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hollyhomburg · 22 days

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Before I Leave You (Pt.69)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The pack meet with moonbyul to discuss terms.

Tags: Violence, Angst with the happy ending on the horizon, fluff if you squint, Yoongi gets really really angry and kinda triggers the m/c, allusions to past abuse, Blood, manipulative behavior, murderous tendencies, trans! tae, Transphobia, Trans! moonbyul,

W/c: 11.5k

A/n: wow something went heavily wrong with the formatting while i was editing this! if you notice any extra lines or weird breaks (especially on mobile) i tried my best! not sure what went wrong but i might just have to physically re-type this chapter again.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

I’ll let you in on a little secret:

In every other version of this story, Hobi doesn’t get to the door in time.

In every other version, the doors would close and Hoseok would hit them with his fists and yell. Screaming himself bloody and hoarse in the futility of it all. Watching as his future with you melts away at his fingertips like ocean foam, slipping away into the sea like a piece of clear sea glass, disappearing into the deep. They’d miss you at the next station and the one after that too.

In every other version of reality, in every parallel universe, he's too late to save you.

But in this one, he gets his pinky finger between the doors just before they slam shut.

The safety feature that keeps the train from closing on any late passengers shoots open with a hiss of compressed air. It's only open for a split second but Hoseok shoves himself through the 8-inch gap and into the warm interior of the train. Jungkook is left on the other side, banging on the door, running to keep up with the car as it thuds and lurches and starts to speed up.

"Next station" Jungkook’s mouth forms the words but Hoseok doesn't hear him say it over the roar of the train. There’s only a few seconds of them staring at each other. Jungkook’s messy hair flops as he runs. The wetness on his cheeks from frustrated tears glistening in the yellow sunlight before Jungkook runs out of the platform and is left standing there at the edge. Hoseok hurdles on.

Hoseok’s blood is roaring in his ears. He puts his hands on his knees and pants. The thudding momentum of the train makes Hoseok fall over, either that or it's from lack of oxygen. One second he's looking at JK and then next he's sprawled on the dirty linoleum floor before he pulls himself upright.

His throat feels like it’s still swelling a little. He puts his hands there, trying to steady himself. Black spots dance in his vision and he catches himself for a second time on the metal rail as the train rolls and jostles.

When he coughs, there’s dark blood in the palm of his hands. Hoseok wipes it on his pajama pants and starts looking.

He knows he must look like something horrific because an old woman in the first priority row looks at him with a crinkle of concern twisting her face. “Are you alright son?” She asks, voice squeaky.

“Yeah, just a rough morning” he grabs the back of her seat as he sways, steading himself for just a second before he uses the headrest of the seat to pull himself back down the train.

Hobi combs through the train cars slowly, betting that you'll be close to the end. He takes the longer route first, better to go down to the end and work his way back up in case you're in the first three cars, just in case you decide to get off at the next station.

He searches and searches until the fear starts to take hold in his stomach, nausea or maybe it’s just motion sickness.

He draws a bit of attention as he moves. Mostly from adults, the little unpresented pups that jump back and forth between the seats without a care in the world don’t find the bruises on his neck anything out of the ordinary. But an omega pulls his pups into his lap at Hoseok's approach. Hoseok is too sick with worry to pay them any mind.

But Hoseok doesn't need to worry, because he finds you on the fifth train car.

The blue sticky vinyl seats are full of all sorts of people; A stuffy alpha in a suit and a pair of bright yellow headphones. A small elderly omega woman with a big bushel of frizzy hair and about 10 tote bags to her name muddles through her morning commute. Two freshly presented teenagers with patched-up jackets, punky and honest in their aesthetic.

But there- at the end of the car where the booth seats facing each other turn into single rows all facing the same direction. Folded into the window a figure in dark clothes hunched over trying to look as small as possible. Trying to disappear.

Trying to hide.

Anyone would be able to scent the clear and clary smell of distress and loneliness on the air. It’s the same scent that soaks Namjoon’s hospital- noxious and pungent. It hits Hoseok with such a visceral wave that he almost falls over again.

You’re wearing his sweatshirt and Yoongi’s jacket. The hood drawn up over your head to hide your sob blotchy face from the strangers. Sniffling as you look out the window. He sees you wipe your eyes. You don't look up at all. You don't even notice Hobi approaching until he's slipping into the seat next to you and sliding his hand to lace through yours. His knuckle, your knuckle, then his.

You startle. Predictably- your fear response has always been a little bit over the top. You flinch, whirling, starting when you see it’s him. Jerking your hand out of his on instinct and nearly backing yourself into the window. Getting yourself as far away from him on the narrow seat as possible.

He wants to yell at you, he wants to shout at how stupid you are for leaving something good. (Don’t you know how rare good is for people like us? Don’t you want to hold onto it?) All of the shit with his ex- with Moonbyul seems impossible- but you sacrificing yourself for others is not hard for Hobi to believe. That part of this is so painfully logical and so painfully you that if Hobi were less scared right now he might start crying.

You've always thought you were less valuable, less necessary, less loved by the pack. The last one in is the first one out. Hoseok knows you think this because he used to think that way too.

He wants to yell at you but instead his voice comes out soft, the way that the others used to talk to you back when you didn’t speak. Like he's comforting a startled animal. You are a startled animal.

"You used the train ticket" He swallows. It stings. Hurts like a bitch really. Every time he speaks it hurts. "I never thought you'd use it."

Hoseok puts his hand on the seat in front of you blocking you as you try and get up and out of your seat. Moving automatically to get away- to get safe. That might be all that you know how to do- keep yourself safe.

You stand there for a second, in stalemate. Blood drains from your face, and you stare each other down as Hoseok goes from devastated to angry and then sad again. Struggling not to cry. Hoseok doesn’t like to cry- it’s too much like begging. His body asking for what he can’t.

It’s quiet, you have to be quiet here. There aren’t too many people but a few rows in front of you is a pair of alpha's in suits with briefcases. Unseemly eyes could be hidden everywhere so you need to be quiet. Hoseok's voice is quiet anyway. He still can’t speak much above a whisper.

No quicker have you startled than you start to push at him, at his shoulders. Literally trying to push him out of the chair. Shaking your head. "You can't be here Hobi you have to go, they'll kill you-" You start to pull him up to his feet but he makes himself a lead weight.

“No- no I’m not going to let you go.” Hoseok cups your cheek, long fingers rubbing your tears away. The pads of his fingers cradling your cheek. Soft skin, your cheeks have always been so soft. Hobi’s brain gets caught on the sensation.

"This is how this is going to work; we're going to get off at the train station- and then with any luck- Yoongi and Jimin and Jungkook will already be there and we're going to go home, okay?" He tilts his face, trying to get a better look under your hood, lower lip wobbling, voice breaking, “You have to come home with me, okay?”

You’re trembling so hard that Hobi can feel it as he holds your face, shaking your head stubbornly.

"Hobi, if I don't go. Jimin’s going to die, you're going to die, Jin’s going to die. I can't not do something. Don't pretend one life outweighs three."

"I can't let you go."

You lean into his hand. Has Hoseok ever cupped your cheek before or is the first time he's touched you this way? He can't remember. There are so many firsts that he can't remember. So many firsts that haven't happened yet. Slipping through his fingers like water.

"And I can't let you die."

Hoseok holds your cheeks, thumbs skimming up and down your cheekbones, a little more hollow than usual. These last few days have stretched all of you thin and honest. The truth does not feed you, like subsiding off of air. This truth is not one that he wants to share but-

Yoongi had looked a little shocked when he’d told him, that kind of shock that sort of feels vindicating- like you matter. Hoseok doesn't understand why Moonbyul being his ex matters. But Yoongi's reaction makes him think it is.

The light fills the train car honey golden slipping away to the clean brightness of a winter day. The light flashing through the trees like some sort of strobe light, flickering across both of you here- at the back of the train where there is no one to overhear.

Hoseok pulls himself closer to you, his lips brushing your ear. "I never told you- the name of my old pack omega but I think you know her.”

The train hisses and shrieks and your hand settles over Hoseok’s bruised wrist.

“I think you know her very very well because Yoongi said you do."

Hoseok pulls you flush against him, across the seat, your foot hitting his ankle, and whispers it into your ear.

"Her name was Moon Byul-yi."

You freeze in his hold, trembling, and he pulls away to watch the visceral realization dawn on your face. You're smart. The Moonbyul he knew would have never thought to anticipate that either of you was smart. Haughty and superior to the last inch. She’d have assumed that she had the upper hand like all narcissists do. Why would prey know anything about the hunt?

You panic, your conviction is slipping away, Hoseok can see you’re struggling to hold onto it. “Hoseok- you don’t understand, I have to do this, I need to.”

He takes your hand in his. “Okay- if you want to go then I’m coming with you.”

“Hoseok.”

He shakes his head and brings the back of your hand up to his mouth to run his lips along your knuckles. Gripping it tight. Your bones and his bones all aligned, the sunburn on the back of his hands that’s always sort of there from driving and the faint scars that line your hands from cooking. Both self-inflicted and accidental.

(Love is that way too, either something that you seek out or something that happens to you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to Hoseok, you could never be the worst).

There is one scar at the bottom of your hand and the bottom of his; a line across his right palm and a line across your left one- both gotten the night that you tried to take the train. You didn’t take the train then but you’ve taken it now.

You’ve made your choice and Hoseok makes his. “Either together or not at all.”

Hoseok rationalizes it by thinking- If you were going back to Geumjae and if he was still alive, you’d never let him walk into his clutches. You would never let Geumjae lay a hand on him, so he won’t let you go to her. Will do everything in his power to get you off of this fucking train.

“I’m sorry, Hobi- I’m-”

He pulls himself closer to you. Lips touching your temple just like the sunlight. Your warm thigh pressed to his warm thigh.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing to make up for. If we want to survive this then we need to do it together.” Hoseok presses a kiss to your hairline and lets it linger there. “I won't haunt you if you won't haunt me."

“You don’t understand-“

“Why? Why do you have to be the one? If you can answer me that honestly and in a way that makes sense, then I’ll let you go.” Hoseok says the words as he drags his nose across your hairline in a small scent mark. A growl rolling in his throat. His hand itching towards the back of your neck- if he were able to scruff you- he could drag you off this train with or without your say-so.

Hoseok won't do that to you unless it's absolutely necessary. He won't scruff you maliciously but honestly, he'd damn the consequences at this point. You know the risks, and yet you let his hand settle on the back of your neck. He doesn't scruff you yet.

You are on the train now, but you could get off of it. Hoseok managed to convince you once he can convince you again. You do not respond to him, but he doesn’t need you to. He continues on word vomiting out his feelings. Drenched half in panic and half in fear that if he stops talking you’ll tell him something heartbreaking. Hoseok can’t handle any more heartbreak today.

"I know you’ve been in a lot of pain. I’ve known it since the first day I met you. But this self-sabotage- sacrificing yourself because you think your life isn't worth risking the rest of ours- this isn’t the way to do it. This isn’t the way that you get out.”

This is the question that you’ve been asking the whole time he’s known you. All of this is just trying to get out of the holes that you dig for yourself. The graves that you haunt. Graves of things that might have been and the things that should or shouldn’t have happened to you.

Your voice is so small and quiet, your palm in his tightens just a little bit. “How do I? How do I get out?”

"You can start by just getting off this fucking train."

You eye him like you think it’s impossible like it can’t possibly be that easy.

The announcer overhead is telling you you’re almost to the next stop. To mind the gap and such. The same way people mind children and precious objects. Mind the gap. Such a strange turn of phrase. How do you treasure the space between one motion ending and the other beginning? The end of one place and time and the beginning of another.

