of people in there, much to your disbelief. there was no logical reason for there to be that many people at one dorm party.

you introduced yourself, a friendly but equally forced smile on your face. “yeah, you're yoongi's roommate, aren't you?” you nodded in response, and you could tell that jackson wasn't too pleased with your roommate. “we should get you a drink then, make it easier to deal with him.” you feinged a laugh as you agreed, shooting taehyung a desperate look. you didn't need to say anything as you followed jackson in, your friend has already burned holes in the back of his head with his glare.

“i'll get us drinks, is that cool?” he could've sworn he saw jackson's face flash with disappointment, but the host obliged, nonetheless. you knew it was the best way for you to not get your virginity taken by the proclaimed roofie rapist, but you couldn't help but panic as taehyung left, even if it was for a good cause.

everybody was a sweaty, drunk mess. the party had started a mere fifteen minutes ago, yet the dorm was packed to the brim with careless, leering students looking to blow some steam off. you found yourself with your pressed against the wall as you created as much distance as possible. “i'm guessing it's your first frat party,” jackson said, only a few feet away from you. you avoided eye contact as best as you could, though you could barely hear him. “first party in general,” you corrected him. “not really my type of scene.”

he chuckled as he closed a few inches of distance off between you two. “that's what i figured,” you quite literally had nowhere to go, with the wall pressing into your back. “must be why you came with your boyfriend, right?” you laughed, but it wasn't in a mocking way, as if you had taken slight offense. “no, taehyung's not my boyfriend, i don't do boyfriends.” you made sure to put emphasis on the last bit.

jackson raised his eyebrows, taking a mere step closer as the lights flashed. he wasn't an unattractive guy, but you needed to take caution. “all the girls here tend to come with their boyfriends,” he gestured towards the many couples easily spotted behind him, all of them a sweaty mess of hormones, grinding and kissing without a care in the world. “rumor's going around that i'm not a nice guy, so they wanna be careful,” you couldn't tell if he was covering his tracks or not, but he was too close to your face, and the alcohol on his breath was no consolation. “what about you? you think i'm a nice guy?”

you couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, and you truly didn't know how to answer. his eyes bored into yours as a smirk played on your face, your mouth open but no word vomit. before you could waste another second thinking, you glanced at his side, watching taehyung stride over with two drinks, as if on time.

“here you go,” he broke the silence, and relief washed over you. once again, jackson attempted to mask his disappointment with a smile. taehyung handed you a glass of something clear, strong. you knew it was strong, whatever it was, but the tension was so cruel, you couldn't help but down the contents of the cup, as if to ease how unsettled you felt.

whatever it was left a disgusting taste in your mouth, almost like nail polish. your friend watched you, almost concerned, while jackson let out a laugh. “i have a feeling it isn't your first time,” a comment that earned him a glare and a half. you shook your head, “i'm not a drinker,” you argued. “but i'll take more of it.”

this time, taehyung pulled you to his side. “great idea, let's go,” he urged, earning him the third look of disappointment of the night, but he paid no mind. he knew that no reaction, was the best reaction. a frown formed on your face as he dragged you through the tight crowd, leading you to the coolers on the wooden table. he shot you a look, “stay away from jackson,” was all he said as he passed you another drink, this time, a can from the cooler. something less strong to kill the burning sensation in your throat. all you could do was nod.

by the time you had gotten your fair share of drinks down your system, the atmosphere around you began to shift drastically. it was less tense, more refreshing. the more lightheaded you felt, the easier it was to let loose. the worse your vision had become, the more flushed you felt as your blood pumped. you had left taehyung's side, the succumbing to the foreign feeling as you joined the crowd despite his calls of disapproval. you knew he'd come after you, but you didn't care. all you could focus on was absolutely nothing. you just liked the way it felt, swaying to the music as if nothing mattered. unfortunately, everything mattered, and not everyone was as unaware as you were. jackson watched you from the sidelines, and he was focused, despite the many drinks that were clashing in his system. he couldn't not focus on you.

as the night wore on, situations varied. in one dorm, the music was loud. the flashing lights provided no sanctuary, and the drinks were practically freezing despite the immense heat. in one dorm, everybody was having a fantastic time. in another dorm, the silence was deafening.

yoongi had put out what may have been his final cigarette of the night. his throat had grown tight, and his stomach had started to churn. he knew it wasn't because of the cigarettes, no. he had put so many of them out just to ease the aching concerns in his mind as he watched the clock tick. a minute had past, followed by an hour. then, another hour. by the time the box was empty, it was almost midnight, and he couldn't think. with his fingers intertwined, nose pressed against them, he let out a sigh. why were you still there? why hadn't you come back yet? did something happen? it was all he could think about. it wasn't that he cared, he just didn't want anything to happen to you; it'd put his reputation in a tough spot, seeing as you were his roommate and all. at least, that's what he wanted to believe in.

the sound of the clock ticking was almost mocking, as was the way the hand moved in the slowest fashion possible. when another fifteen minutes had passed, he glanced at the door, hoping he'd see you stumble in. maybe not sober, but alive and untouched. when the last speck of hope faltered, he found himself pulling his weight off the couch. “fuck this,” he practically spat, snatching the door keys off the drawer before making his way out.

you were unaware of what was happening behind the door, outside of your makeshift sanctuary. you had finally reached the point of betrayal, only then could you see why you had avoided alcohol for so long. as your head span, so did the room. the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had quickly replaced the short-lived euphoria you had felt up until then. as your dancing faltered, you found yourself tumbling in the opposite direction, practically tripping over your own two feet.

before you could cause yourself any harm, you felt a familiarly unfamiliar touch embrace your waist, preventing you from falling onto your back. for a second, everything went quiet, relief coursing through your veins. the relief was as short-lived as the bliss. “caught you just in time, didn't i?” you heard jackson murmur, his breath hot against your ear. your vision was blurry, and you were slurring your words as if you had a lisp. you didn't want him to know how drunk you were, you didn't want him to take advantage of it, but he was no fool. “yeah, thanks'o much,” he only chuckled in response.

in an attempt to pull yourself away from him, you found yourself staring at him face-to-face, as his grip never left your waist. you could barely make out his figure, let alone muster the strength to run away. your mouth was open, but it was as if your brain was too slow to form any sentences. “feel bad, don't you?” his voice was soft, almost comforting but borderline mocking. all you could do was nod. “we should go, get you taken care of. my friend's gotta spare room, yeah?”

your hands were pressed up against his chest, as if in attempt to push away from him, but no force was emitted. under any other circumstances, you'd have had no problem leaving, but things just weren't playing in your favor. he smirked, leaning in towards your face as his hot breath fanned your neck, nose grazing the side of your jaw. you pressed your eyes shut, hoping it would all go away, but it never did.

“it's a shame your friend left you here,” he practically purred in your ear. his fingers grazed your collarbone as his free hand slid down your hip, reaching to cup your ass as he let out a sigh at the feeling. “pretty thing like you, nothing good's bound to happen, right?” you couldn't fight back. for the first time in forever, you couldn't fight back, and you hated it. you hated how you were at his disposal, there for him to use without a care in the world. you kept your eyes shut, still hoping it would all stop and go away. and finally, it did.

it didn't go away quietly—within seconds, you could feel a tight grip ripping you away from jackson, a force so aggressive, you felt your heart stop for a split second. you felt as if you didn't need to second-guess who it was, thinking taehyung had finally located you and came to your rescue, but your suspicions were denied once you turned around. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” despite being free from his grasp, jackson's yell made you wince. he came closer once more, but he didn't face you this time.

yoongi came just as close as he did, mere inches away from his face as he levelled with him. “dunno, jackson, she looks pretty drunk to me,” he sneered in his face. you were behind yoongi, with one of his arms pressing into your front in an attempt to block the distance between you and jackson. by that point, the music had started to falter, and people were growing more and more interested in the scene that was unfolding. “you can take the roofies and rape bullshit somewhere else, i'll fucking kill you and you know it.”

for a second, jackson almost seemed hesitant to react, as if he was scared of the man in front of him. that second passed, but it didn't go unnoticed before he chose his next words, “i should leave my bullshit here and fuck her 'till she's sober, in case you wanted to watch.” had he chosen anything else to say, maybe the situation wouldn't have escalated the way it did so fast. because, in one swift motion, jackson plummeted into the ground beneath his feet, his neck bending backwards in an almost animated way as yoongi's fist collided with the bottom of his jaw.

“holy shit,” was all you could breathe out, screams emitting from the crowd of people behind you as you watched jackson's bloody gums shine under the lights. your body told you to move forward, pressing into yoongi's arm as you took a step towards jackson. the man beside you almost instantly looked back at you as he pushed you off with just enough force to make you stumble back.

for a second, you and yoongi locked eyes. your eyebrows furrowed, a look of concern in your eyes mixed with the profound melancholy of a lack of thoughts. your brain was moving too slow, you thought you looked stupid, but he thought you looked beautiful. it pissed him off how beautiful you looked, and it was all you could see in his eyes. anger, anger, anger. anger, and a speck of something else that you couldn't quite figure out.

“you've gotta be fucking joking,” your head snapped towards the source of the sound, and you spotted taehyung rushing to your side. first, all of his anger was directed towards jackson, but the anger quickly shifted to your roommate once he realized jackson had been dealt with. “where do you get off shoving her?” yoongi scoffed at the question, watching the way your friend came up to you from behind, his annoyingly protective hands cupping your shoulders as he watched you, hoping to see you were okay.

“where do you get ditching her in a place like this?” was yoongi's response. everything went quiet, too quiet, as he and taehyung locked eyes. you were afraid, too afraid that your friend would end up in the same position as jackson. “it's crowded, i went to the bathroom and couldn't find her,” taehyung's defense was reasonable, as you had given him permission to go, promising you'd be fine for a minute or so before making your way to the dance floor. yoongi laughed, but there was no humor to be traced, “that's funny seeing as i found her the second i came in here.”

the silence physically made your stomach twist, and they could both see it from the way your abdomen clenched as you bent forward. people had started whipping their phones out, snapping photos ane taking videos as hushed whispers began to fill the air. “let's get you out of here,” taehyung murmured, ignoring what yoongi said as to avoid any further discomfort, but you knew yoongi. everybody knew him. as your friend pulled you by one arm, leading you towards the exit, you both stopped in your tracks. from your other side, yoongi kept his grip on your hand tight. you couldn't fully grasp the situation, but his unfamiliar touch had a different feeling than jackson's. they were both foreign, but only one was welcomed.

“go home, taehyung,” yoongi uttered out, and oncr again, they locked eyes. the tension was palpable, and you couldn't stand the way their cold gazes matched one another so well. when taehyung's eyes left his, they met yours. you wanted to go home so bad, the situation was killing you from the inside. so, you held his gaze and nodded. he let out a sigh as he let your arm go, ever so hesitantly. “i'll call you,” was what he said before he finally turned on his heel. yoongi practically sneered—“no, you won't,” was what he so badly wanted to say.

the morning which had followed was no easier than the previous night. you couldn't remember the last time you felt so sore, the pounding in your head never seeming to ease. you blinked, more than what was deemed natural, as you opened your eyes to the blinding sunlight. you could hear your roommate, but had yet to see him. “weather's getting colder,” was what you could make out as you propped yourself onto your elbows. “enjoy the sun while it lasts.” unfortunately, he had a point. you stopped straining your eyes, allowing the sunlight to do its work. now, you could see him, standing next to the open window with a cigarette in his hand.

“what time is it?” you asked, exhaustion laced in your voice as your brain had begun picking up the pieces of last night's rezendevous. “about ten,” your head snapped, realizing you had missed two of your morning classes. “but don't even think about going anywhere.” you looked up to meet his gaze as he blew smoke out the window.

your whole body was tense, and only when you stepped out from under the covers did you realize just how right he was about the weather. “why's it so fucking cold?” you couldn't help but ask, the borderline freezing weather leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “it's almost winter,” yoongi responded, just as dryly. “fucking hate winter.” you let out a humorless laugh, as if to agree. if there was one thing to agree on, it was that.

your phone vibrated on your desk, and as you peered over to see who had been bugging you so early in the morning, taehyung's face flashed on the screen once more. “so annoying,” yoongi spoke once more. “he's been doing that all morning.” you shot him a look as you scurried to pick up your phone, “and you didn't think to answer him?” you asked, watching him take the last drag of his cigarette. he shrugged you off, earning an eye roll as you finally picked up taehyung's call.

“thank god, everything okay?” you heard his panicked voice from the other side, before even getting a chance to greet him. “yeah, just woke up,” you murmured, your heart pounding as you recalled just how bad it had gotten the night prior. you could recall the drinks, the lights, jackson. most importantly, you could recall yoongi, and how he had rushed in, potentially stopping you from getting assaulted. the phone was pressed against your ear as you looked up to meet his eyes once more. from the way he looked at you, you knew he recalled it just as well. because, he looked at you as if he wanted nothing to happen to you.

“i'm really sorry for leaving, i should've held it in a little longer,” your friend's apologetic voice rang once more. you shook your head as if he was there, but your eyes never left yoongi's, “no. tae, it's alright. it would've happened either way, it's not your fault.” you could've sworn yoongi's gaze dropped at the mention of his name, but either way, the eye contact had finally broken. you spoke to your friend a minute longer, dismissing his apologies and promising you'd see each other for lunch. he wanted you to spend it with him and his friends, seeing as that would be much safer than being alone. you complied.

when you finally hung up, you allowed yourself to face reality once more. “there's advil in the cabinet,” yoongi spoke. this time, his tone was colder than anticipated. you thanked him, allowing yourself to get ready for whatever it was the universe had in store for you.

by the time lunch had rolled around, you found yourself waiting for your friend once more. this time, for a much safer setting. taehyung and his friends normally spent that period outside, taking up a bench or two while they hung out. as you walked with him, you could feel just how unfamiliar and harsh the air had grown. he noticed your discomfort, but said nothing, as you were near the spot anyway.

you couldn't recognize any of his friends. sure, you had seen them around campus. maybe even in a class or two, but you knew none of them personally. all but one. as you walked up to the bench, yoongi was the last to notice you, but the first to meet your gaze. “this is (y/n), she's gonna be joining us today,” taehyung introduced you, and you forced a smile. the smile was returned as the boys introduced themselves, all but one. yoongi remained silent, but never took his eyes off you. all of the boys were locals, all from daegu, but all of them seemed to harbor the same personality as taehyung, regarding the rich people bullshit. they seemed nice, down-to-earth, until the questions rolled in.

“you were at that party last night, weren't you?” one of the boys, who had introduced himself as dongwon, asked. though hesitant, you nodded, earning a sound of astonishment from him. “yeah, jackson's a real asshole. he didn't put his hands on you, did he?” you tensed up at the thought, with dongwon earning a look of disapproval from taehyung. you weren't the only one uncomfortable—from the corner of your eye, you could see yoongi fidget with his fingers, perhaps at the mention of what went down last night.

“no, not really,” you responded, recalling the way he had you backed up against the wall, the way his fingers so desperately waited for further access beside your waist. “not really?” dongwon repeated, as if confused. “what exactly do you mean by that?”

you shrugged, as if hesitant to go into further detail. “he didn't get to do much touching, nothing too bad,” you paused, watching the way nearly all of them listened carefully. “tried to kiss me, had his hand on my ass but that's really all—” before you could finish your thought, everybody's attention shifted to yoongi, who had pushed himself off the bench and onto his feet, throwing his can into the bin behind him more aggressive than necessary. “yoongi, what's your deal—” once again, you found yourself being cut off by the same man. once he was on his feet, his grip was on your elbow, practically dragging you away from the group and back into the school.

you thrashed, but it was no use, you couldn't pull yourself out of his grasp. he was too strong and too determined, as he pulled you into the first empty hallway he could find. once he had found the spot, you found yourself in an all too familiar position, with your back pressed against the wall. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” you hissed, but your voice was weaker than usual. you didn't know if it was because of last night's antics, or because of the current tension. “what's wrong with me?” he repeated, tone equally as harsh. “where do you get off talking about shit like that?”

now, you were just confused. “what the hell are you talking about? he asked me a question.” yoongi rolled his eyes, you truly had no idea why he was so mad. especially at you, what was it that you said wrong? “why didn't you call me when he touched you?” this time, his tone was more gentle, and the confusion had been replaced with shock. “if i had come in a second later,” he stopped himself mid-sentence, not wanting to imagine just how much the situation could have escalated.

your face softened at his words, it was almost like he felt guilty for not having stopped you when he had the chance. “you came,” you said. “you came, and i'm grateful you did.” your words comforted him, just a little bit. in the end, the important part was that someone intervened. even if it happened to be your roommate. for a moment, you saw him smile, but perhaps it was too much. he knew it was, so he followed it up with an eye roll, “it was a pain in the ass, had to watch over you, missed breakfast and lunch and everything,” he paused, as if the lightbulb in his head came to light. “you owe me lunch.”

you owed him lunch, and it took every cell in you to avoid ripping his head off his neck. it was the least you could do, it really was. it wasn't like you didn't know how to cook, of course you did. it was one of the first things your mother had made sure she taught you on time. but it was something about the almost smug smile he was wearing as he made himself comfortable on the chair, while you whisked away by the stove. “and don't even think about poisoning it,” you heard his taunting voice from behind. “the death penalty's legal now.”

for a moment, you even considered it. you opted for one of your mother's recipes, seeing as your roommate wasn't specific with what he wanted. truly, he didn't care. he just wanted to eat, with the appetizer being an excuse to fuck around with you. the specific recipe you were using had been passed around from one generation, all the way to your mother. the stew itself was something anyone could make, but nobody could make it the way your did. in fact, it was so special, the only people she ever shared it with were you and your father.

“it smells good,” yoongi murmured, his eyes glued to your frame as you carefully removed the pot off the stove, turning the heat off. you smiled to yourself as you retrieved a bowl from the csbinet above, “thanks.” never had you tried the recipe out for yourself, it was your first time and you were determined to make it work.

he waited patiently as you scooped the stew out, dumping it into the bowl. he watched your every move, from the way you pushed the loose strands of your hair away from your forehead, to how you carried the bowl with grace he swore was there. the stew was served with a bowl of rice for him, and a side of radishes. you heaved a sigh as you sat next to him, hands sore. everything was there, picture perfect for him, but he kept his focus on you.

“well,” you urged. “go on, then.” only then did his gaze drop. he stared at the red liquid, allowing the spicy scent to grace his nostrils. it was comforting, and all too familiar to him. the scent itself sent a sharp jab to his chest, he was too familiar with it.

his suspicions didn't ease as he scooped a spoonful of the stew, he had reached a new level of excitement. you analyzed him carefully, hoping for a promising reaction. it was exactly what you were going to get. “holy shit,” he uttered out, his mouth full. his instincts hadn't failed him, the scent was familiar and the taste only confirmed what he had been thinking. “is this your recipe?” for a second, you hesitated, but shook your head. “no,” you assured softly. “it was my mother's, why? is it any good?”

the answer itself was all too obvious as he continued to fill his mouth with the product, swallowing within seconds just to help himself some more. it was as if he hadn't eaten in years. “it's amazing,” he praised, and your face lit up. you couldn't help but smile as he neared the end of the bowl. “it tastes exactly the one my step-dad used to make.” you were skeptical, as there was no way that was possible, but took the compliment.

“generational recipe,” you explained, a twinge of grief to your voice. “it was all we ate when winter came along.” the memories weren't as pleasant as the taste itself; you found yourself recalling the days there truly wasn't anything else to eat, but you never complained. you never got tired of the taste.

yoongi seemed to notice the way your tone shifted, even while draining what was left of the meal. “i get it,” was what he found himself saying. at first, you thought it was just empty comforting. “the cold took a toll on us, too. fucking hate the winter.” out of all people, you never imagined opening up to min yoongi, let alone him opening up to you. let alone him understanding you. for a second, there was nothing but silence, and the way you found yourself staring at him. you had been looking at him with the same eyes since you've met him, but this time was different. this time, you looked at each other in a way you never have before.

in a split second, the moment had passed. your phone had started to ring again, and you found yourself cursing whoever it was. taehyung, probably. you swore you'd kill him if it was him pestering you again, but it wasn't. your screen flashed, reading “no caller id” in white, bold letters. yoongi shot you a concerning glance going unnoticed as you excused yourself, leaving the room.

once you were a room away from yoongi, you answered the call with a simple, “hello?” you didn't know exactly what you were expecting to hear, nor who. maybe someone had the wrong number, or it was a spam caller. you had your list of possibilities and expectations, all but one. “(y/n)? is it you?” the voice on the other line was deep, scratchy, rough. above all else, it was familiar. the second you heard it, your blood ran cold and your heart grew weak. it had never crossed your mind, so you refused to believe it was happening. “yes,” you responded weakly, weary of your roommate in the other room. “who is this?”

in the back of your mind, you knew exactly who it was. you could see his face, and you could hear his voice. you had done your best, for years on end, to block it from your memory, but to no avail. “(y/n), you know exactly who this is,” he said, voice all but steady. your fingers quivered, breathing heavy as you did your best to keep it together. “please, sweetheart. i'm back at the house, where's your mother? where are you? come over, we have to talk.” and for a split second, the room was silent. you couldn't muster up the words you so badly needed to say, not while you blood was hot, not while your head was heavy. the shock had finally turned to anger, and you couldn't deal with it.

“you asshole,” you finally breathed out, your eyes stinging with tears that threatened to spill. “you have some fucking nerve, you asshole.” it was all that was going through your head—asshole, asshole, asshole. how could he possibly have the courage, after so long?

from the other line, your father heaved a sigh, as if symapthetic. almost as if he was ashamed. “honey, i know i'm the last person you wanna hear from right now—” you had reached your limit, patience growing thin. you knew being rational wasn't an option, not with your knees threatening to give out from under you. “she's dead, you son of a bitch,” your voice was barely above a whisper. finally, he went quiet. it was your turn to talk. “she's dead and it's all your fault, dead. she's dead, you left her, and she's dead.”

so badly did you want to keep it together, but it was no use. your whispering had gone an octave up, hands furiously quivering as the tears came running down your face. your lips were swollen, hair plastered to your forehead with sweat as you failed against the sobs that were escaping from your throat. “i'm sorry,” were the words that finished you off. with a sob, you finally hung up. you should've done it the second you heard his voice, but it was too late. his words echoed in your head, even as you tossed your phone onto the floor, ignoring the sound of fatal cracks. you couldn't keep it together, you couldn't hold it in.

he had watched the whole scene unfold, much to your dismay. you realized it the second you held your head up. tears spilled from your eyes, and you were finally falling apart. yoongi stood there, just feet away. he stared, his eyes wide with shock as he watched you. something had awoken in him as he watched the way you held your face in your hands, sobs rocking your body. he watched you, but not for long. not wall you were so close to collapsing.

your legs were about to give out, but they never did. you were falling, but never did you hit the ground. he was right there, right beside you, arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in so that you wouldn't fall. never in your life had you felt more grateful, more safe. you held onto the fabric of his shirt, and he didn't dare let go of you. you were fragile. in that moment, you were on the verge of breaking, and he wasn't going to let it happen. so, he pulled you close. his arms were wrapped around your frame, hand on the back of your head as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck.

he could feel the way you shook under his touch, and it broke his heart. his heart hurt for you. gentle strokes were delivered to your hair as he hushed you, and all you could do was cry. he didn't stop, not until your sobs died down. “was that your dad?” was what he finally asked, careful with his words as to not worsen the situation. all you could do was nod, and it was enough for him to keep quiet. all he could do was hold you, and that was exactly what he did. it was the comfort you had been longing for.

when you had finally calmed down, when the embrace had broken, you didn't know what to think. you cursed yourself for succumbing to your emotions as quickly as you did, you cursed yourself for breaking down. it made you wonder, what was it that made you feel so safe with him? what was it that made your heart flutter, that put your mind at ease? you were no fool, all you needed to do was remember what was engraved in your mind—cold as ice, hard as stone. never choose men over being alone. it was what had kept you afloat for so long, but it wasn't what was in your heart. it wasn't what made you feel safe, not the way you did with him.

he found himself cursing the way he found himself acting with you. it was unlike him, it was out of character for him. why, all of a sudden? why was he coming to your rescue, eating your meals? why was the urge to protect you stronger than the urge to protect his pride? it was all he thought about, why was it different with you? he didn't like different, different meant unfamiliar. he didn't like how vulnerable he was with you, how safe he felt with you. he never played safe, why start? why risk it all? he needed a distraction, and he was determined to find it.

thankfully, he knew just where to look. that night, you had gone to sleep earlier than usual, with only one thing on your mind. what had happened that day replayed in your head, but only the part you wanted to think about. him. you fell asleep thinking about him, dreading how quiet it was without his presence. he wasn't far, just two dorms over.

“hey,” he greeted almost the second the door opened, as if he was in a rush. he allowed himself to come in, despite the several yelps of disapproval. “got too much on my mind, needed to see you.” he didn't need to do anything, all he wanted was to be distracted. so, he did it the only way he knew how.

the girl scoffed, but closed the door behind him. “you should've called. what? you missed me?” the question sent a chill down his spine. no, no, no. it's what he so badly wanted to say. he didn't miss her, he didn't want her. he didn't need her the way he needed you, but he didn't want to need you. he didn't want to need anybody. to him, everybody was unreliable. everybody was waiting to ruin him. he knew he was making a mistake, but he was ready. above all else, he was ready.

“take your clothes off,” he uttered out. “and you'll see how much i missed you.”

the following morning, you had gotten up earlier than you wanted to. the basket of dirty clothes had filled up again, and someone had to take care of it. when you opened your eyes, yoongi was nowhere to be found. it made you get up faster than usual, panic coursing through your veins as you searched for him. he wasn't there. while you were in your feet, headed towards the basket, he still wasn't there. you tried to calm yourself down, assuring yourself he'd walk through the door soon enough. this time, you were right.

as you picked the basket up, you heard the doorknob jiggle. he had finally come home, just before seven in the morning. he seemed tired, as if he had got done running a marathon. the tiresome expression switched to a look of shock the second he saw you. for a moment, all you did was look at each other. “where've you been?” you finally broke the silence. the question should have been expected, but he didn't know how to answer. how could he, after everything? he gulped, thinking of what to say. so, he did what he did best. he lied.

“drinking with dongwon,” the lie came out smoother than intended, smooth enough for your worries to falter. you only nodded in response. he felt awful for lying, why do it in the first place? you had seen him in much more promiscuous situations with a variety of women, what was the issue now? he knew he couldn't, not after yesterday—after everything. his eyes shifted to the basket in your hands. “taking the clothes down to the washer?” again, all you could do was nod. you had nothing to say, you were just glad he was alright. “would you take this, too?” you watched him gesture to the shirt he had on, and complied.

all you could do was stand there as he peeled his collared shirt off, it was best not to look, but oh so difficult. desperate to ditch the embarrassment, you placed the shirt into the basket, and brushed past him.

the minute you left the room, once again did he curse himself. once time, for what he did. “fuck,” was all he could say.

the washing machine belonged to the campus, and students were free to use it as much as they needed to. people had grown more aware of how challenging it was for students to make it on their own while studying, so they did their best to help. you wanted to make a quick trip, shoving the clothes into the machine as fast as you could, but something caught your eye. all of the clothes in the bin had been worn over and over again, all but yoongi's shirt. he had a different outfit on the previous day, but came back wearing a new shirt. you had presumed it was stained with alcohol, but decided to check, just in case.

maybe things had gotten out of hand while he was drinking, but you didn't remember seeing any stains. the shirt itself was clean, from what you could tell. white stained easily. it wasn't until your hands pulled the collar upwards, did you see what the problem really was. at first, you ignored the pungent smell. the shirt reeked of cheap, fruity perfume that lit your nostrils up, and it made your stomach churn. maybe dongwon had a few girls over to drink with them, it was what you hoped for. why did it matter? it had nothing to do with you. it would've been the best case, but it wasn't. you realized it wasn't the moment you lifted the collar.

the rim of the collar was stained with lipstick. bright pink lipstick. the sight of it made your heart fall, you practically felt it in your stomach. “asshole,” you breathed out, fingers clutching the fabric. you didn't know why it made you so upset, you didn't know why the sight of it made you so angry. why was he lying about it? it wasn't the first time, and you believed it wouldn't be the last. it was all you could think about, and it hurt more than you wanted it to.

you had spent the following weeks ignoring yoongi as best as you could. unfortunately, living with him didn't make it easier for you. you did your best, unable to shake the feeling of betrayal. weeks passed, and you still didn't know why it hurt you as much as it did. you couldn't bare talking to him, afraid of lashing out. losing your temper, everything you had strived for so long.

he had noticed a shift in the atmosphere from that point on, brushing it off at first. maybe you were just having a bad day, is what he had been telling himself the first few days. those days quickly turned into weeks, and nothing was the same. his comments were ignored, even his provocations and jokes. his questions were answered abruptly and coldly. he dismissed the idea of you figuring out what he had done, as he believed there was no way for you to find out, but nothing explained the way you were acting. not even the smoking and closed windows bothered you anymore.

you spent as much time with taehyung as you possibly could. if you had classes, you'd attend them alone and in silence. all your free time was spent with taehyung, not that he minded. he was the only person you told what happened, from start to finish. you told him everything, even the bits he already knew, like what happened at the party.

“you like him, don't you?” he asked the question you had been so scared of facing, let alone answering. you tried to play it off as a joke, laughing it off, but never answering. he watched you carefully, a frown on his face. he didn't need an answer, he knew it just as well as you did. you liked him. he didn't know where to go from there, all he could do was watch you, and every move of yours gave him his answer. you couldn't keep the eye contact, your fingers toyed with your hair as you stayed quiet. he knew you liked him.

that night, he thought about it. he thought about it so much, he found himself standing outside with yoongi, in the cold air. he thought about it so much, he found himself with one of yoongi's cigarettes between his lips. there was something off about him, yoongi saw it. taehyung, who was once one of his closest friends, had grown cold, hostile. taehyung didn't pay mind to how his behavior had grown strange, he only had one thing on his mind.

“she knows,” were the words that broke the silence. yoongi froze, cigarette burning between his lips. he stayed silent, couldn't say a thing. “she knows you fucked that girl.” yoongi scoffed, but he couldn't ignore how fast his heart was pounding. the increasing anxiety wasn't detectable, he did his best to ignore it. “don't know what you're talking about.”

now, it was taehyung's turn to scoff. he didn't make eye contact with his friend, taking a drag of his cigarette as he stared into the night sky. “you're a pussy,” his words finally got the attention he was looking for. “she's this great girl, y'know? she's this beautiful, smart girl and she likes you. and i wish i knew why. but, hey, what do you know? you like her, you like this great girl, but you're too big of a pussy to do anything about it.”

“you don't know shit,” yoongi practically spat at him, too defensive for his own good. he faced his friend, but taehyung remained stoic. in his heart, yoongi knew every bit of it was true. he only returned the stance as he neared the end of his cigarette, throwing it onto the ground beneath him and stepping over it. “you're right, i don't know shit,” taehyung spat back. “you like each other, but don't do shit about it. fuck around with her some more, 'till she realizes she can do better than you.” those were the last words taehyung said to him, before walking away. it took everything in him to not punch yoongi in the face, because he so desperately needed to. he wanted him to realize what was in front of him, he wanted him to realize how lucky he was.

once again, yoongi was left alone. in his heart, he knew every word of it was true, but he couldn't bring himself to come to terms with it. it was something he needed to do, but he didn't want to. he wanted to live in his bubble, with his heart closed off to anyone but him. he needed to be selfish, because it was all he knew, but as the night grew colder and harsher, he knew it wasn't what he wanted to do.

you found yourself in your bed once more, but you couldn't fall asleep. your mind wouldn't shut off, and it pissed you off. you and yoongi had gone another day without speaking, and the silence killed you. he wasn't there, and all you could think about was where he was. you let out a dry laugh, thinking history would be funny enough to repeat itself—maybe he really was out there, wetting his dick again.

that possibility lost some of its credibility when the doorknob began to budge again. like clockwork, you found yourself watching him come in. this time, he was home early, it wasn't even midnight. for a second, you locked eyes. it was quiet, you didn't dare say a word, but you couldn't not look at him. he looked at you, admiring how pretty you were, even at your worst. even with your hair messy, lips swollen, eyes beaming with exhaustion—there was no way you couldn't look good. something in that moment had clicked, and the silence was broken.

“i fucked her,” definitely wasn't the best choice of words, but he needed something to clear the air with. still, you remained quiet, only raising your eyebrows in response. you knew, he knew you knew. “i fucked her and it was a shitty thing to do. i knew it then, and i know it now.”

you stayed quiet, the empathy currently drained from your heart. how could you feel for him? “i fucked her because i needed a way to distract myself,” he paused. “from you. i'm feeling shit i've never felt, and i'm scared of feeling it. when i'm scared, i run. it's all i've ever been doing.”

he stood there, voice steady despite how honest he was trying to be. for a second, you almost understood him. you knew what it was like, running from the same feeling your entire life. it was exactly what you were taught, but never could you have done to anybody what he had done to you. “i really hope she was worth it,” you whispered, just about loud enough for him to hear. she wasn't, he knew she wasn't. she had cost him everything, and he knew there was no coming back from it.

not much had changed as the weeks flew by. nothing but the weather. the colder the weather had gotten, the more hostile you found yourself acting. not just with yoongi, but in general. even with taehyung, you found yourself snapping just to apologize seconds later. he understood, he was patient with you. once it had started to snow, you spent more time inside than outside. seeing the fluffy, white flakes coat the ground was enough for you to get a frostbite. you spent the inside of the campus has truly become a sanctuary, until you and yoongi had started to cross paths once more.

it was only because he had been staying inside just as much. the minute he had woken up to the sight of white, it was official. he didn't even bother looking at the windows, let alone taking a step outside. he only smoked indoors, kept his friends close indoors.

your anger had finally faltered as the time passed, but you and yoongi never really spoke. you had both hoped that whatever it was you were feeling would finally fade, that it was a temporary occurence. you both prayed that one day you'd wake up, and feel nothing for the other. that day never came.

though you had finally made peace with the situation and gained your composure, the weather had lost its. everything up until then had been child's play, with the outside world freezing, but the inside providing comfort. nobody had really expected the drastic change, so nobody was prepared. when the night in question rolled around, it was brutal.

a snowstorm was in the process of unfolding. those who were able to deal with it, dealed by hiding under the covers. the wind rocked the windows, it was brutal. no matter the force, nobody was able to shut them. all the wind did was fight back. the wind howled as flakes of white scattered the dorms, the cold air practically violent. it was the reason you had found yourself on the couch, away from the windows. you were doing your best to ignore it, to block the familiar sounds from your mind. the noises were messing with your head, and the brutal cold brought memories you had no interest in re-living.

your breathing escalated, and all you could do was fight back the tears, reassuring yourself under your breath. you shut yours eyes tight, hoping everything would go quiet. just for a second. it never did. at one point, the howling had started to die down, but the air only grew colder. a new sound had graced your ears, but it wasn't the wind. it wasn't the wind howling. from the corner of your eye, you could spot the source.

yoongi had problems of his own, having taken the spot right next to the window. the covers on the bed offered no comfort, not while everything was unfolding right next to him. the cold was bitter, so unfamiliarly cruel as he rocked himself under the sheets. it was the most unstable he had ever felt, as he bit back his cries, wary of you just feet away from him. he muffled his sobs, but it wasn't enough to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. he hated it, it was killing him.

you listened carefully, unsure of what you were listening to. ever the curious one, you pushed yourself onto your feet, with the blanket engulfing you. he was facing the opposite side, and you were absolutely sure the sounds were coming from him, the closer you grew to him. as you got closer, you could make out the sounds better. you were right, it wasn't the wind howling. you could recognize the crying all too well.

“yoongi,” it was the first time you had spoken to him in a long time. your voice rang like a melody, offering him the slightest comfort amidst everything else. slowly, he found himself turning towards you. as he did, you saw everything much clearer, and your heart skipped a beat. his eyes were swollen, lips puffy, his cheeks slick with tears. “yoongi, are you okay?”

he shook his head, and you couldn't hide the panic in your voice. despite everything, you knew you cared. you cared, he cared. hearing you was almost enough to block everything else out. it was enough for him to ignore how vulnerable he truly was in that moment, and he knew he had reached peak vulnerability. “i fucking hate winter,” he croaked out. all you could do was nod, you nodded and it pained you because you hated it, too. you hated how it took everything from you. “took my dad from me, it was too cold.” you could barely make out what he was saying, but you couldn't believe what you were able to hear. it made your heart sink, and you knew what followed was inevitable.

“it's okay, i promise,” your heart was racing as you sat on the bed, right next to him. cold, he was so cold. despite the blankets, he was freezing. “took my mom from me, yoongi. i get it, i promise i get it.” tears in your eyes threatened to match his own as his expression flashed with shock. it wasn't something you expected to hear from anyone, let alone him. “so fucking cold,” he finally whispered, and you realized just how bad he had it. you realized just how alike you were, so you finally did something so unlike the either of you.

you were careful with your actions, even if they weren't thought through. with a sniffle, you pulled the covers up. not enough to expose him to the cold more than he already had been, but enough to make room. you made enough room and, to his astonishment, you crawled in. you moved into the spot next to him, and neither of you moved. it was unlike any warmth either of you had felt before, none of the covers in the world had anything on the warmth felt in that moment.

you stared at each other with sore, puffy eyes. he watched you with soft eyes, sniffles dying down the minute you were next to him. you were perfect. more perfect than you've ever been. he was hesitant, but he found himself pulling you in. you were just as hesitant, but you found yourself scooting closer to him. nothing mattered anymore. the air surrounding you was still cold, it still hurt, but it was like his body had grown a new mind of its own. his fingers traced the side of your face, pushing strands of your hair away from your eyes. he needed to see you, all of you, and he did. you had never been closer, and you couldn't get enough of it. he was like a furnace to you, even though you were the one warming him. from the inside out.