“How do I do it? How do I-”

Hoseok laces his hand with yours again and pulls you up onto your feet. The train is slowing. “I’ll show you just- follow me. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

You do follow Hobi, you follow Hobi off the train as he coxes you softly onto the platform and onto the frosty tracks. It’s mid morning by now and the sun is streaming in that bright yellow way when he tugs you up the stairs slow. Slow because he still has to. His body aches from yesterday. Both of you are bruised and tired but together. Clinging to each other- his hand and your hand and not a breath of space between.

In the parking lot, there is a red car double parked across the lines closest to the stairs. Jimin and Yoongi and Jungkook are already standing outside, the doors blown open. Jimin falls into a squat the second he sees you. Head in his hands. Running through his hair and tugging. A cigarette discarded on the concrete bouncing before it rolls to a stop and burns.

“Oh thank fucking god, Tae would have fucking killed me-”

Jungkook groans and rests his head on the hood of the car, hitting it with an open-palmed slap. It echoes in the empty parking lot.

"That sentence is substantially less funny today than it would have been yesterday.”

Yoongi is just staring at you fists and shoulders tight. You watch him swell the closer that you walk. Every step made in trepidation. He's breathing heavy, eyes wild with panic and anger and his hair stands on end. His eyes are bloodshot and his scent is almost acidly salty. The kind of salt that guides metal to rust and break. The salt that melts cities. That crunches under your feet next to dark puddles from snowmelt.

When you're 3 paces away he seems to break, stalking up to you and jabbing a finger in your face. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again I swear I’ll-” Yoongi breaks himself off. Shaking so viscerally that it's hard for you to keep your hands by your side. but you stand your ground as Hoseok swats yoongi's jabbed finger away. his other hand tightly laced with yours.

“Yoongi, let’s just get into the car and go home- please. Let's not talk about this here.” The parking lot is mostly empty, but the danger still lingers. There’s too much to talk about. Moonbyul's name rings in Hoseok's ears like the subtle hum of hearing loss, like a high-pitched shriek. There are things more important than Yoongi's anger.

But Yoongi’s not done with you- oh- he’s boiling with rage. Shaking with it as he opens the door for you, every action, every little moment restrained. His anger is palpable. You get into the back of the Lamborghini and Hobi follows.

You can tell he wants to slam the door but doesn't. He shuts it extra extra soft but you flinch anyway. He gets into the driver's seat every moment controlled but tense, like he'll explode if he moves with any more energy than necessary, a firework with a fuse burned all the way down just begging for heat.

Yoongi waits for everyone to buckle their seat belt but you don’t, frozen watching him in the window and then the rearview mirror when he gets into the front seat. Yoongi doesn’t even get around to starting the car. Sliding the key home but the beep goes once, twice, and then a third time because you don't have your seatbelt buckled. The others wait in silence.

“Yoongi-“

“Fuck!” He kicks open his door again with a stream of spat explicatives. Slamming it shut this time. The others don't say anything, completely silent in the face of his anger.

Yoongi doesn't get angry. You've never seen him like this before. He wrenches your door open and for a horrible moment, you think he's going to yank you out of the car and tell you to get lost.

Yoongi's murmuring things to himself, so low that you almost can't make out what he's saying as he pushes himself into the backseat. The backseat of the Lambo isn’t that large. Hardly big enough to fit two people let alone four.

Jungkook lets out a belated “Hey!” at being squished up against the door but Hoseok just reaches around him and unlocks it for him to get out. Jimin is already out of the passenger seat and heading in the direction of the driver's side as Yoongi scrambles with your seat belt, jerking it over your shoulder and slamming it home.

"-Fucking asshole- of all the stupid omegas in the world I had to be mated to the fucking- dumbest- little- fucking-" The belt digs into your shoulder extra tight and Jimin starts the car wordlessly.

You're closed in on both sides by him and Hobi on the other. They switch and shuffle. Jimin pulls away from the train station, gentler this time but still faster and with more finesse than you'd do it. Yoongi is still looking at you, glaring, tears in his eyes with wet cheeks, his voice low and uncompromising.

“Give me your phone.”

“My what?”

“Your. Phone. You used it to call her didn’t you?” You nod after a second, slowly pulling it from your sweatshirt pocket and handing it over.

Yoongi takes your phone and breaks it over his thigh.

It’s a bit impressive really- the show of strength. He brings it down once and the screen breaks, winking out like a shooting star. Another and it bends just a little, a third time- and it's practically at a right angle. It breaks so easily in the face of adrenaline and anger and fear.

You make a small noise, not a whimper but a descending sound. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at you, wild. Like he’ll break even further if you complain. Hoseok’s not sure he’s ever seen Yoongi this broken.

"Just- There were pictures of Noodle and Tae on there.”

Fear and anger are an intoxicating mix to anyone- let alone someone who almost lost their person. He goes at your phone until its jagged edge bites into his hand drawing blood. Then he tosses both pieces of your phone onto the floor of the car like they're paperweights.

One of the pieces hits your shoe with a small metal clink, and even Hobi looks down in surprise at the sound.

Yoongi laughs and then bends over. Yanking the gun out of your boot. Small, shoved there. Hoseok didn’t notice. He's not sure why it surprises him- that you'd be armed. You're not an idiot, you know the risks, and you were armed the last time that you tried to run away.

He holds it out to you, long fingers wrapped around the barrel pointed at his chest. The handle facing you, the barrel of the gun level with his heart.

“You want to do the honors sweetheart?"

Jungkook’s worrying away at his lower lip, turning around, nervous. “Yoongi-" but Yoongi just holds a finger out, cutting him off. He's watching you, waiting to see what you'll do.

Jimin very gently reaches back and takes the gun from Yoongi. The beta lets him. Jimin flicks the safety off with a twitch of his thumb. And takes out the magazine one-handed that he hands to Jungkook before he puts the body of the gun barrel down in the cup holder where it rattles freely.

“Don’t fucking do that. we do not point guns at ourselves or each other in this pack.”

Yoongi hardly looks mad, he hardly reacts to Jimin at all. Jungkook's eyes flicker nervously from Jimin to Yoongi, then to Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin's flush sits on the top of his cheekbones, "Jin-hyung gets a pass obviously."

You quirk an eyebrow at your mate, not impressed in the slightest, not even intimidated truly. Hoseok doesn’t think you’ve fought since you tried to leave the first time.

“You didn’t really expect me to go unarmed, did you? Thought I could at least take one of them out- at least Moonbyul before they-” Jimin breathes hard through his teeth and Hoseok actually laughs, although he sounds a little unhinged. Yoongi runs his hands through his hair, pulling a little.

“I didn’t expect you to fucking leave me either but here we fucking are.” Yoongi has never raised his voice with you- he never raises his voice period. But anger and terror have made his words sloppy where usually they strike exact.

In the mirror, you see Jungkook’s jaw clench as Jimin accelerates home a little faster. Yoongi crowds you against Hoseok. Resting his forehead against yours, you can hear the grit in his teeth as he grinds them together nearly spitting, but it’s quiet.

“If you try something like that again, you will see a side of me that I do not want to show you. Do you understand?”

That makes you unnerved, and makes your lower lip start to tremble. Your “Yes.” Comes out so quiet that Hoseok is sure Jimin and Jungkook can't hear it in the front seat over the Lambo's purr.

You’re unable to meet his eyes, Yoongi has never been rough with you, but he’s shaking with the effort to hold himself back from screaming, yelling, crying. There are no words for you, no words that he could ever say that might hold you. He is so angry he can’t even fucking speak.

For a terrible moment, you think that he's going to hit the seat in front of you. But then he tucks your hair behind your ear out of your face so that he can look at you properly.

This is Yoongi's karma for leaving the pack all those months ago. He's come to know their pain so keenly, this was only a few hours of what they endured but still- this is exactly like that.

“You know- I’ve never wondered if you need me, but sometimes I wonder if you love me at all.”

His hand slides down your cheek, gentle in the way that he goes, and it hurts so much more than a slap or punch ever would. It stings. Everywhere Yoongi touches you stings.

“I know you don’t love me the way that I love you- I’m not that dumb, but-"

Your face screws into a whimper, and you can't whisper out that you're sorry quick enough. Yoongi guides your forehead back to rest against his. Still angry, still spitting the words like they take something from him. You should deny what he says and you want to, but you’re mute in the face of your mate's anger. "How many hours do you think will exist between your death and mine?” You’re silent as Jimin drives, but his eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. You don’t see any pity in his eyes maybe because Yoongi, like you, had nearly left them broken. Had actually left and stayed gone. Yoongi will never quite deserve pity for words like those. Yoongi directs your face away from Jimin and back to his.

“How many god damn it!” He grips your cheeks, gentle, fingers that touch so softly, that cradle you, shaking all the while.

“Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last 5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough to apologize and you don't make it easy- I don't-

"Yoongi. That is enough."

Jimin is steely. Cutting him off before Yoongi can say something that he regrets and that he doesn't mean. But Yoongi won’t continue anyway. He's crying so hard he can’t see your face, can’t even see the way that you crumple.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder for the remainder of the drive. Pushing away your hands every time you try and wrap them around him until you’re crying with how frustrated you are. Keeping that one point of contact only, his crumpled face pressed against your mating mark.

He doesn’t want your touch- the touch of someone who hurt him. This is the first time that Yoongi has denied you something so simple, something so habitual as your arms around his shoulders.

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, your words come too late. "I'm sorry, i'm so sorry Yoongi I didn't mean- please believe me- I didn't- Please i'm so sorry-"

It’s a pity isn’t it; someone always has to love the other more. This is the oldest story, and there is no other story. Karma comes just in time or not at all. But right now? Right now it does not feel nice being Yoongi’s karma for leaving the pack all those months ago.

The car ride is mostly silent for the rest of the drive. The car has barely stopped when Yoongi scrambles to get out. The car door flings open with the momentum of Jimin stopping. The hood is hot when he skims his fingers across it steadying himself to round it and dash inside.

Your hands shake too hard to unbuckle yourself as Yoongi hurries, he almost runs. Hoseok gets out of the car, shouting "Yoongi!" but your mate doesn't turn around, doesn't do anything but barrel past the others. Pushing away their worried questions and hands to get inside the house.

The bindings on your hands are already bleeding a little bit, your hands chubby and swollen, and unable to see the seat buckle as you claw at it.

A warm chest hits the side of your face as strong arms reach around you. Jungkook unbuckles you, close and filling the backseat in Yoongi's absence. He holds you for a second, giving you a squeeze and a sideways hug. "Just give him a second it’s gonna be alright."

You stare at Jungkook for a second. Wiping your tears away with a curled fist. He looks tired. “I mean you’re literally his mate so- it's not like he can really...” Jungkook trails off, and the keys jingle in Jimin's hands as he waits. mute and unreadable, staring at the steps where tae stands with Jin and Namjoon.

"Aren't you guys going to yell at me too?" Jungkook snorts, and when you pull back to look at his face, he doesn't look angry, he doesn't even look tired.

"That wouldn't solve anything." Your face crumples further, but Jungkook just starts to pull you to the edge of the leather seat to hug you better under the guise of firmly setting you on your feet.

"What I am gonna do is make you go work out with me. I'm gonna make you do like- so many burpees in punishment for making me run that early in the morning."

You laugh wetly and Jungkook giggles, nuzzling the top of your head. Gripping around your waist to pick you up just a little.

Jin looks just as puffed up as Yoongi but so much less angry, wrapped in your big blue blanket like a cape, a corner pulled over his head and ears like a hood, his fluffy bunny slippers poking out below.

The wooden planks of the deck have dried in the winter sunlight and Tae is barefoot where she stands, silk robe too thin for the winter chill. looking at you with that same hollow look she’s had for the last day.