“i love you,” he finally whispered, and neither of you looked away. he knew he couldn't take back what he said, the same way he knew how much he meant it. the words were foreign, they were words you hadn't heard in a long time. finally, you smiled. “i love you, too.” the shock that spread through his body couldn't be mimicked. for the first time in a long while, he smiled. he smiled back, and it was a genuine smile. one that wasn't provoked by teasing and joking, nothing of the sort. he hadn't been loved in a long time.

the wind stayed consistent, but nothing mattered anymore. it was as if a barrier had formed around the two of you, one that unapologetically emitted the warmest, kindest comfort imaginable. yoongi found himself moving closer to you, if possible, and you knew what was coming. you knew, and you were prepared. you loved him, you hated the cold, and you could never be what you despised the most, so you let him.

with his hand ever so gently in your hair, you allowed yourself to come closer, until the distance finally faltered. his lips pressed against yours, something he had found himself dreaming about for too long. your lips melted, colliding so gently, he swore they were made for each other. he had kissed a countless amount of women, but never like that. every ounce of regret left your body, and all you could do was kiss back. it was what you wanted more than anything. you wanted him.

he stroked your arm gently, his thumb tracing circles on your skin, sending shivers of a different kind down your spine. you looked up at him, feeling your heart race a little faster as you thought about what you wanted to say. he was so warm, so solid and comforting, and you felt a sudden rush of love for him that was almost overwhelming. you took a deep breath and whispered, “i've never done this before.” his eyes searched yours, understanding and patience in their depths. he leaned forward and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “that's okay,” he said, his voice a gentle rumble. “we'll take it slow.”

the room was filled with a tension that was both nerve-wracking and exciting as you both realized the gravity of the moment. you felt a blush spread across your cheeks, but yoongi just held you tighter, his eyes filled with nothing but affection and reassurance.

he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he said, “but are you sure?” his question hung in the air, the only sound the soft rustle of the covers and the muffled sounds of the winter night outside. you nodded, feeling your pulse quicken. “i'm sure,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

yoongi pulled back, looking into your eyes, searching for any hint of doubt. finding none, he leaned in and kissed you softly, his hand moving from your arm to cup your cheek. the kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as you both became lost in the moment. the bed dipped slightly as he shifted his weight, moving to adjust himself beside you, his hand still cradling your face. his eyes searched yours, asking for permission, and you gave it with a shy nod.

he started to kiss your neck, his lips feather-light as they moved down to your collarbone. you felt his hand slowly make its way down your body, and your breath hitched in anticipation. the cold outside was forgotten as the heat between you grew, a warmth that seemed to drive away every other concern. his touch was gentle, exploratory, as if he was learning every inch of you. you felt your body respond, your heart racing and your skin tingling where he touched. his fingers traced the line of your jaw, then moved to the hem of your shirt, his thumbs hooking under the fabric.

you lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head, the cool air of the room making you shiver again. but as soon as the shirt was off, his warmth was back, his chest pressed against yours, his hands running up and down your back in soothing strokes, only to make another appearance, fondling your tits in a way so gentle, even he couldn't believe it. he listened to your soft moans, and it took everything in him to resist pounding you right then and there. the snow continued to fall outside, casting a serene, silent backdrop to the intimate scene unfolding in the warmth of the bedroom. the only sounds were the soft rustle of the covers and the steady beat of two hearts, in sync with each other.

his eyes never left yours as he reached for the button of your pants, his gaze filled with a mix of love and lust. you felt a thrill of excitement and nerves as he undid the button, then the zipper, his hands moving with purpose and care. he slid your pants down, revealing your bare legs to the cool air. you felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your stomach, making you gasp.

the anticipation was almost unbearable, your body trembling with a mix of cold and desire. yoongi took his time, his kisses like a warm embrace against the winter's chill. he reached your navel, and your hips instinctively arched towards him. his eyes never left yours, as if asking for confirmation at every step.

he gently pushed your legs apart, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made you feel cherished. his hand trailed down your inner thigh, and your skin burned with every touch. when his fingers finally reached the place where no one else had been before, you tensed, but his soft, reassuring whispers kept you relaxed. with a feather-light touch, he began to explore, his movements slow and deliberate. each caress against your soaking pussy sent waves of pleasure through you, and your eyes fluttered shut as you moaned softly. the cold air was forgotten, replaced by the warmth of his body and the gentle pressure of his hand.

“fuck, princess, so wet for me,” he murmured, his dick painfully hard, practically begging for you.

as he touched you, he watched your reactions closely, learning what made you gasp, what made you shiver with pleasure. his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. but all he saw was a deep, unspoken trust that made his heart swell with love. you felt your body responding to his touch, and you reached for him, your hands shaking slightly as you pulled his shirt over his head. his skin was hot against your palms, and you traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

the snowfall outside grew heavier, the world outside muffled and distant. the only thing that mattered was the warmth of his body against yours, the feel of his skin under your hands, and the love that was growing stronger with every shared moment.

as he pulled his boxers down, you realized just how unprepared you really were. he could stretch you out as much as he wanted, it still couldn't prepare you for what caught your eye. he was big, and he knew it. he was big and throbbing against the flesh of his abdomen, and a you could do was stare. “it's not gonna fit,” you whispered. despite his laugh, your words only made him harder. the thought of you, so small and fragile under him, breaking because of his cock—it made him desperate for you. yoongi leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “you'll take it, yeah?” you nodded, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. he kissed you again, deep and slow, as if trying to imprint every sensation on your soul. you felt him shift, the bed protesting slightly under his weight as he positioned himself above you. he reached for the condom on the nightstand, his movements sure and practiced. but his eyes never left yours, filled with a tenderness that was almost painful in its intensity.

you felt his hard, pulsing cock against your entrance and it was enough to make you gasp. he let out a sigh, the sight of you so vulnerable for him enough to make him cum on the spot. as he entered you, the world outside disappeared, replaced by the feeling of him filling your pussy up, the sound of your mingled breaths the only music in the room. it was a moment of pain, quickly overshadowed by a deeper, more profound sensation of belonging. you held onto him tightly, your nails digging into his back as he began to move, his rhythm gentle and steady. each stroke was a promise of forever, a declaration of love in the most primal and intimate way possible.

“so fucking tight, holy shit,” he groaned, eyes flashing between the way your pussy sucked him up, so pretty and greedy, and the way your face scrunched up in pleasure, pure pleasure. you and yoongi moved together, each stroke bringing you closer to the precipice of pleasure. your breaths grew ragged, your hearts pounding in unison as you climbed higher and higher. and when you finally fell over the edge, you came all over him. “just like that, all over my dick.”

you were overwhelmed, the foreign feeling gracing you with an irreplaceable euphoria you've so badly been craving. he leaned forward, capturing your lips in yet another messy kiss, his hands erratic. they moved as fast as they could, savoring the way your tits felt in them, the way your fleshy thighs spilled out of them. as he pounded into you, a you could do was moan into his mouth. “so good, fuck, yoongi,” the sound of his name leaving your mouth in such a dirty position was enough to send him over the edge.

he was desperate, his hips slamming into your pelvis as his dick brushed your sweet spot. your walls squeezed him, practically milking him for all he had to offer. his groans grew louder as he neared his high, his thrusts sending your eyes into the back of your head as he savored you. you were all his. “gonna cum, fuck,” he moaned, and he was right. he came with a groan, lost in the way you moaned for him, foreheads pressed against each other. he came into the condom, his dick throbbing into your cunt as he did so. it was good, so good.

when he finally pulled out, you did nothing but stare into each other's eyes. you knew that you had just shared something incredibly special, something that would change everything. but as you looked into his eyes, you also knew that no matter what was to come, you would face it together, wrapped in the warmth of your love, and it was stronger than any storm.

“i love you,” this time, it was your turn to say it. for a second, the fear of him leaving, discarding you like you meant nothing to him, like you were just another girl, became present. you weren't just another girl, you never were. “i love you, too.” it was enough, more than enough. how could you ever be just another girl? he alone wasn't strong enough against the cold, not without you.

✧.*

a/n: i hope this does well because this cliché took so long to write lol!! if it does, i'll do a follow-up, as there's a lot of unfinished business haha. only if it's what the readers want. thank you for reading!!!

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comatosebunny09 · 1 year

Text

You, but with your stomach tying itself in knots at the feel of him between your legs.

At the satiny dance of his hair between your fingers whilst he blisters your sternum with kisses. Eyes, steel blue and nebulous like the Milky Way, never leave yours.

A gasp parts your lips when his mouth drags past your navel, slow yet purposeful as it imparts on a journey further south, grazing the line of your panties. He huffs a breath against your clothed center as he works his way down, down, down, littering the fat of your inner thighs with light nips and kisses. His hands slothfully roam over the parts of you his mouth couldn’t conquer until they curve around the bones of your hips, anchoring you to the mattress.

Solar flares of pleasure explode across your skin at the sensation of his nose nudging the space where lip meets thigh, your outer labia plump and spilling beyond the confines of your underwear. You sit up on your elbow to watch through shuttered lashes. A curious little thing, still grasping a fistful of his tresses whilst he tugs the frail fabric to one side, revealing the sticky, hot mess of your cunt to his predatory gaze.

He groans like a man starved, finally blessed with a meal at the ripeness of you. At the sight of your pussy, pretty and pulsating just for him. He licks his lips; sinks his teeth into his plush lower lip, his gaze flickering to yours. A virile hand presses against the meat of your belly, forcing your already arching hips back against the sheets.

He chuckles at your eagerness, a fond smile twitching his lips. “Slow down, baby,” he husks, his voice low like thunder brewing on the horizon. “We got all night, yeah?”

Somehow, the prospect of Leon between your thighs for the rest of the evening invokes a bitten-off sound from your throat and makes your pussy clamp down on itself. At his urging, you relax against the bed, your breath hitching in anticipation of what will come…

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #re4r leon x reader #leon x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #resident evil 4 smut #I listened to jackson wang’s come alive on repeat

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powzapboom · 1 year

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Spoil | Jackson Wang (m)

PAIRING: JacksonxF!Reader

SUMMARY: Porn with little plot that's indulgent lowkey lol;

Your arrangement was simple. Two busy people who didn't have much free time, made time for eachother when they could.

Inspired by: "Dway" by Jackson Wang

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Mature language, explicit sexual content (18+), protected sex, oral (m/f), little bit of fluff(?), fingering (f), edging (f)

A/N: First time posting my writing! Feedback is always welcomed.

Jackson was relieved when he finally got out of the airport. The flight wasn't bad by any means, and he had gotten plenty of work done on his trip. But now, he could finally relax. Unwind. So, he texted you as soon as he got into the car. He would've called, but he didn't want to spook you. When you gave the okay to call, he wasted no time dialing your number. It was a short and sweet phone call, with a surface level greetings and subtle eagerness. He didn't hesitate to invite you for a visit. You accepted of course, packing your bag.

Yourr arrangement was simple. Two busy people who didn't have much free time, made time for eachother when they could.

He picked you up, like he always did, and drove you to his place. Sure, it had been some time since you last saw eachother, but you weren't unfamilar with how this work. How the two of you worked. He practically broke any ice between you with an invitation to the shower.

The water poured out of the shower head softly, mimicking the sound of rain. The glass of Jackson's walk-in shower fogged up completely from the steam of the hot water. You both preferred hot showers. Jackson could feel his body relax as the water hit his back. He reached for the body wash on a nearby shelf, purposely ignoring the loofah next to it. He squeezed plenty of the soap into his palms. Your back was toward him. He wrapped himself around you, and expertly ran his lathered hands along your body, making sure no spot went untouched. You sigh into his touch as you feel him massage your chest.

"...missed touching you..." he whispered.

You place your hands on top of his, interlacing them.

"I missed your touch..."

You both drop your hands, allowing you to face him again. You look up at him as the water continued to run. Jackson peered down at you, bringing his hands to the sides of your face. He leaned down and pecked your lips. And again. And again, until you were properly kissing. You wrap your hands around his hips, pulling him closer. He pulled away with a sigh, keeping his lips close to yours. Unceremoniously, you turned your head to side, spitting out some some water that got into your mouth. Jackson laughed. You two could've stayed in the shower all night, but that would be a waste of a perfect bed. Jackson finished his shower and stepped out, allowing his house guest some alone time in the shower. You followed close behind, shutting off the water. There was a comfortable silence between you and him for a bit, allowing you to properly get ready for bed.

You woke up first, and hungry. Remembering that you only wore a pair of panties to bed, you reached blindly into you oversized travel bag and pulled out a crop top. You make a pitstop to bathroom before making your way to the kitchen. You roll your eyes at the sight of little to no food in the pantry. Who the fuck has a luxury fridge and no milk in it? Regardless, you prep a light breakfast with what was available.

He slept in. He woke up, reaching next to him and found nothing. He huffed and got up. He stretched out as he yawned. He decided to stay in his briefs, and slipped on his house slippers as he walked to the bathroom. After brushing his teeth, he heard his phone ring. As he answered the phone, Jackson walked to the kitchen; following the sounds of activity.

Buisness calls were important. The upcoming launches for the company were important, and demanded attention. He knew that. On the other hand, so did you. Especially when you was practically naked in his kitchen. He sat and watched as you finished up prepping the table, still on the phone.

You placed the last plate of food in front of him, meeting his grin with one of your own. He patted his lap. You gently took your seat and he let out a deep breathe as you shifted to get comfortable.

"What? No I'm good. Yeah. Yeah." he mindlessly replied.

You held out the piece of toast towards his lips. He bit a corner off as he continued his conversation on the phone.

"Ok. 5 o'clock. Sounds good." He hung up.

"Good morning."

"Good morning. Sleep well?" he inquired.

You nodded. "I'm amazed that I got up at all. I don't know how you can leave the bed when your sheets are that comfortable."

"I would have a harder time if you were in them every day" He teased as he adjusted his hold on you a bit.

You scoffed as she chewed on a strawberry. He kissed the side of your face. He moved his lips lower, peppering small kisses on your jaw. He rested both hands around your waist. It was distracting to say the least.

"Jackson, I'm hungry."

"Believe me, I am too." He spoke into your neck.

"I want to eat breakfast."

"I'm right here." His hand rubbed the small of your back.

"I mean the one I made."

"What - the bread and fruit?" he remarked.

"Well I would've cooked a proper breakfast if you bought groceries." you playfully countered.

"Baby I don't cook." he said as he looked up at you. You drape your arm around his neck, while the other hand picked at the fruit in front of you.

"Yeah, but I do."

"You want to cook for me?"

"I want to eat more than bread and fruit" You successfully found another piece of strawberry, happily popping it into your mouth.

"Let's order in" You nodded in agreement as you chewed. You turn to face him after wiping your hands with a napkin.

"The usual?"

You smiled, running a hand through his bedhead. "Sounds perfect." He smiled back. He loosened his hold to grab a cube of cantaloupe.

You both relayed what you had been up to since you had seen each other last. Luckily, you were both doing well. A knock at the door stopped your conversation, signalling that you both could finally eat. You ate breakfast, enjoying some waffles and eachother's company.

"We should go shopping." He was just about done with wiping down the table.

"Money burning a hole in your pocket again?" you joked.

"Always. You down?"

"Hm, maybe I'll find something." you shrugged, knowing damn well that you always did.

You lightly smacked Jackson's hand away from her neckline. He had been playing with your chain (or rather his chain that he insisted you wear it) since their drive to the mall.

"I love when you wear my jewelry."

"I know you do."

"I should get you new jewelry soon."

"Maybe."

"Maybe you can pose in it for me..." he suggested flirtily.

"If you're a good boy, maybe I will..." you quipped.

You had been at the mall for a bit, going to your usual stops. Jackson had already made his trip to his favorite stores. You weren't at all surprised when he bought nearly all of the newest collection from each of them. Unlike Jackson, so far, you had seen anything worth buying. Running out of suggestions, Jackson led the way to the last stop.

The boutique was breathtaking. Decorated in soft coral and creme color decor. Elegant light fixtures hung from the ceiling, making the room very bright but not blinding. The smell of fresh floral bouquets hit her nose as they entered. The clothes they sold looked so delicate on the velvet mannequins placed in various parts of the store. Much of merchandise was intricately detailed slips, sets, and other forms of lingerie. They were greeted in by the warm smile of an older woman fixing a display.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Hi I called earlier. Jackson Wang."

"Of course Mr. Wang. Right this way." The older woman turned and led them toward the dressing rooms. They followed.

You had to admit, you were a little surprised. "When did you call?"

"While you were getting ready." he said, mildly proud of himself.

"So you had a plan, huh?"

"Still do."

You had gone shopping together before. Hell, you had been to a lingerie boutique together more than once. And yet, this was the prettiest one that he had taken you to.

The dressing room area was gorgeous as the rest of the store. The worker instructed them to wait on the plush sectional, and assured them that she would be back in a second. So you sat there, taking in the room. Your eyes wandered to a highcut teddy hanging on the wall, made of a see through material.

Jackson's eyes wander to where you're staring. "You should try that on."

You turned to him, seeing a mischievous glint in his eyes. He opened and took a sip from a complimentary water bottle on the table.

"I don't have the right panties on for that."

"Well, I'll buy you the right kind then. I'm sure they have it." he said with a twinge of eagerness.

"We'll see." You take the bottle, taking a quick sip.

The worker comes back shortly after, still as nice as she was when you walked. "Sorry for the wait."

You both reassure her that it was no problem as two more employees stepped into the space. They each held a stack of sleek black boxes. The woman grabbed one of the boxes, and lifted the cover. You stand up from your seat on the sectional to get a closer look. You almost gasped. It was the prettiest baby doll you had ever seen. From the floral lace that was stitched to be the bra of the garment, to the sheer fabric that made up the rest of the piece. You were hesitant to touch it, in fear that you would ruin it.

"Wow."

"Would you like to try it on?" the older woman politely asked.

"What? Oh no that's okay." you blushed. You can feel your face warming at the suggestion. There was no way you were going to be practically naked in public, no matter how welcoming the workers were.

The worker nodded in understanding. "If you would like, we could show you other pieces from the new collection. Ones that are less revealing..."

You almost let out a sigh of relief. "Yes please."

The next box that was opened put you at ease, but not by much. Your eyes widened at the beauty of the robe in the box. This was definitely more your speed.

"This is beautiful."

The worker hummed in agreement. "This is my personal favorite of the new pieces. It comes in three different colors, including this one." She motioned for the other employees to find the other two colorways. They were all so pretty, how were you going to choose?

Jackson stood up and slipped a hand to the small of your back. He leaned in, close to your ear. "Which one do you want baby?"

You thought about it for a second. "Hmm...I like that one."

He nodded and averted his gaze to the polite worker. "Can I get this bagged up please?"

You made it back from shopping with plenty of time to kill. The rest of the afternoon was spend lounging around, and getting ready for dinner later on that night. It wasn't difficult for you and Jackson to agree on where to eat. In fact, much of why you got along well was because of your love of food. Normally, you would settle for some take out from a variety of different places. But tonight, Jackson wanted to treat you since it had been a while. He kept the location a secret, only telling you to dress nice.

"Table for two. Should be under Wang."

The hostess nodded, quickly combing over the reservation list. "Ah yes. Right this way."

You were led quickly away from the hustle and bustle of the front end of the restaurant, to a more secluded section. Jackson made sure to pull your chair out so you sat down first. You both took your time studying the menu.

"Wow this is nice...you take all your dates here?" you teased.

"I've actually never been here. I've been meaning to go at the perfect moment...or maybe with the perfect person."

You looked up from your menu, seeing him staring you. He was smiling softly.

"What?" you blushed.

"You look gorgeous" he said sincerely.

"Thank you. You do too"

Just then, the waiter appeared. "Good evening folks. Are we ready to order?"

You ordered crab cakes and a pineapple margarita. Jackson ordered steak with roasted vegetables to go with his red wine.

"So...what's the plan after this?" You were sipping the last of your drink.

"After?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah I mean...a good dinner calls for good dessert, right?"

"It definitely does..." he grabbed the dessert menu, flicking his gaze between her and the options.

The waiter appeared just in time. "Did you folks enjoy your meal?"

"Yes we did." He answered, closing the menu.

You nodded in agreement.

"Are we ordering anything else?"

Jackson replied for the both of you. "Could we get two orders of the chocolate lava cake to-go, and the bill please?" The waiter left without another word.

"To-go huh?" you teased.

"What can I say? I want to enjoy my dessert at home." He teased back.

You made it back to his place in a flash. You were sure his driver knew to make it a quick trip from the restaurant. Especially with the way Jackson quickly dismissed him for the night before you even closed the car door. You pulled away from him, only to be tugged back.

"Where are you going? Stay here." He captured your lips again, making your head spin. You almost forgot why you pulled away in the first place.

"I'll only be a second." You remarked as you made your way to the bedroom. He scoffed, only pretending to be annoyed. He took a seat at the dining table, reaching into the to-go bag for one of the desserts.

You softly closed the bedroom door. You took off your heels, ready to be rid of them. You let out a breath and reached for the closet door. You grabbed the two hangers that you had aside earlier. You pulled out the robe you picked out first. You took note of how soft the material was under your fingertips. The vibrant color of the robe and how the material shined even in minimal lighting. You threw the piece of clothing on the bed behind you and reached for the second hanger. Jackson had said on several occasions that he loved buying lingerie for you. That he would buy you anything and everything, if it meant that he got to see you in it. If he got to rip it off you. He was so eager about this set earlier. And you could see why. It stood out from the rest, even when you took it out of the bag earlier. It was beautiful. You quickly changed out of your dinner outfit and into the sexier outfit of choice.

You looked yourself over in the bedroom mirror one last time, deciding between closing the robe or keeping it open. You tied the robe into a simple knot. He should work for it a little bit. You fixed your hair, and opened the door.

The lights were dimly lit. Music played lowly on the stereo. He sat there, zeroing in on you. You sauntered over to him, shivering slightly from how cold the floor was.

"Well don't you look pretty" his fingers graze the skin of your exposed thigh.

"Thank you. You like it?"

He nodded and took another spoonful of the cake. He brought the spoon to your lips.

"Open."

You obliged and took the bite. You moaned at how sweet the cake is.

"Damn that's good." you both laugh at your sudden bluntness. He then drops the fork on the table as your giggles die down. You smile at him, noticing the remnents of whip cream on his face.

"You've got some cream on your face."

"Get it for me." He quickly challenged.

You gently placed your hands on the sides of his face. You leaned in, licking the whipped cream off the corner of his mouth.

You kiss the same area, making your way to his lips. He tasted sweet and addicting. He continued to kiss you as he stood up. She pouted as he pulled away. He smiled as he heard you yelp when he suddenly lifted you up. You wrapped yourself around his waist clumsily.

"Warn me next time." You muttered.

He laughed as he pecked your lips. He walked you back into the bedroom. He placed you gently at the foot of the bed. His hands landed on your covered waist.

"Like a present..." he muttered. He undid the simple knot on the robe. He motioned wordlessly for you to shrug off the material, and you did so. His eyes narrowed in on how the outfit fit on you. He knew his hunch was correct. He knew you would look amazing in it. The way the color complimented your skin. The way that it left nothing to the imagination and then simultaneously made him more curious. Especially the underwear that the set came with. He licked his bottom lip and started to undo his pants. You helped him out of his clothes. He stood there, naked from the waist down. He was sure he looked ridiculous. But he didn't care. Not when you were waiting.

"Stick your tongue out." He ordered sternly. You looked up at him and did what you were told. He took hold of his hardened dick, lightly smacked the tip of it on the surface of your tongue. You took control, gently wrapping your lips around it. He muttered to himself about how eager you were. The light suction you started was too much of a tease for him.

"Can I fuck your mouth pretty girl?"

You hummed in response. To reassure him that it was okay you took more into your mouth. He groaned and began to rock his hips. Neither of you had any objections with starting at a slow, unbearable pace. After all, you were staying for the weekend; you had plenty of time for moments like this.

Between the way you hallowed her cheeks, and the noises that were bouncing off the walls, he had to shut his eyes and enjoy the moment. He didn't want you to stop. If anything, he wanted to cum on your pretty face. And down your throat. Maybe all over you if you'd let him. His mind flashed to one night you had spent together in a similar situation. Your eyes glassy. Your lips bright red and puffy. Hair wet and crumbled under his grip. And your mouth wide open, ready for him. Fuck sometimes it was like you weren't real. His own personal star. He was brought back to reality when he heard you gag. He opened his eyes suddenly and looked down at you again. Your eye makeup slightly smearing, the shine from your lip gloss faint.

"Wait..." he gasped. She halted her movement. He reluctantantly pulled out, sighing as he felt the light touch of her teeth. He held his erection in his hands and began to rub himself. He wasn't ready to cum by any means, but he loved the stimulation.

His voice was noteiceably more raspy as he ordered you to lay down on the bed. You quickly laid down on the luxurious comforter and crossed your legs. He pulled his sweater over his head and tossing it behind him. He followed close behind, finding a comfortable spot infront of your manicured toes. You sat up on your elbows, smiling mischievously at him. He smiled back at you, knowingly. You knew what he wanted. You had a little peek at it earlier. You teasingly uncrossed your legs and bent your knees upward. You almost wanted to laugh at the expression on his face. The pure shock. He was scolding himself. Why didn't he buy you crotchless panties before? He inched in closer, bringing one of his hands to the sight in front of him.

"So wet from just sucking me off." He teased the entrance, lubing up his fingers with your arousal. He switched between rubbing your clit and plunging his fingers into you. This went on until he was using both hands. Until he had you squirming under his touch. You closed your eyes, worried that if you kept your gaze on him that she would fall apart. Everything felt so good. Too good. You were whining softly, your stomach was starting to contract.

"Jackson...jackso-"

"Don't worry beautiful, I remember." His hands retreated from your pussy to rest on your inner thighs. You let out a deep breath. You couldn't see it, but he watched as you inhaled and exhaled. The ache in your center was taunting. Reminding that your best orgasms came from when you edged, and that it was better for you to wait. He came back up to kiss you sloppily. As if from muscle memory you found his hair to anchor you. He moaned at how tight you held onto him. He nipped at your bottom lip, licking over the area. He firmly held the sides of your thighs.

"You're so sexy," he said in a low tone. He kissed his way down youru body in certain areas. Your neck. Your sternum. Your hips. Until he was finally facing your pussy. He wasted no time as he inserted his tongue into it. You gasped as you felt him work his way in and out of you hole to your clit. You began to feel yourself grow weak as he solely focused on your most sensitive spot. He continued his actions until you were practically lifting yourself off the bed as you came. Sighs and broken calls of his name leave you as you let go. Your actions only encourage Jackson, taking it upon himself to continue his actions. He laughs lightly as you pushed his face away, having grown too sensitive from the stimulation.

He kissed the sides of your hips, finally giving you some space. He bends over to the night stand behind you, opening the drawer and finding his stash of condoms. He closed the drawer gently. As he ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth, he found you looking up at him, tossing aside the now ruined lingerie.

"Let me know when you're ready okay?" He threw the condom wrapper on the nightstand. Reluctantly, he looks away from to focus on the task at hand. He hissed as he rolled the condom onto his erection, pinching the top and stretching it out a bit.

You alert that you are as you move up the bed to sit up against the headboard.

"You might have to take over and do all the work though. I think you made me cum too hard."

"Don't give up on me now. I'm not done fucking you yet." he grinned as he sat down in front of you.

"I'm not done fucking you yet." she grinned back. He ran a few fingers on the side of your thigh, liking the goosebumps that formed under his touch.

"Switch seats with me."

You nodded and slowly moved away from the spot. Once Jackson got settled, he motioned for you to sit on his lap. You settled on his lap, making it so that your knees rested on the mattress. He pushed his knees slightly upward and held up himself, guiding his cock perfectly under you. You wrapped your hands around his neck and faced him. You looked at eachother with eagerness and lust. No longer wanting to waste time you sank down, still keeping eye contact with him. You whined as his tip barely entered you, almost losing your balance.

"You okay?" he asked concerned. You shook head.

"Can't think straight. Take over baby."

He nodded, grabbing your hip with his free hand. You closed your eyes again, gasping at the stretch you were feeling. He was always so big every time he fucked you. You panted as he took over.

"I just need alittle bit..."

You found yourself whining more as he continued to slowly enter you.

"...little bit more beautiful..." he gave you a few encouraging kisses on your chest.

You whispered ok more to yourself than him, attempting to encourage yourself to be patient. You cursed when you finally felt his thighs under you.

"There..." he bit his lip and began to rock into her. Your little whines brought his attention back to your face. Eyes shut and chest heaving. Your body shiny from sweat. You were a goddess. He lovingly brought his hands to rest on your ass. He kept his hands there, encouraging you to move faster.

"I'm gonna...fuck I'm gonna cum..." you mindlessly admitted.

"Get after it then." he started thrusting faster into her, causing to her gasp.

He placed his hand on the back of your neck. He latched his mouth onto your nipple. You moaned at his actions. It was unbearable now. You had to cum. You removed a hand from his neck and snaked it down to where your bodies met. You immediately found your aching clit and rubbed haphazardly. You became breathless, gasping as she finally let go. He detached his mouth and gasped at how hard you clung onto his dick. He wasn't far behind, choosing to thrust into you sloppily until he finally felt it. He groaned as he came, shutting his eyes in pleasure.

"So good for me...so good..." he muttered into her shoulder.

You sat there for a while, practically glued together by sweat. You both were attempting to regulate your breath as Jackson stayed inside of you.

"Fuck."

You sighed. "I know. Dibs on the last lava cake."

"Go ahead baby. I'm tired." he sighed, leaning back into the headboard.

"Awe." you pushed back some of the hair off his forehead and kissed the area. On one hand, you wanted that cake. But you were also exhausted like he was. You climbed off of him and settled into the sheets, needing a moment.

#jackson wang smut #jackson wang x reader #got7 smut #kpop smut

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gnabnahcsworld · 2 months

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On my final note of the night cuz I’m sure yall are tired of watching me lose my mind on here…let’s talk about our man mister Song Mingi. I always forget just how LARGE this man is.. @whatudowhennooneseesyou says he half man and half horse (save a horse and ride song mingi, I mean shit you’d be half way there) and she’s right in more ways than one cuz I do believe that man definitely has a third leg. There is NEVER day of peace around here all I do is get on here and cry, cry that I’ll be able to give him or Chris the head of their lives..the head no guillotine could ever take away.

#I love a man with thick thighs so bad #maybe it’s the sag in me but men with thick thighs and fatasses are my fave thing in the world the 8th wonder if you will #literally can ruin my life no questions asked #this was one of the reasons I was obsessed with Jackson wang so damn bad and still is ugh #a man with thick thighs and a fat ass can tell me anything idc like whatever u say sweet cheeks #like look at his fucking shoulders y’all wtf..???#dudes literally double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon suns out #song mingi #ateez #ateez mingi #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez song mingi #my post 💗

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mykoreanlove · 1 year

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backseat love.

You lay in the back of his red mustang.

His beloved car was parked in a secluded stop near the beach.

It was a warm summer night in late August.

The sky was clear, the air was crisp.

The moon illuminated your beautiful features effortlessly.

You closed your eyes.

Jackson’s musky scent clouded your mind completely.

You felt his plush lips exploring your neck.

His kisses were sweet, restrained even.

His body hovered above you, always leaving a bit of space as to not smother you.

Your hands trailed along his strong arms, rubbing circles on the spots in which his skin was tattooed.

Jackson stopped kissing you for a moment as he giggled under your touch.

“That tickled.”

You smirked diabolically.

“My bad”.

Not even a second later you had your hands on his sides tickling him on purpose.

Jackson got startled and tried to escape your nimble fingers while laughing hysterically.

You learned to love that high pitched laugh rather quickly.

He easily freed himself out of your touch and reversed the roles.

Now, he held your hands in place and laid directly on you.

Feeling him felt nice, being this close to him felt even nicer.

The mood changed as quickly as his eyes did.

You did not understand how but his dark eyes turned even darker somehow.

Jackson looked at you intensely.

“Y/N, don’t you ever do that again. Unless…”

He stopped talking and observed your face instead.

You felt his eyes linger on your lips.

Excitement rushed through your whole body.

You licked your lips in anticipation.

“Unless?”

Jackson’s eyes lit up from arousal, swallowing hard.

“Unless you want to get punished, baby girl.”

He crushed his lips onto yours and kissed you with his all.

Desire, longing, yearning, passion – you couldn’t think of a word to describe him.

Describe this.

Your fingers found the back of his head, tugging on his Cruella hair.

“Need you closer.”

You mumbled in between kisses, not wanting to break contact with his lips.

Jackson complied, thrusting his hips onto you.

“Like this?”

You moaned.

Your eyes shot open from embarrassment.

Jackson’s lips turned to a smirk, watching you very closely.

“I wanna do that again.”

You looked confused.

“What?”

“I wanna hear you moan again. No, I-”

He thrusted his hips again, making you understand how desperate he was for you.

“I want to make you moan again. And again. And again.”

Jackson’s lips found yours again, kissing you until you ran out of breath.

His almond shaped eyes looked down at you, requesting.

“If you let me?”

Fuck, he was good.

Your hands let go of his hair and travelled down to his crotch instead.

You were kneading him through his pants, smirking at him.

“Let’s go then.”

You had no idea how long the two of you had been at it.

The car was rocking.

The windows were fogged.

The air smelled like sex.

Both of you were sweaty and out of breath.

You still sat on his lap thanks to the last position he had you in.

You were covered in bite marks.

Neck, tits, inner thighs – Jackson marked you everywhere.

“I had no idea our date would go like this but I liked it.”

He laughed shyly.

You mirrored his laughter and pressed your forehead to his.

Jackson took your head into his hands, watching you with the biggest smile.

“You are so beautiful, y/n. Like really, fucking beautiful.”

He placed another kiss on your lips.

The kisses before were hungry and hurried.

Now they were sincere and sweet.

“How the hell are you still single?”

Ouch.

That one hurt.

“Because of guys like you, Jackson.”

You wanted to get away from him.

And his car.

You wanted to get up and cry.

“Because of guys like you. The ones that get to know me and tell me the sweetest things. Y/N, you are so beautiful. Y/N, you are so great. I wanna date you and do this and do that blablabla. Guys like you Jackson, they only want to fuck me and then they leave for someone else. You tell me why I’m still single.”

You practically spat out those last words.

Rage filled your whole body.

“Hello? Y/N? You okay?”

You snapped back to reality, leaving your blame game fantasies.

An awkward laugh left your lips.

“Sorry, got lost in thought.”

You smiled, hoping he would let it go.

Jackson was not sure what to do next.

Your vibe had changed completely.

You were cold and reserved now.

Your body tense.

Your smile fake.

“Did I.. Did I do something wrong?”

You turned your head away, laughing again.

“Of course not.”

His hand grabbed your face smoothly and turned it back so you could face him.

“Don’t do that y/n.”

You looked at him surprised.

“Do what?”

“Don’t hide from me, please. I know that I said something that triggered you and I’m sorry. But please, don’t shut me out.”

Jackson’s eyes were filled with sorrow – something you had never seen before in a male counterpart.

Slowly you regained your composure.

“You asked as a joke, I overreacted. It was really not that deep.”

“What if it was?”

He tugged back the strands of hair that fell into your face.

“What if it was deep? Why not talk about it? Don’t hold everything in, y/n.”

You were resistant.

This was not what you wanted.

This was supposed to be a careless date.

How did it turn into this?

“Do you trust me?”

Strangely enough, you did.

You nodded your head.

Jackson beamed you a smile.

“I trust you, too.”

His words touched you.

He touched you.

You felt yourself relax, as if weight had dropped off your shoulders.

You let out a deep breath.

Jackson took your hands into his and squeezed them.

“Wanna know how this normally goes?”

He nodded quietly.

“Well, I am still single because I meet the worst kind of people. You know the ones that don’t want to commit but behave as if they fell in love with you? It’s always the same – they tell me the nicest things, just like you did. Y/N, you are amazing. You are beautiful and smart and funny blabla, how are you still single?”

Tears were starting to fill your eyes.

Jackson didn’t say a word.

He knew it was hard for you.

He knew what it felt like to be in your shoes.

He knew how hard it was to open up about your struggles.

Tears were running down your cheeks.

“God, I feel so stupid telling you all this. I am still single because guys only think of fucking me. That’s all they do. They use me and then they throw me away. Like I meant nothing. Like I was trash. They delete my contact, they block me, they are out of my life without a single word. That is why I am still single, Jackson. I’m just not made for love.”

Your last words lingered in the air for a while.

You felt his thumb on your cheek, whiping away your salty tears.

“That was hard, wasn’t it?”

You nodded.

You felt small.

You felt vulnerable.

You made a giant fool of yourself on this date.

Great.

“I admire you, y/n.”

Your reddened eyes shot up, looking at him with confusion.

“You.. You what?”

Jackson laughed, adoring your cuteness so much.

“I know what it’s like to go through hard times. And how it feels to be rejected. And how it feels to bottle it all up. I am sorry that you had to go though all this. But you haven’t closed off your heart and I admire you for that.”

Now you wanted to cry more.

Not out of sadness, but out of gratitude.

“What? Did you expect me to kick you out of my car after you confessed all that?”

Jackson laughed and started kissing your tears away.

He looked at you sternly, whispering.

“I would never do that.”

All of you wanted to believe him.

All of you craved for someone that was good to you for once.

But all of you was suspicious because of your past.

„You said this happened normally, right?“

You nodded.

„Good.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, closing the space between the two of you.

“I’m sure you already know that I am not a normal guy, right?”

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bakuettes · 2 months

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Kill Bill

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒! : toxic!reader, toxic!bakugo, mentions of drugs, reader smokes, lots of cursing bc what’s a bakugo fic if he isn’t cursing????, slight infidelity?, alcohol consumption and lots of spelling errors 😭

Tonight you were supposed to chill out with Mina and Momo in the dorms but word got around that Jackson Wang was hosting a party at a frat house off campus..so obviously you got your ass up and put on the cuntiest outfit you could find in your closet. You had originally wanted to talk with your boyfriend (who’s not your boyfriend but everyone knows he’s your boyfriend) about what the hell you two even were. there would be days where you wouldn’t even get a text back, not a ‘hi sorry i’m busy’ or a ‘let’s talk later im in a training session with kirishima’ literally nothing.