Jin doesn’t try to grab Yoongi as he stalks past. Namjoon sends a conflicted glance at him and then at you. His shoulders are pinned up by his ears, the scraggly five o'clock shadow he wears looks tear tacky. He looks at you for a single second but then heads into the house after your mate. You blanch, but you're not surprised that Namjoon needs a second before he talks to you too.

The pervasive sound of wrenching can be heard echoing out into the porch, and a look inside says that Namjoon’s got a hand on Yoongi's back where he's bent over the sink. Throwing up nothing because your mate had hardly eaten last night- worried about you and Hobi. You've never felt more undeserving of him, the guilt hits you harder than any words ever could.

You swallow at the bottom of the steps. Hoseok and Jungkook and Jimin behind you, hand on the small of your back urging you forward gently. Willing to let you stray more than a few steps away after chasing you down.

Jin is extra tall and on the upper step, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face, he places a hand over the back of your neck scruffing you smoothly and evenly until you almost fall, knees already shaky. Jungkook steps up and grabs you before you hit the floor. But Jin just stoops. Lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“When this is over, when everyone is safe, we’re going to have a long long talk about this. About why pups don’t make decisions on their own. Give me your phone.”

You can hear Jimin’s grimace in his voice, “Yoongi already broke it.”

“Are you angry with me?” You ask lower lip wobbling, tears drifting down your nose, “Please don’t be angry with me- please-” Jin squeezes the nape of your neck again, harder. You see sparkles in your vision- your body compensating for Jin's touch even though you're so tired you feel like you might pass out. You easily submit to the scruff, you'll do anything Jin asks right now just to temper his disappointment.

Hoseok grabs under your elbows to keep you standing. Between him and Jin and Jungkook- you’re a soggy little bundle of omegas. You don’t see it, but from the railing, Tae cups Jimin’s cheek.

Jin croons. “Hush pup. Come inside where it's warm. We've got a lot to talk about- mostly what we can do besides make rash decisions like that."

Hoseok's hand is on Jin's wrist before he has a chance to continue. Eyes bright with something that looks an awful lot like hope.

"About that..." Hoseok gulps, “We think we figured out how to get out of this Jinnie. I have to talk to Yoongi about it again but-” Jin tugs Hoseok onto his other shoulder.

“I think we’ve figured a way out of this.”

You sniffle where you're tucked against Jin's chest, but you’re right next to his scent gland when it swells with pride, sweet and milky. Jin runs the back of his hand softly over Hoseok's warm cheeks, and croons.

“Good puppy.”

~-~

The next time you call Moonbyul, you’re all sitting around the dining room table. The blinds are drawn and Noodle has been fed. Jimin’s collection of guns lay on the table in several neat little rows, the barrels of them pointed in the same direction like the legs of some long-dead arachnid.

A list of demands and a dialogue are written out in front of you but they're not for you. Jin and Yoongi will be doing most of the talking. You've done nothing for the last hour it took to hatch the plan other than sit obediently at the reach of your alphas. Willing to trade little 'I'm sorries' and the barest attempt at teasing after you'd gotten up to get a glass of water and they'd all flinched. Jimin had even gotten up and out of his chair before shaking his head and sitting back down. instincts reacting to your movement before his brain caught up.

"Would it make you feel better if you put me in handcuffs?"

"Only if they're the fuzzy ones."

"Jk- now is not the time.”

All in all, Jungkook and Hobi seem to be the ones who are the least angry at you for trying to pull that stunt. Jimin's just a little more tactile with you than usual pulling you to sit close to him at the table. rubbing over your knee. Fiddling with your hands and gently avoiding the wounds there.

Namjoon still can't look at you, eyes flickering away every time you speak. Not angry- but maybe still upset- still working through his feelings.

There are more important things to work through; the plan, the facts of what you know, a list with numbers sit next to your dialogue. The facts of everything connected with arrows and different handwriting and a good bit of doodles- courtesy of Jungkook and Tae (and you- when she'd prodded).

Your list goes like this:

Moonbyul is not an alpha (verified by Hobi) (ew it's so gross to think of you with another omega hyung)

Only an alpha can rule the family. (That's a little sexist) (I didn't write the rules Tae)

LEVERAGE.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ (JK- stop doodling on official FBI documents.)

Yoongi hasn't spoken a word to you since he came inside the house and you don't expect him to right now. That’s hardly the most important matter at hand. Baby steps.

Baby steps.

You call her with Jimin’s work burner. The one he keeps in his car and uses exclusively for instructions about which murder and which target needs to be taken out. Moonbyul answers on the first ring and guesses it’s you before you even have a chance to speak. The others had unanimously decided that you wouldn't be speaking for this conversation. You don't mind sitting back for this.

Whatever makes them happy, whatever makes them feel better.

Her voice strikes a chill down your spine, now that you know that she's the one who hurt Hobi. It's her he sees behind his eyes on his worst days and it's her voice he hears when his internal monologue becomes vicious and self-shaming. You hear it differently than you did before; a cross between a snake's hiss and the purr of some dark-furred jungle cat.

“Any much longer and you’re going to be late pup, you know how impatient I can be.”

It's surprisingly difficult to not give her a piece of your mind. Your hands tighten into fists, your bones and skin all tight where you'd hurt your hands. But before your knuckles can even go white a big hand covers yours, prying your fingers apart so that your fingernails don't dig into the gauze, still bloody. You look up at Namjoon. He shakes his head, just a little, and you relax your hands.

Yoongi leans over the table so that his voice comes across clearer over the speakerphone.

“I think you’ll want to be patient for this alpha- or should I say omega.”

Hoseok holds the edge of the table hard, leaning in too. He's sure the hitch of his breath must be audible over the phone. But Moonbyul doesn't remark on it. Jin’s hand remains settled on the nape of his neck and you wish you were sitting next to him too.

Yoongi scoots himself closer to the edge of the table. On the side opposite from you. “The claws of an alpha don’t suit you, cousin.”

Moonbyul laughs and none of you smile. The tone of her voice shifts, a bit more serious. “They fit me better than they'd fit you. Let me see how deep your bite is or should I ask Hoseok? Is that pup there? How about Minnie and mommy?”

Tae folds her hands over her chest, affronted, but doesn't speak either. Your hand goes hard on Namjoon's wrist and he grips yours back just as hard. Holding out his hand for Hobi's across the table.

You open your mouth to retaliate- for the comment on Tae alone (you're not sure how Moonbyul found out about your nickname for her) but Jimin mouths across the table, “Don’t” You're all silent, waiting for her next move.

Jin's FBI training kicks in. Negotiation and kidnappings had been a course he'd been required to take during his orientation to the fbi. and his voice is measured and polite.

"I think we're past the point of petty jabs and assassin's, aren't we? Let's talk, pack omega to pack omega."

“You want to parley then? Make a deal?”

Jin drums his hands across the table. Nervous but his voice doesn't shake, not even a little bit.

“This has gone on for long enough. Let’s meet.”

~-~ Moonbyul comes in with the quiet.

The hours drag on in the space before she arrives at the house. The pack perks up in the direction of every errant sound or neighbor in your cul-de-sac. The sound of the little kids across the street leaving for Saturday morning sports, of the dull scape of someone shoveling out their driveway, the rumbling of distant cars on the highway.

It’s a Sunday, isn’t it? Strange, that this kind of thing should happen on a Sunday. Jimin stares out at the driveway, leaning against the railing, and thinks it must be some sort of punishment both wretched and divine. He smokes his cigarette, spitting the smoke out like he's burning, and shakes off the shivers of a god he doesn't believe in.

He finishes his cigarette, then he and the others and ready the house for Moonbyul’s arrival.

Hobi feels every tick of the clock like the beat of his heart knowing that she’s on her way. She’d started driving after Jimin had shown her a video of his guns being thrown into the river. A meeting without any weapons will be as safe as anyone can get.

But still- the pack isn't stupid. Hobi watches from the kitchen as Jin tapes the pack’s sharpest and largest kitchen knife under the kitchen table in front of his seat as well as Jimin’s and Yoongi’s just in case.

Allowing her inside the den goes against every instinct. To have their softest most safe place violated by the presence of someone who has hurt them like this. It's almost too much. But to have the upper hand and have this meeting on their turf is more than they’ve hoped for. So Namjoon restrains his growls, hand still held in yours at the table. After a tangle of so many hours and days of all this violence, the pack takes their chances for a way out.

You'd discussed the meeting happening at the house before you'd even called and agreed. Talked it out between the eight of you the idea location for any meet up. Only Namjoon was against it- but he's been overruled by Jin and Yoongi.

You’d remained mostly silent and agreed with Yoongi when it came to a vote. Warm big eyes on him, waiting for a hint of approval that never came. Jimin thinks that wound is going to take more than simple obedience to heal.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to think, or what to do. Jin and Jimin take over most of the planning as far as what’s going to be said and how. Everything needs to be carefully orchestrated for this to not go poorly. Everyone needs to be on their best behavior.

But there is hope here, on the edge of their scheming is a plan that might work- this might really work. You all might get out of this unscathed. Even Yoongi who’s never taken a simple breath outside of this life of murder and secrets. Who has had this violence built into his blood from the moment he was born. Yoongi was born a liar. Yoongi always thought that he'd live and die belonging to his family- at the will of their beck and call.

Now he's not so sure.

He feels like he’s hyper-aware of you, in your orbit the way an addict is always aware of how little or lot is left of a drug. Every twitch and movement of your body sets him on edge. But when you’re not watching- Yoongi watches you. Tensing with every step you take in the direction of the door, heaving a thankful sigh whenever you pass by it.

He tries not to touch you but it’s hard. He’d taken your shoes and locked them in the closet upstairs, it's silly but it's necessary.

His pulse is still beating so fast that it scares him a little. The mating mark at his hip aches with every step, he wonders if yours aches with every word or breath. Pressed there against your throat where he'd kissed countless times, where he'd nuzzled sleeplessly just last night. Breathing in your scent because it soothed him.

It still soothes him, even if he doesn't want it to.

Yoongi spends every few minutes bent over the kitchen sink or the toilet, the revulsion curling up in his gut like a snake dragging its teeth down the sides of his heart. You’d left him again, actually left him again. Yoongi wants to scream and cry but-

But there are moments of you saying you’re sorry- to Tae, to Jimin, and Jungkook- who stubbornly wraps his arms around your back like a living blanket and makes you stoop forward with his weight. Or Jimin who rubs his chin across the top of your head and jostles you with the aggressiveness of his scent mark, catching your wrists in both of his hands roughly in a way that almost- almost has Yoongi intervening. He's just clumsy and tired.

All of you are.

There are other moments of Jin lingering close, speaking to you in the soft stern way that has you deflating that makes Yoongi’s body hum in that mate way- that way that lets him know you need him.

Namjoon hasn't changed the bandages on your hands yet, even though there's a tiny bit of blood on your right one. Yoongi wants to ask him to change it out but can't make his mouth form the words.

Hobi watches you from wear he rests against the couch, pointedly not sitting on the spot that Jin cleaned of blood. Holding a bit of ice to his throat and sipping on water. Able to talk now- for real. Voice strengthening with every minute.

Yoongi pauses by his side and asks, loud enough for you to overhear "aren't you angry?" Hoseok doesn't miss the way your shoulders tense. You’re looking over things and talking with Jin and Jimin, clarifying something- some rules about the family that only you and Yoongi know of. There are documents on the table with the title FBI property- do not reproduce or take off premises.

He tips his head back against the back of the couch, Hoseok’s legs sprawled out, aching from running so hard and so fast and being so out of practice with it. Fuck- Hoseok is so tired. So anxious and so keyed up by the knowledge that Moonbyul will be here within the next hour. He yawns in Yoongi’s face without covering his mouth. His stretched lips full of teeth teeth teeth.