You were fine with it, honestly. If he wouldn’t give you attention then there’s a whole campus of guys that would. It sounds terrible but you’ve learned that it is what it is and you’re on what he’s on. No way in hell would you ever beg for his attention.. at least not anymore. You looked good, you know you did. Tonight was supposed to be filled with good times and (bad decisions) fun memories. He said he was exhausted after hours of grueling training and that we’d talk tomorrow morning. So why is it that you see your boyfriend sitting on a couch outside the frat house with some girl whose name you don’t even know on his lap?

momo stopped all three of you in your tracks, glancing over at you. “y/n, we can always just leave? i’m sure another frat is hosting a party.” should you leave? it’s not like you haven’t seen this from him before. countless nights you spent crying, wondering why you weren’t enough for him to show some effort. fuck, you even wondered if he liked you at all. “what?! no way, why should y/n leave just because he doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants? we came to let loose!” mina disagreed with momo from the opposite side. he hasn’t noticed you guys from a far. sitting there with a red solo cup in his hand, man spreading for the whole block to see and looking as cocky as ever.

fuck no, you were not leaving. he no longer gets to ruin your fun. “it’s cool momo, we’re not leaving. i want to have fun and drink a little before exams start kicking our ass next week.” she looked at you a little unsure but started walking in the direction of the house once more. mina cheered with a shit-eating grin on her face, happy that you chose to stay. walking with a little more confidence in your step, you made your way up the lawn and straight to katsuki. you pursed your lips, faking a look of understanding “exhausted huh? yeah, i’d be exhausted too entertaining all these other bitches. it must get hard trying to keep count, no?”

there was something about seeing him with another girl on his lap that made you want to crash the fuck out. sure you’d hear stories of him jumping from girl to girl while you two were on breaks. a break doesn’t mean you’re completely over, a break mean you two put a pause on your relationship. you still expected loyalty and trust but even that was wishful thinking. the girl was sat on his lap, arm around his neck, giving you a one over. she looked (in the nicest way possible) cheap and tacky. not because she wore the smallest dress known to man but because of the way she carried herself. she had a look of arrogance and a serious case of lash blindness. you were not a bully by any means. you got along with majority of the girls on campus, always gave out hero advice or fashion advice. you’d lend your lip gloss to girls you’d meet in bathrooms if they asked. you truly loved the feeling of having so many friends who can lean on you and vice versa.

But what you hated most were girls who thought that they were superior to others. ones that didn’t respect boundaries OR relationships. you hated this girl.

the smile fell off his face once he heard your voice, probably thinking that you were at the dorms in bed. “y/n, what the fuck are you doing here?” he has such a punchable face, fortunately for him you never believed in putting hands on your significant other. the audacity of him to question you when he was the one who lied? “what the fuck am I doing here? no, what the fuck are YOU doing here? you said you’d be asleep but you’re at a party and laid up with some girl on top of that? you have no right to question me.” you scoff, looking them up and down. you said you wouldn’t let this ruin your night and it won’t. if he wants to act single then you could too. momo and mina follow behind you, throwing dirty looks at both of them. “you ever heard of girl code? bakugo will drop you as soon as y/n calls his name.” momo says and drags mina inside. tonight you’re gonna let loose and let go.

______________________________________________________

𝐚/𝐧 !! okay so this hasn’t been proof read so there may be mistakes but let me know how you like it so far!

#Spotify #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #fanfic #college au #bnha #bakugo x reader #mha #reader insert #jackson wang #toxic love #fraternity

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keehomania · 2 months

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frostbite 2 (동상 2) — min yoongi (민윤기)

the first part can be found here

✧.* 18+

when an object is cold, it typically absorbs heat from its surroundings. heat transfer occurs from a warmer object to a cooler object in an attempt to reach thermal equilibrium. so, if an object is colder than its surroundings, it will absorb heat from the environment until it reaches the same temperature as its surroundings. that just so happened to be the case with you. with you and min yoongi.

people had a negative way of reaction to the cold. their primal, native instinct was to warm themselves up as best as they could. maybe they'd wear double layers, accesorize with some mittens and soft boots. it was their way of building a natural defense against something that could potentially harm them. you never had a defense of your own, you were more likely to adapt to your surroundings, because you couldn't freeze something that had been cold for so long.

“i look stupid as shit in this, don't i?” no, you didn't need a defense, but you didn't need to adapt anymore either. all you had to do was surround yourself with what made you feel warm, what kept you invincible against the blizzards that awaited. the little things, like what you had found yourself staring at for a good minute. really, how were you supposed to tell him that the hawaiian shirt made him look like a ketamine-addicted tourist? he looked too cute.

you suppressed a giggle, unable to contain your laughter as you watched him scowl. “you've never looked better,” you couldn't help but tease. “all you're missing is a lei and coconut bra.” he shot you a look, feigning offense, but he doesn't remember the last time he was as happy as he was with you. you had spent the entire summer with him, and you knew the next semester was close, but the more time you had spent with him, the less you thought about it. all of your days were spent together, even your nights. the minute you had told him about your refusal to go back home—about how painful it was—he made it his mission to keep you as far away from it as possible.

he had become your new home, and you had become his. he had little to no interest in spending time with his family, he knew all it would do was piss him off. he never felt that way around you. it was amazing, the effect different environments had on people.

your activities had ranged from coffee dates and shopping, to sitting by the sea, to anything and everything. yoongi had truly believed he had turned a new leaf because of you, and it meant everything to you. he also knew that, despite all odds, he was more closer to your heart than he'd ever been. it wasn't the weather, the lack of snow and ice, it was love. you both knew it, because the smallest of moments were crucial. months had passed, and the slightest touch of his still made you blush. kissing you had still felt unreal. nothing mattered.

of course, there was still tension. nothing you couldn't push past, but the little things made you wonder. once, you had found yourself walking past an ice cream parlor with him, only for him to stop dead in his tracks. it was uncanny, the way he practically shivered at the sight of colorful, cold slabs being scooped into cups and cones. it made you frown, but you didn't ask. you never had to, you knew the feeling better than anyone. so, you'd give his hand a tight squeeze—a sign of reassurance—and you wouldn't let go as you led him away, not even when it left his sight.

your deeds never went unnoticed, he knew you cared about him the same way he cared about you. he treasured you, the thought of anything happening to you made him physically ill. not only that, but it pissed him off to a foreign extent. he had never been possessive over anybody or anything the way he was over you. much like the relationship itself, it was unfamiliar to him, a new experience, but he was willing to accept it. for you, he'd accept anything.

by the time the next semester had rolled around, nothing had changed. the campus stayed the same, the students stayed the same, you and yoongi stayed the same. of course, the air had become more crisp, but it had nearly gone unnoticed this time. almost everything had remained exactly the same.

almost everything. there had always been a saying that friendships had a bond just as strong as relationships. or at least, that's what you had believed. friends didn't fight the way couples did, they weren't intimate the way couples were. couples could be friends, but friends could never be couples, and that was the beauty of it, wasn't it?

the first time you had noticed a change in taehyung's behavior happened to be the very first day of your second year. during the vacation, you coincidentally hadn't spoken a word to each other. nothing was said, no messages were exchanged, but you thought nothing of it. you had presumed he had his own things going on. it was summer break, after all. that possibility had quickly left the list the minute he saw you. he saw you, and you had changed more than intended.

if the grin on your face was any indication, you were much happier than you were the year prior. the first time you had met him, he was the one with a shiny smile painting his lips. you were more stoic, cold, despite becoming one of his closest friends. you seemed more cheerful, like you had let loose. he didn't even have to ask, he knew the reason better than anyone. sometimes, he could feel hate brewing in his stomach towards himself for ever convincing yoongi to talk things out with you. he knew it was a selfish feeling, but he was only human. he had the right to feel, to love. the same feeling had started to make an appearance when he saw you, just down the hall. had you gotten prettier, or were you just happier? your hair was lighter, your skin a few shades darker. the sun had done its work. it was as if he was staring at the sun.

so badly did he want to greet you, to hug you. he missed you, he missed seeing you. he had nothing else to look forward to in school, seeing you kept him happy—the way he was supposed to be. instead, he walked right past you. your face fell as you turned back, waiting for him to do the same, to say he didn't see or recognize you, but it never happened. he wasn't in a hurry, and he didn't seem sick. you saw the way he looked at you—and he most definitely looked—a dull, lifeless look in his eyes, as if you had done something wrong. in the moment, you chose not to say anything. yoongi was the one who had the pleasure of hearing all about it.

“he is such an asshole,” you continued, pacing around the room for what felt like an hour. to yoongi, obviously. he rolled his eyes, but listened nonetheless. it wasn't that he didn't care about what you had to say, about what was bugging you—he just didn't want to hear about taehyung. “what the fuck did i do to him? i've been nothing but a friend, and now i'm getting the cold shoulder.”

yoongi sighed, “let him be, it's just the way he is,” was all he could say. he knew that wasn't the case, he knew that taehyung had become just as dismissive of him, and he knew the reason. it had been crystal clear to him that he was jealous, he knew it before all hell even broke loose. above all else, yoongi knew there was nothing he could do about it. he wasn't going to choose anybody's feelings over you. “ignore him and it'll pass, okay?”

all you could do was huff as he placed a reassuring kiss onto your forehead, nodding in agreement. after all, he was right; no response was the best response. maybe taehyung was just going through something of his own.

“by the way, there's something i wanted to talk to you about,” yoongi announced, placing both of his hands onto your shoulders. he gave your arms a gentle squeeze as you perked your head up, suddenly intrigued. “but you have to promise me you won't freak, okay?” you nodded in response, eager to hear what he had to say. he smiled at your excitement, but he couldn't help the anxiety that began to course through his veins.

it was something he had been wanting to ask you for a long time, but he never had the chance. he wanted the timing to be right, but it never seemed to be. “i talked to my mom recently, just before school started, and i told her all about you,” he was only halfway through his sentence, and it was already getting difficult to bite back the growing smile on your face. he had told his mother all about you, the woman who birthed him. “she and my step-dad wanna have lunch with us this weekend, they're dying to get to know you.” it was official, there was nothing left for you to hold back.

his heart finally steadied at the sight of your smile, he took it was a positive sign. “min yoongi wants me to meet his parents,” you teased, your smile never faltering. “what kind of girlfriend would i be if i said no?” he couldn't have possibly asked for a better answer. with a smile, he wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in a hug. “you're the best girlfriend ever, i promise they'll be nice,” he murmured into your neck.

the week leading up to the lunch felt like an eternity. each day crawled by, filled with anticipation and anxiety that gnawed at you incessantly. yoongi, with his calming presence and reassuring words, tried to ease your nerves, but the thought of meeting his parents weighed heavily on your mind. you couldn’t shake the pang of insecurity that came along with the idea of making a good impression. after all, you’d heard stories of how discerning parents could be, especially when it came to their son's happiness. on top of everything, you had made no progress with taehyung.

he ignored you during your joint classes, during your free periods—you had even tried starting up a conversation, and it had gotten you nowhere. “do you have a spare pencil?” was your ultimate question, with his seat just next to yours. for a second, he looked at you, and there was hope. that hope went away in the blink of an eye—he didn't even spare a simple shake of his head, he just ignored you. you frowned, but said no more. the way he looked at you was unexplainable, almost painful. yet you still said nothing.

as monday melted into tuesday, and then wednesday merged into thursday, you devoted every free moment to preparing for the fateful lunch. at the campus library, you flipped through magazines, gathering ideas on fashion and etiquette, meticulously choosing outfits that projected confidence while still feeling like you. friday morning arrived, and after a thorough search of your closet, you finally settled on a chic yet comfortable ensemble. the day had finally come. sitting at your desk, you meticulously applied your makeup, ensuring that each brushstroke accentuated your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. just as you were putting the finishing touches on your look, you felt a familiar presence behind you. “are you ready?” yoongi's voice broke through your thoughts, warm and supportive.

he leaned against the doorframe, his casual demeanor instantly grounding you. he couldn't take his eyes off you. even after so many months, no girl was as beautiful as you were. no girl could come close. you turned around, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he wore a simple black sweater, his hair falling casually over his forehead, effortlessly charming. “almost,” you replied, forcing a smile. “just need to grab my bag.”

as you both set out for the restaurant, the air was thick with anticipation. his parents had chosen a spot closer to the campus, but it wasn't exactly a casual spot. by the looks of it, you could practically hear bank accounts draining. yoongi held your hand, squeezing it gently as you approached the entrance. you could feel your heart racing, and a mix of excitement and trepidation washed over you. “just remember,” he said softly, “my parents are going to love you. just be yourself.” you nodded, grateful for his support.

before stepping into the restaurant, you both paused for a brief moment outside. the bustling sounds of the city faded as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself with the scent of fresh flowers nearby. “you’ve got this,” he encouraged, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. with that, you stepped through the door, the chatter of diners enveloping you. as you approached the table where his parents waited, he could see the familiarity in their faces, warmth etched in their expressions. yoongi led you to the table as you fell behind him, the crowd of people making it impossible to see and squeeze through.

the minute you managed to squeeze through, you found yourself making some last-minute adjustments. you dusted your jeans, flattening them and making sure you looked presentable. with a sigh, you pushed your hair back and tilted your head forward, thinking you were finally ready for what was to come. the second you did, you realized just how unprepared you really were.

“(y/n)?” and the sound of your name rang in the air for what could have been forever. nobody shared your look of horror—not yoongi, nor his mother, who shared a look of utter confusion. it was your face that fell, as if all the blood had been drained from your skin, as if the life had left your body. your eyes were wide, pupils dilated to pinpricks as if you'd seen something so profoundly disturbing that your mind couldn’t process it. and you did, you really did. your gaze was fixed and unblinking, a silent scream trapped within.

“dad,” and he was everything but that, yet you still couldn't stop the name from passing your lips. four, five, six years had gone by in the blink of an eye, and he was still everything but that. six years had gone by since you uttered his name, and six years had led up to nothing but a nightmare coming to life.

in that moment, shared confusion finally morphed into horror. yoongi stood completely still, his body frozen as if the shock had turned him to stone. his face was locked in a rictus of terror, every muscle taut and unmoving, betraying the internal chaos raging within. he couldn't process what was happening, and he truly didn't want to. his eyes flickered between you and his step-father, and the scene that was in the process of unfolding was something that haunted him to his very core.

“(y/n)—” your father found himself calling out your name once more, but you had no interest in participating anymore. you had no interest in playing the sick, twisted gamr the universe had so cruelly had in store. despite his hand reaching for you, you found yourself moving backwards. your face crumpled as if you had been punched, the lines of your features collapsing into a grotesque expression of disbelief. your brows knitted together, and her eyes were filled with an agonizing realization that seemed almost too much to bear.

“no,” and it was all you could think to say. “no, no, no,” a sequence of the same word in an everlasting repetition as you backed away from the table. your head had started to spin, the background noise becoming suffocating.

it didn't take long for you to run for the exit, the walking in reverse only worsening your state. you ran, you ran out of the restaurant, and you didn't know what was happening. you couldn't process what was happening. you had told yoongi absolutely everything—he knew absolutely everything. the same way you knew everything—how his father had passed, how his mother had re-married, how fond he was of his step-father. you felt queasy at the thought, practically collapsing in front of the restaurant.

yoongi had put the pieces together as he ran after you. he said nothing more to his parents when his instincts kicked in—he ran. his face went ashen, his hands gripping his stomach as if trying to hold back the rising tide of nausea. the grotesque scene made his insides lurch, and he fought to keep himself from retching. everything had started to come together, even the stew that you had made him found its role to play, yet nothing made sense.

what was supposed to be clean, crisp air felt like an icy blanket against your skin as you fled the restaurant. the once-warm atmosphere of the evening had turned frigid, and each step you took seemed to echo the churning chaos inside your heart. your footsteps pounded against the pavement, and the hum of distant traffic was a dissonant backdrop to your escalating panic. behind you, yoongi’s footsteps grew louder, his hurried breaths blending with the rhythm of your own. his voice, strained with emotion, called out, “wait! please, just wait!”

you couldn’t stop. the sight of your father, now yoongi’s stepfather, had struck a devastating blow. the pain of abandonment, which had never truly healed, surged up anew. you could feel the tears blurring your vision, mixing with the raw fury and confusion that churned within you. how could this happen? how could he be so close, yet so impossibly distant?

you stumbled through the parking lot, the gleam of streetlights casting long, distorted shadows. you reached the edge of the street, the dim light from a nearby lamppost flickering erratically. your breaths came in ragged bursts, and you tried to calm the storm inside, but every time you thought of yoongi’s mother sitting beside him, the image of your father at the table, it only intensified the emotional tempest.

yoongi’s hand touched your shoulder gently but firmly, his touch a jarring contrast to the storm raging inside you. he turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that cut through your turmoil. “please,” he said, his voice breaking, “let’s talk this out. i know this is overwhelming, but running away won’t solve anything. we need to work through this together.”

you shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your cheeks. “no, yoongi, you don’t get it. this isn’t just about you and me anymore. it’s about my entire life being upended. my father abandoned me when i needed him the most, and now he’s a part of your life. it’s too much. it’s unbearable.” yoongi’s face twisted with a blend of pain and confusion. “i understand that this is a lot to process, but we can face this together. we’ve built something real, something beautiful. don’t let this tear us apart. i want to be here for you, through all of this.”

his words cut through you, but they also felt like a cruel irony. the very thing that made his plea so heartfelt was the same thing that made it impossible for you to stay. your heart ached at the sight of his pained expression, but the distance between you felt as insurmountable as the ocean. “you don’t understand,” you said, your voice quivering. “you can’t understand what it feels like to see someone who hurt you so deeply now being part of the life you’ve built. i can’t bear the thought of seeing him at every family event, every holiday, every time i come to visit. it’s not just about us anymore. It’s about a wound that never healed.”

yoongi’s eyes filled with a mixture of pleading and sorrow, as tears of his own threatened to spill. “please, don’t do this. we’ve been through so much together. i need you. i love you. i can’t just let you go without fighting for us. we can figure this out. i promise we can find a way to make this work.”

you felt a deep, wrenching pain at his words, a profound sadness that seemed to echo your own. “i’m so sorry, yoongi,” and it was all you could say. all you could do was apologize, because you knew it was over. you knew that the very thing keeping you afloat was about to let you drown.

with those final words, you turned and walked away, feeling yoongi’s gaze on your back as you moved further into the night. each step felt like an echo of the heartbreak you were leaving behind, and the street seemed to stretch endlessly before you, reflecting the uncertain path you now had to navigate alone. the night that followed was silent except for the distant hum of traffic, and as you walked away from, not just yoongi and the restaurant, but from everything.

the days following the breakup were a painful blend of routine and heartache. the dorm you shared with yoongi felt like a haunted space, where every corner seemed to echo with the remnants of what had once been. the silence between you was palpable, a constant reminder of the fracture in your lives. you'd become adept at avoiding him, slipping in and out of the apartment with calculated precision, hoping to minimize the awkward encounters that were now a painful part of your daily life. your classes and studies provided a temporary escape, but even there, the weight of the situation followed you, a shadow that refused to lift.

one particular afternoon, as you settled into a lecture hall, yoongi was left alone in the apartment. the sound of his footsteps, heavy and laden with melancholy, echoed in the quiet space. with you away, he sought solace in old habits that had long been buried. he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, the familiar rustle of the wrapper a sad comfort. the cigarette’s glow cut through the darkness of his room, but the smoke only seemed to amplify the shadows in his soul. the only part that remained unchanged was the open window.

the alcohol came next. he poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass as he stared vacantly at the wall. the burn of the liquor was a fleeting distraction from the gnawing emptiness inside him. he sank into a chair, the alcohol doing little to numb the ache that lingered in his heart. as the night deepened, his usual habits returned with a vengeance. he reached out to old friends, seeking solace in transient connections that only left him feeling more hollow. the nights were spent in a haze of smoke, drinks, and fleeting encounters with girls that roamed the halls, waiting for an ounce of a chance with him—an attempt to drown out the echo of your absence.

as you returned from class, you noticed a change. the apartment was filled with a sense of coldness, almost as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. yoongi’s demeanor had shifted dramatically; he was distant and cruel, his once-familiar warmth replaced by a frosty detachment. his once kind eyes were now often cast downward, and when they did meet yours, there was a sharpness in his gaze that was both new and painfully familiar.

weeks passed in a blur of strained interactions and bitter silence. it was during this period that you began to notice something troubling. yoongi’s routine had become erratic, punctuated by sudden absences and late-night returns. he was frequently out of the dorm, and the frequency of his comings and goings began to raise questions.

it wasn’t until one evening, as you returned from a late class, that the reality of yoongi’s new life hit you with full force. you entered the apartment to find it unusually quiet. a faint, melodic laughter reached your ears from the adjoining room. as you approached, the laughter grew louder, and you saw her—a girl, strikingly familiar, sitting on the couch in his presence. you had recognized her from your psych class. a gorgeous girl—a smart, gorgeous girl. they were locked in an intimate conversation, and the sight of them together was a punch to the gut.

yoongi’s new girlfriend had become a frequent visitor, her presence an unspoken testament to how his life had irrevocably changed. the frequency of her visits and the way Yoongi’s demeanor shifted in her presence made it clear that he had moved on, leaving you behind in a painful echo of the past.

you retreated to your room, your heart heavy with the realization that the man you had once shared your life with was now building a new one, one that did not include you. the echoes of his old habits and the new relationship only served to magnify the void left in the wake of your broken heart. the dorm, once a shared sanctuary, had become a place of silent suffering and unspoken regrets. each day was a reminder of the pain and loss that had unfolded, leaving both of you grappling with the emotional wreckage of a relationship that had ended too soon.

the afternoon sun cast a gentle, golden hue over the campus as you sat alone on a bench outside, a serene contrast to the turmoil inside you. the quiet beauty of the setting seemed almost mocking, a serene backdrop to the emotional storm that raged within. you had come here in search of some semblance of peace, but instead, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of memories and regrets. the past weeks had been a blur of sadness and loneliness. yoongi’s absence, the cold distance between you two, and the abrupt change in his life had left you feeling abandoned and adrift. the dorm had become a place of constant reminders of what was lost, and even the comfort of familiar spaces had turned against you.

sitting on the bench, you let your thoughts wander through the fragments of your recent past—yoongi’s new girlfriend, his sudden coldness, and the growing void in your life. each thought seemed to pull you further into the abyss of your own emotions. you felt a deep ache, an overwhelming sense of loneliness that no amount of rationalization could soothe.

the quiet of the campus was interrupted only by the distant hum of students and the occasional rustle of leaves. you fought to keep the tears at bay, but the weight of everything proved too heavy. your shoulders began to shake, and soon, the sobs you had been holding back burst forth uncontrollably. you buried your face in your hands, letting the tears flow freely, each one a testament to the heartache and confusion that had consumed you.

it was in a moment of utter despair that you felt a presence behind you. the sensation was faint but unmistakable. you wiped your eyes and turned, expecting to see a passerby or perhaps another student. instead, your eyes met with taehyung’s—his gaze soft, yet filled with a deep concern that mirrored your own pain. his absence in recent weeks had been painfully noticeable, particularly after your relationship with yoongi became more serious. the silence between you two had been a silent testament to unspoken feelings and unresolved tension.

he approached cautiously, his usual exuberance replaced by a solemnity that matched the mood. “can i sit with you?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with an earnest vulnerability. you nodded, unable to speak through the remnants of your tears. taehyung settled beside you on the bench, his presence a soothing balm to your fractured emotions. for a long moment, there was silence between you, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

finally, the floodgates of emotion that you had tried so hard to hold back burst open again. you began to tell taehyung everything—from what happened to your parents, to what happened in the restaurant, to what was currently happening. each word was a painful release, and taehyung listened with a patience and understanding that you had desperately needed, despite the shock that flooded his system.

he reached out, placing a comforting hand on your back. “i’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he said softly. “i’ve been an asshole for not reaching out sooner. i let my feelings get in the way of being there for you.” the warmth of his hand and the sincerity in his voice brought a fresh wave of tears. you leaned into him, finding solace in his comforting presence. his arms wrapped around you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a genuine sense of comfort and safety.

you were grateful. for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel grateful. taehyung and you grew closer than ever before. he became a constant, reassuring presence in your life, a bright spot in a time that had been marred by sorrow. he made efforts to distract you from the pain, planning outings, watching movies, and engaging in late-night talks that made the days more bearable.

the transformation in you was noticeable. you began to smile more, laugh freely, and engage in activities that had once brought you joy. even yoongi, though still distant, couldn’t help but notice the change. the sight of you appearing happier, more vibrant, stirred something within him. despite his new relationship, there was a pang of jealousy and regret that gnawed at him. he observed how taehyung seemed to be a beacon of light in your life, and it only served to highlight his own sense of loss.

“what's this?” you exclaimed, startled as taehyung came up from behind you. you were in the middle of studying, whilst waiting for his arrival, but he didn't come empty-handed.

a smile graced his face as he stood before you, a tray in his hands. you furrowed your eyebrows as you analyzed the contents of the paper tray—food, food that was definitely homemade, and not a product of the cafeteria. you looked up at him, flushed in the face as he took a seat next to you. “i made this,” he announced proudly. “don't just stare, it's for you.” the smile on your face faltered, but it wasn't because you weren't happy. in fact, you were delighted. no one had ever cooked you a meal since your mother had passed, and it was something that had been bugging taehyung for days. specifically, since you told him about her. it hurt him how you had to spend years fending for yourself, feeding yourself.

you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. he gladly accepted, returning the hug as he nuzzled his head into the crack of your neck. you had hugged so many times, but never like that. “thank you, tae,” and the nickname stuck. the gentle tone you used stuck. he remained silent, but he refused to break the embrace. it was something that hadn't gone unnoticed—you settled into his touch, and took note of just how sweet he was being.

“you're joking,” yoongi muttered to himself. it was stronger than him, he couldn't help the way his blood just so happened to boil. he was just a few meters away. he didn't want to watch—he wanted to walk past you like he didn't care, but he cared. he cared too much. he knew he had no right—he was the one that was cruel, the one that moved onto the next new thing, why couldn't you?

the days had settled into a comforting routine of companionship and mutual support. taehyung’s presence was like a steady anchor in the stormy sea of your emotions, and his efforts to bring light into your life had begun to heal some of the wounds that had seemed so insurmountable.

one evening, after another day spent together, you and taehyung were sitting on the couch in the living room. yoongi had gone somewhere, perhaps to his girlfriend's dorm, it didn't really matter. the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp, casting a warm, soothing light. the air was filled with the soft hum of a music playlist, and you both had just finished a shared meal—one that he had cooked—lingering over the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company.

he had been unusually quiet, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a contemplative mood. you noticed the change but chose to let it be, sensing that something was weighing on his mind. as the music played softly in the background, he turned to face you, his expression serious yet kind. “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he began, his voice carrying a note of hesitation that immediately drew your attention. he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

you nodded, sensing the gravity of the moment. “what’s on your mind?” you asked, your voice gentle, hoping to offer him the space to express whatever was troubling him.

his gaze dropped to his hands, fidgeting slightly as he tried to find the right words. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us—about the time we’ve spent together recently,” he said slowly. “and i’ve realized something. i really care about you. i mean, more than just as a friend.”

his words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in his tone. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a reflection of the feelings he was trying to articulate. the room seemed to hold its breath as he continued. “i like you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly with the weight of his confession. “i’ve had feelings for you for a long time now. and i know things have been really tough for you lately, and i don’t want to push you or make things harder. but i want to be honest about how I feel. i'dd really like us to be more than just friends, if you’re open to it.”

the confession was delivered with such earnestness that it left you momentarily speechless. you could sense the depth of his feelings, and though you were still healing from the end of your relationship with yoongi, his words resonated with a different kind of warmth. you took a deep breath, your mind racing through the emotions and thoughts that his confession stirred. the memories of your relationship with Yoongi were still fresh and raw, and you found yourself hesitating. there was a part of you that wanted to take this chance with taehyung, who had been a steadfast support throughout your struggles. but you were also wary of comparing what you had with him to what you once had with yoongi.

his eyes were searching yours, filled with hope and a hint of nervousness. he had laid his heart bare, and the vulnerability of the moment was palpable. you could see how much courage it had taken for him to speak up, and you didn’t want to hurt him with a response that might imply you weren’t ready or that you were comparing him to your ex.

the silence stretched, and you could feel the weight of your indecision. you wanted to be honest, but you also didn’t want to diminish the significance of bis feelings. finally, you nodded slowly, trying to give him an answer that reflected your own complex emotions without dismissing his sincerity.

“tae,” you began softly, “i really appreciate you being so honest with me. i’ve been through a lot recently, and i’m still figuring things out. but i like you. i like you, too. and I’d like to see where this could go, if you’re willing to give it a chance.” a look of relief washed over his face, and he reached out to take your hand gently.

“thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. “i know this is a lot to take in, and i’m not asking for anything to be decided right away. i just wanted you to know how i feel.” you squeezed his hand, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. the connection between you was different from what you had experienced with yoongi, but there was something undeniably comforting about taehyung’s presence.

taehyung kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, enjoying the closeness. the laughter and conversation flowed easily, a stark contrast to the loneliness you had felt just weeks before. as the night wore on, the atmosphere between you grew more charged, a testament to the deepening bond you were forming.

the way he looked at you was heartfelt, and the sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of adoration and hesitstion. his hand gently cupped your cheek, and as he leaned in, you could feel the anticipation build. when his lips finally touched yours, it was a soft, exploratory kiss. it started with a gentle press, a tender connection that seemed to convey all the unspoken emotions between you. as the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, a beautiful expression of the feelings that had grown between you. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his touch both comforting and exhilarating.

just as the kiss reached its most intense, the sudden slam of the dorm door broke the moment. yoongi, disheveled and clearly inebriated, stumbled into the room. his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him—taehyung’s arms around you, the lingering kiss that had just ended. for a few tense seconds, he stood there, frozen in place. his face was a mix of anger and confusion, the alcohol exacerbating his emotions.

taehyung, noticing the intrusion, broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder. he met yoongi’s gaze with a steely calmness. “goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. he leaned in to give you a quick, but gentle kiss on the cheek. “i'll see you tomorrow.”

he stood up, walking towards the other man with a confident stride. the two men exchanged a long, menacing look—taehyung’s eyes filled with a defiant challenge, while yoongi’s gaze was a mix of fury and jealousy. without a word, taehyung walked past him and out of the dorm, leaving the tension palpable in the room.

as his footsteps faded away, you turned to face your ex-boyfriend, trying to ignore the turmoil brewing inside you. you busied yourself with preparing for bed, the normalcy of the routine contrasting sharply with the emotional upheaval. you could feel his eyes on you, his presence a constant reminder of the past you were trying to move beyond.

after a few minutes of strained silence, yoongi’s voice broke through, laced with a mocking tone. “your boyfriend’s cute,” he said, the words dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and envy. you looked over at him, your emotions still raw. “well, your girlfriend’s even cuter,” you retorted, trying to mask the hurt with a sharp edge.

his expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze intense. “her name is joohyun,” he said, his voice flat. the correction struck you like a physical blow. the way he spoke about her only deepened the wound. you forced a smile, though it felt brittle and insincere. “huh, pretty name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

you and yoongi locked eyes, the shared pain between you palpable. there was an unspoken understanding in the look you exchanged—an acknowledgment of the hurt and regret that lay beneath the surface. it was a moment of raw honesty, even though no words were spoken. with a final, heavy sigh, you turned away and made your way to your room. the quiet of the dorm was almost suffocating, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air. as you closed the door behind you, the tears you had been holding back finally fell, mingling with the sorrow of a relationship that had ended and the pain of seeing him move on so quickly.

the days following the confrontation had been a delicate balance of strained civility and simmering tension. the air between you and yoongi had shifted from outright hostility to a more subdued, yet pervasive, awkwardness. he no longer expressed his anger through harsh words or glaring silence; instead, he resorted to mocking comments and passive-aggressive remarks, all aimed at your budding relationship.

every morning, you would encounter yoongi in the shared spaces of the dorm. he had taken to casually taunting you about your new relationship, his comments laced with a biting edge that made your stomach churn. the kitchen became a battlefield of sarcastic jabs and forced smiles.

one morning, as you were preparing coffee, he sauntered into the kitchen, his demeanor as nonchalant as ever. “so, how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you two planning a romantic dinner tonight? maybe you’ll even get a serenade.”

you shot him a pointed glare but kept your response measured. “taehyung’s been really great. thanks for asking,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady as you poured the coffee. he chuckled, leaning against the counter. “oh, i'm sure he is. i mean, he’s perfect, right? must be nice to have someone who’s always ‘so thoughtful’ and ‘so caring.’”

the irritation was mounting, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on your breakfast. you had hoped the passive-aggressive remarks would eventually stop, but they only seemed to escalate. each day brought new comments, each more pointed and bitter than the last. it was clear that his jealousy was consuming him, and he channeled it into these relentless, mocking jabs.

the situation reached a new level of discomfort one afternoon in the common room. you were sitting on the couch, absorbed in a book, when he plopped down beside you. he took a swig from his beer, his eyes flicking over to you with a smirk. “let me ask you something,” he said, his tone condescending. within a second, he was close. much too close. “has he fucked you yet? how good does he fuck you?”

the question hit you like a physical blow, the frustration and hurt that had been building up finally reaching a boiling point. you slammed the book shut and stood up abruptly, facing him. “you know what, yoongi? i'm sick of your shit. i don't give you shit for joohyun, you should think of doing the same.”

he raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “for someone who can take dick so well, a joke is where you draw the line?”

that was the final straw. without thinking, you reached out and aimed a slap at his face. the movement was swift and fueled by a mixture of anger and hurt, but his reflexes were quicker than you were. he caught your wrist before your hand could make contact, his grip firm and unyielding.

his eyes locked onto yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. there was a tense silence as he held your wrist, both of you caught in the charged moment. the air was thick with unspoken words, and the close proximity made it impossible to ignore the intensity between you. “don’t,” he said, his voice low and strained. “don’t think you can just lash out at me like that.”

you tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip only tightened. “let me go, yoongi,” you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. instead of releasing you, he used his free hand to brace himself against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface. his face was inches from yours, and the heat of his breath mingled with yours. the physical closeness was overwhelming, a stark reminder of the intimacy you once shared and had now become a battlefield of emotions.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the intensity of the confrontation was palpable, a fierce clash of emotions and desires. you could see the conflict in his eyes—his anger, his frustration, but also a lingering trace of hurt and longing. it was as if he was struggling to reconcile his feelings with the reality of the situation.

“you think you can just move on like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “like it’s all so easy for you?” you met his gaze, your own emotions mirrored in the depth of his eyes. “i learned from the best.”

the proximity and tension were almost unbearable. you could feel the conflict within him, the way he fought to suppress the remnants of his feelings for you. his grip on your wrist remained firm, but the energy between you was shifting. it was a battle between holding on and letting go, a struggle that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. finally, with a visible effort, he loosened his grip and stepped back, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. “fine,” he muttered, turning away. “you wanna act like you love him? go ahead.”

you rubbed your wrist where his grip had left a mark, feeling a mixture of relief and residual anger. the moment of intense proximity had left you both emotionally drained. his retreating figure was a reminder of the complex and painful dynamics between you. with a deep sigh, you turned and walked away from the common room, heading towards your bedroom. the confrontation had left you shaken, and the sense of unresolved tension lingered in the air. as you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing.

as you lay in bed, trying to process the emotional upheaval of the day, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the light from the screen cut through the darkness, drawing your attention. you reached over and picked it up, blinking as you saw taehyung’s name displayed on the screen. you opened the message, your heart lifting slightly at the sight of his familiar text— reading in big letters—“dinner tomorrow at 8? i’ve got a place in mind that i think you’ll really like. let me know if you’re up for it!”

a small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. you could practically read them in his voice. his thoughtful gesture was a welcome distraction from the turmoil you had experienced earlier. his consideration for your feelings and his attempt to bring a bit of normalcy and joy into your life was a balm to your frazzled emotions.

you quickly typed out a response, your fingers moving with a newfound eagerness—“sounds wonderful, tae. i can't wait to see you!”

as soon as you hit send, a wave of relief washed over you. the thought of spending time with taehyung, away from the tension of the dorm and the echoes of the day’s confrontations, was comforting. it was a chance to focus on something positive and to enjoy a moment of connection that wasn’t tinged with the complexities and pain of your past. you placed your phone back on the nightstand, feeling a bit lighter.

the following day, a faint sense of normalcy had begun to return. after a well-rested night, you woke up with a renewed focus, determined to distract yourself from the emotional turmoil by engaging in a productive task. you decided that tidying up your dorm would be a good way to occupy your time and perhaps lift your spirits.

you spent the morning sorting through clutter, dusting shelves, and organizing your space. the rhythmic movements and the satisfaction of seeing your environment gradually transform from chaotic to orderly provided a small, tangible sense of accomplishment. the task was therapeutic in its own way, offering a reprieve from the emotional noise of recent days.

by the afternoon, the dorm was clean and well-organized. the transformation was striking; the living room and kitchen, once cluttered and disheveled, now looked inviting and serene. you had even taken the time to freshen up the bathroom and arrange the space with thoughtful touches, adding a few decorative elements to make it feel more homely.

as evening approached, you started to prepare for your date. you had planned to meet him at a cozy, little restaurant he had mentioned, and the anticipation of the evening ahead made you feel a bit lighter. you took a leisurely shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and clearing your mind. afterward, you carefully selected an outfit that made you feel both comfortable and confident. you chose a simple, elegant dress that highlighted your features without being overly flashy—a perfect balance for the occasion. it was a tight, red dress. it was gorgeous, falling to your knees and highlighting your curves. you completed the look with a touch of makeup and a soft, understated hairstyle that framed your face gently.

with everything in place, you stood in front of the mirror, admiring your reflection. the process of getting ready had been a pleasant distraction, and now, as you looked at yourself, you felt a renewed sense of confidence and excitement for the evening. the image in the mirror was a stark contrast to the person who had been struggling just days before.

unbeknownst to you, yoongi had returned from his classes earlier than expected. he had slipped into the dorm quietly, intent on grabbing a few things before heading out again. the dorm was eerily quiet as he entered, the door closing softly behind him.

he made his way through the living room, heading toward his room to collect his belongings. as he passed by the open door of the bathroom, he noticed the activity in the adjoining room. the sight of the living space—neat and inviting—caught his attention. but it was the reflection in the mirror that drew him in.

there, in the hallway, he saw you standing in front of the mirror. the soft, golden light from the lamp in the corner bathed you in a warm glow, making you appear almost ethereal. the transformation from the emotional turmoil of recent days to the poised and elegant figure in front of him was striking. he froze, his gaze fixed on you. he watched as you made subtle adjustments to your outfit and checked your reflection. your movements were graceful, and there was a serene expression on your face that he hadn’t seen in a long time. it was a side of you that was vibrant and alive, and it stirred something within him—a mixture of regret, longing, and unresolved feelings.

he stood there in silence, a few steps away from where you were, feeling the weight of the moment. the sight of you, looking so composed and ready for a night out, was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that had marked the past weeks. It was as if he was seeing a side of you that he had forgotten or perhaps never fully appreciated.

as you turned away from the mirror, a contented smile on your lips, you noticed yoongi standing there, his presence suddenly apparent. the brief moment of surprise on your face quickly shifted to a neutral expression, though the brief eye contact was enough to convey a silent acknowledgment of the situation.