Yoongi feels his anger quiet even before Hoseok shrugs. "i don't know if my anger would make it better. i care more about making sure we all get to wake up tomorrow without feeling like shit"

Jungkook echoes the same sentiment on his way past. “Same like- I cannot wait to nest” And Jimin nods, blonde hair fluffing. Even namjoon's subtle agreement as he does the dishes makes yoongi feel...Not better...but maybe a little less angry.

Namjoon does the dishes, but you're his close shadow. They could wait- but Namjoon needs something to do with his hands besides holding onto yours. You still haven’t talked at all, and haven't apologized verbally to him for that phone call. He wants a wide birth and you give it to him.

Survival first- and apologies and forgiveness later.

"I think motive counts for something too," Hoseok says, looking at you across the room helping Namjoon stack dishes without being asked. "You didn't mean to hurt us when you left, but you felt like you had to." Yoongi swallows hard and feels like he's the one who's been choked in the last 48 hours.

If there’s one thing Yoongi hates, it’s how love makes you forgive. (Yoongi wouldn’t be standing in this house right now with the pack if love wasn’t this way). You could hurt me and I’d ask for it, beg for it really, as long as I’m still yours. As long as you stay.

At the beginning, the fact that Yoongi loved you more always hurt the pack, Jin especially. But watching Yoongi’s eyes follow your movements as you're asked to do some small remedial task to appease the pack, watching you do it with so much sweet eagerness. the pack find that they're thankful for it.

You say you’re sorry to anyone who will listen. And Jungkook's endless replies of "it's okay" make Yoongi's ears itch in the interim.

The moments and minutes stretch out long.

But about an hour before Moonbyul is due to arrive, in the quiet panic of making sure things are ready and just waiting, Jin tries to convince you to go upstairs for the entirety of your meeting. But as much as the pack doesn't want to admit it you might be the best at getting what you want from Moonbyul. They're prepared for you to be a little bratty about it, to push back a little regardless of the circumstances.

What they're not prepared for is Hoseok standing up in the center of the room, setting his icepack on the couch with a small crunch, before he says “I want to see her again.”

It's met with an immediate rejection, and a barrage of questions from the other alpha's, Jimin and Namjoon especially have their hackles raised. Yoongi actually checks his ears to see if they're bleeding. Jin quite literally grabs Hobi and shakes him a little. But he’s convinced that he needs too. He’s got questions for her that no one else can answer.

You had been the one person who had agreed with him. Some questions can only be answered by the person who hurt you.

Moonbyul isn’t stupid- she won’t walk into your den without a few face cards in her hands. You won’t let her come here without a card up your sleeve either. But aces are aces- a royal flush will beat 4 aces every time, and it’s up to you who wears the crown.

You watch the pack put on the air of royalty. Watch Namjoon recline at the head of the table the picture of Pack alpha ease. Scent blockers are applied to all of you liberally out of necessity. You rub it into Hobi’s scent gland yourself (You won’t let Moonbyul get a wif of him).

You watch your mate settle into his shoulders; neck held high. Putting on the same Placid but brutal he'd worn the first time you'd met him. That untouchable coldness that all members of the family wear out of necessity.

But Yoongi had never been good enough at keeping the warmth out of his eyes. Even back then.

Moonbyul comes in a black car, non-descript. She's driving herself today. No extra ears or extra packmates attached to her hip. Even Hyejin is absent and it’s strange, strange to not see her get out of the car with her.

It sets you off kilter when you peer out the window. Lingering until Yoongi comes close. Your breath hitches as his hands touch your shoulders. Urging you upstairs without a word, an unspoken heaviness in his eyes.

Regardless of what you'd agreed, now that she's here. yoongi doesn't think he can do this if you're not upstairs safe.

“But Yoongi- Hobi-“ Hobi stands by the door. If he's going to talk to her you want to be by his side. But Yoongi's scared, you can see it in his face and feel it in the mating mark.

You think you'll have a few more moments to sort this out, but Moonbyul does not knock on your door, she just lets herself in.

“Cousin!” she starts, splaying her hands like she’s about to go in for a hug but Yoongi does not smile, Yoongi does nothing but glare at her until her smile and her hands both drop.

Seeing Moonbyul again after so long does not feel like just seeing her photograph. For a second Hoseok feels cold, so so cold looking at her face. Her fair skin, her silver hair. Tunnel vision and the most dizzying mix of fear and anger and alpha posturing that he’s ever felt. His instincts yell at him, screaming in his ear that he needs to run, needs to get away.

She smells different, metallic and medicinal, different than her sweet omega peppermint smell that he remembers. It's stronger now- more musky. the scent of an alpha and not an omega. Hoseok wouldn't be able to pinpoint that it was an artificial change if he hadn't smelled the same sort of hormone shift on Tae.

He’s distantly aware that there are people in between him and her, you, Yoongi, Jimin, Namjoon, and even Jungkook who fluffs up, looking determined and like he’s about to unleash all 5 years of experience he has teaching kickboxing on her. (Tae stays at the back of the room- the soft and delicate fairy star child that she is- but even she subtly stands straighter, eyeing Moonbyul’s stiff black coat with the same air that Anna Wintour might wear while viewing a subpar fashion show).

6 feet away and every bit of his instincts is yelling at him to move, to run. His heart thunders in his ears like a battalion of racehorses. How stupid of him to think he was ready- that seeing her face after all these years wouldn’t hurt- that the fear wouldn’t be there- his breath hitches and-

She grins at him and Hoseok flinches.

In his peripheries, he sees Namjoon and Jimin start to say or do something. Hoseok had put himself- almost perfunctorily in front of you. But after a second with your hand on his wrist tightening, you put yourself between him and her. Stepping around him and Yoongi in one clean movement and blocking his face from view. Moonbyul just raises her eyebrows at you. Before anything more can happen- before any jabs or warnings can be exchanged, a grey mass skitters across the floor. As quick as a bullet and twice as violent. Out for blood and the bringer of death.

Puffed up and looking large and menacing. Noodle yowls loud, a war cry, before driving his needle-like teeth into Moonbyul's ankle and right through the leather of her Louis Vuitton boots, ripping them with a vicious toss of his neck.

“What the fuck-“

Moonbyul startles, knocking into the wall in her surprise at your cat's viciousness. She hardly wastes a breath before she kicks Noodle clear across the floor.

You gasp and Tae makes a noise. But Noodle is totally fine, He goes hissing and spluttering, and claws his way right back for more not deterred in the slightest. He leaves gash marks on the shiny floor as he aims himself, back to bite her again.

You have no doubt that he’d be headed for bloodshed and her other ankle if Yoongi didn’t scoop him up from the floor and hold him to his chest. Honestly- Noodle looks more surprised at Yoongi holding him than he does about getting kicked.

“If you touch my fucking cat again, I’ll fucking kill you." Yoongi's deadly serious. No part of him joking as he says it.

It's barely 60 seconds in and this meeting is already going to shit.

Namjoon steps up and steps around Yoongi’s shoulder shoving the beta behind him as Noodle starts to squirm in Yoongi's hold. “Please, lets just get this over with.” He tips his head and gestures to the dining room table for her to sit.

Tae takes Noodle from Yoongi’s arms. Checking his stomach. Glaring at Moonbyul who does not grin, does not smile, only tucks an errant hair behind her ear.

The sound of chair legs scraping the floor is the only sound as the 9 of you sit in silence. Noodle stays in Tae’s lap, big tail swishing as his beady yellow eyes track Moonbyul across the room. Everyone’s silent, settling. Yoongi and Jimin are the ones seated closest to Moonbyul. You and Hobi are the farthest by Namjoon on the other side.

“Well- you’re the one who wanted to talk.” But Moonbyul is not looking at Jin and Namjoon and Yoongi- she’s looking at Hoseok- who can do little but look at her through his bangs. Skin burning when she looks at it. A feeling like Hoseok wants to hide and maybe shower until his skin falls off almost overcoming him and making him run.

“I didn’t want to talk, I wanted to get you fucking flayed out on this kitchen table and-”

“Jimin.” Tae cuts him off with a snap of her teeth around his name. Her hand is on Hobi’s thigh, holding him still keeping his thigh from jumping up and down under the table.

“The time for violence is over,” Jin says sternly.

Moonbyul grins, “is it?” she drags a sharp nail over a groove in the table. A spot where a bullet or maybe a knife grazed it, probably from the last few days. You wouldn’t know where it came from even if you thought hard about it.

“Some would consider the very act of possessing something that’s mine violence and you have two things that belong to me.”

Hoseok shivers, and you narrowly avoid snapping a smart retort at her. Jimin’s fingers hover around the knife under the table. Ready to wip it out and drive it clean through her hand splayed on the table. Ready to kill her in the next second if the pack wish it. He’s half convinced he should do it before she opens her mouth because Hoseok looks like he’s going to be sick all over the table and Tae is shaking faintly.

But then Jimin looks up, meets your eyes, and takes his eyes off of his target for a second. You shake your head a little imperceptibly.

“Some would also consider lying violence as well- how well do you think that the rest of your family and organization would handle the fact that they’ve been lied too?”

Yoongi settles, tilting his head. Jin and Yoongi are a dangerous pair when they talk through things like this. “We both know that all I’d have to do is pick up a phone and you’d be dead. You and your pack. If you kill me- someone will tell and you'll die. If you touch my pack again- I'll tell and you'll die. And if even think about taking my mate from me again- if i start to sense that you've tried to manipulate her away from me in the slightest- I'll kill you my fucking self."

She turns to you, mirth toying at her lips, "I got away with killing the beta once, what makes you think I can't do it again?"

Jin smiles at her, it's an honest and genuine smile. "The truth is- you gave us too much time to think. Too much time to figure it out and plan. There's a trigger clause out there. On a computer you couldn't possibly find. If I don't log in every 36 hours, an email will be sent with pictures of her recipe book to the director of the FBI, and you'll go down for it." Moonbyul turns to you, narrowing her eyes, "You'd risk going to prison or being killed? Rather than be with me?"

You shrug. "You- prison- tomato tamato. And besides- I know enough- you made sure I knew enough to be useful to them. I'd probably land a sweet gig in witness protection."

Tae pets over noodles head, smiling at you, "We could call Noodle meatball."

Yoongi straightens, getting you back on track. "We'd also send pictures and evidence to the heads of house too; you'd have to take your pick who you'd want to deal with- them or the Feds." Moonbyul goes quiet and for the first time but you know you have her backed into a corner with this. This secret- this secret is truly her undoing. She fidgets, settling herself firmly into the uncomfortable chair.

And then it comes, her concession, “What do you want?”

Yoongi nearly lunges forward with how eager he is to outline your terms. “Release Jimin from his contract. Let Y/n go and relinquish the bullshit claim you have on her. Don’t punish Jin for working for the FBI and never contact me again for my responsibilities as a beta. Leave us alone- never touch us again and you can have your empire. We won’t say a word to anyone about your true sub-gender.” He lays his hands flat on the table. "But lay a finger on any one of my packmates and I'll tell everyone what you really are."

Moonbyul is a manipulator first and foremost, and a good one at that, you don’t know if it’s honesty or a simple tactic when she turns to Tae and appeals to her.

“You’d let them do this for what? One female alpha to the other?” Moonbyul’s eyes are too empty for her to be totally honest. Jungkook can’t stop his flinch. She knows what she’s doing. How to find the weak spots in your conviction and press at them.

“One trans person to another? You'd let them forcefully out me? don't you know how wrong that is?”

You physically can’t look at her, you have to look away- and Jimin looks like he wants to punch her, jaw rolling- preparing to spit before Tae splays her hands on the table, chipped nail polish catching the light.

Tae struggles to find the right words. “I don’t know if your reasons are the same as mine.”