“yoongi,” you said, trying to keep your tone steady. “i didn’t realize you were back.” he nodded, his expression a mix of contemplation and something more guarded. “yeah. i didn’t mean to interrupt.”

you shook your head, a small smile forming as you turned your back to him, facing the mirror once more, “it’s okay. i was just getting ready for a date tonight. taehyung’s picking me up soon.” the mention of his name seemed to spark a flicker of emotion in yoongi’s eyes. he took a deep breath, trying to mask the jealousy that had become so familiar.

you had expected yoongi would just walk away while you faced the mirror, a silent figure behind you. instead, you heard his footsteps approaching, the soft thud of his shoes against the wooden floor echoing in the room. your breath caught in your throat, and you froze in place, eyes widening as he stopped just behind you.

“that dress looks so good on you,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine. you saw his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you. “you should pair it with the gold necklace i bought you. it looks so fucking good on you.” his fingers brushed the back of your neck lightly, tracing the spot where the necklace would rest.

a shiver ran through you, your skin tingling where he touched. his hand lingered, his fingers warm and firm against your skin, and you tensed up, torn between pulling away and leaning into his touch. “does he know you like being touched here?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

you wanted to speak, to tell him to stop, but the words caught in your throat. you just let him, your heart pounding in your chest, guilt and desire warring within you. his fingers glided down the side of your neck, and you bit your lip, a soft whimper escaping you.

he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply. “did you pick this perfume because it's my favorite, or his?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur. you felt his breath against your skin, warm and intoxicating, and you shivered again, torn between resisting and giving in.

your mind screamed at you to stop him, to think of taehyung, but your body betrayed you. yoongi's hands slid around your waist, pulling you back against him, his chest warm and solid against your back. you felt his lips graze your neck, feather-light, and a soft moan escaped your lips. “yoongi, please,” you managed to whisper, though you couldn't quite say whether you were begging him to stop or to continue. he turned you around slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself looking up at him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

his hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a slow, intense kiss. you felt a surge of guilt, knowing you were betraying your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but kiss back, your hands gripping the front of yoongi's shirt. the kiss deepened, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you felt yourself melting into him, your resolve crumbling. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you clung to him, lost in the heat and the intensity of the moment.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “you feel that too, don't you?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. you could only nod, your heart aching with the realization of what just happened, and what was about to happen. it was about to happen because you were weak against him, you were weak in the knees for him.

yoongi's lips crashed against yours, urgent and demanding, and you responded with equal fervor, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer. he lifted you effortlessly, setting you down on the edge of the bed, his hands exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. your dress slipped down further, pooling around your waist as his hands roamed over your exposed skin. his mouth followed the path of his hands, trailing hot kisses down your tits, making you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. he obliged, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, revealing the toned muscles of his torso. your hands explored his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. history had come to repeat itself once more, under the worst circumstancee possible.

his hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them. his lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity that made you moan into his mouth. he lifted you further onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips as he settled between your legs. the friction of his body against yours was almost too much to bear, and you felt a desperate need for him, a need that only he could satisfy.

“tell me you want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with desire. “i need you, yoongi.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. his hands slid beneath your dress, pulling it off completely, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. his eyes roamed over your body, dark with lust, and you felt a flush of heat spread through your core under his intense gaze. his fingers trailed down your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you. he touched you with a reverence that made your heart ache, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. when his fingers finally found your pussy, you gasped, your body arching into his touch.

he teased you mercilessly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, building the tension within you until you were a trembling mess beneath him. just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, his tongue flicking against your clit with a skill that left you breathless. your hands fisted in the sheets, your body writhing beneath his touch as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy. you felt the tension building, a coil tightening within you, ready to snap. and when it did, you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

but yoongi didn't stop. he continued to lick your pussy clean, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering, boneless mess beneath him. only then did he rise, his eyes dark with desire as he shed the last of his clothing, revealing just how hard his dick was, how badly he needed you.

he positioned himself over you, his body aligning with yours in a way that felt both natural and inevitable. he spread you slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes locked on yours as he filled you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. he moved within you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured, designed to drive you both to the brink. you met his movements eagerly, your bodies moving in perfect sync, a dance as old as time.

the pleasure built between you, an unstoppable force that drove you both higher and higher. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. he watched the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the way your pussy clenched around his cock. you could feel the tension building again, that familiar coil tightening within you.

and when it finally snapped, you came together, your cries mingling in the air as your bodies shuddered with the force of your release. he collapsed beside you, his chest heaving with exertion, his skin slick with sweat.

reality hit you like a cold wave. the warmth of the moment dissipated, replaced by a chilling realization of what you had just done. you quickly disentangled yourself from him, your movements frantic as you reached for your discarded clothes. you dressed hastily, your mind racing with the implications of your actions.

he watched you, his eyes narrowing in anger and confusion as you fixed yourself up. “where are you going?” he demanded, his voice laced with frustration.

“i have a date, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, your voice barely above a whisper. the weight of your betrayal hung heavy in the air, suffocating you. without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the room, leaving him behind, fuming and bewildered.

you ran to meet taehyung, your heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that the consequences of what had just happened would haunt you. but for now, you had to face him, pretending nothing was amiss, even as the memory of yoongi's touch lingered on your skin.

taehyung had gone to great lengths to reserve seats at a high-end restaurant, a place that was notoriously difficult to get into. he checked his watch anxiously, noting that you were fifteen minutes late. his fingers drummed on the table, a subtle display of his concern and impatience. when you finally arrived, slightly breathless and flushed, his worried expression softened into a relieved smile. “hey, i was starting to get worried,” he said, standing up to pull out your chair.

“i'm so sorry, tae. traffic was horrible,” you lied smoothly, sliding into the seat he had so thoughtfully prepared for you. your heart pounded in your chest, guilt gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast. he settled back into his chair, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “i'm just glad you're here. i hope you’re hungry. i heard the food here is amazing.”

you forced a smile, trying to push the thoughts of yoongi from your mind. “yeah, I’m starving,” you replied, even though the knot of guilt in your stomach made the thought of eating almost unbearable. as the waiter approached, taehyung took charge, ordering a selection of dishes he thought you would enjoy. he had clearly put a lot of thought into this evening, and the realization made the weight of your earlier actions press even harder on your conscience.

throughout the meal, he was his usual charming self, effortlessly keeping the conversation light and engaging. he talked about his day, the latest campus gossip, and shared funny anecdotes that had you laughing despite the turmoil inside you. but as much as you tried to act normal, the memory of yoongi's touch lingered, his words echoing in your mind. you could still feel the ghost of his hands on your skin, the taste of his kiss on your lips. each time taehyung reached out to touch your hand or brush a strand of hair from your face, you flinched inwardly, the guilt intensifying with each tender gesture.

“are you okay?” he asked at one point, his brow furrowing in concern. “you seem a bit distracted.”

“i’m fine,” you assured him quickly, forcing another smile. “just a little tired, i guess.” he nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. still, he didn’t press the issue, instead continuing to share stories and keep the atmosphere light. you were grateful for his efforts, even as your mind continued to spiral with guilt.

when dessert arrived, he insisted you try a bite of his favorite dish. he held the fork out to you, his eyes filled with affection and hope. you leaned forward, accepting the bite, and tried to focus on the sweetness of the dessert rather than the bitterness of your betrayal.

as the evening drew to a close, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “i had a great time tonight,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “i’ve been looking forward to this the past day.”

“me too,” you replied, though your voice sounded hollow to your own ears. the sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn, and you had to look away to hide the tears that threatened to spill. he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. “you know, i love that perfume on you. it’s my favorite.”

his words were like a knife to your heart, and you had to swallow hard to keep from breaking down. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. the irony of his compliment twisted painfully inside you, knowing that it was yoongi’s favorite too.

after settling the bill, taehyung stood and helped you with your coat, his hands lingering on your shoulders in a way that was both comforting and suffocating. as you left the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the warmth of his touch only intensified the cold knot of guilt in your stomach.

when he walked you to the door of your room, he leaned in for a gentle kiss, his lips soft and sweet against yours. you kissed him back, but all you could think about was yoongi, and the betrayal that lay between you. “i’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with promise and affection. “goodnight, tae,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. as soon as the door closed behind you, the weight of your guilt crashed down on you with full force. you leaned against the door, tears streaming down your face as taehyung's words echoed in your mind.

“i love that perfume on you.”

the next morning, you walked into your english literature class, your mind still reeling from the events of the previous night. taehyung was already there, saving a seat for you beside him. he smiled brightly as you approached, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. “good morning!” he greeted, his voice warm and cheerful. “i hope you slept well.”

you forced a smile, hoping to mask the turmoil inside you. “morning, tae. i did, thanks.” you sat down beside him, trying to ignore the heavy weight of yoongi's gaze from across the room. as the professor began the lecture, you felt his eyes on you, burning into your back. it was impossible to concentrate on the discussion about shakespeare’s sonnets when all you could think about was the intense connection you had shared with him the night before.

every time you glanced his way, he was watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite decipher.

taehyung leaned over, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. “hey, jackson's throwing another party this weekend. he really wants us to come.” you nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the feeling of yoongi's eyes on you. “that sounds okay. are you sure it’ll be safe this time?”

he chuckled, his smile reassuring. “yeah, don’t worry. we’ll be going as a couple this time. it’ll be safer with us together.” you felt a pang of guilt at his words, the memory of your betrayal fresh in your mind. “that sounds great,” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice. “i’m looking forward to it.”

from the corner of your eye, you saw yoongi's reaction. he scoffed softly to himself, a derisive sound that made your heart skip a beat. his expression hardened, and you could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he made a mental note. he leaned over to his friend and whispered something, his eyes still locked on you. you could only imagine what he was thinking, the anger and hurt simmering beneath his calm facade.

the rest of the class passed in a blur, the tension between you and yoongi palpable. when the lecture finally ended, you gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere. as you walked out of the classroom with taehyung, his arm casually draped over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel yoongi's gaze follow you. the guilt gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the betrayal that lay between you and the man you had once trusted implicitly.

your boyfriend chattered happily beside you, oblivious to the turmoil inside you. “it’s going to be a great party,” he said, his excitement infectious. “i’ll make sure we have a fantastic time.” you nodded, forcing a smile as you leaned into his embrace. “i’m sure it will be, tae.” but as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the upcoming party would be anything but simple.

the rest of the week passed in a haze of guilt and tension. you did your best to ignore yoongi, avoiding his gaze in class and dodging any potential encounters. every time you saw taehyung, his genuine smiles and sweet gestures only made the guilt gnaw at you more fiercely. each night, you replayed the scene with yoongi over and over in your mind, the memory of his touch both a torment and a temptation you struggled to forget.

as the weekend approached, you found yourself increasingly anxious. you couldn't risk another encounter with your ex, not with taehyung's trust and affection weighing so heavily on your conscience. when the night of jackson’s party arrived, you decided to get ready in taehyung’s dorm, hoping the proximity to him would keep you grounded.

he watched you as you prepared, his eyes filled with admiration. “you look amazing,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “i’m so lucky to have you.” his words were like daggers to your heart. “thanks, tae,” you managed to say, forcing a smile as you adjusted your dress. the weight of his love and trust pressed heavily on your shoulders, almost unbearable in its intensity.

when you finally arrived at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the music thumped loudly, and the room was filled with people dancing and laughing. you clung to taehyung’s arm, drawing comfort from his presence as you tried to push thoughts of yoongi from your mind.

but it was impossible to ignore him. the moment you entered the room, your eyes locked onto him, standing across the room with joohyun. ahe was stunning, clinging to him with a possessive air, but his eyes never left you. they burned with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

in an effort to make you jealous, yoongi pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers in a heated kiss. they danced with his arm around her waist, his hands roaming over her body, all for you to see. the sight made your blood boil with a mix of anger and something else you didn’t want to admit. you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. fueled by a few drinks and a need to reclaim some semblance of control, you found yourself straddling taehyung’s lap. his eyes widened in surprise but quickly darkened with desire as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. you made sure yoongi could see every movement, every kiss, every touch.

his reaction was immediate. his eyes darkened with fury as he watched you with him. joohyun, oblivious to the tension, continued to grind against him, but his attention was solely on you. you could see the rage and jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior.

after a few more drinks, yoongi whispered something to one of the guys, a sly smile playing on his lips. moments later, the announcement was made, cutting through the thick atmosphere—a game of truth or dare. you didn’t want to play, sensing the potential for disaster, but taehyung was eager, his excitement contagious. reluctantly, you agreed, hoping it would remain harmless.

the game began innocuously enough. joohyun dared jackson to make out with one of the girls, and everyone laughed as he complied with exaggerated enthusiasm. the same girl had asked yoongi for his body count, and he responded with a smug smile, his high number drawing gasps and giggles. then it was his turn. his eyes locked onto you, a dangerous glint in them. just your luck. “truth or dare?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

you hesitated, your heart pounding. “truth,” you said, hoping it would be the safer option.

a slow, predatory smile spread across his face as the room bubbled with anticipation. “is it true you had sex with me an hour before your date with taehyung?”

the room went silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. despite the music, it was practically silent. nobody said a word. you felt the blood drain from your face as everyone’s eyes turned to you. taehyung’s grip on you loosened, his expression one of shock and betrayal. you couldn’t deny it. the truth was written all over your face. “taehyung,” you stammered, your voice breaking, and it was all you could say. it was the only thing you could utter out.

he didn’t wait to hear your explanation. he stood up abruptly, his face a mask of hurt and anger. ignoring your pleas and apologies, he walked away, leaving you to face the aftermath of your actions.

joohyun turned on yoongi, her fists pounding against his chest as she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face. he barely reacted, his eyes locked on you with a mix of anger and something darker. he watched you run after taehyung, his gaze intense and unyielding. the damage had been done, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol or the pure rage he had been harboring for so long, but he didn't regret a minute of it. in fact, he thought of it as an accomplishment. even as you left him in the dust, running after taehyung, he remained stoic, no regrets.

the rain had started to pour down relentlessly as you sprinted after taehyung, your heart pounding in your chest. each raindrop felt like a heavy weight, mirroring the guilt that had settled like lead in your stomach. his figure was just ahead, his silhouette barely visible through the downpour. “taehyung!” you called out, your voice breaking as you slipped on the wet pavement, scrambling to catch up. he didn’t turn around, but you could see the tension in his posture. desperation fueled your steps as you finally reached him, grabbing his arm gently.

“taehyung, please, just listen to me,” you begged, your voice cracking. tears streamed down your face, mixing with the rain that drenched you both. “i’m so sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face was a mask of pain, his own tears mingling with the rain. his eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now cold and hurt. “why?” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “why did you do this?”

you felt your heart shatter as you saw the depth of his anguish. “i don’t know,” you sobbed. “it was a mistake, a terrible, horrible mistake. please, just give me a chance to make things right. i love you, taehyung. i love you so much. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

he shook his head slowly, his tears falling freely now. “you can’t just fix this with words. i needed to trust you, and now i don’t know if i can ever do that again.” his voice was filled with a deep sadness, as if he was mourning something he had lost. “maybe it was too soon for us. i shouldn’t have asked for a relationship this early.”

you felt your heart breaking further at his words. “please, tae,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t lose you. i know i messed up, but i'l do anything to make it right.”

taehyung’s gaze softened slightly, though the pain remained. “we can stay friends,” he said quietly. “but i can’t be with you like this. not after what’s happened. i love you more than yoongi ever could, and you just don't get that. you don't want that.” the words hit you like a physical blow, but before you could say anything more, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the rain. you watched him go, your heart aching with the weight of his rejection. as you trudged back to your dorm, the storm outside mirrored the storm within you.

when you finally reached your dorm, your rage was uncontrollable. the sight of yoongi, who was lounging casually in your room, made the anger inside you boil over. his relaxed demeanor only fueled your fury.

“how’s your boyfriend doing?” he asked, his voice dripping with casual indifference. without thinking, you slapped him hard across the face, the sting of the contact a fleeting relief against your raging emotions. his head snapped to the side, but he remained calm, almost as if he expected the reaction. “guess he didn’t take it so well,” he said coolly, his tone dismissive.

you reached to slap him again, but he caught your wrist in a firm grip, his expression hardening. “we’re not doing this shit again,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering.

you couldn't contain yourself. “i fucking hate you, i hate you so fucking much, you asshole.” he took your rage without flinching, his eyes cold and distant. “hate me all you want,” he said quietly. “but you wanted it as much as i did. this was never just about me. you played a part in this, too.”

he turned and walked away, disappearing into his room and slamming the door behind him. the finality of the sound echoed through the empty space, leaving you alone with your tormenting thoughts and the chaos of your emotions. you sank to the floor, your back against the door, tears mingling with the remnants of your rage. the reality of your situation crashed down on you, and the silence of the dorm was a painful reminder of how far things had gone wrong.

the days following the confrontation with yoongi were a blur of emotions. you spent your time in isolation, avoiding both him and taehyung. your anger towards him made you keep your distance from him, and your guilt over hurting taehyung drove you to avoid him as well. the weight of your actions hung over you like a dark cloud, making each step heavy and burdensome.

as you walked to your class, your thoughts were consumed by the aching emptiness of your days. you barely noticed the students passing by until a sharp voice cut through your fog of thoughts. “look who we have here.” joohyun's voice was icy, filled with venom. she stepped into your path, blocking your way. her eyes were filled with a mix of anger and contempt. “be honest, do you prefer being a slut, or a whore?”

you looked up at her, a mixture of weariness and resignation on your face. “i’m not here to fight,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “i don’t want any trouble.” but she didn’t relent. “you think you can just waltz around like you didn’t ruin everything? you’re a fucking homewrecker, in case you weren't aware. a cheater too, apperantly.”

the words cut deep, but you tried to stay composed. “did he forget to mention that he came onto me?” you replied, your voice trembling slightly but resolute. her face turned a deep shade of red, her anger boiling over. without warning, she slapped you across the face. the sting was sharp, but you kept your gaze steady, refusing to show any more emotion. her reaction was immediate, a mix of frustration and rage that only intensified when she saw your stoic expression.

“you think you’re tough, is that it?” she practically hissed, raising her hand to strike you again. but before she could make contact, a firm hand grabbed her wrist.

“enough,” taehyung’s voice was low and commanding. he stepped in between you and her, his eyes blazing with anger. “get out of here, joohyun. you’ve made your point.”

her eyes widened in shock, and she glared at taehyung with a mix of hatred and disbelief. “you’re defending her? after everything she’s done—to me? to you?”

“fuck off,” taehyung said, his voice cold and final. “leave it be.” she hesitated for a moment, her fury still evident, but his presence and his words were enough to drive her away. she stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she disappeared from view.

taehyung turned back to you, his expression softening as he took in your tear-streaked face. “are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice filled with concern. the tears that filled your eyes were not just from joohyun’s attack but from the overwhelming guilt that plagued you. “i don’t know,” you whispered. “i'm just so sorry, taehyung.” without a word, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the warmth of his gesture was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

“come to my dorm,” he said softly. “we can skip class. you need a break, and i need to talk to you.” you nodded, your heart aching with a mix of relief and remorse. as you walked with him to his dorm, the weight of the past few days seemed to lift slightly. for the first time in days, you felt a sense of temporary respite.

over the next few days, you stayed at his dorm, avoiding your own and the confrontations with yoongi. you and taehyung spent time together, trying to find solace in each other’s presence, though the shadow of your guilt never fully left you. you didn’t return to your dorm, leaving yoongi to wonder about your whereabouts and adding another layer of complexity to the already tangled situation.

the separation from your own space and the constant presence of taehyung provided a small measure of peace, though it was tinged with the ache of unresolved issues and the deep scars of your recent actions. the turmoil within you was far from over, but for now, taehyung’s presence was a balm to your weary soul. even if he was there as a friend, and nothing more.

that's how it was supposed to be, at least. taehyung’s dorm was a sanctuary of quiet and warmth as you both settled onto his bed, the dim light of the lamp casting a soft glow around the room. you lay with your head resting comfortably in his lap, your body feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths as he stroked your hair with a tender, almost absent-minded affection. the movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, his focus was solely on you, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.

he couldn’t help himself from leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered, and you turned your head slightly to meet his lips with your own. the gentle touch of the kiss quickly escalated into something more passionate, as if the raw emotions and unspoken needs were finally finding their outlet.

his breath was warm against your neck, sending goosebumps across your skin as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. you gasped, arching into him, and his responding growl of desire was like a switch that had been flipped. suddenly, the gentle caresses turned to something more urgent, more needy. your hands found the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head to reveal the tapestry of abs that adorned his torso. your fingertips traced the muscles, committing the patterns to memory as his hands found the zipper of your shorts.

as the rest of the fabric fell away, the room grew hotter, the air thick with anticipation. his eyes raked over you, taking in every curve, every inch, as if committing you to memory. the way he looked at you made you feel beautiful, desired, and your heart raced in response. his fingers skimmed over your hips, your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. you could feel his restraint, his need to savor every moment, to make sure this was what you truly wanted. but the way your body responded to his touch, the way you leaned into his kisses, the way your breath hitched when his hands found your tits, left no room for doubt.

his mouth found your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and you felt yourself melting into the couch. your legs entwined with his, pulling him closer, until there was no space between you. the fabric of your underwear was the only barrier left, and it was as if it dissolved under the heat of his gaze. your skin was slick with sweat, and the sound of your breathing filled the room, a symphony of want and need. his hands moved lower, and you could feel his cock pressing against you. the realization sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you moan his name into the quiet night. and as he slipped inside you, he knew that this was a moment he'd cherish forever, even if it was the only one he'd ever have.

his strokes were deliberate, each one aimed to make you feel every inch of him. you matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your body moving in perfect harmony with his. the couch creaked beneath you, a testament to the passion that was unfolding. the friction was delicious, a sweet burn that built with every thrust, until you were on the edge of something so intense, you weren't sure you could handle it. taehyung's eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw the same need, the same desperation to make this moment last. because he knew it was fleeting.

your breaths grew shallower, your body tightening around him, and when you finally fell over that edge, the world shattered into a million brilliant pieces. his own climax followed shortly after, a groan torn from his chest that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment. he collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting, his heart pounding in sync with yours. for a moment, you just lay there, the only sound the ragged breaths that filled the room. the air was electric, charged with the intensity of what had just transpired.

the reality of the moment began to settle in. you hurriedly started to dress, the weight of what had just happened mixing with a lingering sense of guilt and confusion. just as you were pulling on your clothes, the door to taehyung’s dorm creaked open, and you froze, recognizing yoongi’s familiar silhouette in the doorway.

his eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—both of you half-naked and disheveled. the raw pain and betrayal on his face were palpable, and without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dorm. the door slammed shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

your heart raced as you looked at taehyung, your own shock and guilt mingling with the urgency of the moment. You wanted to call out for yoongi, to explain, but the words caught in your throat. taehyung, noticing the turmoil in your eyes, placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“go after him,” he urged softly. “fix things with him. i know you love him, and no matter how much i love you, i'll never be him.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching at his words. you couldn't imagine how much it hurt, how selflessly he could utter such a thing. you gave him a small, grateful smile, one that was tinged with sadness. “i love you, tae,” you whispered. he nodded, his own eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “i love you, too.” with one last, lingering glance at taehyung, you dashed out of the dorm, searching for yoongi. so cruelly did you fail to notice just how selfless taehyung was. he cursed himself as he watched the door slam, allowing himself to slide back onto the couch, just minutes beforehand graced with your warmth. now, empty. it was empty, and he was alone. just as he always had been.

the corridor felt endless, your footsteps echoing as you chased after him. the guilt weighed heavily on your heart, and you knew you had to make things right. when you finally caught up with him, he was standing alone in the hallway, his shoulders slumped, his face a mask of hurt and anger. you approached him cautiously, your voice trembling. “yoongi, wait.”

his eyes, red-rimmed and filled with pain, met yours. “he fucked you good, didn't he?” he asked bitterly. “just like that? after everything?”

“we broke up, yoongi,” you reminded him, your voice breaking. “we broke up, and it killed me. and i know it fucking killed you, too.” his gaze softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “you broke up with me,” he insinuated. “you broke up with me, and i never stopped loving you.”

“i know,” you interrupted, your voice filled with regret. “i never stopped loving you either, but it's fucked up, yoongi.” he looked away, his fists clenched at his sides. for a minute, he remained silent. when what felt like forever had finally passed, he turned to face you, his eyes red and weary. “i’ve already made my decision,” he said, his voice flat. “i’m switching to hyesan. i’m leaving.”

the words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. “you can’t go,” you pleaded. “we can work this out. we can fix things.” his expression hardened, the hurt and anger clear in his eyes. “i can’t stay. why the fuck should i stay? every time i look at you, i see what i lost. i see the mess we’re in.”

“it’s cold up there,” you whispered, trying to reach out to him. it was all you could say. it was cold up there—it was freezing up there. it was the kind of cold that would destroy him.

“can’t be any colder than here,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “can’t be any colder than how it feels to be with you now.” his words were like ice, cutting deep into your already shattered heart. you struggled to hold back your tears, feeling the weight of his anger and pain. “please, yoongi,” you begged. “don’t leave. i’m sorry. i never meant for any of this to happen.”

his face twisted with anguish, and the pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “i hate the cold,” he confirmed, his voice trembling. you knew, you knew how much he despised it. “but i hate this even more. i hate feeling like this. i hate knowing that everything we had is gone.”

the rawness of his words left you feeling hollow, and you could no longer contain the tears that streamed down your face. “i love you, yoongi,” you cried. “i need you to stay. i don’t know how to fix this without you.”

his resolve seemed to waver for a moment, his own tears mixing with the frustration in his eyes. “i don’t know if we can fix it,” he said, his voice cracking. “i don’t know if we can keep going like this.” his words was ruthless, tearing at both of you in ways that felt almost unbearable. you cried together, the shared pain of the moment only amplifying the hurt between you. the night air was cold, but the chill between you was far colder.

the morning light filtered weakly through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a muted glow over the space. you awoke to the sound of rustling and clinking, and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you saw yoongi packing his bags. his movements were methodical, but there was an air of finality to his actions that made your heart ache.

you sat on the couch, feeling the weight of the previous night’s argument like a heavy shroud. your eyes wandered around the room, finally landing on a photo album that had been left out after you’d been cleaning. it was an old, worn album from your childhood—a remnant of happier times that you had almost forgotten you had with you.

with trembling hands, you picked it up and opened it, the yellowed pages revealing memories long buried. as you flipped through the photos, each image seemed to tell a story of a past you had tried to move on from. there were pictures of your mother, her smile radiant and full of life, and snapshots of your father, who looked happy and carefree.

the room was silent except for the occasional sound of Yoongi’s belongings being packed. his eyes flickered toward you occasionally, but he said nothing, his expression unreadable. the sight of your mother’s face, so vibrant and alive in those photographs, made your tears flow uncontrollably. you traced her image with your fingers, feeling a pang of loss that had been buried under layers of time and pain.

he glanced over at you, his gaze softening as he saw the photos. “she was beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “you look just like her.”

you could only nod, your tears spilling freely now. yoongi’s heart ached as he watched you, his own emotions tumultuous as he observed the photo of your father. the realization struck him like a physical blow—he was about to leave you, the same way your father had left you. you and your mother. the parallel was almost too painful to bear, and the thought of repeating that kind of hurt was almost unbearable.

he approached you, his face a mix of anguish and determination. as he sat down beside you on the couch, he carefully closed the photo album, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. he gently brushed the tears from your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting.

“i’m not your father,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you looked up at him, the depth of his words hitting you with an unexpected force. the sincerity in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch made your heart ache with both relief and sorrow. the weight of the previous night’s arguments seemed to lift, if only slightly, as you felt the warmth of his presence.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold back the pain with his love. you buried your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound amidst the storm of your emotions. he held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered, “you let me in your heart, and only an idiot would walk out.”

you clung to him, your tears flowing freely as you let out the pain and the love that had been bottled up inside. the hurt of the previous night and the fear of losing him were all there, but so was the overwhelming need to hold on to what you had together.

“i love you, yoongi,” you whispered through your tears. “i never stopped loving you.”

his grip tightened around you, his voice breaking as he responded, “i love you too. more than anything. and I’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

the two of you held each other tightly, the words and emotions flowing freely as you shared a moment of raw vulnerability. the past few days had been a whirlwind of pain and confusion, but in that embrace, there was a glimmer of hope—a promise that despite everything, you were still connected.

as the minutes passed, the silence between you was filled with the gentle sounds of your breaths and the soft, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your small, intimate bubble of reconciliation. the pain of the past lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the strength of your love. in that moment, nothing mattered. not who his parents were, whose son he was. he was the love of your life.

✧.*

a/n: justice for taehyung?? this was so rushed!! thank you to those who made it to the end!!!

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mykoreanlove · 8 months

Text

Jackson on Kinjaz

Your phone was blowing up constantly.

„Oh my god, did you see this?????“, your friend asked.

With shaking hands you clicked on the link.

„I used to be critical on myself in my mind in a negative way. Not healthy. At all. I would call myself names and put myself down in my mind. I drank the most disgusting shakes for my body health but up here? I was rotting.“

„Yeah, yeah. I remember videos of that nasty shake. What did you put in there - chicken?“

„Gotta get my protein, man. But you know I would constantly feel guilty for what I have done or what I might do.“

„Like what?“

„Like. Okay, like did I practice enough? Is magic man good enough? What if I let everybody down? How will I cope? How will I live?

All these voices.. these fucking nagging voices were with me 24/7.“

„Damn that sounds tough. What did you do?“

„I thought it was impossible to fix because I tried so hard and nothing changed me. Or if it did, it would only last a couple of weeks and I’d be back to feeling like shit and talking down on myself.

Jackson, you moron, how could you do this? Did you really think you could make it? You don’t deserve this success. You don’t deserve to be happy.“

„Jackson, bro. I feel for you. Really.“

„Look, I’m just being honest. I would naturally think of punishments coming my way. I’d imagine injuring myself or loosing all my fans or money. I’d think of the most horrific shit late at night when I should be peacefully sleeping.

I would try to change my thoughts to change my feeling. I would rationalize my way out for hours to only find myself entering a new cave.“

„Like a merry go round.“

„Exactly, I was stuck. Same shit, different day. My gut always had this underlying feeling of tension.

I tried my best to give myself relief but like I said, I could not find Relief for longer than a week. Maybe a month at best.“

„Is that why you turned to alcohol? Because I remember you chugging down a bottle of Hennessy and thought to myself that’s not normal.“

„Oh, of course I started drinking more. I needed more. What used to make me pass out back then is like a cute little cocktail to me now.“

„Damn, that really is a lot to handle. Did you try other things, as well?“

„Look, I tried everything in the book. You name it, I tried it. Worked out. Meditated. Drank. Had sex. Nothing could give me what I craved so badly. Nothing. Until I found her.“

You swallowed hard.

You had no idea that he would share all this with the public. You were very well aware of his struggles but hearing him talk about them upset you. It broke your heart imagining him like that, all dim and broken.

Also, it made you nervous.

You had no idea that he would introduce you into the world like this.

You had no idea that he would reveal your relationship to his homies on a podcast.

Yet, you were intrigued.

„Her as in …?“

„You see, love is a funny thing, right? I didn’t plan to fall in love, nor did I want to but I kind of did. I found the one, man. I found the love of my life and I was lucky enough to have her love me back. Do you know how rare that is?“

„Yeah, it is for you. I remember our last interview and how we wanted to get you on tinder and shit.“

„Exactly! I used to be on my own for years. Years, man. I gave up on love completely, thinking this was meant for others but certainly not me. And then she came into my life. Like an angel that was coming down to help me. Save me even.“

„Your savior, huh?“

„I swear to god her love saved me. It saved me from drugs, it saved me from self destruction and first and foremost it saved me from myself. I gotta be honest man, if I hadn’t met y/n I wouldn’t even be here anymore.“

„Wow. That’s, that’s a pretty heavy revelation. I’m glad you’re doing better now.“

„Oh, I am. Management is probably going to kick my ass later but I don’t care. Let me loose fans, let me loose money. I don’t give a shit. If you support me now, you support the real Jackson Wang. And that’s me right now - happily coupled to the most beautiful soul on this planet. If you can’t handle that - my bad.“

„Okay guys, it’s over. China‘s most wanted bachelor is officially off the market. WHOOOO!!“

„Yeah, the king has finally found its queen.“

„So, what is she like?“

You paused the interview and took a deep breath. Jackson was very vocal of his feelings for you, but hearing it like that felt different. The biggest smile was plastered on his face as he was talking about you.

You as in his queen.

You as in future Miss Wang.

Hundreds of butterflies announced themselves in your stomach, making you giddy and joyful.

„Oh man, she is the best. Like, she is so breathtakingly beautiful. Inside and out. We have the best conversations. I feel like she is my best friend. Truly, no one gets me like she does. It’s just.. it’s effortlessly easy. We laugh a lot, we talk a lot, we share everything with each other. I’m just so grateful, man.“

„Yeah, I can see that. You’re grinning from ear to ear. Make sure to invite me to your wedding.“

„Like you invited me to your birthday?“

„Okayyyyy, let’s wrap it up. Guys, that’s it for today. Thank you Jackson, really appreciate you brother.“

You stopped the video, giggling at your petty boyfriend.

„Remind me to have a word with you once you’re back, yeah?“, you texted him.

It didn’t take him a second to instantly call you.

„Did you see it? Already? Damn babygirl, you’re quick“, he teased.

„You could have warned me, Wang!“

„I didn’t plan to say all that but I couldn’t help myself. It just.. it just came out of me. I really meant it though.“

„Everything?“

He knew exactly what you were implying.

„Oh, I’m gonna make you Miss Wang for sure. Rule my kingdom with me? Please?“

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star-suh · 11 months

Text

🎃 Trick or Treat, a short story 🎃

jackson wang x male reader

cw: top jackson, anonymous sex, unprotected sex, cruising, cum eating.

an: suddenly an scenario popped in my mind so here's this short story. i'm still taking some time to recover some braincells but if i can think of something i would write it right away and post it.

—

halloween it's y/n's favorite festivity because he can go looking for a trick or treat, the thing is he doesn't look for candies he looks for cocks. going to a halloween party in the forest near lord seonghwa's castle, he eyed a guy with a sexy costume of a clown. the clown notices that y/n is looking at him and grabs his bulge and silently walks towards the dark part of the forest with y/n following his steps. "this is a well known cruising spot you know" says the clown grabbing y/n's ass and they both started kissing. they were fucking rough like animals in heat, thankfully the squelching sounds and moaning were being camouflaged with the loud music "here, take this trick" said jackson jerking off and cumming on y/n's face "so fucking delicious" moaned y/n licking and sucking the remaining cum drops off of jackson's cock's tip.

another successful halloween for the slutty y/n in his search for cocks and cum.

#jacksong wang x male reader #wang jackson x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #male reader smut #smut #jacksong wang smut #got7 x male reader

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winter-dayz · 9 months

Text

Think of me?

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Brother's Best Friend Genre: Fluff; Smut (if you squint) Words: 1673 Warnings: strong language; sexual content (male masturbation)

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist: @soobin-chois

‘It’s gonna be fine. The worst that could happen is that he won’t notice me. Again. And I’ll just remain his best friend’s little sister forever.’

Totally fine.

You shook your head—putting any other self-deprecating thoughts away in a tiny, sealed box in your brain to be dealt with at your next therapy session—and entered.

Each year, your family hosted a Christmas party. It used to be small, contained to the immediate family. But then your brother and you got a little older, begged your parents to let you invite your friends. They allowed it, and invited some of their own friends too. Then other guests wanted to bring their families—parents of your friends and children of your parents’ friends started showing. Soon enough, it became a proper holiday celebration and couldn’t be held at your family home anymore. All of the adults started chipping in to rent space and have it catered. It became a celebration and reunion of sorts from then on.

You made your way through the decent-sized crowd, greeting friends and family as you went, until you found your own parents and brother standing around chatting.

“Hi honey!” Your mom cheered, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.

“Hi mom,” you smiled and glanced around, “The decorations look really nice this year. I like the red and gold theme.”

She beamed at the praise, motioning to your father, “Your dad picked out the main tree, and some of the others donated the smaller ones. We were going for something homier and warmer this year. People felt that the ‘White Christmas’ last year with all the white and silver was a little too sterile.”

You hummed, “Maybe if you do that theme again throw in gold? Like the song Silver and Gold… Or a nice royal blue if you want it to lean more–”

“Jackson!” Your brother shouted, interrupting your train of thought. Your head whipped around, following his line of sight.

Jackson, your brother’s lifelong best friend, was strolling over to your group. Soft, close-lipped smile on, eyes shining with happiness. He was dressed well, as usual, and had a Santa hat perched on bleach-blonde hair.

It was a different look than you had seen on him last, but you couldn’t deny you were really enjoying it.

‘You’ve got to get yourself together.’ You admonished yourself, tearing your eyes away and trying not to drool over your childhood crush.

Just the thought of him so close once again, though, had your eyes being pulled to him. As you caught another glance of him, you managed to catch his own eyes traveling the length of you.

‘I’m imagining things, right? Surely he didn’t just check me out? Right!?’

“Honey,” Your mom pulled you out of your thoughts, “can you bring yours?”

You hummed, wide-eyed as you refocused on the conversation around you. “What was that?”

“Your air mattress. Can you bring it for Jackson?”

“Why would I do that?”

Your brother looked at you with furrowed brows and said like it was obvious, “So he doesn’t have to sleep on the couch in the basement.”

“I didn’t realize you were coming to the cabin with us for Christmas?” You finally let your eyes flit back to Jackson. He was holding back a smirk in your direction already.

“Yeah, my parents are spending the holidays on a cruise. Didn’t really want to spend Christmas alone so your family is letting me stay with you.”

You felt your entire being tense. You weren’t trying to be defensive, even though you’re sure that’s how it comes off, but all that was running through your brain was getting through the holiday with the big fat crush you still had on your brother’s best friend.

“If you don’t want me to borrow your air mattress, it’s fine. The couch in the basement isn’t that bad.”

“No, no… It’s fine. I have to go back to my apartment and grab my bags after this anyway. I can bring it.”

Jackson’s subtle smirk split into a gentle smile, “I appreciate it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned a bit closer to you, “Between us, that couch is actually really awful. We should use it as kindling.” A bubble burst out of you, and Jackson’s small grin grew, brightening his face and causing his eyes to squint. “There’s that gorgeous smile.” You swore you heard him add on under his breath while you laughed.

🎄

“Hey loser,” your brother tossed a set of sheets onto you as you lounged on the sofa, watching a Christmas movie in the den. “Mom said to take those to Jackson downstairs.”

“And why can’t you do it?”

“I’m going to bed. You’re still up.”

You rolled your eyes as your brother headed towards where the upstairs loft was. You gathered up the sheets and made sure to grab an extra fleece throw, knowing how chilly the cabin basement could get in winter—regardless of how much work your dad put in to finish it and make it a nice guest suite.

Before you bounded down the creaky, wooden stairs, you called down softly, “Jacks?” You waited a moment, cold seeping in through your fuzzy socks, before heading down when you thought you heard him call your name back. “Hey, I brought you some sheets and a blanket since it can get… cold down… here…” You trailed off at the sight before you.

Jackson hadn’t been calling your name as an okay to come downstairs. No, instead, he was too busy moaning your name. His hand was wrapped around his cock, angry red and desperately weeping. Head thrown against the back of the couch, back arched as he bucked into his hand, and legs spread wide with his jeans unbuttoned and just barely pulled down to free himself.

‘He’s jerking himself off. To me? To me!? I shouldn’t be watching this. I shouldn’t be here.’ Your brain was malfunctioning. You knew you should just turn around, march back up those stairs, and come back down in a while with the blankets and sheets. But instead, your gaze darkened on the way he bit his lip to try to smother the louder groans, yet your name and swears still slipped through. Your eyes fluttered as you tracked a bead of sweat streak down his face. Your own mouth fell open, and you groaned at the way his hand flexed and gripped the couch, as if he could barely hold himself back.

Jackson froze, whipping around to find you standing there watching. He let out a sound, somewhere between a yelp and a whine. Embarrassment at having been caught colored his cheeks, neck, and ears.

You could feel that your grip on the sheets was white-knuckled and knew that your thighs were pressed together to release some of the pressure, but you simply cleared your throat and finally averted your eyes.

“I… Um, I br– brought the sheets for the air mattress.” You managed.

Jackson stared wide-eyed and panicked. He rushed to tuck himself away, fixing his hair and standing to take the sheets from you.

As he turned away to toss them onto the couch, he whispered into the awkward air, “I’m so sorry… You weren’t supposed to know… I’m just really sorry.”

“Know?” You flinched in confusion. ‘I’m not supposed to know what? That you masturbate to the thought of me?’ For once, you voiced your thoughts smoothly.

“Um, yeah…” Jackson looked ashamed.

“How… How long?”

His eyes darted to yours and quickly looked away, “Remember the Christmas party after you turned twenty-one?”

It was your turn to feel embarrassment wash over you. Of course you remembered that party. You had enjoyed one too many of your aunt’s famous Ho Ho Hot Cocoa… It was hot chocolate with more chocolate liqueur and peppermint schnapps than actual chocolate and milk.

You ended up nearly black out drunk, with only fuzzy memories of dancing with cousins and flirting with some friends of friends of friends. In fact, you were pretty sure you kissed someone…

“Oh my god!” Jackson rubbed a hand over his face, as you came to the same conclusion. “I kissed you!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry…”

That felt like a slap in the face. “What why? I’m the one who kissed you and then watched you… you know… without your permission. If anything, I’m sorry.”

“Because I enjoyed it…” Jackson hesitated, “I enjoyed both things if I’m honest.”

“Oh…” You breathed, mind blanking. “If… you liked me, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Your brother told me you’d never like me like that. ‘I’m like a big brother to you,’ were his exact words I think.”

“That fucking idiot!” You screeched, “I’m gonna kill him! I’ve had a crush on you since we were fucking kids, Jacks!”

“You– You… Really?”

“Yeah!”

Jackson burst into laughter, pulling you into his arms. He was a bit clammy, his cologne a bit tainted with the smell of his sweat, and yet, you really didn’t mind.

“Y/N…” He eventually whispered into the crown of your head, “I want you.”

“Oh?” You whispered back into his chest, desire coursing through you.

He pulled back quickly, “Not like that! I mean… Yes, like that too… But– Fuck, I’m fucking this up… I want to be with you. I want to take you on dates and kiss you and cuddle the shit out of you all the time. I want to show you off and come home to the same apartment—at least someday—and then pamper you and fall asleep in each other’s arms.”

You breathed out slowly, “I didn’t know you thought about stuff like that.”

“I never did before you.”

“Well damn, Jackson… What am I supposed to say to all that?” you giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around his waist.

“Say you’ll go out with me.”

“Okay,” you smiled, “on one little condition…” He hummed, and you pressed a kiss to his jawline. “Keep thinking of me like that.”

“I can do that forever, baby.”

#got7 #jackson wang #reader #jackson wang x reader #got7 x reader #fluff #smut #oneshot #ficmas

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jinxhallows · 1 year

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ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ | ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾ -- ɪᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ

ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ, 𝟷𝟾+, ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ ᴜsᴇ, ғᴏᴏᴅᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ

ᴡᴄ: 𝟸.𝟹ᴋ

So I wrote this originally in a discord brainrot with @gdragonsideburns (who ALSO WRITES INCREDIBLE SHIT) because although I am a smooth 30, I'm currently driving this song into an early grave and it made me think of Jackson Wang in the jungle? Do Jackson Wang fics even exist on here? Well, here's one.

"Dearest old man, on this most joyous occasion of your birthday, I bring forth a small token of my affection."

You call out teasingly in an over the top accent, and carefully place the delicate porcelain plate onto the table, adorned with a magnificent gourmet cupcake, a tropical wonder, complete with a sparkler glowing brightly at its center. The chocolate syrup on top of the plate spells out a heartfelt message from the resort staff,

"Happy 29th Birthday, Jackson Wang from China."

His face lights up with an infectious grin as he reads the message out loud.

"Ah, that's definitely me," he exclaims, reaching out to blow the sparkler out like a candle. But to his surprise, it doesn't extinguish. He shakes it slightly and turns to you.

"It burns for twenty-nine seconds, because that's how old you are," you quip with a mischievous glint in your eye.

He looks at you in wonderment, his brows furrowing in confusion. "How do they get it to last exactly twenty-nine seconds?" he asks, genuinely curious.

You chuckle, knowing he's fallen for your playful trick. "They don't," you say, picking up the remaining sparkler and pushing the plate towards him. "You just believe anything I tell you."

He rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now that's a lie. I don't believe 99.9% of what comes out of that pretty mouth of yours." With a cheeky grin, he dips his finger into the icing and taps your nose, before bringing it to his lips to savor the delicious taste.

“Thanks for thinking of me, baby.” he murmurs in a gentle tone, his eyes fixated on the delectable dessert before him.

The soothing sound of the rain pouring down through the dense Amazonian trees provides a tranquil ambiance. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the lush rainforest, with mist creeping up from the warm forest floor. You observe him as he peels off the cupcake paper, sinking his teeth into its side. The coconut shavings crumble onto his exposed tattooed torso. He brushes the crumbs off his skin, just below his navel, where his gray sweatpants meet his briefs, emitting a soft rustling sound. Tilting his head to the side, he takes another bite, letting out a satisfied "mm" at the delectable taste.

He glances over at you, oblivious to how enraptured you had become with his reaction. "Wanna try?" he offers, extending the cupcake towards you. However, you wave your hand, declining the tropical delight.

"I hate coconut flavored stuff," you make a face in distaste.

"Really? Since when? Why didn't I know that?" he queries, taking another bite and shaking his head to brush away the strands of chestnut brown hair from his face.

“Because thankfully, you’ve never fucked up royally enough to get me coconut flavored anything; and I love you all the more for it.” As you rise from your seat, you feel the cool, marble floor beneath the balls of your feet, and make your way over to the Bluetooth speaker. The room is sparsely furnished, and the sound of mellow Afrobeat mixed with R&B piano and the soothing notes of steel pans fills the air.

Suddenly, you feel something cold and flat pressed against your lower back, just above the curve of your hips. You look up at his reflection in the mirror, both of your gazes locking before your eyes fall to the bottle of patron silver he was conveniently using you as a table for; oh but Jackson’s a gentleman, he’s got himself pressed up against your ass, and your ample thighs; he’s keeping you nice and steady while he expertly pours a shot, which he sets down with a satisfying "clink" on the nearby table.

Jackson's second attempt at pouring is a bit messier, causing droplets of the cool liquid to splash against your warm skin, and you slightly jump at the feeling. It was the way the bottom half of your cheeks jiggled from underneath your shorts, however, that earned you a firm grasp and smack as he throws his shot back, relishing in the sight of your body responding to his touch. With a mischievous grin, he leans down to lap up the stray droplets from your lower back as you blissfully sigh from how good he was pressing all your buttons.

“Take your shot, I wanna test somethin’.”

He takes a step back, and you slowly stand up, tossing back the tequila before turning around to face him.

“Hear me out, try chasing with it.” He walks over to the table, and you admire the flexion in his back muscles as he moves. He picks up the cupcake, undeniably sexy as he licks it off his finger. He can tell he’s got you right where he wants you, your eyes never leave him.

“Chasing tequila, with a coconut cupcake? You’re gonna have to show me, ‘cause it’s not sounding too appealing yet.”

“I’m glad you asked, lie down for me sweetheart, let me show you exactly what I mean.”

As you crawl onto the plush mattress, Jackson follows suit, climbing on top of you. The sight of him, flushed from the drinks he had earlier, is enough to make your heart skip a beat. He chuckles at your confusion, but how could you not be confused? He's holding a half-eaten cupcake in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other, straddling your body. But despite the mischievous glint in his eye, you can't help but find him utterly irresistible. In this remote, remarkable place, far away from the rest of the world, he has you all to himself, and he's clearly up to no good.

"Hold this for me," he says, handing over the cupcake. As you take it, he takes a thick swipe of icing from the dessert. He pushes the bottom of your tank top up just enough for the bottom of your breasts to peek out from under the black, scrunched fabric.

"Jackson, what are you--" you start to ask, but he interrupts you as he paints a straight line of icing down the midline of your stomach, stopping right at your navel. His eyes hold your gaze captive as he slips his finger with the remaining icing between your lips.

As you obediently suck on his finger, feeling the curve of his knuckle and the lines dividing his long digit into printed pads, he lets out a satisfied laugh and proudly declares,

"I thought you hated coconut flavored shit?"

You take his finger further into your mouth, coaxing it in with your tongue. Despite your initial reservations, you can't deny the pleasure you feel from this. He pulls his hand away from your oral fixation with a scoff and a smirk. Taking a swig of tequila, he looks down at you like you're his next biggest conquest.

Aries men have a thing for that – a conquest.

He dips his tongue into your navel, licking the sweet trail all the way up to where your shirt is bunched up. You gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking down at him knowingly. "You know exactly what you're doing," you say.

"I'm teaching you how to broaden your palate," he responds smoothly, wasting no time in taking the cupcake back from you and exchanging it with the bottle of tequila instead.

The cool air circling in the room feels extra sensitive on the wet skin of your stomach, and it turns your nipples into erect, sensitive nubs, poking proudly through the thin fabric of your tank. You push yourself up a little more, so you can sit up straight.

You look up at him as he holds the cupcake out for you to take a sample from. You swipe your finger in the thick, buttercream icing, and your eyes dance down his chiseled torso, deciding where you were going to take this experiment.

Your body is trembling with anticipation as you slide your fingers over the waistband of his briefs, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You lean in closer, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of tequila and cupcakes filling your senses. Your tongue traces the trail of soft, delicate hairs leading down from his belly button, savoring the sweet taste of his skin.

You slowly trace a thick line just above his navel, reveling in the way his muscles twitch under your touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin flushed and warm from the tequila. You trail the icing down his smooth, taut stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his briefs.

You can't resist the urge to pull them down just a little, just enough to expose the tempting V-line leading down from his abs. With a steady hand, you spread the remaining icing right where you want it. Jackson watches you with dark, intense eyes, his breaths coming in ragged.

Jackson’s eyes flicker with surprise and desire as he helps you by tugging at the sides of his pants, pulling them down even further. The sight of his hardness tenting the front of his sweatpants, the print pushing through the slate grey of his briefs, is almost too much for you to handle. He's always had an aura of mystery and excitement about him, and the way he's looking at you now only adds to his allure.

He sets the cupcake aside and lifts your face up to meet his gaze, you can feel your cheeks heat up under his intense stare. His hand under your chin is firm, holding you steady, but his touch is gentle. You can see the lust in his eyes, but there's also a hint of tenderness there.

"Give me the tequila, baby," he says, his voice low and husky. You hand him the bottle, your fingers brushing against his as you do. His tongue darts out to swipe over his lower lip, and you feel weak in the knees.

With a little squeeze of your chin, he prompts you to open your mouth, and you do so eagerly. You can feel the warmth of his body as he moves in closer, his hips tilted towards you. He's always found you uniquely stunning, in a way that appealed to him on a primal level, and right now, it's as though he can't resist the urge to explore every inch of you.

As you wait, your breath catching in your throat, Jackson's gaze flickers over your face and down to your lips, before he takes a long swig of the tequila first. He swishes it around in his mouth before swallowing, and he pours a stream of it into your open mouth, letting go and allowing you to cringe as you push it down your throat. You quickly stick your tongue out, desperate to get rid of the alcohol taste. You grab his pants, pulling him closer and licking the buttercream trail from his skin. You pull his briefs down, maybe a little too enthusiastically, to get to the rest, and his stiff cock springs out. The head is red, smeared with clear pre-cum that had oozed out while he was toying with you earlier.

As soon as you felt the cool liquor pass your lips, your mouth began to water. You take him in, savoring the feel of him filling your mouth. His substantial length stretches you, and you wrap your lips around him tightly, feeling every ridge and vein as you slide him deeper into your mouth. As your tongue flattens against the bottom of his cock, he hisses at the sensation, his brows knit together in pleasure. His eyes close, and he accidentally holds his breath, lost in the feeling of your mouth on him.

"Damn, babe," he groans, his voice thick with desire. You can feel him growing harder inside your mouth, and you can't resist sliding your hand down to his base, following the thick curve of your lips with every suck. "Keep doing that, God, it feels so good," he pleads, his hips thrusting gently towards your mouth.

He probably shouldn’t, but he takes another shot anyway. He really does want to set the bottle down, but he can’t peel himself from between your pretty lips just yet. The way your intensity climbs as the liquor kicks in, you take his balls gently in your hand, using all the saliva that had pooled as lubrication to massage them.

His moans of pleasure fill the room, each one more intense than the last. With his hand covering his face and his other tightly gripping the tequila bottle, it was clear that he was completely lost in the moment. The air was thick with a heady mix of profanity, grunts, and gasps, all signaling his overwhelming pleasure.

“H-Hold on, hold on—” Jackson somehow finds the inner strength to breathe, to stop you from taking him directly off the edge a lot sooner than he had originally planned. He drops his hand, revealing his handsome face again. He stares at you with a look of utter desire and adoration, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead, his hair mussed and sticking to his skin in all the right places. His lips are parted, panting softly as he struggles to regain control of his senses.

His body is a work of art, every muscle defined and chiseled to perfection. The veins in his arms and neck pulse with intensity, a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. He looks like a god, a vision of pure masculinity and strength.

You can see the raw passion in his eyes, the way they fixate on you with such intensity that it makes your heart skip a beat. It's a look that says he wants you more than anything in the world, and nothing else matters in this moment.

“I wanna fuck you,”

He breathes out, pointing to the oversized window across from the bed.

“In the rainforest.”

☾ -- fin

#jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fic #jackson wang smut #got7 smut #got7 fic #jackson wang fanfic #jackson wang from CHINA #WHY DID I GO FERAL AND WRITE THIS OUT OF NOWHERE #i blame gdragonsideburns

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elphiej · 6 months

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Be My Light - Chapter 10: An Act of Trust

*Genre: Mafia, Angst, Slow burn, eventual smut

*Warnings: Mentions of drugs, language, anxiety

Authors Note: How has it been so long? It's been a bit of a tough time but I have returned to my happy place. I hope you enjoy this look into the Magic Shop. I copy and paste the Tag List, so for those who no longer wish to be in it, I completely understand. Please just message me and I'll remove you. For any new interested readers who would like to be apart of the Tag List, same thing. Please just be patient with me. I'm on new any depressants and will be trying my very best to keep up with this. No matter what, I will never stop this fic and I will try my best to make any wait worth it. Feel free to drop a like, comment, or anything. Also posted on AO3 under the same name, Enjoy!

Tag list: Tag list: @lolalalooo, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine, @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22, @weiinihao, @hemmofluke, @rainbow-zebra-unicorns, @joyfullyobsessed-blog, @elvencantation, @thefreddieman, @whateveritis616, @crewzie-chan, @wyomingphantom, @killbillv1, @kyrah-williams, @utterlynutters, @ot7jellostan, @zahraaelamira, @shesaysweirdthings, @toriluvsfics, @emu007, @zae007live

Chapter 10: An Act of Trust.

This is incredible, you found yourself repeating as you followed Taehyung through the Magic Shop.

The mansion was the prime example of the phrase ‘never judge a book by its cover’. Though, if you were being completely honest, Bangtan had shown many examples of that phrase the more you were around them. Where the outside of the Magic Shop was foreboding, broken, and cold, the inside was warm, modern, and inviting. And so well maintained. For a group of young men, the place was immaculate. You thought back to when Jin and Jungkook had cleaned your apartment on the first night and decided that you really shouldn’t be surprised. As you looked about the passing rooms, they were beautifully decorated in a modern style that really complimented everyone and the structure.

Taehyung had, first, led you down the spiral staircase under the front foyer into what you assumed were the old service areas. Now, it was an expansive garage lined with a vast variety of vehicles. You recognized the truck that Jin had driven you home in, the silver sports car that Taehyung had picked you up in that first day, and the town car that you had just been in. Heuning Kai waved at the two of you from his place by the town car, polishing it to look as new. You looked down the rows in awe. As you took in the fleet of cars, you started to understand that you had vastly underestimated how much money Bangtan must have had. But were all of these bought or were they spoils of the job? Or were some of them stolen? You were really trying not to think so poorly of your hosts, but could it really be helped?

“Nice, huh?” Taehyung crossed his arms with pride as he leaned against a very nice looking black two-door car. He nodded over towards the familiar pickup truck. “That was the first truck we bought back in the early days. We lived off of cheap ramen and stolen veggies, but it was worth it. Jin put a lot of hardware into it over the years. He stayed up a lot of nights reading mechanic books to make it work for us. Now we’re able to hire mechanics who will follow whatever design and dream he can think up to help us. Like bulletproof glass and exteriors, homing beacons, storage and seats that fold down so we can use the space for anything. They, even, have this feature that sends an alert to all of our phones if the vehicle’s ever in an accident so we can get to each other.”

“I suppose Jin thought of everything, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung smiled a huge boxy grin. “Jin-hyung is all about keeping us safe. He’s like the mom of our family. He’s always taken such good care of us.”

As your eyes roamed across the row of vehicles, your eyes caught sight of a sleek, black motorcycle in the farthest corner of the garage. You had always wanted to ride on one ever since one of Amber’s friends came by the hospital to show his new one off. But you had always been too scared to ask to ride along; working in the ER would do that to a person.

“Like that? That’s Jungkookie’s, He always wanted one. And Yoongi-hyung and Jiminie bought it for him as a graduation present to encourage him to finish school. He was so excited when he went to go pick it out. It’s his favorite thing. Seems like you like it too. I’m sure if you ask him, he’d take you on a ride. As long as he doesn’t combust from shyness. I’d suggest you wait until you’ve been around him more before you ask him.”

“Oh no,” you said, turning back towards Tae. “I don’t think that would be very smart. Do you know how many cases in my ER are from motorcycle accidents? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You were sure by the look on Taehyung’s face that he could hear the disappointment in your tone as you tried to fool yourself.

He smiled. “You know that is the same argument that Jin-hyung said when it was brought home. But I know I have a picture of them riding on it together.”

Taehyung, then, led you out of the garage. As you ascended the spiral stairs back into the front foyer, you were taken down the hallway where Namjoon had appeared towards the kitchen. The hallway was lined with what looked like framed family portraits of Bangtan throughout the years. There were some of them all together dressed all nice, and a few of them in random units posed in fun ways. It was interesting to see how they grew and changed over the years. But it was, also, sad to see how young they were. You paused in front of what appeared to be their first family photo. Where the other photos were in suits or business casual attire, their first picture looked as if they had watched too many hip-hop music videos. Dressed in fake basketball jerseys and hats, or in layered phony designer shirts and too much eyeliner, they looks so young and inexperienced. You almost didn’t recognize Namjoon with his crazy hair and dark glasses, or Jimin with his very tanned skin and shaggy black hair. And Jungkook looked like he had barely started puberty with his round doe-eyes. It really made you wonder what could cause such young kids to turn to gang life. Yoongi and Namjoon you understood since Yoongi had explained his side to you. But were all their stories the same? You had to figure out how to ask them.

The kitchen looked like it belonged to a showroom with top-of-the-line appliances set against stunning marble counter tops. You imagined this is what a world class chef would want. It was beyond clean and spacious with a large capacity refrigerator and freezer, a fully stocked wine cabinet that almost reached the ceiling, a huge stove and dual ovens, and a large island that could be used for anything. Off the main part, set against a large set of windows that overlooked a courtyard in the middle of the Magic Shop, was a cozy breakfast nook and a fully stocked coffee bar that could meet the needs of the pickiest of coffee drinkers. There were a few different machines for different types of coffee, syrups, stirrers, and different sugars. The enticing smell of whatever Namjoon had made still permeated the room.

The only thing that was missing was the staff to man such a space. Perhaps they had the morning off?

Taehyung opened up the fully stocked cabinets, pantry, and fridge to show off their contents and told you to that you would help yourself to anything whenever you wanted.

“We always make extra so you can have whatever. Or, if you would rather cook something for yourself, by all means. But since one of us will be with you, we may offer to do it.”

“You all cook?” You remembered the amount of food Jin had ordered the first night for you and figured that’s what they did regularly.

“Some of us do,” he remarked with a shrug. “Namjoon-hyung can only really make coffee. And my skills are a bit limited. But the others are really good at it. We always leave leftovers if we are out late on missions for the other. We try to have family dinner when we are all together. And we talked about letting you come too, since you’ll be here for a while. If you want, that is. But trust me, you’re gonna want to.”

“So, you make your own food? I would expect a place like this would come with a fleet of cooks since you all would be…busy.”

Taehyung laughed. “You would think so. But we are pretty self-sufficient. Other than our hired Army, we don’t really have a staff full time. I mean, there are two mechanics that come to tune up the cars every month, a couple ladies who come in to do a deep clean every three months or so, and Jin brings in a couple helpers once in a while when he’s stuck in whatever he’s working on. But that’s only a very few very trusted people. They’re all older locals though who we’ve helped over the years, so we know they won’t betray us. It’s just safer if we keep it low. When we bring in new people, it’s blind like how we did with you. Not that we don’t trust you. I mean…” Taehyung started trying to figure out how to better explain it.

“It’s alright. I understand. I am a stranger to you guys. Despite how many card games I’ve beat you at or coffee dates you take me on.” You smiled as your little joke seemed to ease the tension. “It makes sense really. It’s better to be cautious. If anything happens to me, I wouldn’t be able to say anything even if I could.”

“Hey,” Tae brought his hand to your shoulder, face very serious, “nothing is going to hurt you here. I trust you. Call it my superpower, but I can read people really well. All the years on the street do that to a person. You are a good person. Otherwise, we would have blindfolded you before you stepped out of the car. Everyone agreed to welcome you in our home not just because of all you’ve done for Hyung. We could have just set you up in a safe house if I thought you were up to something.”

You were sure he was being genuine with you. He did seem like he was going very beyond the bare minimum he needed to do had it been some other person. You knew he was trying to make you feel safe and comfortable in this whole situation. They were doing so much for you, you just needed to allow yourself to relax and not think about all the other things. You tried to ignore the dark cloud that kept coming up the second you started to forget their profession and focus on the person.

From the kitchen, you were lead to the outside courtyard. It must have been intended to be a beautiful event space in its conception. There were moss covered statues, an elegant fountain surrounded by ivy covered iron benches, and beautiful plants that brought so much color to the space. Above, there was a façade that looked like a tapered roof covered in ripped tarps that Tae explained let in a lot of light and rain but kept anyone or thing from seeing inside. Bangtan had really thought of everything to keep the Magic Shop secret. Across the courtyard and through another door, you were shown an impressive gym with an attached studio that Taehyung explained was used for combat training, dance practice, or anything they wanted. Next to that was a shower, steam room, and a large indoor swimming pool. All of which was fair game for you to use if you wanted to.

After that, the excited man showed you what he deemed ‘the living space’. Up the stairs to the second floor, there was a massive formal dining room, a small library that you really wanted to explore, a small infirmary, a game room, and some office used for whatever they wanted to work on privately. He pointed to another staircase and mentioned that some of their bedrooms were up on the third floor and so were Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s personal workspaces. Jin’s workspace was in the basement, while Jungkook’s room and personal gaming room was on the attic floor with Taehyung’s art studio. There was so much space in this house that you began to wonder if there was a map so you wouldn’t get lost. Before you could try to remember how to get back to the last room, you found yourself in an expansive living room. You figured this may be where you’d be spending a majority of your time. The room was open design with a massive L-shaped couch that seemed like it could fit more than seven, sleek coffee tables, two elegant armchairs with oversized ottomans, and a few beanbag chairs stacked in a corner. Mounted to the wall was a huge flat screen television and on either side of it where towering shelves full of movies, tv series, music, and video games to last a lifetime. There were multiple gaming consoles stacked neatly on top. And on the far wall, there was a small mini fridge, a cupboard with snacks, and a small bar. It was homely and comfortable.

“We spend a lot of our down time together in here,” Taehyung said, smiling at your awed expression. “It’s probably one of my favorite rooms, besides my bedroom.”

“I can see why. It has pretty much everything in here. It’s bigger than my apartment. Well, this house is so large it’s a wonder how you can find anyone in here. I still haven’t seen Jimin, Jungkook, or Jin. I feel like I could walk right past them in here and never know it.”

“Well, Jin is on the basement level working on something. We won’t need to go down there. There is nothing there that’d interest you. Honestly, it’s a bit more confusing to get down there anyway so just try to stay on the first two floors. But. he’ll come up for lunch in a while. Since I didn’t see Jungkook in here or the gym, my guess is that he is probably still in his room. He was up late last night playing video games and is most likely still sleeping. But if ever in doubt, always start looking for him in the gym or where his games are. As for Jimin, I’m not sure where he is. He was excited for you to come to the Magic Shop. I thought he would meet us in the front or outside. That was his plan anyway. Something might have come up. I’m sure we’ll see him at lunch. Oh yeah, there’s someone else I want you to meet. Now, where is he?”

Suddenly, while you were distracted by some of the framed, less staged photos on the wall, something small and fuzzy ran across your foot. You shrieked and it took everything in your body to keep from kicking at whatever it was as you fell back into one of the armchairs. Taehyung let out a loud laugh that filled the space and had him holding his sides.

“Tannie! There’s my baby boy.” You turned over the chair to watch him stoop over and pick up a small black and brown Pomeranian puppy. The puppy yipped happily and gave his owner sloppy kisses that Tae returned. “I was wondering where you had gotten off too. Such a silly boy. You shouldn’t scare our guest like that. She’s a nice girl, the one I told you about. Say you’re sorry.”

The puppy let out a big yawn. You weren’t sure if that was the apology Taehyung was expecting.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that. I’ve been a bit jumpier than usual. I wasn’t expecting such a tiny thing to come running at me. You guys never mentioned that you had a dog.”

“I didn’t? That doesn’t sound like me. I could have sworn I had talked about him a few times back in the hospital.” If you were honest, he might have. But there were plenty of times when you were fighting your many battles about trusting them that you tuned out most of the conversations. “This is Yeontan. He’s only eight months old. You don’t mind dogs, do you?”

“No, I like all animals. He’s very cute,” you pushed off from the chair and stepped a bit closer. When Taehyung held the small dog out to you, you reached over and lightly scratched him behind his fuzzy ear. Yeontan let out a happy noise and licked your hand. You laugh a bit. “He’s so sweet. But I’ll be honest. I would never have suspected someone like you to have such a tiny dog.”

“Oh, sure. I get that. Jungkookie keeps saying we should get a Doberman as a guard dog. That would definitely fit our image better. But I could never replace Tannie. He’s all mine.” Taehyung hugged the puppy close, and it warmed your heart. “I’ve always wanted a little dog ever since I was a kid. But a bad home life made it difficult. But all the guys pulled together and helped me get this little guy as a present. And I sold a few pieces in order to save up for classes so I could better take care of him. I wanted to be the best owner for him.”

The way that Taehyung spoke and interacted with the dog was such a juxtaposition to the wicked mafia persona you had figured hid beneath. It was so cute that you could only wonder if someone would ever treat you with the same amount of affection. Had you not known about that side of his life, you’d swear he was just this lovable guy with a large heart. Though, something he had said gave you pause.

“Save up? I feel like you all have more money than I can even imagine. I mean,” you made a grand gesture to the room, “why would you need to save up for anything?”

“I’m sure it seems that way. Sure, we’re pretty well off. But when we first started, we were so poor, we didn’t have enough money to eat. We stole from the gas station just to eat once a day. And when we started out, we were nobodies, so it wasn’t like we were making anything. Whatever we did earn from gang activities went to important things like medicine and renting a room for the night, so we didn’t have to sleep on the street. Then, it went towards necessities, like weapons for protection or clothes so we wouldn’t freeze in the winter. Or bail when we got caught by the police. So, to ensure we would be able to make it and not be picked off by the other gangs, we got day jobs. Namjoon worked the gas station we stole from to make it up to the old man who owned it, Yoongi-hyung was a delivery boy, and Hobi-hyung and Jimin worked at a dance studio. Kookie and I found ways to help. The only one who had any money was Jin-hyung. His family was loaded. When I first met Jin-hyung, before I met the others, he was a student, and I was a street kid just trying not to go home. I saw him at a bus stop I used to tag all the time. He said my work was cool and just like a puppy, I started hanging around him. He fed me and even tried to teach me what he was learning since I dropped out. Then we met the others and Jin-hyung was using his money to help us. But when his father learned who he was hanging around, he cut him off. Until he was able to black mail his father.”

“But,” Taehyung continued, seeing how off topic he was getting, “the point was, we always had other ways to get money that weren’t gang related. Even now, as big as we are, we still have little side jobs we do. It breaks up the monotony and gives us a little bit of an escape. What we earn from gang activities belongs to Bangtan; the upkeep of the house, paying Army, hospital bills, and our equipment. Anything we earn from our side hustle is ours for our own pleasure. That dance studio that Jimin and Hobi-hyung worked at, they now own. Jungkookie competes in videogame competitions and films himself playing games on the internet. Jin continues his family business, without his actual family. And Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung did music underground back in the day before all the gang stuff, and they still do. They write and produce demos and sell them. You’ve probably heard a few of their stuff. And we all help them sometimes. We joke that if we weren’t in this line of work, we’d probably be a world-renowned band. Funny huh?”

Wow, you thought as you tried to process what he had just told you. There is so much more to these guys than I thought. How can they be this down to earth?

“And what do you do?”

“I told you that I used to be a street artist, right? Nothing too special; just tagging and doing funny graffiti. But the others really inspired me to keep going. Hell, Namjoon got arrested with me when I was attempting to improve some offensive street art someone left outside one of our favorite places just because he wanted to see me improve myself. Now, I’ve moved to a bunch of different mediums; I’ve tried charcoal, photography, drawing, and painting. I took all of those pictures,” he said pointing to the walls. “It’s pretty easy to find a muse when you have a great support system. Here let me show you some of my pieces.” He took your hand and led you out of the living room with a bounce in his step.

He took you up the stairs and to his art room. You were fairly positive that this was not supposed to be part of the tour since this was where their more private spaces were. But the look on Tae’s face when he showed you his art room was enough to show you that he was very excited to show off his work to you. The room had hardwood floors and walls covered with different sizes of framed pictures of different famous artists that he admired. The room was loaded with supplies like stacks of canvases, drawing supplies and paints, different cameras, and drop clothes to protect the floor. There was a small couch and chairs that you recognized from some of the family portraits. He went over to a desk and grabbed a book. It was labeled Vante, which you remember used to be his street artist name before he shortened it to V for his gang related work. He flipped through the book and handed it to you when he found what he was looking for. There were pictures of different art pieces he had made. Each page had photos of the progression and the finished product with handwritten notes next to it as to when it was sold and for how much. The numbers made your eyes widen. There were things that you would expect to see in a museum. You were speech-less.

He grabbed your hand once again and led you out of the studio and into the hallway. There were some more pieces hanging throughout the hallways, those he wouldn’t part with. There was one that was so breathtaking; it was a black and gray background, with a single light source from up center. In the center of the spotlight was a dancer clad in white, whose body was carved through shadows and face shown pale in the light, eyes closed in a serene way as if he was lost in the music you couldn’t hear. His arm was extended up to the light like a ballet dancer, so graceful. His hair, a steely blue, and the gathering shadows accentuate his sharp yet delicate features. And the more you looked at it, the more you began to realize that you had seen this person before.

It was Jimin.

As you were led to more art pieces, you started to realize that Taehyung had used Bangtan in many of them. They were breath taking. Not only were they all so good-looking, but the way Taehyung painted or photographed them made them look otherworldly. Near the end of a staircase that would lead to the top floor back to the floor some of their bedrooms could be found on, you found yourself stopped in front of what you came to realize was your favorite. It was a black and white photo made to look like a painting. There were seven people in front of a white background that looked like hands reaching out for each other. Five of the seven were leaning on each other, hunched over in a dramatic way. In the center were the final two, both with their arm up, one reaching for the sky and the other grasping the first wrist afraid to slip and let go. It was so simple yet complex, so artistic. You weren’t sure how long you were staring at it until Taehyung’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“I was commissioned to make this for someone. But when it was done, I couldn’t part with it. The others loved it too. They hated that I was supposed to sell it to someone who wouldn’t understand it. So, Yoongi-hyung paid the commissioner for it, three times what he was going to pay me for it. Said he didn’t care how much the man wanted for it. It meant so much to us that it was priceless. Yoongi-hyung says it’s his favorite. I think it’s yours too.”

“It’s so beautiful. You are truly an amazing artist.”

“I have some great muses.”

Taehyung and you stood there in silence a bit more before the silence was broken by someone coming out of one of the rooms. It was Hoseok. He looked a bit disheveled and breathless as if he had just run a mile, hair no longer sleek and tidy. He closed the door softly and turned with a grin, licking his lips in some sort of victory. He clapped his hands together and started down the hall with a hop in his step.

He froze when he saw the two of you looking at him. “Umm...” he started nervously, “what are you two doing up here?”

Oh right, I’m probably not meant to be up here. That’s why he’s confused. You turned your eyes back to the floor and your shoulders started to hunch. You didn’t want to intrude on their space. You were just following Taehyung and thought it was okay. But it would seem like not everyone was alright with his idea.

Tae noticed the change in your posture and was having none of that, especially after he worked so hard to get you out of your shell to begin with. “I told you I was going to show her around the house. I was showing Y/N some of my artwork in my studio and figured I would show off the good ones. She really likes this one. I can’t say I blame her.”

Hobi looked over at the painting. “Oh yeah, it is pretty. But don’t you have a copy of it in your phone you could have shown her? I thought we were just gonna keep it to the ground floors until Namjoon-.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, arms wrapping around yourself in a nervous way. “I’m not trying to intrude. I wouldn’t have come up here unless Taehyung had brought me.”

Hoseok noticed the way your hand clenched at your clothes and how you didn’t look at him in the face. And suddenly, he felt bad. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised. We normally don’t have people up here. I wasn’t expecting you. I don’t care if you come up here. Just as long as you don’t go into any rooms without permission.”

“Well, of course she won’t, hyung. You see how nervous she is just at the thought of intruding. I just didn’t want her sitting in one room all day. Jeez, she’ll probably be hanging on the first two floors anyways. That’s where all the fun is.”

Hobi threw his hands up in defeat. “Alright, Taehyungie, I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Y/N, I’m sorry. I was just surprised. It’s been a long morning.” You nodded your head in confirmation.

“Now to a better point. What were you doing?” Taehyung fixed his hyung with an accusing look and a smirk from behind you. As if I can’t guess.

Hobi frowned back at Taehyung before pushing his hand through his hair to tidy himself back up. “I was making sure Hyung went to rest and not back to work. You know how Yoongi-hyung can be when he’s away from his screens. He took some convincing but he’s asleep now in his room. And I,” he fished a key from the pocket of his jeans, “stole the key to the Genius Lab so he won’t be tempted to sneak in and work. He should be out for a few hours. He may skip lunch for now, but I’ll make sure he eats before he needs to have his next dosage for you.” He smiled brightly at you. “So, what do you think of the Magic Shop?”

“It’s incredible. You guys must have really worked hard to make it so beautiful.”

“Yeah, it took a few years to get right. But it’s been such a great sanctuary for us. Tell you what, I need to go into town for a bit. I’m sure Taehyung has told you about the dance studio if he’s showing off all his side work. I need to pick up Jimin. He apparently was called in this morning to help with some minor things but he’s not feeling too well to drive back alone. But when I get home, I’ll show you something we’ve been working on with the kids in our class. It’s really fun. Then we can all have lunch.” Hobi moved past you two, making sure to greet Tannie with a series of silly voices and pets.