Moonbyul scoffs, crossing her arms. The mask slips at the same second. “Sure they are. You chose to become a woman rather than stay a man because you liked the set of qualities your life could have as a woman better. That's no different from me choosing to be an alpha over an omega because it gave my pack and me the most security.”

You know, you know in your heart that security isn't what Moonbyul's after, it's always been power, but Tae's scent starts to leak around the scent blockers, going sour.

Tae sits back in her chair. “That’s the thing- it wasn’t a choice.”

Moonbyul’s fingernails are digging into her arms in an effort to keep her hands busy. “Was it? You were comfortable being a man once until the risks outweighed the benefits of not being honest with the people you love. That seems like a choice to me- if it wasn’t a choice- you’d never have had to tell anyone- they’d just have known.”

Moonbyul has always had a terrible knack for finding people's soft spots, Hoseok knows this, and yet he can't say anything. Can't come to Tae's defense. Can't scream at her to shut up- to not touch Tae. To not find the weakest link or perhaps a link she can exploit.

Tae’s hands tighten into a fist and she swallows, before standing up from the table. Noodle falls to the floor with a jingle of his bell collar and an offended meow. Tae leaves the room heading up the stairs and leaves you behind. Done with Moonbyul and the conversation, A choice in itself. You follow her, heading upstairs after Tae with not even a glance in Moonbyul’s direction.

Moonbyul laughs and laughs and laughs, it’s a little unhinged. The pack stays silent. They just watch her. Yoongi settles into his shoulders and when she leans back in the chair and tucks her hair behind her ear, she’s still smiling.

“Alright cousin, let’s draw up terms.”

The family does things in old ways, a smear of Yoongi’s blood and Moonbyul’s blood on the bottom of a slip of paper and their names ink signed. A red seal printed with both of their initials. Paper that Jin will burn up later because what’s written on it could condemn them all. She also writes up a release of Jimin’s contract too- this one does not get burned. While Jin types up his resignation too.

“I’d still laser off your fingerprints if I were you.” Jimin is already planning on it. He’s not too worried about the loss of income or the family possibly rolling on him and using his long history of murder to put him in jail. He still has his other job after all.

In the end, Moonbyul leaves not with a bang, but with the click of the closing door, soft as all can be. Violent with the gentleness of her actions when she gets up from the table and says goodbye to Yoongi and only Yoongi. But when she makes to leave, she has to pass by the stairs where you wait.

You do not speak from up on top of the stairs, where you’d gone after Tae and left after she told you she was fine, that she wanted to be alone for a moment. Now Moonbyul smiles from the bottom step. Her teeth catch the light like the pearls at the bottom of the ocean.

“I guess it was never going to be us, was it?” Her eyes flick to the mark on your neck and all at once you’re reminded of the feeling of it;

Geumjae’s teeth sink into your throat, the pulse of your veins around his teeth, the feeling of his tongue hitting your skin and the pain and shock of it. Her smiling feels like that. Her smiling up at you makes it feel like she’s taking something from you.

“There is something in you that’s hungry pup- hungry for more than they can give you. And when they realize that- when they realize that you’re more like me than like Tae- Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for when you decide that this is not enough.”

Your finger trails down the railing of the stairs. You don’t meet her eyes. “That’s the thing isn’t it, I do get to decide, don’t I? It's my choice.”

But Hoseok is there, between you and her, and there’s no one between the two of them. Not Noodle or the others although Yoongi gets up quick and comes over to his side. Both of you hem Hobi in.

“Wait- I just have one question for you- before you go.”

Moonbyul hovers, hand on the door. Almost out of your lives for good. You keep a hand on Hobi’s back, holding him, letting him know you’re there. You can feel the tremble in his shoulders.

“Why did you do it, why did you hurt me like that when you could have just left? I’ve thought through it for years but I’ve never been able to figure it out. Did you know that you were hurting me when you did it?”

“Yes,” there isn’t a bit of remorse in her face, none at all.

Maybe Hoseok is expecting something like this- something like this: “I thought if we broke you down, we might be able to remake you into something great”

“I didn’t need to be changed I just needed you to love me.”

But there is none of that. It’s infuriating and it will bother him for years later but what Hoseok gets is this:

“There wasn’t a reason, we were just bored and waiting for my father to give me the chance to transition.” transition into power or transition into an alpha? She doesn't clarify. She’s remorseless, nothing in her inflection indicates that she regrets what she did.

“You weren’t the first.”

Hoseok feels nauseous like he's going to be sick on the entryway floor. Hobi doesn’t respond and she leaves without a second glance behind her. Out of your lives for good. Leaving Hoseok standing there in the precipice of the door, watching her pull away from the house and staring at the empty driveway after she’s gone. He'll never see her again after today.

Namjoon gets up and opens up a window, clearing the house of her smell of peppermint.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until you dab your sleeve at his cheek. Yoongi at his front and you holding him from behind, keeping him together as he cries and cries and cries. Jimin puts himself between you two and the door, a knife that he'd tapped under the table in his hands.

Jungkook huffs. "Should have stabbed her when you had the chance Minnie."

Closure escapes him, just out of his fingers. Hoseok wants to run after her and demand an apology. But he doesn’t know what’s better, an apology that’s hollow or none at all. No one talks for a moment while they watch her car pull out of the driveway and leave. No one says a word.

And then Jin gets up from the table and walks over to the kitchen. Namjoon follows him. Tae’s at the top of the steps, she’s changed her clothes from her PJs and washed off the scent blockers. Her hair hangs shaggy and messy over her glossy face, her bangs in a curly pink roller, and her skin pearly from her skincare.

She doesn’t smell distressed or upset. She doesn’t smell like anything at all but she’s wearing her favorite pink sweater. She comes close, runs her hands through Hobi's hair.

"I'll be fine, just give me a second I just need-"

"You cry for as long as you need to ho-baby."

"Yeah- cry as much as you want, use me as a napkin for all I care." your shirt is wet at the collar where Hobi burrows in.

Jin opens up the pack's liquor cabinet. Small and just to the side of the fridge. None of them really drink- but occasionally patients give Namjoon expensive bottles of whiskey for saving their lives. Jin pours himself a full glass of the most expensive bottle of it. No ice. He pours a second glass for Yoongi without asking. It’s barely noon, but when he asks “who wants a drink?” Seven hands shoot up.

~-~

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Notes:

the very fist part of this chapter where hoseok and her are on the train was a part that i liked until final edits and then it felt??? idk??? clunky??? maybe a bit repetitive???? idk what it is and it's way too late to fix it T-T

this chapter is really an ode to what i originally thought of for bily, in the og version of this story yoongi was supposed to hate the m/c at the beginning for taking him away from the pack. i think his anger at the end is entirely justified- it's also like- his karma for leaving at the beginning you know? he might take it a bit too far in his reaction but tbh- i think we can cut him some slack for everything he's ever given to the m/c- all of the unconditional love.

i think that the train is like- a metaphor for getting better, or not getting better and keeping going on the reductive patterns that make you sick, because the things that make you feel better- like picking at a sticky scab- will only make you scar deeper. this is the last moment for the m/c, the moment she starts to heal for good.

the moment where hobi and the m/c are walking up to the car and yoongi is there i litterally see him puffing up like a studio ghibli charecter you know? or maybe like noodle whenever yoongi comes close.

honestly- the line where yoongi says that she doesn't love him like he loves her made me fucking sick when i wrote it like???? not me lowkey not giving them a happy ending. but i think that the part of bily thats always been fun to experiment with is how people sometimes people hurting you doesn't change how you feel about them.

did you catch the reasons wreched and divine refrence????

the line that yoongi says “Five? Ten? Sweetheart- I'd last ////5 minutes without you and you won't even look at me long enough too apologize and-" is very much a refrence to what hoseok says to yoongi at the begining of the series "You won’t even tell me now when I'm fucking dying over you, suffocating under the weight of things you just won’t say- and you don’t even care!” and i think thats pretty.

i think the yoongi parts will either make you guys feel vindicated or upset. i think it's up to you if he goes too far when he's angry- but i do think it's very human of him to get so angry like...the m/c is his whole fucking world...he will get over it! don't worry! he's just momentarily angry!

the part between when the pack call her and she arrifes felt really clunky while i was editing it, i decided not to take it down too much because i wanted you guys to feel some of their anticipation- but maybe it's too much. it's this kind of part that might get seriously paired down once i go back through bily and clean it up

"fuck this bitch"- noodle probably

noodle is like my favorite charecter i swear to god i love him so so much. i had the idea that he would be the only one to get some bloodletting in since the very begining of the series before he was ever written into the story. this is also the begining of them sorta being friends like- after this noodle is alot more tolerant of yoongi.

Moonbyul discloses that she has some pretty uncomfy views of being trans in this! i think it's pretty obvious that it's not meant to be like 'this is how all trans people are' and more of an effort to contrast tae- we are also talking like fake secondary genders here as well so- do with that what you will!

i also wanted to make the point with hobi and moonbyul's part at the end that sometimes the people who hurt you have no remorse, you don't get clousrure from them because they'll never admit that they shouldn't have done something. and the biggest closure that you can get is from giving yourself the strenght to let go. in a way- this directly contrasts the parts on the train in the begining. in order to heal a wound you have to stop touching it.

this chapter may feel like an ending in a sense because it is an end of all the mafia parts. truly- after this chapter we won't see any more violence or blood or anything close to the last 6. it's all happy endings from here <3 Thank you for sticking with it!

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kiestrokes · 9 months

Text

How BTS Would React to You Coming Home Drunk (and Horny) from a Night Out with Friends | NSFW

Pairing: BTS x Reader/You/Yn (some gendered + some non-gendered) Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 691ish Genre: scenario/imagine, smut, sprinklings or crack/fluff, established relationships. Warnings: mentions of drinking (consensual drunken behavior between partners), reader is wearing a dress because ease of access.

Sexually Explicit Content: penetration (penis is whatever you want to imagine: vagina/ass), cunnilingus, fellatio, nipple play, cockwarming, kissing/making out, overstiumulation, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything!

🗝️ Note: I’ll format this tomorrow. But in tradition of when this imagine was made, that’s a sober Kie problem. A repost from @/goodsoop. Edited 8/20/23 to include warnings!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted here.

KSJ: would be mildly "unapproving" of your loose behavior but would fix himself a double and quickly get on your level. Until you both were drunk, loudly playing video games on the couch of the game room. This of course escalates into you attempting to cheat by climbing into his lap. You end up getting distracted by his beautiful lips and it turns into a sloppy, laughter filled fuck on the sectional. Jin boasts that he, of course, won. In the game and in getting you off.

MYG: was asleep when you drunkenly climbed into bed, laying on top of him Jung-Hoseok-spread-eagle style. Grumbles about the fact you’re going to have a hangover tomorrow. Slips out from under you and begins to remove your clothes. Batting away your wandering hands that are attempting to climb under his shirt. He leaves you passed out on top of the covers to get water and pain reliever. Returning to your sad attempt at getting yourself off. Huffs at you to let him do it, because he secretly loves how pliable and vocal you are when he gives you head this way.

JHS: is also in bed, you strip down to your panties and climb under the covers with him. He sleepily pulls you back into him, large hands drifting down your bare body. You have no trouble rousing Hoseok for drunken foreplay, he’s already hard. But he just wants a little cock warming tonight. To feel you clench around him as he plucks your nipples between nimble fingers and drifts off into the wettest dream of his life.

KNJ: was up late reading, stands up to greet you, reading glasses still on. Catches your mouth just as you tug his face to yours. The two of you clumsily fumbling with each other across the living room. He curses as he accidentally drops you onto the coffee table. But you’re unharmed and laughing, hands already reaching to tug down his sweats. Giving him a thoroughly dedicated blow job. Until he coats your throat and is moaning at you to stop.