Taehyung gave his hyung a confused look. “Is Minnie okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. It’s just about the end of the month. I’m sure he’s gonna try to push it off again.” Realization dawned on Taehyung and he smacked his head for overlooking it with everything going on. You didn’t ask what they meant since it really wasn’t your business. Perhaps it was just some stress related thing that focused on his time of the month. You were sure with everything going on, Bangtan must push themselves too far and that leads to poor health. If Jimin was sick, you would be happy to check him out since you were there to be an in-home care. It would give you something else to focus on. The two said goodbye and Hobi dashed down the stairs.

“Come on, let’s take Tannie out in the courtyard and I’ll show you some more of pieces on the way.

You happily followed him, chasing after the positive feeling you had earlier. Your anxieties had been growing more difficult to contain. It must be because you weren’t taking your medicine. You were hoping Dr. Na would have been helpful in finding out what it was so you could get back on track. But with everything that happened back at the hospital, you hadn’t been so lucky. You didn’t even turn in the script he had given you for a mild antianxiety medication to take in its place because you were still so mad at him and hurt. And yet, here you were with the people who ruined him for you, acting like they were your friend. All these feelings and emotions were confusing.

As you arrived back on the second floor and at the landing of the familiar staircase, you both could hear someone walking around, pacing by the sounds of it. At first, you thought it was Hoseok again, but Namjoon’s voice could be heard just a harsh whisper. Whoever he was talking to, he was not happy about something.

“I can’t believe you are trying to blow me off right now. How is that fair? My family needs security. Didn’t you say it would only take you a few hours? I know I got the dates mixed up but that shouldn’t matter to you. If you haven’t noticed, my family’s been in a bit of chaos recently and you were supposed to help ease some of my tension with information. At least tell me what you do have. What do you mean you aren’t done with your initial check? Why isn’t it done? I’m sure you’re busy, but you owe me!” The closer the two of you got to the stairs, the more you could pick up the frustration in Namjoon’s voice. He walked from a hallway near the bottom of the stairs, phone raised to his ear. He had changed from his morning clothes into a pair of jeans and a blue sweater, something more presentable. He didn’t seem aware of the two of you, so engrossed with his conversation. His eyes were narrow behind his glasses. He was agitated in a way you hadn’t seen since he saved you from Choi the first time. And you were not a fan of seeing him angry. “You said you’d come today and now you’re flaking out on me when I need you? That’s really great, Jackson. No, I am not overreacting. I trusted my gut to a point, but I need hard facts here. I needed them yesterday. Just go with it? Jackson, they’re in my house now, and you’re telling me to go with it?! No, two days is not okay! Don’t make me chase you down, you son of a bitch.” He let out a growl that didn’t fit with his current image. Taehyung didn’t like how mad his leader was getting. The younger knew full well what Namjoon was so angry about and he wished he hadn’t used a flighty character like Jackson to do something Tae could have easily done. But he knew that Namjoon needed an outsider’s opinion. “Fucking fine, how long? You better be here in two days or so help me…,” he let the person on the other end of the phone fill in the blank before he ended the call with a huff.

Taehyung took the opportunity to clear his throat to announce your presence, which startled Joon more than he would have liked. It took him a second before he let his emotions slip back behind the mask of a calm leader you had come to expect. You were aware that Tae was standing closer to you than before, like he was securing your place next to him.

“Everything ok, hyung?”

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t see you there. How much did you hear?”

“Just you getting mad. But don’t worry, it’s all good.” You gather that Taehyung knew exactly what Namjoon was wanting from this Jackson person but didn’t want to explain it to you. He grabbed your hand with his free one and pulled you down the stairs. “Y/N got to meet Tannie. We know how much he doesn’t like new people and, guess what, he likes her. How great is that? He never likes people other than you guys so quickly. He must know she’s a good person.”

You weren’t sure what else that was supposed mean, but it made the wheels in Namjoon’s head start to turn. Was that conversation about you? Did he not trust you in his home? Then why had they discussed bringing you here? He had hesitated back when Taehyung had mentioned showing you around the house. You knew they wanted to be careful, but wasn’t it their idea to bring you in? Why would he be so concerned now? You remember that he was supposed to talk to you about it before bringing you here but had forgotten. Was it more than just easing you into this that he wanted to talk about? Maybe this was a mistake? Or were you just overthinking things again?

“Well, I’m taking Y/N to the courtyard. Don’t let Jackson mess you up. You’re smarter than him anyways. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

You started to follow Taehyung back down the hall. As you passed, you could tell that Namjoon was struggling with something. If it was about you, you wanted to tell him that you would do whatever made them more comfortable, even if that meant staying in one place like you wanted to with Hoseok. But Taehyung took your hand again and gave it a squeeze, like he knew you were overthinking things again. “Wait a second,” Namjoon said, voice sounding like he had come to a firm decision.

The two of you stopped and looked back at Bangtan’s leader. He took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. And I mean it when I say welcome to our home. This is a bit new for us but considering the circumstances, this is the best option. Jin and I had been talking before about what happens when you come here, and both agree that we want you to be comfortable and not worried about anything. So, that being said, we came to an agreement about something very important. And I’ll let you decide what happens here. I know you said you want us to keep the darker side of our work away from you, and we have tried to respect that as much as possible. Being in our home may make that a bit more challenging. But we are still willing to do that if you want us to. But if you want, this may make being here a whole lot easier and may clear up some of those hesitations about us you may have,”

You were willing to listen to what he had to say. “What is it?”

“Yeah, hyung,” Taehyung said, tentatively, unsure of where this was going. “What do you mean? I don’t think we’ve talked about whatever this is.”

“We haven’t Tae. But Jin-hyung and I talked about it before and based on some gut feelings, this may be for the best for everyone. But it ultimately falls on Y/N to decide. Jin would like to say ‘hello’ to you. He’s in his lab.”

“Lab?” You had heard them mention a lab many times but you didn’t think that’s what it was. But by the way that Taehyung reacted to and, and how he had mentioned how you wouldn’t want to go down there, made you realize this was more than that.

“Namjoon-hyung, are you sure about that?”

He waved Taehyung off. “Like I said, this may make things for you much easier to understand and take some fear of us away. But if you prefer, we can just ignore it fully. But if you are willing, Jin-hyung would like to show you something in his lab. Jin-hyung does a lot of research and is working on something very important that may change how you see us. But it’s important. But if you don’t want to, I’ll understand, and we’ll keep pretending like nothing has changed. I give you control.”

You hadn’t had much control over the life you could remember. Leaving your ex and choosing to help Bangtan was really the first taste of control you had, and it was still scary. Maybe being in the dark was a good option. But them allowing you to have a say really meant a lot to you. The fear of what you would find out started to be outweighed by the prospect of clarity. But what if they were wrong? Was it better to stay in the dark? You started to wring your hands together. You had already started to change your view of them since Yoongi had talked about his past and Taehyung had showed you things you would have never thought you’d come to see from them. Was that enough to trust that Namjoon was doing what he thought was best? Looking into his eyes, you saw only patience as he allowed you time to process all the thoughts and feelings.

You took a deep breath. “I hope this goes the way you planned.”

****************************

As you followed in step behind Namjoon and Taehyung, with Yeontan held comfortably in the younger’s hand, in a darkened tunnel, you were really hoping that this would go the way Namjoon had hoped. They had taken you from the front foyer where you had started and down the same hall that led to the kitchen. You had been so had been so distracted by the pictures on the wall that you hadn’t noticed that there was an arched door to the left just before you reached the end of the hall. Namjoon pressed his thumb against a scanner on the doorknob and the sound of multiple heavy locks snapped open echoed against the walls. The door swung open to a granite stairway that was dimly lit. Namjoon had explained that this used to take guests down to the old train platform before they renovated it. When they had first taken residence, it had been so ill-kempt and dilapidated that they worried the tunnels would collapse. Most of the platforms and tunnels had been sealed and closed off. And a few that were in good condition were converted into something useful. But the biggest had been designated as Jin’s personal work area. At the bottom of the staircase, you could see the old remnants of the old train tunnels and platforms. The tunnel was dimly lit but you could still see the curve of the arched ceiling, the old support beams, the drop off from the platform to the old rail ways. Claustrophobia started to tighten its fingers around your throat, and your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag in some way to ground yourself. You were sure that anyone who had stumbled into here would have found it abandoned and unsafe. Which, in hindsight, was probably what Bangtan wanted. But you reminded yourself that they wouldn’t put you in danger. And this was supposed to help you.

Ahead of you, Taehyung and Namjoon were whispering to each other. You were trying not to eavesdrop, but you did catch that Tae seemed worried about this plan. At least he was trying to keep his promise to you and keep you away from things like this. You really did appreciate that and found yourself believing that he really was your friend here. This was a very big deviation from the plan that the two of you had agreed upon a few weeks ago. But something in the way that you caught Namjoon’s plea for the younger to trust him made you want to believe that this was to make everything better. You understood that this was a very big step for them and something that would probably never be taken into consideration. So, this had mean more than you anticipated. You didn’t want to try to imagine what you were being led to. Could it be a scare tactic to make sure you didn’t talk, or something to bribe you? Neither of those fit with the way that Namjoon had presented the option to come down here and you wanted to believe that Taehyung wouldn’t allow it. You took a deep breath to try to refocus your mind on anything else.

After a bit, as you started to wonder if there was ever an end to this dark tunnel, you could just make out the bricked-up wall that blocked the rest of the way. It was a dead-end, complete with road blockers covered in an inch of dust, caution tape that looked ancient, and crumbling stones. Another façade. Namjoon reached out to one of the broken bricks and pulled it down like it was a lever, which it was, as a door clicked. The door of bricks slid open like some secret passageway in a spy movie revealing a thick wall of steel and a flood of bright light illuminated your shocked face.

You felt like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole as you stepped from the dark granite onto sterile white tile. How could you still be in the same place? Taehyung had called it a basement workshop and Namjoon had called it a lab, but this was beyond what you could have imagined based on those descriptions. It was like you had stepped into some blockbuster superhero’s hideaway. The lab was large, larger than the pharmaceutical one at Mercy. There seemed to be sections where different projects were being handled. Stainless steel tables were covered with different lab equipment that looked familiar, vials filled with many different liquids and powders, microscopes of varying sizes and usages, chemical analyzers, and centrifuges of the highest quality. On a wall, there were many canisters of different drugs based on the labels you could make out, many of them you had used in the hospital. Two people in white lab coats were noting some results of something in a petri dish that you were sure you didn’t want to know what it was. Looking behind the amount of lab equipment, there was a small medical area that looked like a walk-in clinic you had visited once before coming to Central. There was an exam table, stretcher, enough emergency medical supplies that made you feel like you were back in the ER. If they had all of this at their disposal, they surely didn’t really need you around. You remembered Jin had once mentioned he had medical training and took care of the others, but you assumed it was first aid training and not actual medical training.

On the other side of the room, as clean and as well organized as the lab and medical area, was another workshop that was dedicated to all sorts of different tools and weapons of their trade. There were blueprints for a variety of items pinned to a board with notes and arrows all around them. There were multiple wide touch screens with information and numbers, molds and mockups, knives, guns, and other weapons in different ranges of finishes. You could see three or four dummies that looked as if they had been very well used. One had a vest on with bullet holes in it, another had slashes and stab marks that you dared not think about. Further back, there was what appeared to be a small shooting target lined with thick glass that you assumed was bulletproof to protect the workers. There was another person in a white lab coat and goggles who was working intently on piecing together a handgun. And in the very center of the room, sat a huge computer with four different large, active screens, was Jin. He was dressed sharply, as he always was, complete with a stark white lab coat. A pair of round silver glasses slid down his nose as he scribbled something on a notepad while looked at something dissolving in a yellow liquid. He looked like some handsome yet mad scientist at work. The glow of the screens cast a pale pallor on his skin and you could see a tiredness on his drawn features. Whatever he was working on, he must have been at it for a while, or was stressing him out a bit.

“Did I somehow stumble into the Batcave?”

“Feels like that sometimes. Jin-hyung’s like the Korean Bruce Wayne isn’t he,” Taehyung laughed.

“I think he’d prefer Tony Stark,” Namjoon remarked.

“Aren’t they the same thing,” you asked.

“I’ll ignore that since you’re cute, Darling,” Jin called out, never looking from the liquid in the beaker in his hand. “But there is a preferrable difference.”

Yeontan started squirming in Taehyung’s arms until he was placed on the tile and ran to Jin’s side. The tiny puppy jumped, trying to climb up into his lap, crying out for more attention.

“Aish,” Jin exclaimed, dropping the beaker on the table, thankfully not breaking. “Taehyung why is Yeontan in my lab?! We talked about this.”

“But he missed his Uncle Jin so much,” Taehyung smirked.

Jin rolled his eyes as he scooped up the puppy and made his way over to the three of you. He handed the puppy back to Taehyung after scratching the pup’s tiny head. “Just keep an eye on him. I don’t want to think of what he could get into.” He turned his attention to you, flashing you a warm smile. “Welcome to my lab, Y/N. I’m so glad you decided to join us down here. I promise that you won’t regret it. I was hoping to meet you when you first got here but I’ve been quite busy. I trust Taehyung has shown you the house. Though,” he fixed the younger with a sideways glance, “I see he didn’t show you where to put your stuff down and has made you carry it all this way. I know I have taught you better manners than that.”

“No, he’s been such a good host. I just never set it down. Actually, it’s been nice to hang onto,” you explained, saving Taehyung from whatever tongue lashing he was about to receive. “It gives my nervous hands something to do.”

“Ah, well, we do know a bit about anxiety and habits here. Do whatever you need to feel comfortable.” He dusted off his hands and slipped his glasses into the top pocket of his lab coat.

Up close, Jin looked just as amazing as always. Your hands tightened around the strap of your bag again, just to keep from getting overwhelmed. This was going to be a normal occurrence if they were all going to be here with you. His pink hair was combed back from his face as if he had ran his fingers through it many times while working. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a grey sweater vest, dark trousers, and polished shoes. Somehow, he always looked like he was modeling for something. Though, you did notice a bit of bruising peeking out on his collarbone.

“Are you okay? It looks like you had some issues with CrossFit too.”

Jin looked at you with a look of utter confusion. “CrossFit?”

You nodded. “Yes, Namjoon has one too. He said he got it from doing CrossFit with you. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”

Jin’s eye were drawn behind you to his members, who were silently trying to communicate without drawing your attention. Joon was pointing to the mark on his own neck before making a pleading motion with his hands. Taehyung was trying to communicate their intention with his eyes as much as possible.

“Oh yeah,” Jin said, slowly, realization striking him before he slid back into his trained persona so not to arise any suspicion from you. “CrossFit. Right. Well, you know how it goes. He crossed me so I did what I saw fit.” From behind you, Namjoon seemed to choke on air and Taehyung tried his best to stifle a laugh. You turned around to see what was going on, completely confused and clearly missing something. But Jin turned your attention back to him. “Don’t worry about me, Darling. My perfect skin may be marred for the moment but I will survive. But thank you for your concern.”

“Well, it is sort of my job. Though based on what I see, you really don’t need me.”

“Nonsense! You are a professional, and we could definitely use someone with your delicate touch. Whatever you may need, you can just ask. And if I don’t have it, I will get it for you faster than any hospital could. I know many higher ups in all the companies in the country and they would leap at the chance to get in my good graces.”

Suddenly, a loud bang ricocheted off the wall and made you scream and drop your bag, spilling its contents all over the floor. Bangtan only moved from your scream. Jin’s hands came up to grasp your shoulders, steadying you and trying to reassure you of your safety. He bend down so he was able to look into your eyes and whispered assurances that you were alright. From behind Jin, the young man who had been dealing with the handgun had finished piecing it together and fired a shot at the target. He looked over at you with a surprised look on his face, not realizing someone new was in the room. Taehyung had already crossed the room and snatched the gun from the younger’s hands and stowing it away. He gave Soobin a pointed look that spoke volumes. Namjoon had stoop down to start retrieving your bag.

“Soobin,” Jin yelled over his shoulder, “you didn’t think to look up before you shot that? Or at least put a silencer on it?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the youth replied. “I’m really sorry ma’am.” He scrambled away from the work bench and over to you all to assist Namjoon in locating all of your items.

“I’m sorry, Darling, I really didn’t want something to scare you. My intention was to make this less scary for you. Here, come sit over here. Take a deep breath for me. Taehyung, can you go get her some water? Take another deep breath, Darling. Yes, just like that.”

“This was a mistake,” you said between breaths, alternating between wringing and shaking your hands to try get the tremors to stop. Your voice was cracking as you tried to keep from crying out of sheer panic. “I shouldn’t have agreed to come in here. Why did you think this would be a good idea? What was the point? To scare me into keeping your secrets?

“Absolutely not. We would never want to put you through that. We trust that you won’t say anything. This was to shed some light on what we’re actually doing here.”

Taehyung appeared next to you with a bottle of water, which you graciously took and swallowed half the bottle.

“Hyungs,” he pleaded, “maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. We wanted her to be comfortable and she asked us to hide this part of us as much as possible.”

“And we did,” Jin agreed. “Y/N, we tried. And it was easier when it was just going from your place to the hospital and back. But with you being in our house, unless we lock you up in the living room, it’s going to be hard for you not to see some aspect of our work. That’s why Joon and I had this conversation. We thought that after all the time we spent making this relationship with you that you’d trust us enough. And we thought if you saw what we are working on down here, it might clear the air and ease some of these anxieties that still plague you. But we’ve taken an unexpected turn. Just try to relax. You’re still shaking.”

“I wish I had taken Doctor Na’s offer for some new anti-anxiety medication,” you muttered to yourself, remembering his suggestion in the stairwell. You had a feeling your anxieties were just going to get worse.

You looked over as Namjoon came to the desk with your bag, all its contents gathered back inside. All except a familiar clear bottle. Your old medication that you had forgotten was in there since the night Doctor Na had followed you into the stairwell after you saw the exchange of U4-1A. The familiar want you felt then of wanting to down that last pill in the bottle and escape world came back. But you didn’t take it then, you didn’t need it now. You wanted nothing to do with that past life anymore. Hell, you only wanted to know what it was so you could find an alternative that wouldn’t remind you of Daniel. But the temptation was strong as Namjoon held it out for you.

“This is yours, right,” he questioned. “I found it rolled under a table. And it doesn’t look like anything Jin-hyung’s been working on.”

“It’s mine,” you said as you took it from him. “It’s old medication from my ex-…um, I mean, from my accident. I ran out and Doctor Na was trying to figure out what it was since the label’s been lost. But our hospital pharmacy couldn’t identify it. I forgot to clean out my bag with…everything going on.”

“May I?” Jin held out his hand for the bottle. You shrugged, handing it to him. He dumped the pill into his palm and started to examine it with the same focused intensity as he had earlier. He made a face. “A generic white pill with no discernable characteristics. And you don’t remember its name?”

“I don’t remember ever hearing it. I started taking it after I woke up from my accident. The nurse or my ex would just bring it to me. And then, Daniel would get it refilled after that since I couldn’t drive. When I came to Central, I only had what was left in the bottle and had to space it out. I haven’t taken it for a couple weeks now. It’s probably why my anxiety is really bad.”

“I can find out what it is for you. I guarantee I’ll have more success than some basic pharmacist fresh out of school. I’ve some connections I can talk with to help me analyze it. And,” Jin held up a hand to silence the protest you were about to pose, “these connections are not gang related. Before I became estranged from my family, I was the second heir to the largest pharmaceutical company in all the country. Despite my father’s best efforts, I was very friendly and charming with our specialists and made plenty of valuable connections to help me in the future. So, if anyone can figure out what this is, it’s me.”

You were stunned into silence. You remember him mentioning medical training and about his father pushing for a different career, but you never imagined he was a part of the Kim Pharmaceutical dynasty. Of course, you had heard of them; all the hospitals pharmacies in the city were stocked with their products, and every doctor read their research reports and trail information. They beat out every other company when it came to advancements in health services. And they were close to celebrity status amongst the papers. You recalled overhearing some pharmacy interns at lunch talking about them. They mentioned that the company was ran by the Senior Mr. Kim, who had been married twice after his first wife passed, leaving him with two sons to take over the company in the next few decades. The oldest was always showing up in the papers. And the second son was said to be away at some foreign school. Which, now knowing that Jin was the second son, was much better for their publicity than saying ‘a part of the most notorious drug dealing, ruthless Mafia families’. You remembered that night in your apartment when Jin had mentioned blackmailing his father for access to his assets. And, looking around at the lab, it seemed to have paid off well.

As you let the information settle in your mind, you realized that your hands had stopped shaking and your breathing had evened back out. They had successfully distracted you from your panic so your mind could recenter. Well, you recalled, they did say that they had experience with anxiety.

“Come on, Y/N,” Taehyung said, gently, “let’s head back upstairs. We’ll find something normal to distract ourselves until the others are ready for lunch.”

“Alright,” you said with a deep sigh, “but, before I have another panic attack here, what was so important that I had to come down here? Just tell me. Please.”

“Ah, of course,” Jin said, reaching over to a drawer and pulling out a small clear container. Inside, you could see several small, heart -shaped, pink tablets, no bigger than a breath mint. You had seen the news, read the papers, heard the doctors talking about it. That was U4-1A, Euphoria. When the first few cases had started coming into your ER, you were told to check and see if they had those heart-shaped pills on them, though you had never seen them. The distinct pink color was, also, a dead giveaway; it was the same color the user’s irises turned when they were high on the addictively deadly substance. The few times you had been in the room with some of the addicts that Doctor Na was working with, you recalled a rose-colored ring on the edges of their eyes that seemed so unnatural. Your stomach twisted at the thought of Henry taking the drug from Namjoon when he was supposed to be helping people. He couldn’t even deny it. “You know what this is?”

“Why the hell would you show that to me?! I asked for one thing. I could look past some things, try to ignore things. Like I could ignore the amount of money coming and going. I could ignore the weapons, or any other reminders. But I asked specificity for this not be mentioned.”

“Darling,” Jin chided in an amused tone, “I just asked what this was.”

“Are you fucking for real? It’s Euphoria…”

“Wrong,” Jin interrupted as he reached out and tapped you on the nose, completely taking you off guard and disarming you. “This isn’t Euphoria, or U4-1A. This is Euphoric. U4-1C.”

Never heard of that. “Okay. So, what? It’s a knock off?”

Jin looked offended. “A knock off. My dear, like me, it’s an original that others fail to compare to. It is the only one of its kind and so important to the work we do here. And before you insinuate, no, it is not what started this addict epidemic. The ones who have that despicable honor are Ji and the Royals. This” he held it up to you again so you could see it was more closely shaped like a triangle, “is my solution to it. For the past five or six years now, I have been secretly working on a counter agent to make that horrid drug obsolete and save the people who either willing or unwilling were made to take it. This is going to be the antidote. It’s not finished fully. I haven’t been able to fully identify the exact formula the Royals use. And it’s not an instant cure. But introducing this to someone going through withdrawals, instead of to induce a sexual release, the addict would just need to exert themselves another way, like exercise or something else that released the pleasure signal in the brain. It takes a lot of time and constant dosing but I’ve gotten it to where after so long it can be tapered off from every day to once a month, and soon only once every other month. I am making a cure. And we pass it out to those in need. That’s what I wanted you to see. That we aren’t the bad guys. Well… at least not for this.”

You let his words absorb and you felt like you had been doused with cold water. So, when Hwasa cornered Namjoon in the hallway of the hospital and took something from his pocket and mentioned ‘someone will find your kindness absolutely… euphoric’, she was taking an antidote to someone addict to U4-1A? That means…what Namjoon had given Henry, what Henry had used for his patients, what he couldn’t talk about was that he was accepting a possible progressive treatment for the poor souls in the hospital. He was, indeed, a good person. And you had thought the worst of him. Any time he tried to talk to you, you’d run in the other direction. You blocked his number and deleted any trace in your phone. You had thrown away everything because you didn’t want to believe him when he had begged you to trust him.

“Oh my god,” was all you could say as your head fell into your hands. “I have made a total ass of myself.” Was there a chance Henry would listen to your apology after all of that?

“You see,” Taehyung said, “I told you we knew the damage Euphoria does to people. We’ve been trying to fight this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Like that night in the car?”

“It’s still a work in progress and a secret,” Namjoon said. “Only a few gangs that have proven trustworthy know we supply it. And they distribute it within their own territory. Or, in the case of your doctor friend, those who did us a great service. We did intimidate him into silence. Which was what you must have seen. Can’t say I blame you for what you thought based on what it looked like. He’d get more if he stayed silent. We don’t want our name attached to it just yet. The Royals already want us dead based on our past with them and our part in the Great War. If they knew what Jin-hyung was doing, it would a bigger target on our backs. But once it’s completely finished, then we’ll openly distribute it to the hospitals and clinics. But we hope that you understand the importance of this secret for us. It’s more than just our lives at risk if the wrong people get word of it. And if Choi already thinks that you’re with us, imagine how much worse it will be when he finds out that we are destroying yet another income for them. Do you understand, Y/N?”

“This whole time, you’ve been doing a great feat and I’ve been so focused on the rumors. You really are the good guys trying to help?”

“We’re really good at hiding ourselves. We’ve had years of practice showing the persona we want people to believe.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said with a cheeky grin, “I mean look at Namjoon-hyung. He puts on a persona that he’s smooth when, in reality, he’s a giant dork who breaks everything he touches.”

“I’ll break you, you fucking brat.”

Jin reached out and knocked both of them upside the head. “Language!”

And you laughed. You laughed without the weight of anxiety or fear weighing you down. For the first time, you felt like you were truly safe.

****************************

The next couple of days went by in a pleasant way, falling into a simple routine that you started to look forward to. One of them would pick you up in the morning, making sure to stop by Holli’s Café for a morning caffeine fix, before taking different ways to the Magic Shop that ensured you were still none-the-wiser as to how to get there. Once there, you would find Yoongi either waiting in the kitchen for you or in the expansive gym where you would start with his rehabilitation exercises after you checked and redressed his wounded shoulder. Now that Yoongi was home, there was a difference from the person at the hospital. He was still quiet but much more open to conversations and approachable. The conversations between the two of you were deep and easy like the ones you had with Amber. And you looked forward to them. There was one time you had made a stupid joke that had made him laugh freely. And that felt like a simple accomplishment that warmed you up. And you couldn’t help but find his laugh adorable. One morning, he brought you to his ‘Genius Lab’. According to the others, it was incredibly rare that he even mentioned his safe haven to outsiders, let alone let them see it. But he had made an exception for you.

The Genius Lab was more like an office where Yoongi spent a good deal of time juggling between work, reflection, and solitude when the world became too much. The space suited his style; grey walls with dark accents and floors, a sleek black desk with three large monitors and computer equipment. Opposite the desk was a long black leather couch that looked quite comfortable. And the room was completely soundproof. When he had brought you into the Genius Lab, he showed off some of his work. You watched as he pulled up different views of various streets all over Central, some storefronts where he pointed out Bangtan’s hired help stationed out front, and the exteriors of the hospital popped up on the screens. You were very thankful that they were still monitoring your workplace. Yoongi tapped on a few keys and different angles of your apartment appeared across the screens, both outside and inside. He played back your morning; Hobi pulling up in a nondescript black car, him swaying to the music in his earpiece as he rode the elevator up, to letting himself into your apartment and waiting for you with Holli’s coffee in his hand. You remembered Taehyung telling you about the cameras they put in your apartment that first morning. While you thought it would be more invasive, you found comfort in his watchfulness.

This morning had started as usual; Jin had come to pick you up this time to bring you to the Magic Shop. The only one you hadn’t seen since arriving at the Magic Shop was Jimin. He hadn’t appeared at lunch the first day as you expected. You shrugged it off, remembering that Hobi had mentioned he hadn’t been feeling well. But you still hadn’t seen or heard from him. The drive over to the Magic Shop was as winding and secretive as always. Though they had started going in a different way. From the street, it looked as if he had pulled up to an abandoned auto mechanic gas station in the lower section of town. At the touch of a button on the dashboard, a spray-painted door rolled open to a dark tunnel that ended at the parking level of the Magic Shop. You wanted to question how the construction worked or how it had remained secret but decided against it.

As you ascended the spiral staircase after Jin, that was where the morning took an unusual turn.

When you stepped into the large front foyer, you were greeted by the sounds of a struggle. Instinctually, you grabbed ahold of Jin’s arm and hid behind his broad shoulders, causing him to chuckle at the cute action. Coming through the front door was a blindfolded man being dragged in by both arms by Yeonjun and another hired staff member. He was yelling all sorts of vulgarities and kicking out in many directions, like he was throwing a tantrum and not trying to escape.

“Motherfucker! I told you to stop manhandling me like this! You know who I am? I will mess you up!”

“Such dramatics,” Jin bemused, “He acts like he hasn’t gone through this before. Yeonjun, did he cause you a lot of trouble?”

“Sir,” Yeonjun snapped to attention, still keeping his captive held tightly. “He tried to give us the slip. We met him at the appointed time but he tried to run. Even tried to jump out of the car.”

Jin tsked. “Jackson, so disappointing. I thought we had a better relationship than that.”

“Jin,” Jackson called out, head snapping in different directions to try and focus on him from behind the blindfold, “buddy, come on. I got the times mixed up and your boy jumped on me. Can we take this stupid blindfold off? I thought we’d be past this.”

“Jackson, you are like a rash; unwanted, hard to deal with, and annoying.”

“Damn, that hurt.” Yeonjun shoved Jackson forward, causing the man to stumble freely. He ripped the blindfold off his face and turned back to the younger, fist clenched. “Fucking punk, I’ll wipe that fucking smile off your prepubescent face!”

“Jackson,” Jin said in a commanding tone that in any other situation would be attractive. Stop it, you mentally screamed. “Refrain from threatening my employee in my home before I let him show you why he’s one of our best. Be a good boy and mind your manners. I’ll go get Namjoon to deal with you. Yeonjun, just make sure he stays here and doesn’t try to slip something into his pocket again. I’ll be right back.” Jackson snorted and rolled his eyes as he straightened himself out. Jin turned around to you, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be back in a moment, Darling. Don’t worry, Jackson is like a tiny dog; he’s all bark and nothing else, and easy to kick.” Jin’s eye flicked up towards the corner of the room with a sharp look before he turned back to you with a smile. That was weird. “Yoongi-ah should be here soon. Just hang tight and introduce yourself if you want to. And if Jackson does anything ungentlemanly, just tell Yeonjun and he’ll make him regret it.”

Before you could beg to just run upstairs, Jin patted you on the shoulder and disappeared. You had to remember that Bangtan would never leave you in any danger since they were bound to protect you. You remembered hearing Namjoon mention Jackson’s name before and figured they wouldn’t bring someone into their home that was a danger. You looked over to Jackson. The man’s dual toned hair was messy from his struggling. He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his baggy pants pocket and pushed them up onto his head, like a makeshift headband.

Then, he noticed you. And you felt like you were a mouse caught in a snake’s site. A cool smile smoothed across his lips as he made his way over to you.

“Well, look at you. I’ve never seen you around here before. What’s a cute, little thing like you doing here? I’m Jackson. You need anything, I’m the one who will know how and where to find it. Individual contractor. Know-it-all extraordinaire. Master of the Silver Tongues.” He offered his hand out for yours.

“Um, hi, I’m Y/N.” You hesitated to shake his hand.

“So, what are you? You’re too cute to be related to any of them. You look far too meek to be one of us. And I’d hope you have better taste than to be trying to date one of these losers when someone like me exists. I can tell you, you can do better. I’ve known these guys for a long time. Trust me, they’ve got odd taste that would disagree with such a cute mouse like you.”

You retracted your hand. Jackson started to circle you, eyeing you up and down. It wasn’t threatening but you kept your eyes on him. Yeonjun gave you a look but you waved him off for the moment. You could handle yourself.

“I’m a nurse. I’m assisting them after an incident.”

“Ooh a nurse? What luck, I’m in need of some attention after all that rough housing.” He winked. “Oh, shit, wait, you’re the one that ran into the gun fight? And took out one of the Royal’s guys? I heard he’s still recovering from severe concussion. Mad respect, sweetheart.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I make it my business to know things. That’s how I make a living. And why I’m in such demand. Word of what you did has made its rounds through many circuits. Though, I’ll be honest, I’d never be able to put your face to it. And that’s a good thing in this world. Though, if you want to be extra safe from the bad guys, you may want to reconsider who you’re staying with.”

“What do you mean by that?” You turned to follow his eyes as he kept circling you. “Bangtan seems to be taking good care of me. And I don’t mean anything by this, but I haven’t heard anything about you until now.”

“Isn’t that the point? I’m good at staying secret, keeping things secret. And they’re so high profile, it would be easy to find you if they slipped up. There are some things that can’t be bought from me. Like a cute, little mouse. And if I wanted to keep someone safe, I’d make sure no one ever found them. Especially, if they are as interesting as you.”

“I’m interesting?”

“How could you not be? You’re so innocent, so different from all the other people I’ve ever met. You just want to help, didn’t know what you were running into. And now you’re stuck, hiding from the mean world that is trying to punish your good deed. I mean, I’ve been their friend for years and I can’t say I’d run into a fight with Choi to save someone he’s trying to kill. So yeah, you’re the most interesting person in the world. And I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe you’ll let me take you out sometime to prove I’m a better waste of your time.”

“And what makes you think I’d be okay with that?”

“Well, I can give you a hundred reasons to leave these losers behind.” He stopped circling and leaned in so his nose was only a breath away from yours. “But I’m the only one that you need.”

Unbeknownst to Jackson, Yoongi had appeared at the top of the staircase as Jackson started circling you. He watched the interaction with a scowl on his face. He descended the stairs with a ghostly quiet until he was right behind the rogue. You noticed him as Jackson had stopped to lean towards you and your breath caught in your throat. He looked mad, a fierce protectiveness was present in his dark eyes. He appeared at the right moment. Then, you realized. Yoongi had cameras in the Magic shop, he had mentioned it. And the look Jin had given to the wall that you didn’t understand must have been to one of Yoongi’s cameras that he was watching for when you had arrived as he had done before. They were still watching out for you. He stood so close to Jackson that you wondered how the other hadn’t sensed him yet, his face right next to his shoulder and gaze boring a hole in Jackson’s head. Jackson noticed that you were no longer paying him the attention he wanted and turned his eyes towards the directions yours were on. And he jumped as if he had just been electrocuted, putting some distance between him and the death glare he was receiving.

“Fucking hell, you bastard! Put a bell on your fucking neck! Damn, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Good,” Yoongi said as he kept his eyes trained on Jackson. “Leave her alone, Jackson. She’s got enough problems without you trying to weasel your way into her bed.”

“You wound me, Suga. I was just introducing myself to the lucky lady who is now one of the most famous women in our field.”

“I said,” he took a step closer to him, and despite his arm still in a sling, he looked as if he was about to use it on Jackson, “leave her alone.”

“Wow, back down, tiger. Sheesh, didn’t think you’d be so concerned about someone like her. Don’t you have your hands full already? Or are you just greedy? Or are you guys taking turns?”

“Jackson!”

Namjoon’s voice echoed against the walls. You looked up to the second floor where RM was leaning on the banister overlooking the foyer with Jin by his side glaring down at Jackson. RM looked as annoyed as his voice let on. He was all business with no sign of the calm Namjoon you had been seeing around the Magic Shop. With a power that befitted the Leader of Bangtan, he signaled for Suga to stand down and motioned for Jackson to follow him. With a final look and wink from Jackson to you, he flipped Yoongi off and made for the stairs. Suga, silently, watched him go, making mental notes for the future before he reached back and took your hand in his. You jumped, slightly. He hadn’t been physical with you like the others had, holding your hands, giving you a hug or playful shove. There was always a bit of distance, aside from the medical side of things.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get out of here.”

He had led you upstairs, asking if you were alright. While Jackson was a lot, it wasn’t something you couldn’t have handled. But you thanked him anyways for stepping in. It felt nice to have someone be so protective of you, something you weren’t so used to. He started leading you up towards the direction of the Genius Lab, where he insisted you stay until Jackson was gone, since it was secure and private, instead of the normal spaces you tended to occupy. Thankfully, the physical therapy you needed to do with Yoongi didn’t require much space and you carried all the equipment you needed in your bag. You figured Yoongi was not a fan of Jackson normally, remembering the disdain in his voice when Joon had mentioned him back at the hospital before. You were sure that Jackson’s display back in the foyer only made that worse and he wanted to keep an eye on when he left.

As you made it to the floor, Yoongi stopped. “I almost forgot. I need to check on something real quick. Can you remember how to get to the Genius Lab?”

“I think so. Do you need help?”

“No. I just need to check on Jimin. I won’t be long.”

“Is he alright? Is he still not feeling well? I can take a look if you need me to. That’s kind of my whole thing.”

He gave your hand a squeeze as a little chuckle sat in his throat. “No, it’s nothing you need to worry about right now. He’s coming down with something but is putting off taking his medicine as long as he can. He’s being stubborn. Gets it from me, probably. I’m just making sure he’s still in his room resting. I’ll only be a moment. I promise. Here, this is my key to the Lab. Let yourself in and lock it. I use my code on the door. Not that I think Jackson will know where my office is but just to be safe.”

Some part of you hated when he let go of your hand to head down the other side of the hall. You had to take a few breaths to let your professional masks fall back into place. You wished your emotions would settle. But being around someone as cute and protective had you feeling a certain way. A way which, you reminded yourself, you shouldn’t be feeling. You were hired to help him heal, not to let a crush develop. You really needed to get a grip. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you made your way down the hall.

However, after a few steps and turns, you had lied when you thought you could find the Genius Lab on your own. The only places you knew how to get to without much assistance was the kitchen, gym, and the family room. You had only been to the Genuis Lab once and you racked your brain for any distinguishing details that would help you find it again. What picture was near the door? What color was the door? Was the one with frosted glass or was that Taehyung’s art studio? You could just stand still and wait for Yoongi to come back and find you. Or you could text him that you were going to back to the foyer. Or text one of the others for help? Joon was busy with Jackson, and you weren’t sure where Jin went after that. Jimin, of course, was sick and shouldn’t be disturbed. And you wanted Yoongi to focus on Jimin and not you getting lost. You sent a text to Taehyung, hoping he wasn’t too busy to help you with what he was up to in town. You walked further down the hall only to stop and turn around after not recognizing anything.

Wait, was this the same place you had started? Why must this place be so confusing?

Your phone buzzed. You looked down at Taehyung’s text.

TaeTae: I really got to make you a map LOL.

TaeTae: Do you remember how to find the stairs? Get back there and look for your favorite painting of mine. The G.L is two doors down from that.

TaeTae: If you can’t find it, I’m sure he’ll find you with the cameras. Sorry, I’m at a meeting right now.

You could do this. Just find the stairs. Though that was easier said than done now that you had gotten all turned around. You’re sure Taehyung would make a joke out of this if you were ever found. After another turn, you did see a picture that seemed familiar and went down that direction. As you kept walking, you started to hear voices. At least that was a start. Once you found the source, you could orient yourself or ask for help. You followed the voices, and as they got louder, you recognized RM’s tone and regretted your discussion, not wanting to interrupt. That, and you were sure Yoongi didn’t want you near Jackson again so soon. But as you were about to turn back, their conversation caught your attention.

“Haven’t I been super helpful to ya’ll? Who was the one who gave you that info about the Royals showing up?”

“You, also, neglected to tell us that Choi was going to be there. And that is how Suga got hurt.”

“An oversight. That must have changed at the last minute. I can’t be a mind reader.”

“Even though you market yourself as one?”

“Ok, true. But you of all people should know that they don’t do what they say. Regardless, I told you about the Ateez pirates. I said they were up to something interesting. You should trust me by now. I got the information. I may be an independent player in this game, but I like you guys. That’s why I keep my ears open for you. And, I haven’t spilled anything of yours.”

“That’s because I don’t let you get anything worth spilling.”

“Ouch, you wound me, bro. I thought we were closer than that.”

Before you could help yourself, you found yourself stopped outside of Namjoon’s office. The door was barely cracked, but enough for you to see a bit inside. Namjoon’s office was much different from Yoongi’s; it was a large room with warm hardwood against velvety walls that declared power, with bookcases lining the grand walls. Thick hard-covered books filled the shelves like an extensive library. Seated at an opulent and ornate desk in a high wing backed chair was RM, his fingers threaded together and pressed against his lips as he peered sharply at Jackson. Jackson sat relaxed in a smaller, less comfortable chair. They were bathed in the crackling light of a roaring fire from the Victorian style fireplace that sat across from them. This was what you expected of a Mafia leader.

“I don’t appreciate you making my second so upset. He’s supposed to be recovering. Something he wouldn’t have to be doing had you had better information. Maybe I should start going to someone else.”

Jackson scuffed. “As if anyone could do what I do. Besides, I feel like you would have done it by now if there was anyone else. And if that asshole wasn’t so easily riled up he would be fine. I was just saying ‘hello’ to her. And trying to figure her out. She’s quite a surprise Joon.”

“We are trying to keep her safe. That includes from you, Jackson. She’s a civilian who got caught up in the worst way. We just got her to relax around us. I’d thank you to not undo what I’ve been working hard to do.”

“I hear you. Glad you took my advice to just go with it. I told you nothing bad would happen. I mean, what did you just say? ‘She’s a civilian’. I truly doubted she would be any problems.”

“No thanks to you.” Joon leaned further in his chair, his dragon eyes glowing in the fire light. “I’ve been patient, Jackson. More than I should be given what I am dealing with here. Now, you are going to tell me what I asked you to find out for me before I let Suga do what he wanted to do.”

“Damn, for someone who said it’s all business, you’re really pushing it here.”

“Jackson,” you could tell that Namjoon’s patience was wearing thin. What was he so determined to know? Was it something to do with Choi or the Royals?

“Man, look. I can find information about anyone. With just their name, I can tell you if they had late fees from their elementary school library or how many days their mother spent in the hospital recovering from birth.”

“And yet, it has taken you over a week to get back to me. Either you are slipping or you are full of shit.”

“Or you’re dealing with a ghost.” Jackson reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small notepad. “Everything I found fits on two pages of this little flip pad. Even the most basic civilian fills half of the pages. But this Y/N girl is either that most boring person in the entire world or she’s a ghost.”

Wait, he was here about you? Namjoon was looking for information about you? You thought you had been very open with them about anything they had asked you. He had asked you to trust him, but he didn’t trust you. He had hired Jackson to dig up anything on you that he could. He was nervous when you had first come to the Magic Shop but you thought you had worked past that. Hadn’t the time they had spent with you beforehand been enough to prove that you meant no harm to them or else why would he ask you to come here? You knew you shouldn’t listen to any of this, but you couldn’t move. You sunk to the ground and leaned against the wall, listening.

“What are you talking about?”

Jackson tossed the pad over to him to see for himself. “I mean, this girl has nothing before two years ago. All I could find is that she currently works at Central Mercy as an ER Nurse, she lives in a shitty apartment that’s overpriced for that part of town. Before that, there isn’t much. I found her college she attended for her expedited nursing degree where she got high marks. Her father worked for different police forces as a high up desk jockey, meaning she moved a lot so there isn’t much in regard to early years. But nothing else. Everything starts about two years ago. I was able to find a news article about a car accident that listed her as a passenger, so her amnesia story checks out as far as that. Can’t said I ever heard of someone using amnesia as a cover, but fuck if it wouldn’t be good. Father died and there was no mother listed on any paperwork. Father’s file is just as blank. Just he was basic cop who sat at a desk. After the accident, her only known address was some small studio in her name that was set up by the rehab she was assigned to by some Doctor Sung, who died a year after from a heart attack. Found all his files but it’s nothing interesting. She did some reception job for a clinic before she came here that was a nonprofit for student nurses and that had nothing useful other than what I already had. But that’s all. No ties anywhere, no real records until recently. Either she’s got the most boring, nonspecial life I’ve ever seen, or her life’s been invented by some crazy mastermind. And I’m leaning towards the first one, man. This girl is boring and is nothing in the grand scheme of things. And that’s the truth. The most interesting thing was meeting you guys. She’s harmless. She’s no threat to anyone except maybe herself with that stupid heroic shit. So, you worried for nothing. Your family is safe, just like I said it would be.”

“How can that be all?” Namjoon seemed disappointed. “You’re telling me that there was no other information? How can someone’s life just go back two years? You must have missed something.”

“I don’t miss shit. Listen, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but that’s all there is. Her old man must have been from some off the grid town beforehand and didn’t leave footprints. She’s a nobody. She’s barely worth the time I spent looking for her. So, stop worrying about her like she’s gonna turn into some problem. And if she does, you can kill her easily enough. Hell, there are seven of you, should be easy.”

You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips. Namjoon’s eyes snapped towards the door, knowing full well that he had been caught. He rose from the desk and crossed the room, opening the door to find you rooted in place against the wall, eyes cast down with tears welling in the corners. It wasn’t just from the threat of being killed by the people you were supposed to trust, or the harsh words that Jackson had said about you. But it was the fact that you weren’t trusted. You were not granted the same thing he had begged you to do for them. And that hurt just as much.

“Oh shit,” Jackson said with a hint of glee. “Little mouse likes to sneak around, huh? I can see why you didn’t want to trust her. Seems like she’ll get herself killed before too long.”

“Jackson,” RM roared causing you to shrink further into yourself and the tears to flow freely. Namjoon looked down at you, instantly regretting his tone. He had messed up and he knew that. Moving carefully, he held his hand out to you in a silent plea to take it. Feeling like there was no other choice, you let him pull you up to your feet and into his office. Daring to look at his face, you didn’t see anger or any dangerous threat that you feared for your eavesdropping. You saw remorse and sympathy. He led you towards the fireplace where there were two large armchairs facing each other with a side table full of half-read books. He motioned you to sit before he turned back to Jackson. He took out his phone and sent a quick message. Within a moment, Yeonjun appeared in the door. “That’s enough, Jackson. Thank you for your help. But I need to talk to Y/N. Yeonjun will take you back where he found you. You know the drill.”

“Wow, fastest visit ever. Am I at least getting paid?” Namjoon shot him a look that made him jump and scurry over to the door. “Don’t look so sad, sweetheart. I’m sure he isn’t going to kill you. Let me know if you want to take me up on my offer.”

Yeonjun grabbed Jackson by the collar and dragged him out, shutting the door behind him, leaving you alone with Namjoon and the crackling fire. You thought back to when he had saved you when Choi had you cornered in the hospital hall, how good natured he had been with you, how he had been so open with you before he even knew anything more about you. He had been the one pushing for you to trust them and be comfortable with them. He had wanted you to come to the Magic Shop, was planning on telling you before he got busy. But was it all a ruse to get you to follow along? A handkerchief was pushed into your hands and Joon took a seat in the opposite armchair.

“Y/N, I’m sorry you heard that.” He was sorry? Was he going to reprimand you for eavesdropping? Or tell you that all this was a farce that he was going to drop and forget this life debt he kept pushing? “I was hoping to have talked to him before you ever got here. Just for some extra assurance before we moved forward. I didn’t want you to ever hear that. Jackson can say things harsher than he means. I asked him to do a more detailed background check than I had already done, just to ensure I had all the facts.” He flinched when your breath hitch as more tears fell. He started to reach out his hand to try and comfort you but thought better of it. “I promise, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just needed to be completely sure that we were all going to be safe.”

“I wouldn’t have hurt any of you. I can barely handle myself, let alone do anything to you all,” you cried. “Why would I put myself in this situation? I tried to get away from all of this but you kept me here. I would have told you all of that stuff. It’s all I know about myself since the accident. I have nothing to hide from anyone. I promise I have only told you the truth.”

“I know you have. I’m sure you would have told me everything freely. I fucked up. I can’t say I’m sorry enough.”

“Was he right? Are you going to kill me? Because I seem like a made-up person? Because I don’t have a past?”

“No!” Namjoon rose from his seat and knelt down in front of you, finding your eyes and begging for your attention. “I would never do that. I promised to protect you. And I would do that whether you owed us a life debt or not. This life I’ve been living for the past twelve years has made me question so much about people. I’ve been lied to so many times that it fucks up your mind. Bangtan is my family and it’s my responsibility to protect them. When I met you, I instantly felt like I could trust you. I could see that you were a good person. But we had been fooled by someone we thought we could instantly trust before and I got nervous. But the more we spent with you, I knew it was different. But there was this little part of me that still worried. So, I looked into you after that first day. That’s why I introduced us as Bangtan to you. The others agreed because they saw what I saw in you. We've all been jaded by this life but something in you broke through all of our hesitations. We all think you are a good person and that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us. Once we got you to see what we really were, I thought this would be easier on all fronts.”

“You asked me to trust you but you couldn’t do the same for me?”

“I know. It’s been so long since I could really trust someone. Look at Jackson. Okay, bad example. But I’ve known Jackson almost as long as I’ve known the others. But I still need to keep him at arm’s length or watch what I say around him. It’s different with you. I want to trust you, I do. I just needed to be extra sure that I was doing the right thing. I truly mean that.”

You sat in silence for a long while as your breath evened out and your tears ceased. You could understand his hesitation. How could he be sure that you weren’t lying? It made sense, but hearing Jackson’s words, imagining that’s how they saw you, it was hard. But you had been so back and forth with their trust, too.

“I really wish we could just start over.”

“What do you want to know?” You took a deep breath and leaned back into the armchair. “What else do you need to hear? You want to be sure? Ask away. I only know so much. You guys have asked me to trust you and you told me things that would be helpful. I will try to do the same so we can share a common ground. Maybe one day I’ll know more and I can tell you more. But I can tell you what I can.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t need to do that. I trust you.” He stood up and moved towards his desk. But you grabbed his hand, steeling yourself to open up as much as you could. He could sense your determination and returned to the armchair. “Just tell me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I never really talk about this. It’s hard to talk about. But I can confirm that what Jackson said was all true. It’s actually pretty much all I know for myself. My first actual memory is waking up in a small hospital room in so much pain. There was a man sitting next to me that I didn’t remember. He was my friend, he showed me pictures of us at school. His name was Daniel. I don’t know his last name, I never asked or remembered it. He’s the one who told me about the accident. My father’s car was hit from the side and flipped. He didn’t make it. Daniel spent weeks by my side as I recovered. Dr. Sung was this older doctor who watched over me and helped me recover. Once I was moved to his rehab, Dr. Sung prescribed me all these different treatments but my memories never came back. Daniel brought me my old schoolwork, my old journals, anything that could help me find myself. But there wasn’t much. Jackson said something about us moving a lot. After a year, I could recall little things about places I believe I lived. But there was never anything concrete. No friends or family reached out. Daniel told me that it was just me and dad. He had never heard us talk about anyone else. I guess we didn’t stay long in places. After I was released from the rehab, Daniel and I moved into this small apartment that was far away from everything. The rehab set it up to help me adjust to the world. But I was like a zombie, depressed, broken. After six months, I started trying to get better, start over. Daniel and I started dating, I found a job that was walking distance from my place. All my medical training came back over time. Just not anything else. And that was my life for almost two years. But, almost five months ago, Daniel and I split up and I came to Central to get away from all the unpleasantness. I’d prefer not to go into that if that’s alright. We weren’t good together anymore. Since I’ve been away, I’ve started remembering little flashes of things that don’t make a lot of sense. Amber thinks it’s because I’m away from the trauma. I don’t even know if I want to remember anymore. But if I remember anything more, I promise I’ll tell you once I figure it all out.”

Namjoon reached out and took your hand. “It’s okay. Thank you for sharing that with me. I promise to be more upfront about any questions I have. I trust you.”

“I trust you, too.”

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ntoxicatedcherri · 4 months

Text

WARNING: 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS ALLOWED. Supernatural themes, mentions of violence and manipulation, kidnapping themes, and coercion if you squint. This story contains smut and is dark in content. This is not meant to represent Jackson in anyway. This is purely fiction. If the themes mentioned above make you uncomfortable, do not read.

Word Count: 13.694

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Black!Original Female Character

This is for the Black K-Pop Girlies. I'm new to it but I love it. We don't have a lot of representation in this space either, so this is my contribution. I will be writing more in the future as well because Black K-Pop Fans exist and we are valid.

You’re safe. No one will hurt you.

Atabey could hear her grandmother’s voice

The goddess will protect you.

White sheets covered the mirrors.

The blue and green glass bottles still hung from the branches.

Evil cannot enter this home.

But Atabey’s soul told her….

Something else.

The wood floors creaked as she walked the floor of Sylvia, her grandmother’s, home. It was well into the night. The time on her grandfather’s old pocket watch read 2:59 am.

The rain spattered against the window pane. The lightning lit up the sky, casting purple and indigo against the clouds. These were the nights her grandmother would tell her,

“Goddess Aaerie is talking. Be still and listen.”

Sleep didn’t find her easily these days. Her heart is still aching for her grandmother. Her last days filled Atabey with pain as she watched her slowly slip away. Muttering to herself about evil in the shadows.

Atabey would braid her hair as her grandmother would rock herself back and forth, whispering prayers, and singing. Her last words were, “Keep the devil in the night. Keep the Goddess with you. Always.” as she passed her a silver necklace, covered in blessed oil.

Atabey didn’t know what she was talking about, but her blessing made her feel safe.

But her soul told her….

Atabey

The sound of her name chilled her bones. Where did it come from? She was here alone.

Atabey. Come to me baby.

Atabey’s heart beats faster and faster. She crept to the front door. Her hands shook as she reached for the knob. She slowly opened it, the wind immediately sweeping her nightgown into the breeze. The rain poured, slightly obstructing her vision.

But she could see a figure standing at the end of the end of the walkway. The lightning struck and she could see his slim figure. He was wearing all black. His light colored hair shone bright in the moonlight.

It was almost like he was standing right in front of her.

Sweetheart…Sweetheart, come here.

The wind carried his voice to her ears. Her body dared to move closer to him.

Sweetheart…Come here. Now.

Her feet crossed the threshold of the house. The rain soaked her nightgown, the wind chilled her bones. Atabey’s mind was blank. She could only see him. She could only hear him.

That’s it. That’s my good girl. Come to me, baby.

He held out his hand to her. She was so close.Her fingertips grazed his palm. The silver necklace around her neck burned, snapping her from her trance. When lightning struck again, Atabey could see his wicked grin. The lust and desire in his dark eyes made her blood run cold.

Don’t be afraid, baby.

Her voice failed her, as fear overtook her body. Atabey turned, and ran as fast as she could, back to your grandmother’s house. She could see her grandmother. She was standing in the doorway, arms open wide for her.

You cannot run forever, sweetheart. You belong to me.

Atabey slammed the door behind her. Her body shook from the immense fear that soaked into every pore of her being. Atabey could hear her grandmother’s voice. Singing and praying.

“Keep the devil in the night. Keep the Goddess with you. Always.”

Atabey was safe. No one can hurt her.

But her soul told her

Something else…..

Four Months Later

Under the warm embrace of the afternoon sun, Atabey moved gracefully through her grandmother’s garden, a patch of earthly paradise tucked away in the heart of her home. The scent of blooming roses, honeysuckles, lilies, and tulips mingled in the air, creating a symphony of fragrances that enveloped the senses.

As she knelt among the sea of colors, Atabey's eyes surveyed the vibrant tapestry she had cultivated. The roses, with their velvety petals, whispered tales of love and passion. Honeysuckles, weaving through trellises, released their sweet fragrance like secrets carried by the breeze. Lilies, elegant and regal, stood as guardians of the garden's soul, while tulips, their vibrant hues a testament to the spectrum of life, bowed gracefully in the sun's gentle glow.

The scent of apricot and honey filled her nose as she coated herself in the oil, High Priestess Ariah, gave her. Atabey had not been able to truly find comfort since that night. His smile would flash in her mind, sending a chill down her spine.

Although, she did her best to convince herself it was just a dream-it didn’t work. She could still hear his voice in the night, calling her name in a sweet, honeyed tone. Her body would fight against her, wanting to follow the sound of his voice. All she could do was pray and call out to her Goddess.

From the day she turned twenty-one, her grandmother and the other High Priestesses told her that she was blessed. The golden tattoos that appeared on her skin, deemed her as the Goddess’s chosen daughter. The daughter who would lead her generation of sisters to prosperity through truth, virtue, and dignity. It was a heavy burden on her shoulders but she knew that she had to carry it.

Atabey grabbed her wicker basket and began to grab flowers from her garden to take to the temple for offering. She was preparing for her crossing ceremony tonight. During this ceremony, she would commune and ascend to the level of the chosen daughters before her. Through their guidance and wisdom would she be able to properly lead.

She picked her honeysuckles, lilies, and tulips. The fruit on her trees had not bloomed yet, or she would have picked apples, oranges, and lemons to offer to the Goddess as well.

She placed the basket on her hip and headed toward the wooden gate of the garden. She was eager to get to the temple and be in her Goddess’s presence. She used to be afraid of the idea of ascending. She was told that she would be separated from her body and enter the spirit realm to commune with those before her. In other words, she would enter a state of death temporarily. But through prayers and encouragement, she overcame that fear.

Close your eyes, my precious one,Underneath the moonlit sky,For in your dreams, the goddess comes,To bless you as you lie.

She chose you, child, from realms afar,To hold her light within,So hush now, dear, and heed her call,Let her love gently begin.

May stars above, in their celestial dance,Guide you through the night,And may the goddess' tender embrace,Fill your dreams with pure delight.

Sleep now, my darling, safe and sound,In the cradle of her grace,For you are chosen, blessed, and loved,In her divine embrace.

Atabey sang to herself. It was a song her grandmother had sung to her as soon as she was identified as the Chosen Daughter. It always brought her comfort.

As she walked through the tall grass, she could see a figure up ahead. She couldn’t tell who they were due to their head being covered by a black hood and their back was to her. Her heart began to beat faster. Her mind flashed back to that night.

Her footsteps slowed. So did theirs. Atabey moved to her left to hide behind a tree. Her nerves were on edge. She had been paranoid ever since that dream to the point where any unfamiliar face or presence she immediately took as a threat. She peeked around the tree to see that the person had disappeared. She wasn’t sure how they’d gone so fast but she took that moment to flee the area as soon as possible to make it to the temple.

She didn’t want her fear to keep holding her back. Maybe once she ascended, these fears won’t be so heavy on her. She sent a silent prayer to her Goddess.

No one can hurt you.

Atabey continued her journey toward the temple. As she wandered toward the forest that hid the temple, she felt a chill go down her spine. She could feel that someone was watching her. She looked back over her shoulder to see a man standing where she just was. He was wearing all black with vibrant red hair, holding an apple just as bright. He cocked his head to the side and waved at her.

Atabey’s blood ran cold. He made no move toward her but Atabey could feel the power emanating from him still. Her heart was in her throat. Who was he and why was he watching her?

It was when he took a step toward her, that her basket fell to her feet. She was frozen in her spot. He was so fast, it was as if his every step was the length of twelve.

Atabey finally willed her body to move. She turned to the forest and ran. Sticks pricked her feet as she bounded across the earth. She dared to look over her shoulder again. She could see his face clearly now. His pale skin glimmered in the bit of light filtering through the canopy. His eyes were a brilliant blue. He was not the man from that night, but he still felt familiar.

Atabey turned around and collided with something hard. A pair of arms grabbed her to steady her. She looked up and saw the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. The way they sparkled in the sunlight that managed to filter through the canopy had her heart beating faster. He smiled down at her. She could see his lips moving but she couldn’t hear over the sound of her own heart pounding.

“Miss?”

Atabey snapped out of her trance.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you”

“It’s okay. Why were you running like that?”

“There’s a man over there. He appeared out of nowhere and I think he wanted to hurt me.”

The man looked past Atabey with confusion on his face. Atabey looked over her shoulder to see that no one was there. She was standing here in front of a beautiful man, breathless, speaking of a man who disappeared into thin air. She was sure she looked crazy. Where had he gone that fast? Atabey reached up for her necklace, but the jewelry was missing. She looked around, frantically, for her necklace. Atabey parted the grass and turned over every leaf. She needed her necklace. It was her lifeline.

The man bent down and grabbed Atabey’s trembling hands.

“I don’t see a man, but if you say you saw one then you saw one. Maybe you shouldn’t be out here alone. Where were you headed, I can take you there if you’d like?”

Atabey bit down on her lip. Should she go with him? Should she trust him? He appeared out of nowhere too…

It’s okay. He won’t hurt you, sweetheart. Trust him. He will bring you to me.

“It’s alright, Atabey. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Atabey pulled her hands away and slowly took a step back away from the man. His smile faltered a bit. He did it so fast that it wouldn’t have been noticeable had she not been looking at him.

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

The man dropped his hands to his side. He turned his head and laughed to himself. Atabey, still backing away from him, kept her eyes on him. She wasn’t sure what he was capable of and because she hadn’t ascended yet, she wasn’t sure what she was capable of either.

“Wow Christopher. You really fucked that up. Hyunjin, help me with this please.”

The red-haired man, who is assumed to be Hyunjin, appeared next to him. He looked annoyed with the dark-haired man next to him.

Atabey turned to run and collided with Hyunjin. He didn’t speak. He only kissed his fingertips and placed them on her lips. Atabey started to feel light headed and began to sway on her feet. She pushed past Hyunjin and tried to move through the trees to escape. Her feet felt heavy. The world around her started to move in slow motion.

What did he do to her?

She collapsed to the ground. She did her best to crawl away. Her vision started to blur and darken around the edges. Her body gave up on her and she could no longer move.

She felt weightless.

“I’m sorry Daughter of Aaerie. But he wants you and whatever he wants, he gets''

Atabey’s ears began to ring. It felt as if the ground was opening beneath her to swallow her whole. Heat began to encompass her body. She could feel flames lick her skin. It didn’t burn but the sensation was strange against her skin.

Atabey did her best to look through the blur in her vision but her senses were immediately overwhelmed by the opulent grandeur that surrounded her. The air was heavy with the scent of black pepper, cardamom, cinnamon, and clove. Beneath those scents was the metallic stench of blood.

Atabey's gaze was drawn inexorably to the walls, where torches, ensconced in sconces fashioned from the bones of fallen warriors, cast dancing shadows upon the stone floor, their flickering light imbuing the chamber with an otherworldly ambiance.

Stones of sapphire, emerald, ruby, and topaz were embedded in the rough-hewn stone like stars scattered across the night sky. Each gem glimmered with its own inner light, reflecting the torches' flames in a dazzling display of color and brilliance.

At the far end of the chamber, upon a dais of polished black marble, sits a throne—a formidable seat of power crafted from the bones of fallen titans and encrusted with gemstones of incomparable rarity and beauty.

She could feel the weight of body returning to her. Her fingers fidgeted against the stone floor.

She could feel the eyes of unseen watchers upon her, their presence a silent reminder of the ancient powers that dwell within these walls. And yet, despite the palpable sense of danger that hangs in the air, there is also a strange allure—a whisper of temptation that beckons her closer, drawing her toward the throne and the enigmatic figure who sits upon it.

With his eyes adorned in dark makeup that accentuates their piercing gaze, he commands the room with an air of quiet authority that would send shivers down the spine of even the bravest souls.

Clad in a black mesh shirt that clings to his powerful frame, he exudes an aura of raw strength and dark allure. The fabric whispers as he moves, revealing tantalizing glimpses of skin beneath its veil, hinting at the secrets that lie hidden beneath the surface.

In his hand, he holds a glass of dark liquor, the amber liquid swirling within its confines like liquid shadows. As he raises the glass to his lips, the flickering torchlight casts dancing shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his features and lending an otherworldly intensity to his dark eyes. There is a dangerous elegance to his movements, a sense of quiet power that is as intoxicating as the liquor he drinks.

As he rises from his throne, a palpable tension fills the air, thick with anticipation and a hint of danger. He moves with a predatory grace, his eyes locked on Atabey with a gaze that seems to strip away the layers of her very being, laying bare her deepest desires and fears.

With each step he takes, the sound of his boots echoes through the chamber like a death knell, sending a shiver down Atabey's spine. She can feel the weight of his presence bearing down upon her, suffocating her with its intensity, yet drawing her in with a magnetic pull that she cannot resist.

As he approaches, his movements are deliberate, his every gesture laden with a sense of power and control that leaves Atabey feeling both exhilarated and unnerved. She can sense the darkness that surrounds him, a swirling maelstrom of shadows and lust that threatens to engulf her whole.

Suddenly, without warning, his hand lashes out, sending his glass bottle hurtling towards the wall with a force that shatters it into a thousand glittering shards. The sound echoes through the chamber thunderously, a loud crack that reverberates in Atabey's ears, leaving her trembling in its wake.

In that moment, fear and desire collide within Atabey's veins, warring for dominance over her senses. She can feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her heart racing in her chest as she struggles to reconcile the conflicting emotions that rage within her.

On one hand, there is an instinctual terror that grips her soul, a primal fear of the darkness that surrounds him like a cloak. And yet, intertwined with that fear is an undeniable attraction, a magnetic pull that draws her towards him with a force that she cannot resist.

As he draws closer, the conflicting emotions within Atabey reach a fever pitch, threatening to consume her whole. She knows that she should flee, that she should run far and fast from the danger that lurks in his gaze. And yet, despite the warnings screaming in her mind, she finds herself rooted to the spot. A sense of familiarity starts to settle with her as she looks up at the man who stands before her—the man from those months ago, whose very presence ignites a fire within her that she cannot extinguish.

“Who are you?”

As Atabey's voice cuts through the tension-laden air, Jackson's gaze softens, his eyes momentarily losing their steely edge as he looks upon her with a mixture of longing and affection. Despite the darkness that surrounds him, there is a vulnerability in his gaze, a glimpse of the man beneath the facade of the King of Shadows.

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he hears her question, a gentle warmth suffusing his expression as he steps closer to her. His voice is low and husky, tinged with a hint of emotion that belies the stoic exterior he presents to the world.

"My dear Atabey," he murmurs, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a familiarity that speaks of a deeper connection between them. "I am many things—a ruler, a shadow in the night—but above all else, I am yours. My name is Ka-Yee, but you may call me Jackson''

There is a tenderness in his words, a sincerity that cuts through the darkness like a ray of sunlight piercing the clouds. As he reaches out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch is gentle, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek with a reverence that speaks volumes.

He leaned down to her, his lips gently ghosting over hers. Not a kiss, but a delicate brush.

“Welcome home, baby.”

A searing heat flooded through Atabey’s body. Her golden tattoos slowly changing to crimson. Atabey looked down at her body in horror and instinctively recoiled from his touch, a flicker of frustration crossed Jackson's features, darkening his usually composed expression. His brows knit together slightly, a furrow forming between them as he watches her retreat, a pang of hurt and confusion tugging at his heart.

For a brief moment, the vulnerability in his gaze gives way to a flash of irritation, a shadow of frustration clouding the depths of his eyes. It's as if a barrier has been erected between them, a wall of uncertainty that threatens to drive them apart.

Despite his efforts to conceal it, the frustration is palpable in the tension that creeps into his posture, the set of his jaw tightening imperceptibly as he struggles to reign in his emotions. His fingers curl into fists at his sides, a silent testament to the restraint he exercises in the face of Atabey's rejection.

But beneath the mask of frustration, there lingers a deeper well of longing—a yearning that refuses to be ignored.

Atabey picks herself up from the floor and runs toward the ornate doors of the throne room.

“Would you like me to go after her?” Hyunjin asked, suddenly appearing beside him.

“No need. She has no idea where she’s going.”

As Atabey flees from Jackson's throne room, her heart pounds in her chest like a drumbeat echoing through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle. Panic courses through her veins, driving her forward with a desperate urgency as she searches for an escape from the oppressive darkness that surrounds her.

The winding passageways seem to stretch on endlessly, twisting and turning in a dizzying maze that leaves Atabey feeling disoriented and lost. Shadows dance along the walls, casting eerie shapes that seem to leer at her from the darkness, and the flickering torchlight offers little solace as it plays tricks on her senses.

With each step, Atabey's fear grows, gnawing at the edges of her mind like a ravenous beast. She can feel the weight of the castle pressing down upon her, suffocating her with its embrace, and the sense of isolation only serves to deepen her unease.

And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, Atabey finds herself standing before a room unlike any she has seen before. Its entrance is shrouded in darkness, a sheer fabric that billows gently in the stagnant air, offering no clue as to what lies beyond.

For a moment, Atabey hesitates, her heart hammering in her chest as she debates whether to enter. But the sense of urgency that drives her forward outweighs her apprehension, and with a trembling hand, she pushes aside the fabric and steps into the unknown.

As she crosses the threshold, Atabey is enveloped in darkness, the oppressive silence of the room closing in around her like a suffocating cloak. But even in the midst of her fear, there is a sense of relief—a respite from the chaos and confusion that swirls outside.

With a deep breath, Atabey gathers her courage and presses forward, determined to uncover the secrets that lie hidden within the shadows.

Suddenly the torch lights flickered on.

The chamber is a realm unto itself, a sanctuary of opulence and intrigue nestled within the castle.

The centerpiece of the room is a massive bed, its intricately carved frame reaching towards the vaulted ceiling like a monument to decadence. Draped in sumptuous silks and velvets of deepest black, the bed beckons with an irresistible allure, promising comfort and luxury beyond compare.

Along the walls, rubies and aquamarines are set into the stone like jewels in a crown, their vibrant colors casting shimmering reflections across the chamber. Each gem seems to pulse with its own inner light, bathing the room in a kaleidoscope of hues that dance across the walls like ripples on a pond.

Above the bed hangs a mirror of polished silver, its surface gleaming with an otherworldly sheen. As Atabey approaches, she catches her reflection in the mirror's depths, her features bathed in the soft light of the torches as if seen through a veil of moonlight.

But it is not just the sight of the room that captivates Atabey—it is the scent that fills the air, a heady blend of tobacco and vanilla that hangs like a fragrant cloud around her. The aroma is intoxicating, wrapping her in its warm embrace.

As she inhales deeply, Atabey feels a sense of calm wash over her, the scent of tobacco and vanilla mingling with the whispers of the shadows to create a symphony of sensation that soothes her troubled mind.

“Well, I was going to wait to bring you here sweetheart, but since you’ve made your way into my chambers-shall I make love to you now?”

Atabey's heart leaps into her throat as she feels his presence behind her, a shiver running down her spine at Jackson's proximity. She turns slowly, her pulse quickening with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation, her breath catching in her throat as she meets his gaze.

There he stands, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that sends a thrill coursing through her veins. Atabey's mind whirls with a whirlwind of emotions—surprise, desire, fear, and longing intertwining like threads in a tangled tapestry.

As Jackson's words wash over her, Atabey feels a flush of heat spreading across her cheeks, her heart pounding in her chest echoing through the cavernous chamber. She was speechless, caught off guard by his boldness, yet unable to deny the flicker of desire that ignites within her at his words.

Jackson’s eyes drifted over to the bed. The large fixture beckoning to him. The vermillion sheets. He wanted Atabey there, spread open for his pleasure.

He reached out and touched her with the tips of his fingers. His touch was soft against her skin. He pulled her closer to him, burying face in the crook of her neck. Atabey's scent is a symphony of floral and fruity notes, each one intertwining with the next to create a fragrance that is both complex and enchanting. There are hints of jasmine and rose, their heady sweetness mingling with the light, airy notes of cherry blossoms and peach.

With each inhale, Jackson is transported to a world of beauty and serenity, his mind awash with images of sun-dappled meadows and blossoming orchards.

And as he presses his lips to the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent with every breath, Jackson knows that he is lost. His tongue traces her jawline, sending a rush of heat over her body. Jackson moans at the taste of her and starts to push her back toward the bed. The backs of her legs collide with the plushness of the mattress. The silk and velvet fabrics gently caressed her skin as her body settled into the bed.

She shudders as his hands push her skirt up her body. His touch is gentle against her. Atabey’s eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him. He nestled himself between her thighs, his tongue still tasting the skin of her neck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you, my love. I’ve been drinking my loneliness away, but you’re here now. I love you so much.” Jackson groaned. A ripping sound reached her ears, as Jackson tore the bodice of her dress.

“You don’t know how bad I want you on top of me, beneath me, screaming and crying my name sweetheart. I’ve only dreamed of this moment.” Jackson whimpered against her flesh.

That searing hot feeling flooded through Atabey again.

Atabey! Stop!

Atabey forced her eyes open, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Her tattoos were changing to red again.

She pressed her hands against Jackson’s chest and pushed him away. Jackson stares down at her, a pained look on his face. She kicked away from him, forcing her body up the bed and toward the bed frame. She had been fighting a fierce desire from the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

Jackson’s gaze was still intense, full of desire and restraint as his eyes trailed her body. She covered her exposed skin with her hands, cowering beneath his gaze.

“I can’t be here. I have to leave. I need to go to Aaerie’s temple. I need to go home.”

“Baby, this is your home now. I’ve waited for you for so long, and I can’t wait any longer. If you went to Aaerie’s temple, I would’ve lost you forever. And that goddess be damned if I lose you.”

Atabey met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and anger, her jaw set in a determined line as she spoke.

Aaerie be damned? Who is this man and how dare he curse your goddess?

"I am chosen by the Goddess Aaerie to lead my people. It is my duty, my purpose. I cannot abandon them, just as Aaerie has never abandoned me.”

Atabey pushed herself off of the bed and headed toward the sheer fabric of his room. As Atabey steps out of Jackson's chamber, the labyrinthine hallways of the underworld castle stretch out before her like a maze of twisting corridors and shadowed alcoves. Each turn she takes seems to lead her further from her intended path, the oppressive darkness of the castle closing in around her like a suffocating embrace.

Jackson’s presence seems to haunt her at every turn, his voice a constant whisper in the back of her mind, urging her to stay—to return to him and let him show her how much she means to him.

But Atabey pushes on, her determination driving her forward even as doubt gnaws at the edges of her consciousness. She knows that she cannot stay, that she must escape the clutches of this place and return to her people—to fulfill her destiny as their chosen leader.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of wandering through the maze-like corridors, Atabey reaches the doors to the castle—the threshold between the world she knows and the unknown expanse of the crimson desert beyond.

But as she reaches for the door handle, Jackson calls out to her. Turning slowly, Atabey's heart sinks as she sees Jackson standing before her once again, his expression pained and desperate.

Why does she feel guilty for leaving?

"Atabey,," his voice was loud and commanding, echoing in the silence of the deserted hallway. "You cannot leave. You will die out there without me.”

“No, I cannot stay here. My people need me.”

“If you walk out that door, death or life, whatever fate has for you is on you.”

With that, she pushes open the doors and steps outside, into the crimson desert beyond. The air is dry and acrid, the sky above dark and foreboding, illuminated only by the eerie glow of a blood-red moon.

As Atabey takes her first steps into the unknown, she feels a sudden weakness wash over her, her vision blurring and her limbs growing heavy.

How long have I been walking?

Panic rises within her as she finally realizes that she is alone, lost in a vast and unforgiving wilderness with no one to guide her.

With a sinking heart, she looks back towards the castle, hoping to see someone behind her, ready to come to her aid. But to her horror, she finds only emptiness—the castle was no longer visible. Only the red desert was present, the wind whirling the red sand around her, as if mocking her with an impassive indifference.

Atabey trudges through the vast expanse of the crimson desert, each step feels like a struggle against the oppressive weight of the world bearing down upon her. The air is thick with the acrid scent of sand and dust, the heat of the desert beating down upon her like a relentless hammer.

With every passing moment, Atabey's strength wanes.

Her limbs grew heavier with each labored breath. The sand beneath her feet seems to shift and sway, mocking her with its endless expanse, as if daring her to continue on in the face of the odds against her.

And then, with a suddenness that takes her breath away, Atabey's legs give out beneath her, the weight of her exhaustion finally overcoming her. She collapses onto the burning sand, her body trembling with fatigue and despair as she struggles to push herself back to her feet.

But the desert shows no mercy, its unforgiving embrace swallowing her whole as she sinks deeper into its crimson depths.

**********

For a moment, Atabey lies there, helpless and alone, the vastness of the desert stretching out before her like an endless sea of torment. But then, with a quickness that catches her off guard, darkness descends upon her vision, and she slips into unconsciousness, her body succumbing to the exhaustion of her ordeal.