PJM: is waiting for you in the bedroom, watching a new drama. Waiting in his boxers for the return of handsy and affectionate you. This is the only time that you’re almost as touchy with him as he is you. You don’t even take your dress off, just drop your panties at the bedroom door. Climbing onto Jimin’s lap to kiss the lips you had been thinking about since your second drink. It’s slow and intense sex that has you both crying out from overstimulation.

KTH: is mopey of course that he couldn’t go with you and the "girls". Has a bit of a wine buzz and is dancing around the kitchen to some Leon Bridges. You slip into his waltz and Tae serenades you, spinning you around the island. Until you’re pulled into a mutual kiss like two magnets, charged by the music and alcohol pulsing through your veins. He pins you against the island with his husky, low groans. Fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, and under your panties until his fingers are coated in your essence. He swallows your cries of pleasure, murmuring quiet pleas against your lips, begging for you to take him out next time.

JJK: he of course is gaming when you get home. So you slip past him, dropping your clothes along the way to catch his attention. He grumbles to his teammates in frustration, excusing himself from the game. Running to catch up with you just as you make it to the bedroom door, nude as fuck. You squeal as he spins you around and peppers wet, open mouth, kisses from your neck to the top of your knees. Before folding you across the edge of the bed, ass bare to him. Making quick, erratic work of your orgasms. Before collapsing on top of you, his t-shirt collecting the sweat that had accumulated on your back. He abandons the game to climb into bed with you, cuddling naked.

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seacharms · 8 months

Note

Hii bestieeee!!! Could I have a "BTS reaction to when you stan skz" thxxx luvs yaaa

ok ofc... btw- IM A STARMY TOO!!!!! AHHHHH BEST FANDOM COMBO EVER! Anyway- here you go...

BTS reaction to when you're a STAY (SKZ stan)

Namjoon:

He would be a little surprised but would respect your music choice, he would even jam with you to Stray Kids' songs sometimes. OOOHHH but every time God's menu came on, he would see a side of you that he's never seen before.

Seokjin:

"Yah! Isn't my handsome face not enough?! Let's watch a BTS mv instead" He said. After making him forcefully watch an SKZ mv, he was trying not to show his enjoyment but after a few more mvs, he officially became a STAY and stole your bias.

Yoongi:

He didn't care about what you listened to or watched because he believed that everyone was allowed to have an opinion. Lowkey rapped Changbin's part in Miroh to impress you.

Hoseok:

"Wahhh baby, they dance well, especially that Lee Know guy. I should collab with them next! They're songs make me jam. Who is your bias by the way? I think I like all of them." You both watch Stray Kids practice videos all night and enjoy together. XOXO Hobi

Jimin:

Watches the dance practices and music videos with you. "Wow, they're so talented! I'm going to practice this dance, can you teach me?"

Taehyung:

"Their music is nice but it's not something I would listen to every day, they're amazing though. Their dance is outstanding, vocals are great, rap is next level, visuals are superb, maybe the only group who could try beating BTS in the talent category!"

Jungkook:

Shook. "You stan them? I'm friends with Bang Chan- if you ever wanna meet him just tell me." Legit gets you excited and starts telling you random stuff about how he likes SKZ too.

~Oki everyone... THANK YOU!!! byeee~

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blackswan446 · 5 months

Text

class president || yan!knj

❝ You are the most oblivious person I've ever met, and it's adorable. What I want from him, my love, is you. I didn't think I could be more obvious. ❞

it started as one text.

short texting au

yan!knj

cw: mentions of sexual innuendos

read this story + more on my wattpad: brownsugalatte

#yandere bts #bts #bts jhope #bangtan jhope #j hope bts #knj #kimnamjoon #yanderekimnamjoon #knj x reader #myg #jhs #kth #tannies #knj fic #wattpad #junghoseok

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kithtaehyung · 8 months

Text

mami (m) | myg/knj

title: mami (m) pairing: myg x reader(f) , knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛 rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au summary: you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date. note: heavy 00s vibes, this is just the beginning of a collection of parts instead of just a oneshot let’s fucking goooo🦋 note 2: this is pretty unedited lolll if there are mistakes i'm so so sorry! warnings for this part: language, choking, joon in sweats, bathroom s*x, b*ckshots, friendly sp*nks from your roomie🤪, it uhhh starts right out the gate lmfao, hobi in silk and a robe, yoongi is a warning in his own right, light sl*pping, you get called mamiii😗 so if that’s not ur thing i’d skip this series !!, joon is too smooth, a secret fourth guy lmfaoooo, battle rap scenarios! drop date: september 26th, 2023, 10:07pm est word count: 3.7k mood: here

“You like that, huh?”

Breath short, you can only gasp as the hands you’ve been eyeing all night clutch your throat, a fiendish hum the first response to your satisfied grin.

“Knew you would.” As your delicious captor speaks, you just know he’s fixated on your makeup—at least, the way it’s smearing onto a bathroom mirror that has seen better days. “You all do.”

Fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Fucking hell, he always knows.

Your lust condenses and slides down the glass in rivers, and with each experienced thrust inside your folds, it’s getting harder, and harder, and harder to see the man wrecking your shit.

But it’s coming. The end. The coil inside you is screaming and tightening and you know he can feel every potent pulse as you slap the tiny counter with a palm. “Yoongi—”

“You gonna come, mami?”

Yes yes yes you really fucking are. It’s so truthful that you can’t even voice your agreement in words, your moans higher and higher in pitch the only tell you can possibly give.

“Then fucking do it.”

Light bounces from your eyes and rebounds off the mirror the same time your whine does, every limb locking while bare shoulders bang against your reflection.

“Fuck.”

You spring right into the ground floor above, eyes rolling so far back you could probably see the way Yoongi’s smirking at your ass if your dumbfounded mush of a brain wasn’t in the way.

Again, and again, you milk his cock for all it’s worth, spurning him into gripping your bouncing hips with rough hands and faster strokes. Laughs and conversations seep through the door at your side, but you can’t make out a thing as you garble,

“Yoongi, please—”

“One more.”

“I can’t—”

“Don’t play dumb,” he tuts. “You won’t hustle me a second time.”

Busted.

Your pout quickly stretches into a devilish curve instead, and you hear his sound of approval before you brag,

“I spent all that already, by the way.”

Air whizzes past your ears as you’re hoisted upwards, and your mirth reverberates as you’re spun and shoved into the sink, cheap laminate bruising your back.

Yoongi must also be remembering the time your pussy sucked the soul out of him. After you both made a bet that you couldn’t beat someone’s record time making him come.

You won half of his prize money that night.

And that was the night he won the entire thing.

“You’re lucky I respect it,” he snarls, sweaty fingers gripping your chin as he slings a leg over his pelvis. When he grins, you wanna lick the white off his teeth. “And you’re lucky I made it back the next night.”

Oh, shit. Did he really?

Battle rap events usually stack so that everyone gets a chance. How did he get invited back the same weekend?

Well, other than being a monster on the mic. There’s a reason you can’t stay away from him, and you may or may not admit you get turned on by how effortlessly ruthless he is.

Lips smushed, you ask with genuine curiosity, “You won again?”

Yoongi lightly smacks your cheek, chuckling when you grit out a moan. “Nah. The sponsors loved me,” he claims, finally bringing a hand down to guide himself back inside. “So they paid me to come back.”

“Sick,” you praise through a grunt, fully catching his eyes for the first time tonight. Pushing past the way he fills you so fantastically, you huff out, “That doesn’t happen on south side.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, apparently west and east side do it a lot. Especially with that guy Randa—”

“Fuck Randa.”

Ah, so Yoongi knows him? You haven’t ventured into the west scene yet, but the one thing you know about it is that dude’s name.

So he must be a beast.

Especially if Gloss himself had some choice words.

At this little slip of emotion, you don’t hide your smirk at all. “Oh? Maybe I will if that’s how you feel.”

The sudden possessive shove of his cock into your folds is delightful, your high giggle pinging off the bathroom walls.

“Fuck whoever you want, princess,” he chides right against your lips. “You’ll always come back to me.”

“Duh.” You flick your tongue over his plush. “You wouldn’t last a week without me anyway.”

Yoongi pushes into you again, stare heavy and coaxing butterflies from your belly. “I’d manage.”

“As if.”

But even through the pleasure, you still wonder. How are you both having a regular conversation right now? This never happens with him. You’ve wanted it to, but there simply hasn’t been any talk when he’s involved.

The high from your orgasm compounds with this strange feeling that you turn a little playful.

“What I meant was…” Fingernail poking his tank, you joke with a sly curve, “Guess you must be like, good or whatever.”

When he looks down, you childishly swoop your finger up to bump his nose. “Ha. Loser.”

Predictably, Yoongi pauses before only his eyes raise, suppressed emotions hiding behind long dark strands. “Really.”

And even though you felt him twitch in your core, you’ll spare him. “I don’t make the rules.”

You think this is when he’ll start ramming into you again, because none of the times you’ve hooked up ever lasted this long. It’s always been quick with him, and never in any other place other than bathrooms or broom closets.

Which isn’t bad. Just a pattern you’ve noticed.

But Yoongi huffs in amusement before shaking his head. “Since when were you this weird?”

“Wow, rude?” Your scoff is full of mock annoyance. “I’ve always been this way.”

It’s just that no one’s taken the time to get to know you.

“But you’re so…”

All they care about is one thing.

Which, granted, is the same in your case.

It just gets a bit lonely sometimes.

Offering to finish for him to stiff arm any more incoming awkwardness, you blurt, “Hot? Slutty?”

“Fast.”

Oh.

Did you both just assume the other person wanted it over and done with?

That’s entirely possible considering the first time it happened lasted a grand total of three minutes. Max.

“I mean…” You lean back on your palms, not caring to adjust your very mussed top because your chest finally snags all of Yoongi’s attention. How he’s still hard inside of you is a complete mystery. “I don’t just fuck, you know.”

“And here I thought we were similar,” he teases, groaning through his teeth when you roll on his dick. Again.

And again.

Of course you’re both similar. The only difference is that people dub this guy a sex god and you’re an easy lay.

But you won’t get into that with him. Not now and probably not ever since you don’t dare even label Yoongi a friend.

Panting, you observe him watching your movements as you switch the subject, “You fucked that one sponsor chick for the invite, huh.”

And he takes the out hilariously quick,

“Both of them.”

Of course. Your head kicks back in laughter, remembering that there were two people running the event instead of one.

Truthfully, you would’ve paid to see that.

“Can’t stand you,” you lie, the way you chuckle as he slaps one of your tits saying otherwise.

“Good.”

As he rubs a rough thumb over a nipple, an announcement blares over deejay scratches and cheers, tugging both of your eyes to the door.

Before things quickly devolve into how they always go.

When you arch forward, his lips devour your breast; when you rock your hips into his, the groans against your chest make you feel alive.

Your nails claw through his hair before you can’t decide if you wanna rake them through his shoulders or his neck. Here, there, everywhere you can grab, you take hold.

Suddenly, Yoongi clutches the top of your skirt before thrusting in hard, and his laugh when you whine out a curse strikes your soul. “It’s better that way.”

It’s always better that way.

“Agreed,” you murmur, eyes flickering to the janky ceiling before sighing out, “I think they just said your name.”

“Mm.”

He plunges into you so hard you see his impish curve imprinted among the stars.

“Then hurry up, mami. Gimme one more for luck.”

MAMI

“Who’s on the menu tonight?”

You hum while peering into your mirror—a much cleaner, brighter mirror than the one you were pressed against a couple weeks ago. “That nice guy I’ve been seeing at the gym.”

“Wait, what? Are you going on a date date?”

“Hobi,” you giggle, loving your roommate very much despite the way he just forgets sometimes. “We went through this already.”