When Atabey awakens, she finds herself lying on Jackson's bed, the softness of the mattress beneath her a stark contrast to the harshness of the desert sands. For a moment, she is disoriented, unsure of how she came to be here, but then the memories come flooding back—the desert, the heat, the overwhelming sense of despair.

As she sits up, her heart heavy with confusion and longing, Atabey casts a gaze around the room, searching for any sign of Jackson's presence. But, she finds herself alone, the room shrouded in silence save for the sound of her own ragged breath.

As Atabey's gaze drifts up to the mirror above Jackson's bed, she is taken aback by the sight that greets her. Gone is the simple attire she wore before—now, she is adorned in a sleek black dress that hugs her curves like a second skin. The bottom of the dress stopped just above her knees, giving a peek to her thick thighs.. A leather corset cinches her waist, accentuating her thicker frame and adding a hint of edge to her, usual, innocent appearance.

For a moment, Atabey can't help but marvel at the transformation, the unfamiliar garments lending her an air of mystery and allure that she had never known before. She runs her hands over the smooth fabric of her dress, the sensation sending shivers racing down her spine as she takes in her reflection with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

But as she sits up in the bed, her attention is drawn to a more pressing concern—the parched feeling in her throat that serves as a stark reminder of her ordeal in the desert. With a grimace, she reaches up to touch her throat, the skin feeling dry and rough beneath her fingertips.

“Hello, sweetheart. You’re finally awake.”

Jackson’s sudden appearance is an unexpected interruption to Atabey's thoughts. She turns to face him, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him dressed all in red, the black makeup still lingering beneath his eyes like a shadow.

In his hands, he carries a tray laden with a cup of water and a platter of various meats, cheeses, fruits, and vegetables. As he sets the tray down on the bed before her, Atabey can't help but feel a pang of gratitude at the gesture, despite the fear and resentment currently flowing through her.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she reaches for the cup of water, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat with every sip. She casts a sideways glance at Jackson, who sat down next to her on the bed. He gently traced her jawline with his thumb before doing the same to her bottom lip.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

"Why do you insist on calling me those names?" she demands, her voice tinged with frustration. "My love, sweetheart, baby—what do they mean to you?"

Jackson meets her gaze with a steady intensity, his eyes burning with a fervor that sends a shiver down Atabey's spine.

"Because that's what you are to me, Atabey," he replies, his voice low and husky with emotion. "You are my love, my sweetheart, my baby. We are destined to be together, now and forever."

But Atabey shakes her head, her resolve unwavering even in the face of Jackson's unmoving conviction.

"You say things like that but you were willing to let me die out there. My goddess would never."

Jackson's expression darkens, a shadow passing over his features as he listens to her words.

"Your goddess," he scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. "She doesn't choose people to lead. She chooses innocent women to feast on their souls until they die slowly, and they end up down here in the underworld with me. Besides, that was a lesson you needed to learn."

A cracking sound was heard as Atabey’s hand collided with Jackson’s face. This was the second time he disrespected her goddess and she was becoming annoyed by it. And a lesson she needed to learn? Who was he to think he was qualified to teach her anything?

Jackson laughed, his husky voice filling the space. He admired her tenacity.

“You find me funny? You are a pig for disrespecting Aaerie.”

“Of course I find you funny, my love. You have such an unwavering devotion to that heartless deity, who has never shown you any proof of her love, and yet you are not even giving me the chance to show you my love and devotion. You would rather continue worshiping an evil, soulless wench. It is quite funny.”

Atabey refuses to believe that her goddess could be capable of such cruelty. "I don't believe you," she declares, her voice laced with venom.

A smirk appears on Jackson’s face. Darkness flickering in his eyes as he reaches out to gently cup Atabey's cheek. "Then let me show you," he murmurs, his touch sending shivers racing down her spine. "Come with me, Atabey. Let me show you the truth."

Jackson held out his hand to her. Atabey slapped it away from her before standing up from the bed. She nodded her head toward the sheer fabric.

“Lead the way”

*************

As Jackson leads Atabey through the corridors of the underworld, a sense of apprehension hangs heavy in the air. Atabey's heart pounds in her chest like a drumbeat echoing through the cavernous passageways, her senses on high alert as she follows Jackson deeper into the heart of darkness.

Could it be true? Could her goddess be nothing more than a cruel trickster, luring innocent souls to their doom in the depths of the underworld?

Finally, they come upon what appears to be a dead end—a solid wall of stone stretching out before them with no apparent way forward. But as Jackson places his hand upon what seems to be a random rock jutting out from the wall, a mirage-like filter shimmers into existence, revealing a hidden passage beyond.

With a sense of trepidation, Atabey follows Jackson through the opening, her breath catching in her throat as they step into the dimly lit chamber beyond. And then, as the darkness gives way to light, Atabey's eyes widen in astonishment at the sight that greets her—a crystal-clear lake shimmering in the center of the chamber, surrounded by a multitude of spirits weeping silently upon its shores.

Each spirit is a woman, their ethereal forms adorned with tattoos similar to Atabey's own. They sit in silent vigil around the lake, their eyes brimming with tears as they gaze into its depths with a haunting sense of longing.

Jackson calls out to them in an ancient language, his voice echoing off the walls of the chamber like a whisper in the wind. Slowly, the spirits turn to face them, their faces etched with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

One of the spirits steps forward, her form glowing with an otherworldly light as she reaches out a hand to Atabey. With trembling fingers, Atabey reaches out to touch hers, feeling a surge of power pass between them as their hands meet.

Tears stream down the spirit's face as she speaks in a language unknown to Atabey, her words carrying the weight of centuries of sorrow and regret. But as Jackson translates her words, Atabey's heart clenches with a sense of disbelief and horror at the truth she reveals.

The spirits, it seems, were once like Atabey—chosen by their goddess Aaerie to ascend and lead their people. But instead of finding glory and honor in the world above, they were deceived and betrayed, their souls consumed by Aaerie and the remaining sent to the darkness of the underworld.

As the weight of the revelation settles upon her, Atabey feels her mind spinning with disbelief and fear. She recoils from Jackson's touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggles to process the enormity of what she has learned.

“I want to go home.” Tears started to fall from Atabey’s eyes.

“Baby, you are home. This is your home now.” Jackson grabbed the back of Atabey’s head and cradled her in his arms.

Atabey pushed against Jackson’s frame. Her eyes red from the tears in her eyes.

“I want to go back to my home. My grandmother’s home. Take me home”

“Atabey, I want nothing more than to give you everything you want. But I cannot give you that. Anything else you desire of me, it’s yours.” He traced a fingertip from her jaw down her neck and to her collarbone. “And soon, I hope that you’ll want me the way that I want you, sweetheart.”

Atabey's vision began to blur, her head swimming with dizziness as the pressure in her skull built to a crescendo. She staggered, her knees buckled beneath her as darkness closed in around her, and in the chaos of the moment, Jackson caught her in his arms, his voice a distant echo in the darkness as she slipped into unconsciousness.

********

As Atabey's eyes flutter open, she finds herself once again in Jackson's room, the familiar surroundings providing a strange sense of comfort amidst the chaos of her thoughts. But this time, there is something different—a subtle shift in the air that sets her senses on edge.

She can feel it—the presence of another, the faint sound of water splashing echoing through the room from behind a sheer black fabric that hangs like a veil between her and the unknown.

Curiosity piqued, Atabey sits up in the bed, her eyes scanning the room until they land upon her reflection in the mirror. She gasps in astonishment at the sight that greets her, a vision of herself adorned in a stunning red corset dress, the fabric hugging her curves with a sensual elegance that takes her breath away.

With a hesitant step, Atabey rises from the bed, the fabric of her dress rustling softly as she moves. Her heart races with anticipation as she approaches the sheer black fabric that separates her from whatever lies beyond.

With a trembling hand, she reaches out and pulls back the fabric, revealing a sight that leaves her breathless—a bathing pool, steam rising from its surface like wisps of fog in the morning light.

And there, amidst the swirling steam, sits Jackson, his blond hair dripping water as he cleanses himself in the warm embrace of the pool. Atabey's breath catches in her throat at the sight of him—his muscles glistening with droplets of water, his skin bronzed and radiant in the soft glow of the room.

For a moment, time seems to stand still as Atabey drinks in the sight before her, her heart pounding in her chest with a mixture of desire and longing. She feels a flush of heat spreading across her cheeks as she watches him, the intensity of her gaze never wavering as she takes in every detail of his form.

He leaned to the side and grabbed an emerald glass bottle. He poured, what smelled like eucalyptus oil, into his other hand. Atabey bit down on her bottom lips as she watched him rub that oil over his chest.

I could do that for him….

And then, as if he could read her mind, Jackson looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers with a knowing smile that sent a shiver down her spine. He could feel himself hardening under her gaze, as he held out his hand to her.

“You are more than welcome to join me, sweetheart.”

Atabey steps back from the sheer fabric, her cheeks burn with embarrassment, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground as she tries to regain her composure. She can feel the weight of Jackson's presence in the room, his every movement sent a shiver down her spine as she struggled to meet his eyes.

Atabey looks up as Jackson walks back into the room. Water dripped from his hair down his face. The droplets slid down to his neck and chest. He swiped his hand down his bare chest and to his pelvis. Atabey couldn’t help but follow his hands on his body as he stood, naked, before her.

“Do you like what you see, baby?”

“I…You…Big” Atabey could feel her stomach clench at the erotic thoughts that started to bombard her.

Jackson. Naked. Bed. Writhing. Sweaty. Needy.

Atabey dropped her eyes to the floor. She was still trying to process Aaerie being an evil deity and consuming the souls of her worshippers. She needed to focus. She couldn’t lose herself in Jackson’s naked form at the moment.

Too risky.

She feels a sense of relief as Jackson hands her the cup of water that was sitting on the table in the center of the room.

As much as she wanted to take her mind off of it, she could feel Jackson staring at her. Unashamed at his nudity, he continued to watch her.

“I would have loved for you to join me. I could have given you immense pleasure.”

“Please, don’t. You shouldn’t say things like that to me.”

“You’re right. How about I show you? Tell me to show you, sweetheart.”

Atabey looked up to see Jackson stroking himself. He bit down on his bottom lip, staring at her with a fire she had never seen in anyone before.

“No.” Atabey looked away, doing her best to not let her true feelings show.

Jackson knelt down in front of her. He hands gently caressing her legs.

“I know you feel the connection between us, baby.” Jackson gently kissed her thighs.

“And if I do? That doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you.”

“Oh baby, neither of us will be sleeping.” Jackson’s intense gaze swept over her. He wanted nothing more than to rip that dress from her body and consume her, but he wanted her to want it too.

“You shouldn’t talk like that. I want no part of you.”

“I think you want every part of me” Jackson reached out and traced her bottom lip with his thumb.

“You truly are delusional.” Atabey ran her tongue over her lips, tasting his finger in the process.

“Delusional? Perhaps I’m more perceptive than you want me to be. I am a god, sweetheart.”

Atabey, reluctantly, forced her legs closed and moved away from him. Jackson had a way with words that made her want to give her all to him. But she knew she couldn’t do that. She suddenly remembered she had a cup of water in her hand, due to its content spilling onto her from her shaky hands.

As she drinks her water, Atabey can't help but feel a surge of curiosity bubbling within her.

"Was it you who dressed me in these clothes?" she asked.

Jackson shook his head, his expression solemn. "No, it was Christopher's mate," he replied, his voice low. "She's been taking care of you while you were unconscious."

Atabey wasn’t sure if she could believe him. Her head was still spinning from her current predicament.

"Why would Aaerie take the souls of her worshippers?" she asked, her voice full of anger and pain.

Jackson's gaze darkened, a shadow passing over his features as he spoke. "Aaerie has always been jealous of any woman, human or deity, that surpasses her in beauty," he explains, his voice heavy with sorrow. "She marks them with tattoos and grooms them to believe they will lead their people into prosperity."

He paused, his eyes searching Atabey's for understanding.``I know because I've sat back and watched for millennia," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "The souls of those consumed cry out to me, which is why I had them hidden behind that mirage wall."

Atabey's heart clenched at the revelation, a sense of horror washed over her as she realized the extent of Aaerie's cruelty. "But why me?" she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

Jackson's gaze softened, a look of profound sadness in his eyes as he reached out to gently cup Atabey's cheek. "Because you are the purest soul Aaerie has ever found," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "When I saw you, I knew I couldn't bear to see how that future would unfold for you. That's why I appeared to you those months ago, I wanted to take you with me to avoid the danger that awaited you at Aaerie's temple."

Jackson could see the despair on Atabey’s face. He took the cup from her shaking hand. He cupped her face and looked her in the eyes, Atabey could see the sadness in his.

“I can never go home. My grandmother’s home…”

“I’m so sorry you found out your purpose was a lie, my love. I wish I could take the pain and confusion from you but you’re safe here with me. I will take care of you. And it is important that you do not go and talk to the spirits of your sisters alone. They are your family, but they are detached from their bodies. They are not who they once were and spirits can become malevolent. Promise me, you won’t go alone.”

Atabey thought for a moment. Could she really trust his word? She thought about her sisters’ spirits behind that wall and her heart sank.

“I promise.”

Jackson smiled warmly at Atabey.

Atabey looked into Jackson's eyes, she felt a strange pull at her chest—a sensation she can't quite explain but one that fills her with warmth and a sense of belonging. She saw it reflected in his eyes, the depth of his emotions laid bare for her to see, the way he cared deeply for her, willing to move paradise and hell to ensure her safety and happiness.

“Do you need anything, Atabey?" Jackson asked, his voice soft with concern. "Anything at all, just name it."

Atabey hesitated for a moment, her mind raced with possibilities before settling on a simple request. "I'm hungry," she admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Jackson's smile is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds as he takes her hand in his.

“You might want to put some clothes on,” Atabey giggled. Jackson looked down at his nakedness and smirked. He could see Atabey’s eyes drop down to his erection and she quickly looked away.

Jackson quickly went to his drawers and pulled out a pair of leather pants. He threw them on and made his way back to Atabey, who was looking at herself in the mirror above the bed.

“You’re beautiful, Atabey”

“Thank you. So are you.” Atabey murmured. It pulled on Jackson’s heart to hear her say that to him.

Atabey laced her arm through his, and stepped out into the hall. The silence was comforting as she followed his lead to the dining hall. The room is bathed in the warm glow of candle lit chandeliers, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows across the marble floor.

At the center of the room stood a long marble table, its surface adorned with an array of fruits and delicacies fit for a king. Atabey's eyes lit up at the sight of the peaches, her favorite fruit, nestled amongst the other offerings.

With a delighted squeal, she reaches out and grabs a peach, its juicy flesh yielding beneath her fingers as she takes a bite. The sweetness exploded on her tongue, filling her mouth with flavor as she savored every delicious morsel.

As they sat down to eat, Atabey and Jackson engaged in a long conversation, their words flowing freely as they shared stories and dreams. Atabey tells Jackson about her garden, how she loves to spend her days planting flowers and tending to the various fruits and vegetables that grow there. She speaks of her love for drawing, the way it allows her to express herself and capture the beauty of the world around her.

Jackson listens intently, his eyes shining with genuine interest as Atabey talks about her favorite things. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he feels a spark of joy ignite within him—a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there is more to life in the underworld than he ever dared to imagine. And as he looks at Atabey, her eyes alight with passion and excitement, he knows that he would do anything to keep that spark alive, to see her smile and hear her laughter echo through the halls of his lonely kingdom always.

********

Six Months Later

Atabey sinks into the warm, fragrant waters of the bathing pool, she feels the tension of the day melting away with each passing moment. The oils, scented with the sweet fragrance of peaches and the comforting warmth of vanilla, envelop her in a cocoon of relaxation, filling her senses with a sense of tranquility and calm.

Her mind drifts back to the events of the past six months—six months spent in Jackson's company. In the beginning, she had been hesitant to trust him, wary of his enigmatic charm and the air of danger that seemed to cling to him like a shadow. But as time passed and she learned more about Aaerie and her twisted nature, she found herself opening up to him, slowly but surely, allowing herself to lean on him for support and guidance.

Despite his intimidating presence and the occasional glimpses of anger that flared within him like a raging storm, Jackson had always been soft and gentle with her—his voice never rising, his touch always tender and reassuring. He had a way of making her feel safe and secure, as though nothing could harm her as long as he was by her side.

And as she reflected on their time together, Atabey found herself falling deeper and deeper under his spell, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She can't deny the pull of his charisma, the way his mere presence fills her with a sense of warmth and belonging she has never known before.

But amidst the swirling waters of the bathing pool, Atabey finds herself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—fear and desire warring within her heart as she struggles to make sense of her feelings for Jackson. She knows that he is not without his flaws, that there are parts of him that are dark and dangerous, but she can't help but be drawn to him nonetheless, captivated by the depth of his passion and the intensity of his love.

Just as she begins to lose herself in the blissful embrace of the waters, she could hear Jackson enter the other room. She could hear the rustling of paper and drawing implements in hand. He placed them gently on the bed, his movements graceful and deliberate, before turning to leave the room.

But before he can make his exit, Atabey calls out his name, the sound echoing softly through the chamber. Jackson pauses in his steps, turning to face her with a curious expression as he steps into the bathing area and leans against the wall.

Atabey looks up at him, her eyes drinking in the sight of him—his black and red color-blocked outfit contrasting sharply against the pale stone walls of the chamber, his blond hair falling in loose waves around his face. She feels a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, a playful twinkle dancing in her eyes as she leans on her arms against the edge of the bathing pool.

"Enjoying your bath, sweetheart?" Jackson asks, his voice warm and inviting as he meets her gaze.

Atabey nods, her smile widening as she basks in the warmth of his attention. Images filled her mind. "I am," she replies, her voice soft and melodious. "But it would be even better with some company."

Jackson's lips curve into a smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he meets her gaze. "Is that an invitation?" he asks, his tone teasing as he steps closer to the edge of the pool.

Atabey's heart skips a beat at the proximity of him, her pulse quickening with anticipation as she nods eagerly. "Of course," she replies, breathlessly. "I would love nothing more than to share this moment with you."

Jackson begins to remove his clothes. Atabey watches as each item of clothing hits the floor. He’s standing in front of her in all of his naked glory. He’s not erect this time but he’s still big. Atabey’s heartbeat quickens at the sight of him.

Jackson joined Atabey in the bathing pool, the warm water enveloping them both in a soothing embrace, sending ripples of relaxation coursing through their bodies. Atabey felt a sense of contentment wash over her as Jackson settled beside her, his presence like a comforting anchor amidst the swirling waters.

With a gentle touch, Jackson took Atabey's feet in his hands, his fingers working magic as he began to massage away the tension of the day. Atabey sighed with pleasure, closing her eyes as she surrendered to the sensation, her muscles melting beneath Jackson's skilled touch.

“In the depths of the underworld, where shadows reign,

I found a light that banished all my pain.

With every breath, with every beat of my heart,

I knew that you were mine, right from the start.

In your arms, I've found my sanctuary,

A love so true, it's beyond ordinary.

With every touch, with every whispered vow,

I know that I need you, here and now.

So let me hold you close, never let you go,

Together, we'll face whatever storms may blow.

For in your love, I've found my home,

Forever and always, you'll never be alone

Oh, Atabey, my love, my heart's desire,

You set my soul on fire.

I need you more than words can say,

Forever and always, in every way.”

“That song is beautiful Jackson” Atabey sighed, his husky voice sending a shiver through her, despite the water being warm.

“As beautiful as my inspiration.” Jackson looked at her adoringly.

As they relax in the warmth of the bathing pool, conversation flows easily between them, the intimate setting fostering a sense of closeness and connection. Atabey can't help but feel a sense of curiosity tugging at her mind as she considers the question that has been lingering on her lips.

"Where do you usually sleep, Jackson?" she asked, her voice soft and curious.

Jackson's expression softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he meets her gaze. "I have another room not far from here," he replied, his voice gentle and reassuring. "It's nothing compared to this one, but it suits my needs just fine."

Atabey nods, a thoughtful expression crossed her features as she considered his words. And then, with a suddenness that surprises even her, she finds herself blurting out the question that has been weighing on her mind.

"Would you like to join me in sleeping in your bed tonight?"

Jackson's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected invitation, his lips curving into a smile as he met Atabey's gaze. "I would enjoy that," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

With a sense of excitement fluttering in her chest, Atabey leans in closer to Jackson, her heart racing with anticipation as she looks forward to spending the night in his arms, the warmth of their shared connection filling her with a sense of belonging and comfort she has never known before.

**********

Atabey reclined in Jackson's bed, she felt a sense of tranquility wash over her, the soft silk of the sheets caressed her skin like a lover's touch. The room is bathed in the warm glow of tall red candles, their flickering flames casted dancing shadows across the walls and ceiling, creating an atmosphere that is both intimate and seductive.

When Jackson enters the room with a tray of wine, strawberries, and peaches, Atabey's breath catches in her throat at the sight of him. His leather pants were tight on his thigh. They were untied at the waist, giving her a peak of his flesh. He decided to go shirtless, his beautiful chest and abs on display.

His presence filled the room with a magnetic energy, drawing her gaze to him like a moth to a flame.

Jackson also takes in the sight of Atabey. Her red silk robe clinging to her curves in all the right places. The slit in the fabric is high, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs, and Jackson feels a surge of desire course through him at the sight.

With a graceful flourish, Jackson places the tray on the table beside the bed and passes Atabey a glass of wine. She takes it with a grateful smile, her fingers brushing against his as she accepts the glass.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly.

As she takes a sip of the wine, Atabey is enveloped in its rich, deep cherry flavor, the taste filling her mouth with a sense of warmth and decadence. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation as it danced across her tongue, her senses heightened by the intoxicating aroma of the candles and the heady presence of Jackson beside her.

Atabey placed her glass back on the table and beckoned Jackson closer to her with her finger. He obliged, knees falling onto the bed, his hand following behind, slowly he crawled toward her. They stare at one another, the air between them crackles with tension, the space filled with a palpable sense of lust and desire.

They have shared countless moments together, but this one feels different, charged with an electric energy that seems to hum in the air around them.

Jackson's gaze is intense, his dark eyes burned with a hunger that mirrored her own. He reached out a hand, cupping Atabey's cheek in his palm with a gentleness that belied the intensity of his emotions.

He closed the distance between them, his lips met hers in a kiss that sent sparks flying through her veins.

Atabey's breath catches in her throat at the sensation, her entire body came alive with a rush of heat and longing. His lips are warm and soft against hers, moving with a rhythm that is both tender and passionate, as though they have been waiting for this moment their entire lives.

“Atabey,” Jackson whimpered against her lips, “I need you.”

Jackson’s hands went to the ties of her robe. One pull of the fabric and it was falling away from her body. She was so beautiful naked. Ths moles that adorned her skin around her breasts were stunning. Jackson wanted his hands on her everywhere at once. His fingers traced the gold tattoos of her skin, and as he did—they slowly turned crimson.

Atabey looked up in the mirror and at her body in awe.

“They’re turning red again” She whispered.

“Yes. It’s a sign of your devotion changing from Aaerie to me.” Jackson explained.

Atabey looked back at Jackson and placed her hand around the back of his neck. She pulled him back toward her and kissed him hard, catching him off guard. Her hands pulled at his leather pants, nearly ripping them off of his body.

Jackson was surprised by her boldness, but he didn’t want to push her too much.

“Baby,” Jackson said, hardly getting the word out between her kisses, “I want you to take control tonight.”

“Hmmm?” Atabey was barely listening as she wrapped her legs tight around his waist and her pelvis was raised up and down, pushing against his hardened length..

“It’s you tonight.” Jackson said, sitting back on his knees.

“Me? But..why?” Atabey asked breathlessly.

“Sweetheart, I know that when you devoted your life to her that meant you remained pure. You haven’t known any man and as much as I’d like to claim your body on every surface in this room, I want your first time to be comfortable. I want you to know that I will only do whatever you allow me to.”

Atabey’s mind ran wild at his words.

White-hot and consuming. Bodies, naked and grinding against one another. Hands on her hips as he’s between her lush thighs. She wanted all of him, all at once.

Jackson moved so that he was laying on his back, in the center of the bed, and she was on top of him, sitting on my hips.

“My hands will stay right here” he informed her, holding onto the ornate headboard, “You are in control, my love. My body is yours to do as you wish. Do anything you’d like to me.”

Jackson closed his eyes, a pleasant smile on his lips as he waited for Atabey’s touch.

She moved over for a second, but didn’t get off him.

Jackson peeked at her and she had the red silk tie of her robe in hand. Smiling, she leaned down and kissed him gently. Atabey then laid the tie over his eyes, not tying it behind his head, just letting it sit there, hiding her from his view.

“I love this so far.” Jackson smiled dreamily.

“Ka-Yee, God of the Underworld. You are powerful and intimidating but you are also beautiful and thoughtful. While my tattoos are changing, showing my devotion to you, tonight…you belong to me. You are to devote every part of your being to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes sweetheart,” Jackson sighed. Jackson couldn’t describe the feeling of her using his other name. She had never used it since he introduced himself to her, but this let him know that she was truly devoted to him.

He could feel her crawl up his chest and then her legs were on both sides of his head. Her honey scent clouded his mind. He could feel the warmth emanating from her, making him salivate. He flicked his tongue out, in hopes of catching a taste but she wasn’t close enough.

“Atabey, sweetheart..Please, I need to taste you”

“I…I don’t,-”

“It’s okay love, just sit down. I’ll do all the work”

Atabey hesitated before slightly lowering herself down. Jackson could feel her getting closer but not close enough.

“It’s fine, baby. A little lower, let me taste you baby.”

Atabey lowered herself onto Jackson’s face. His tongue immediately pushed between her slick folds. Jackson hummed in delight as he lapped at her juices. She became wetter as he continued to lick and suck at her. He took her sensitive bud, gently, between his teeth.

Atabey sighed at the unfamiliar feeling. She had never felt like this before. No man has ever touched her and she never touched herself. Jackson was the only man to do this to her and she was enjoying every minute of it.

Atabey screamed out loud, staring blankly at the mirror above the bed, as Jackson’s lush lips covered her clit. He moved his tongue over it. Side to side, then up and down…then in circles, wet, hot circles.

His tongue, his lips, his teeth. He used them all.

He could feel her legs beginning to tremble.

Jackson encouraged Atabey to release for him. He wanted to drink every drop of her sweet nectar. Atabey’s cries of pleasure reverberated off the walls. That only encouraged Jackson to push her to the edge again. He wanted all that she could give him and more.

“That’s it baby. Come for me baby. Let it go”

Atabey’s hands gripped the headboard. She could hardly hold herself up. This feeling was intense. She cried as she released onto his face, her legs locking around his head. Jackson pushed his tongue further inside of her, relishing in whatever remained.

“Jackson, please please please” Atabey chanted over and over.

“Please what baby? Tell me what you want”

“I want you. I want you so bad”

“Then have me baby. I’m yours”

Atabey scooted back, that way she was hovering over his dick that was standing straight up.

“Jackson, I’m going to need your help. I’ve never done this.”

“It’s okay baby. I’ll teach you. May I have my eyes?”

Atabey removed the tie from his face. Jackson looked up at her and smiled. Her face was flushed from her orgasm. The robe she was wearing had joined his pants on the floor. Jackson was entranced by the view of her naked body. The now red tattoos glimmered in the candlelight of the room.

“You are so beautiful, Atabey.”

“Thank you”

Atabey felt her face heat up as Jackson’s eyes raked over her body. At one time, the idea of being with a man would have sent Atabey straight to Aaerie’s temple. This time, her body was singing and rejoicing.

“Close your eyes”

Atabey didn’t argue with him.

“I want you to imagine me behind you. Imagine my fingers gently caressing your skin.”

Atabey could feel phantom hands on her body. The feeling sent a rush of heat through her body.

“Now, imagine me gently pushing you forward. You’re on your hands and knees for me. I’m spreading your wet lips open again, sliding my fingers between your wet folds. Can you feel me baby?”

“Yes, yes I feel you”

“Good. I want you to touch yourself baby. Slide your fingers in, nice and slow”

Atabey obeyed. Even though he said she would be in control, he didn’t have a problem letting him take the reins.

“That’s it baby. Just like that. Keep those fingers going”

Atabey slowly pumped her fingers in and out. This was all new to her but it was exciting. Jackson ignited something in her that she never knew could be lit.

“Lean forward for me baby” Again, Atabey obliged.

Jackson lifted himself up on his elbows. He took one of her nipples into her mouth. Atabey whimpered at the feeling of his hot mouth, once again, on her body. The combination of her fingers and his mouth sent shocks through her body.

“You taste so sweet, my love. Are you ready for me to be inside of you?”

“I am”

“Good, I’m going to use my hands for a moment.”

Jackson grabbed Atabey’s wrist and slowly pulled her fingers out of her. He put them to his lips, kissing them before taking them in his mouth. He moaned at her sweet taste. He gently grabbed on to her waist and slid her down to his hardened shaft. He lifted her up so that she was directly over him.

“Take me in your hands, sweetheart.”

Jackson hissed as Atabey’s soft hands wrapped around him. He felt like he could come right then and there.

“Lower yourself on to me, baby”

Jackson bit down on his lip as he felt his tip brush against Atabey’s slick folds. She was so wet for him, he couldn’t wait to be inside her. He slowly raised his hips to slip inside of her more. He watched her face contort in discomfort.

“Take your time, baby. I’m right here.”

Atabey began to lower herself more onto him more. He was big and this was new to her. He stretched her but it made her feel wonderful. She was beginning to feel alive.

Jackson kept his hands planted onto her waist and planted his feet on the bed. He slowly raised his hips to meet hers. Atabey gasped at the sudden feeling. This was better than sitting in the sun. This was better than her grandmother’s garden.

To think, she would’ve missed this feeling if he had not taken her. She was glad he did.

Atabey anchored her hands on his chest as he picked up his pace. He grunted as his shaft pumped into her tight walls. She was warm and wet. It was nothing like Jackson had ever dreamed before. His nerves were sparking with renewed life. It was sheer bliss.

“That’s it, baby. Take me. You’re doing so good for me.”

Her body slammed up and down.

She panted his name over and over again, “Ka-Yee, Ka-Yee, Ka-Yee” She couldn’t say it enough. It was etched into every cell in her body. “Ka-Yee….Jackson”

“Kiss me,” Jackson growled.

She meshed her mouth against his, his hand holding her by the back of her neck. She gasped in pleasure and he swallowed the sound. Fast and hard, his tongue sparred with her as she rode him.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Show me how much you love having me inside you. Show me, baby” Jackson growled.

Atabey couldn’t hold back. Her orgasm clouded her vision. She threw back her head in pleasure, with the tightening of her stomach. Her nails dug into the flesh of his chest, making him hiss. Jackson could feel her leaking onto him like a waterfall. His hips and pelvis were soaked from her orgasm.

He reared into her at an incredible pace, chasing his own orgasm.

“Oh, fuck baby. I love you, I adore you.” Jackson whimpered.

The sound of their skin pounding against one another, bounced off of the walls. His feet dug into the mattress of his bed as he continued to sink into her. His orgasm made his hips stutter, as he pushed his seed into her womb.

Atabey collapsed onto his chest. She was breathless, but also full of life. She could see that her tattoos were now completely red. She was pulled into his orbit and she didn’t want to leave. Jackson traced circles on her back as the two of them caught their breath.

“Mine, baby. You’re mine forever.”

“Yours, Ka-Yee. Yours”

********************

Atabey’s eyes slowly opened. She hadn’t realized that she had fallen asleep. She patted the spot on the bed next to her to see that Jackson was not there. Atabey sat up, her body sore from the night before.

She grabbed her robe from the floor and put it on. She was used to not seeing other people around, but on the off chance someone else was there-she wanted to be covered. She stepped outside of the room, looking around the empty halls. It was quiet. She wondered where Jackson was.

She decided to look for him. And since this castle was going to be her new home, she figured she may as well explore it anyway. She walked down the halls, making random turns in the labyrinth. She figured there had to be a method to find your way around here. Her hands glided across the jeweled walls. The topaz and aquamarine glimmering in the candle light.

She passed by an opening in the hall that looked familiar to her. She then remembered it was where the souls of her fallen sisters were. She bit down on her lip and looked over her shoulder.

Still, no one was around.

Jackson wouldn’t be upset with her for paying her respects, right?

Atabey wandered down the hall and approached the solid rocks. She placed her hands on each one until she found the right one to open up the room, where her sisters were.

The spirits turned to face her. The sadness in their eyes were evident.

“Hello, my sisters. I hope you can understand me. I am sorry about what happened to you. I, too, thought Aaerie was a benevolent goddess, but to hear that she took your souls and then condemned you to The Underworld, is so heartbreaking. But I want you to know that I won’t be going back to ascend. I’ll be here with Jackson and with you. Maybe one day, I can understand you and then we can talk more and I can learn from you.”

One of the spirits approached Atabey and held out her hand. She placed it onto Atabey’s cheek. Atabey was surprised she could feel it but welcomed the gentle touch.

I can understand you.

Atabey’s eyes widened.

“That’s great. Maybe I can understand you now because I devoted myself to Jackson and my tattoos are red now”

The spirit stepped away from Atabey, horror in her eyes.

You what?!

The other spirits surrounded her now. Looks of sadness, anger, and horror on their faces.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Atabey was confused. If Aaerie was the one to wrong them, why were they upset about Jackson.

You devoted yourself to that monster. You couldn’t understand us because he was changing our language. We were trying to warn you sister. Another spirit spoke up.

“Monster?I don’t understand. Jackson told me that Aaerie was the one who stole your souls and sent you down here.”

No, sister. Jackson stole us from Aaerie. He has been stealing Chosen Daughters for millennia. And when you don’t devote yourself to him, he traps your soul here forever. Sister, you have cursed yourself.

Atabey’s head began to hurt. Cursed herself? No. She couldn’t have. Jackson wouldn’t do that. He said that he loved her.

“No, that cannot be true. Jackson loves me.”

Jackson loves no one.

“Sweetheart?”

Atabey looked over her shoulder.

She swallowed hard as Jackson approached, a dark cloud seemed to settle over his features, his brows furrowed in frustration and anger.

"Atabey, what are you doing?" Jackson's voice was sharp with anger, his eyes flashed with intensity as he confronted her. "I warned you about the dangers of meddling with the spirits. Do you not realize the peril you place yourself in?"

“They just told me that you stole them from Aaerie and trapped their souls down here because they wouldn’t devote themselves to you. And that when I devoted myself to you, I cursed myself. Tell me that’s not true. Please, tell me it’s not true”

“Sweetheart, they are lying to you. I would never-”

Lies, Ka-Yee! You have stolen another Chosen Daughter. You have cursed her soul for eternity. You are ev-

The spirit’s words were cut off by a gulf of flames consuming her. Her screams echoed in the room. One by one, the souls of her sisters caught alight. Their pain chilling Atabey to the bone.

Jackson's eyes blazed with fury, his features contorted into a mask of rage. His jaw clenched tightly, muscles tensing beneath the surface of his skin as his brows furrowed in a deep scowl. The lines of his face, usually smooth and composed, now twisted into a snarl of anger, every line etched with the intensity of his emotions.

His lips, usually soft and inviting, were now pressed into a thin line, a stark contrast to the simmering fire in his eyes. A vein pulsed angrily at his temple, throbbing with the force of his rage as he struggled to contain the storm brewing within him.

His nostrils flared with each sharp intake of breath, the sound a low growl of frustration escaping his lips.

Atabey had not seen him this way since she was first brought here.

He looked over to Atabey, flames in his eyes. He quickly approached her but she moved away from him, him only catching her robe-tearing it from her body. Atabey ran into the stone maze of the hallways. She didn’t know where she was going but she knew she had to get away. Maybe she could find the door to the Red Desert and escape. That sandy hell would be better than staying here with Jackson.

Atabey was thrown off balance by the ground in front of her opening. She fell to the floor, scooting back as far as she could from the pit in front of her. Flames erupted from the ground as Jackson pulled himself through the pit.

As Atabey's gaze met Jackson's, she was suddenly overcome by a wave of terror that threatened to paralyze her. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now seemed to glint with a malevolent gleam, cold and empty as they bore into her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

His features, usually handsome and alluring, were twisted into a grotesque mask of menace, every line etched with a predatory hunger that made her blood run cold. His lips, usually soft and inviting, were now pulled back into a snarl, revealing the glint of sharpened teeth that seemed to glisten in the dim light.

A dark shadow seemed to hang over him, casting his face into deep relief and accentuating the menacing aura that surrounded him. His nostrils flared with each ragged breath, the sound a low, guttural growl that echoed ominously in the air.

But it was his expression that truly terrified her—a look of pure, unadulterated malice that seemed to pierce through her very soul, stripped away the facade of safety and left her feeling exposed and vulnerable in its wake.

As Jackson's hand closed around Atabey's ankle, she was suddenly overwhelmed by a searing sensation that felt like flames licking at her skin. The touch, once filled with warmth and tenderness, now sent waves of agony rippling through her body, every nerve ablaze with fiery torment.

It was as if his touch had transformed into something sinister and malevolent, a cruel mockery of the intimacy they had shared just hours before. Where once she had felt safe and protected in his embrace, now she was consumed by a burning pain that seemed to radiate from his touch like a scorching inferno.

Atabey gasped in shock as the heat seared through her flesh, her skin blistering beneath his grasp. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a relentless onslaught of agony that left her feeling helpless and vulnerable in its wake.

But even as she cried out in pain, there was something else lurking beneath the surface—a sense of betrayal and betrayal that cut deeper than any physical wound. To feel such agony at the hands of the one she had trusted implicitly was a bitter pill to swallow, a harsh reminder of the darkness that lurked within even the most seemingly benign of beings.

And as Atabey writhed in agony, she couldn't help but wonder how she had been so blind to the true nature of him. In that moment, she realized that the warmth she had felt in his embrace had been nothing more than a cruel illusion—a fleeting glimpse of a happiness that was never meant to last.

“Jackson, please. Let me go. Please, please, please.”

Jackson's laughter echoed through the chamber, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Atabey's spine. It was a laugh devoid of warmth or mirth, a sinister melody that filled the air with a sense of foreboding and dread.

It was a laughter that spoke of dark intentions and hidden malice, a taunting reminder of the danger that lurked behind Jackson's enigmatic facade.

“My sweet Atabey, I told you that you are mine forever. I will never let you go.”

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