“So… Is that a yes, or.” His laugh blurts out when you throw a middle finger next to your head. “Okay, okay! You can just say it, you know.”

“I just”—you spot check your makeup before vacating your vanity stool—“You know me. I never do dates.”

As Hobi leans back on your bed, the way his hot pink robe matches your comforter makes you highly amused. Almost amused enough that you don’t react to his nosy question,

“Nervous?”

Extremely.

“Uhm,” you start, all pretenses dropping at the sight of his cocked brow. “A bit.”

Springing up, your roommate pads over and rests thin palms over even thinner straps of your sundress.

“What’s got you nervous, love?”

Pouting, you look out your window before your chin is gently swiveled back forward. Thankful for his insistence, you confess to the only guy that you feel like you can trust,

“What if I like him?”

The laugh you get is full of disbelief and pity. “That’s what you’re worried about? Really?”

When you nod, he chuckles again, but it’s smaller. And more understanding than the first.

“Pathetic, right.”

“No, no no,” Hobi starts, sliding his hands down to warm your biceps before squeezing. When he pauses, his expression gives his thoughts away before he can utter them. “Well, a little.”

“Hoseok.”

“But! Only because you’re making it seem that way.” He squeezes again before sitting back down on your bed. “If you just let things happen without thinking, isn’t that better?”

Does he really have to flop down to rest his head on his palms? Now?

Talk about not thinking.

Whatever. You didn’t expect Hoseok to do that, but he looks hot, so you’ll let it slide.

And you don’t shy away from his silk-covered package before retorting, “Says you.”

“Me? I overthink. That’s different.”

“How!”

“Don’t think about it.”

When he winks, you both laugh, and his grin slowly devolves into a smirk before he motions you over with a mere head cock.

And you gladly oblige.

Because your dynamic with Hobi still hasn’t changed.

Slowly, you arrive at his knees before mounting the bed at his hips, being steadied over his pelvis as he keeps his prone position.

“You look hot as fuck, you know.”

“Mmhmm.”

“He’s gonna like you for sure.”

“Naturally.”

“So what if you end up liking him, too?”

As he smoothes a hand over the side of your ass, you purse your lips in thought. “Uhh… Feelings? I guess?”

“You can have those, babe.”

“Not mine,” you correct, knowing yours are too fucked up to share with anyone. Which is exactly why you’re all for the so-called fast title that Yoongi clipped onto your persona. “His.”

Does the lifestyle you chose come with regrets? Yeah. Complications? Also yes. But at least those hurt less than the regrets and complications actual relationships come with.

You’re just fine with how things are.

Which is why you’re scared about seeing Namjoon, because he seems like the type that wants something steady. If you end up liking him, you’re gonna have to choose between options that are vastly different in color.

Despite all that, you still said yes when he asked you out at the gym last week—while you were drenched, bare-faced, and wincing from the last set you completed to failure.

Why did you say yes anyway? What drew you in to this guy?

“If you’re scared of hurting his feelings, then just tell him straight-up,” Hobi advises, pulling you back to the present. “Guys won’t know shit unless you spell it out.”

Looking down at his perfect features, you fake disbelief, asking the most rhetorical question in existence, “You mean you can’t just read our minds?”

“Baby, we can’t even figure out our own, let alone yours.”

“You said it.” Fully reassured, you rest on Hoseok’s chest, careful to not smudge your face on his clothes. “…Pity fuck if the date goes wrong?”

“Of course.”

Your chuckle is soft. “Thank you.”

“Now get up,” he orders, smacking your ass so perfectly that it offends you. “Before I give you another necklace.”

“Hoseok!” When his cackles follow you up as you stand, your jaw cannot hinge back in. “Goddamn, you’re bad.”

“Not as bad as you,” he says, following you out of your room. “Mami.”

That goddamn nickname.

Hobi knows it’s a common term. And he knows it’s one you hear from multiple people, especially on south side. Literally nothing new or groundbreaking.

But he also knows it makes you unwell because of one specific person. Because you confessed that you didn’t expect it from them during a fuck and it made you weak in the knees.

Which caused the same motherfucker to say it over, and over, and over again.

Fucking Yoongi.

Why the hell is it only potent when he says it?

The psychology of that needs to be studied yet you will completely refuse to be a subject.

After checking to make sure you have everything, you fish out your phone to double-check the address before calling a ride.

“Where is it at?”

“Some restaurant on west side.”

“Damn, all the way over there?”

“I’m okay with it,” you assure him, inwardly wincing at the cost on your screen.

Virtually anything on west side is far from your condo, but that’s partly why you’re alright with going. As much as you get around, you don’t prefer taking people back to your place.

Besides. No one needs to know where you live unless you really fuck with them.

And it’s only happened twice.

Hoseok’s unconvinced reply cuts your thoughts in two,

“Alright… Well. Lemme know if you end up somewhere else tonight.”

Smiling, you offer him a warm look, positive that his lean against the kitchen wall would put models to shame. “I always do.”

“What did I say earlier?”

“Spell it out for him.”

“Okay, good.”

When you grin, he does, too.

And you hope this Namjoon guy at least does well with words.

Turns out, he does a fucking splendid job with them.

At least, the things this man is saying has you absolutely melting under dim lights, and you haven’t even gotten your drinks yet.

“You look damn nice tonight, by the way,” he mentions with a dip of his head, fiddling with his napkin and giving you an upsettingly perfect view of his fingers. “I feel underdressed as hell.”

Underdressed? Looking around, you feel like you’re the one that dressed way too formal and you’re in a damn sundress.

You should’ve known, though. The restaurant that Namjoon chose occupies one of the few streets known for its laid-back, easy-going fare. Even you have heard of its unique charm and you reside quite a ways away.

Before you respond, you remember how you arrived, checking around the small space before spotting him in a booth. And while you loved the lax way he dressed, you were even more charmed when he got out just to greet you with a cheek kiss.

And the night has been so pleasant that you forget to be worried.

“Why? I mean, thank you, but why?”

Namjoon gives his sweatpants-covered thighs a glance. “I dunno. You just look bossed up and I’m like, your errand boy.”

Your mirthy disbelief leaks out of your grin before he can finish. Watching a nearby table point at their menus to order, you go along with his compliments,

“I mean, I could use an assistant…”

He only smiles at his hands. “Order me around anytime.”

Cute.

Maybe that’s why you’re drawn to this guy.

Even though he’s huge and can lift like a motherfucker, there’s a soft side that he’s got no shame showing.

Also, as the night goes on, you quickly discover more traits you rarely come across.

Curious, suave, humble—all of them surprise you in the best way. He’s already let you talk much more than he has, and the two of you have debated on not one, but three topics. Including one that you would have left his ass for if you both weren’t on the same page.

“Okay, so we agree.”

“Yes,” he responds in relief. “Definitely would’ve rethought this whole thing if we didn’t.”

“Uhh, yeah, because I would’ve walked out and let you pay for everything.”

“Damn!” Fuck, his grin is charming. “And I would’ve paid it, too.”

Laughing—and realizing that you’re doing that a lot tonight—you rest a hand on his shoulder, “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Fuck, he’s solid.

“Wait, I’m getting us this time, though.”

“Yeah?”

Holding a round glass up to his lips, he coolly adds,

“And next time, too.”

Well.

There’s no way you’re saying no to that.

“To next time,” you offer, clinking cups and taking a nice sip of your wine.

Things end with both of you just having dinner—a concept so foreign that it makes you wonder if he wanted something more than a second date.

But judging by the times he kept stealing glances and the way his curve stayed at a slant, it’s an open and shut case.

It’s always a bit crowded in the front few rows, so it doesn’t bother you to hang back for the first time in awhile.

Besides, you’re a little late from your date anyway.

Since nothing else happened with Namjoon—he had to leave pretty quick—you determined that you could make it to another Gloss smackdown.

After you greet all the people and bodyguards hanging around the front doors, you arrive downstairs just in time to hear the deejay ushering everyone in.

And based on what you hear, it seems like Yijeong’s got extra volume in his mic tonight.

“Alright, alright, let’s give it up for our two up here, yeah?”

Everyone cheers as you clap to yourself, leaning against a chilly column and ignoring the stares your outfit gets.

The stage looks quite different from back here, with its huddled occupants talking amongst themselves. While you watch both crews laughing and standing around, you wonder what it would be like to support Yoongi from up there instead of on the ground.

You really would if he wanted you to.

“I don’t have to introduce either one but I’m gonna do it anyway. Cus that’s the rules or whatever and they both deserve some love. Give it up for my man K Shine!”

You aren’t familiar with him but you support anyway. A tiny whoop leaves your mouth as a big portion of the room shouts, and you watch as the guy nods to the people that came to see him.

“Oh, we’re showing out, okay. Alright, now let’s hear it for my guy Gloss!”

In contrast, your energy evolves tenfold, and you gladly yell with the rest of the floor as Yoongi stays piercing the ground at his feet.

This guy.

Still the same routine.

You always muse that he could look into the crowd once in awhile, especially since his audience is steadily growing.

If they ever saw his smile, maybe more people would be drawn in wait is he looking up this time?

Wait.

Despite there being rows and rows between you and the stage, you don’t miss the slight shift in his demeanor. It almost looks like he’s scanning the people in front.

What’s he doing? Is he looking for something? Someone?

…He’s not looking for you, is he?

You’re there quite often and always in the same area, but you didn’t think Yoongi would really notice or be checking for you right now.

…But is he?

Before you can think any further, the quick blares of an airhorn shove your thoughts away.

“K Shine, you win the toss,” the middle man on stage announces. Fuck, you think you’d know his name by now, he’s been here a lot ever since the first guy disappeared. “What you got.”

When the man answers, he stares right at Yoongi’s hooded head, fire flaring up the walls already,

“Mister Big House, Big Car, Big Rings can go first.”

Oh.

He—

You really fucking regret not being in the front now.

Immediately, the whole room ooh’s, with the middle man pursing his lips and giving the two opponents space.

Light illuminates the whole stage as both sides back up a bit, heavy cameras set to roll and some feedback ringing through the musty air.

And you wait with bated breath as the crowd goes quiet.

Heart stilling as Yoongi holds a mic right up to his lips.

—

tbc :)))

—

so.. what do we think lmaooo 🦋 | join the taglist :D

a/n: thank you all for reading! as i don't have too much time to spend on fics nowadays, i'll be heavily considering feedback and excitement around fics to determine what to work on. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: all the names i’m gonna include that aren’t the members (or yijeong lol) are real life battle rappers! k-shine was one of the first ones i ever watched, and he has good aggressive delivery and performance but not too many heavy hitters. anybody i namedrop will have rap battles linked, so here is one of k-shine’s that i remember from back in the day. battle rap is an art form in itself, and i would like to showcase these talented individuals whenever i can.

++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist

#y'all we finally did it we finally posted something :')))#bts fic #yoongi fic #namjoon fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #hoseok smut #*ryenfictalk #*latest #ryenwrites #rapline fic #rapline smut #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader

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dollfaceksj · 10 months

Text

the pink pill series | ot7 (m) MASTERLIST

➥ banner by: @jkndigo.

➥ PAIRINGS: namjoon x fem!reader ; seokjin x fem!reader ; yoongi x fem!reader ; hoseok x fem!reader ; jimin x fem!reader ; taehyung x fem!reader ; jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ porn without plot ⋆ multiple dynamics

➥ CATEGORY: series of 7 one-shots

➥ GENERAL WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it up), protected sex, friends with benefits, exes, enemies to lovers, fuckboys, best friends, strangers, accidental consumption of the pill, creampie, cumshots, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, spanking, choking, forceful restraint (no not in that way), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, edging, crying, multiple sex positions, saliva-play, begging, dom/sub, brattiness, rough sex, facefucking, gonna add more later, yes this is a real pill just look up pink pussycat pill or pink kitty pill, minors DNI

➥ TOTAL WORDCOUNT: 18.9k (so far)

➥ STATUS: 2/7

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

CONCEPT VIDEO:

©dollfaceksj // edited by me

song: beyoncé – partition

— T H E O N E - S H O T S ↓

♢ the pink pill | knj ver. ; ✄

♢ the pink pill | ksj ver. ; ✄

♢ the pink pill | myg ver. — “no one else” ; 9.8k

♢ the pink pill | jhs ver. ; ✄

♢ the pink pill | pjm ver. ; ✄

♢ the pink pill | kth ver. ; ✄

♢ the pink pill | jjk ver. — “3 days” ; 9.1k

➸ crossposted to ao3.

➸ support me by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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solarwonux · 13 days

Text

Business Proposal || knj (10/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 4.5

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: I hope you enjoy. Please let know your thoughts!

Prev | next

m.list | series m.list | wattpad

10 Years Ago

It was bittersweet.

You’ve been staying over Hoseok’s apartment more than usual, refusing to leave his side.

In four days he will be boarding a plane, moving across the world. Your mood has been on a constant shift. With every high you feel another low coming up. You’ve burst out in tears at least four times a day in the past month. Your heart feels heavy inside your chest, and everytime Hoseok looks at you for a little longer than usual, you feel your heart break.

“What about this one?” You say over your shoulder, holding out a mug in his direction. You’ve been helping him pack up his house for the past three days. His loud apartment, stripped to something quiet, almost lifeless.

Hoseok looks in your direction, his bangs are being held back by a Louis Vuitton headband. He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt and joggers. He looks like a dream.

“I made that with Namjoon three years ago.” He smiles, and places the blanket he was folding into one of the boxes. “You can have it, it has our initials on the bottom.” He walks over to you and kneels down in front of you. He grabs the mug from your hands and turns it over, showing you the messy KNJ and JHS initials.

You pout, “It’s yours. Why would you want to give it away?” You say tilting your head in confusion.

Hoseok chuckles, placing the mug on your lap. “Namjoon broke his the second we left the shop. But I want you to have it, you’ll use it more than I ever did.” He places a kiss on your forehead before taking the seat next you, peering into the box you’ve been packing away.

You place your head against his shoulder. “You’ve already given me like a fourth of your stuff.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and reels you in closer. “This way I’m keeping all my most valuable things in the family.” He shrugs, twinkling his fingers down your arm.

You give him a small smile, “My mom is going to think I’m dating an old billionaire with all the designer things you’ve just given me for no reason.”

“Well it's a good thing your mom loves me to pieces.” He says snaking his hand under your t-shirt and resting it on your hip. His cold palm sends a shiver up your spine. “I do have something for her.” He slowly moves his hand up, stopping just below your bra. You shudder when you feel his thumb start to caress your side.

“She’s gotten enough presents from you.” You roll your eyes, sitting up to look up at him.

He leans his head close. “There will never be enough presents for the woman who birthed the woman I love.” He whispers before closing the space and kissing you hard. He moves his mug to the side before pulling you to straddle his lap.

This is exactly why it's taken three days to pack up his entire apartment. Apart from him having a lot of shit. Neither of you can take your hands off each other. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You ground your hips into his, earning a small grunt from him. “I want to do this forever.” You whisper against his lips before pushing his head closer to you. You open your mouth, letting his tongue enter, exploring the inside of your mouth while he bucks his hips up. You’re hungry for each other, and it feels good. Everything about him feels 7 he pulls away.

His eyes are swimming in lust, probably matching your own. His hands shake, desperate to undress you like he did a few hours ago when you came back from the local bakery down the street. The croissants you had bought for breakfast were forgotten by his front door because he had woken up without you by his side and in a mood.

“Trust me, if things were different we would be doing this forever.” He whispers, taking your shirt off. He wastes no time to unbuckle your bra. In the last few days your love making has been filled with desperate gestures. Clinging onto each other like it's the last time you will ever be seeing one another. In some ways, there is truth to those actions, but you try not to dwell on those thoughts for too long.

“Let me go with you.” You gasp, when you feel his mouth wrap around your nipple, sucking on it, humming in delight. He pulls away, kissing up the valley of your breast, his thumb ghosting over your other nipple.

He gives you a small grin, before pecking your lips a few times. “You know I can’t let you do that.” He says against your lips. “I want nothing more than to bring you along with me, but you deserve to be happy and that won’t be with me across the world.” He says sadly. His hands find purchase against your hips. His thumbs sneaking their way under the waistband of your black sweatpants. He plays with the lace of your panties.

You sigh, nodding your head, bunching up his shirt in your hands. “I hate it when you’re right.” He helps you take off his shirt. You throw it to the side, smiling at the lotus tattoo on his left pec. It matches the one you have on your back right above your spine. You lean down and kiss it slowly. He lets out a sigh, before placing both of his palms against your cheeks and guiding your face to look at him.

His eyebrows are furrowed, worry etched all over his face. “Hey, I mean it. If things were different we would be planning a wedding by now.” He says.

You sigh, blinking fast to keep your eyes from watering. “I don’t want to talk about this right now Hoseok.”

He caresses your cheeks. “Hey, you only call me Hoseok when something is bothering you.” He tilts his head, moving a strand of your hair behind your head. “What’s wrong?”

“Now,” You ask curiously as you gesture at the missing clothing items and your compromising position. “Aren’t we in the middle of something?”

“Yes now, sex can wait. Your pretty little head can be very loud sometimes, especially when you’re quiet.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, scooting closer, grinning when you feel his hard length press into your core. In typical Hoseok fashion, the man can always put his pleasure aside in the oddest moments. Though, it's something you find yourself very fond of.

“I don’t want to break up.” You whisper, pushing your chest against his. Your hard nipples brushing over the skin of his naked chest. “What if we get into a huge fight and we never talk again. Even if you’re not here physically I still want you to be here.” You confess, pouting.

Hoseok nods, his hands make their way into your sweat pants and he squeezes your ass, making you gasp. Also in typical Hoseok fashion, he always finds the oddest ways to have a serious conversation. You can count on two hands how many times the two of you have been in the middle of having sex, while having a serious conversation.

He’s never voiced it, but you suspect it's his way of showing you that no matter what, his mind, body, and soul are intuned with yours. “I know, but you’re not going to lose me. No matter what, you’ll always be in my life. Even if one day we stop talking. I’ll always care about you, your well-being, and your happiness.” He slowly begins to guide your hips against his while he bucks his hips, grinding into you slowly.

You gasp, your heartbeat begins to increase, your hands slowly move down his chest and stop at the waistband of his joggers. “I don’t want to stop talking, I want to talk to you everyday until we get sick of each other.” You move your hand into his pants. You smile when you remember he skipped out on underwear after this morning. You slowly wrap your hand around his length, squeezing him gently.

His breath hitches, and haphazardly pulls down your sweatpants, exposing your ass and the navy blue lace panties you put on after showering this morning. “Then we will do exactly that. I’ll text and facetime you everyday until you ghost me.” He pulls your hips closer. “Now, turn around.” He slaps your ass gently, moaning your name when you rub his tip with your thumb.

“W-What?” You lean up on your knees, while he pushes your sweatpants down, your grip on his length loosens. Your breasts are right in front of his face while he continues to undress you. He licks one of your nipples before bringing his palm down and slapping them gently.

“Baby I want you to turn around. I you to watch yourself as I fuck you.” He demands, guiding you, turning around in his lap. You’re met with your reflection. His bedroom mirror somehow has made it out to his emptying living room. You watch while he undresses himself behind you, admiring the way your chest rises and falls.

You look desirable. Your nipples are hard against the air. Your chest is flushed with heat. Your lips are swollen from how hard the two of you were kissing. Your eyes are dark and filled with lust. Your tummy is exposed, revealing your small rolls and the hickeys he left on you last night. The only thing you’re wearing are your panties and those do nothing to cover up your desire.

Hoseok settles down behind you. One of his arms comes up to wrap around your waist and pulls you closer. You can feel his hardness press into the small of your back. He kisses down your neck, his fingers caressing your stomach. “You’re so sexy.” He whispers against your skin, pushing your legs apart, exposing the center of your pussy to yourself in the mirror. “Look at yourself, this is what I see every time. And every time I fall in love with you and your body more.” He moves his hand further down. His index finger settling over your wetness.

He wastes no time as he moves your panties to the side. His fingers move up to your clit, circling it a few times before moving his fingers down your slit. He gathers your wetness. He repeats his actions a few times, your quiet moans grow louder every time he plays with you. Finally he inserts both of his fingers, making your hips buck into his hand. His other hand plays with your nipples, while his lips kiss their way up and down your neck, your chin, your shoulder.

He moves slowly at first, grinning against your skin when you start moaning his name like a prayer. He loves making you wither underneath him. You feel so good, it's over powering your body. You throw your head back in pleasure. And he stops. You whine when you feel his fingers leave your heat. Only to have his palm come down, a wet slap resounding against his empty walls. “Don’t close your eyes, watch yourself babygirl.”

You moan loudly, bucking your hips. He presses your hips against his and inserts his fingers again. His pace is unrelenting. His dirty whispers get louder. You're moaning so loud, that you’re thankful for the soundproof walls.

You can’t deny it, watching yourself is turning you on even more now. You’re a withering mess against him. Your cheeks are red, there’s a few sweat droplets gathering at your hairline. Your body is starting to glisten with sweat as well. You look so fucked out that you begin to understand why Hoseok was adamant at taking a few pictures of you in this state a few months ago.

You look sexy as fuck, and somehow this is the most empowering thing you have ever had happen to you.

“Let me cum please.” You gasp, when his other hand comes down. His finger starts playing with your clit. You’re a wet squelching mess, and it takes everything inside Hoseok to not stop in order to drink you.

“Do it, show me how hard you cum for me.” His length is so hard that it’s leaking against your back. And it makes your mouth water. You want to wrap your lips around him until he releases himself down your throat. But he never lets you, only a few times. He prefers pleasuring you than himself. He says there’s nothing sexier than you coming around his tongue.

And with how much of a mess he’s making out of you. You can’t help but agree.

He takes his fingers out and slaps your pussy a few times, before inserting his fingers again. This time adding a third. Your hole is gapping open, clenching with every single movement he does. The pressure builds up in the pit of your stomach, until finally you lose control. Cumming hard, moaning his name in a scream. You gush around his fingers, pushing him out. He continues to rub your clit, whispering praises into your ear as you continue to ride your high.

It’s so dirty. It’s so sexy. You want to relive every single moment you have like this for the rest of your life.

You whimper, withering with over stimulation and he stops. Kissing your cheek gently, then your temple and finally your lips. He kisses you softly before pulling away. “You always do so good for me.” He grins.

“I want more.” You whine.

He chuckles, bringing his wet fingers up to your mouth. You take them, swirling your tongue, moaning at your own taste. “You will get more. Just wait.” He promises.

A promise that he doesn’t break for the next three hours.

So much for packing.

You’ve never experienced a goodbye that hurt. Until you watched Hoseok walk through the security gates at the airport with tears welling up in his eyes. It was the only time in your relationship that you wanted to tell him to throw away everything he’s ever worked for to stay here with you.

Your chest hurts as you watch the back of his head slowly disappear through the crowd of people. Your lungs were on fire when he didn’t look back, even if you had him promise not to do so. A little part of you still hoped that he would break that promise to tell you he loved you one last time.

He didn’t, and the months you shared with Jung Hoseok were officially over.

That realization led you to your breaking point. If it wasn’t for the two arms that were wrapped around your shoulders in comfort. You would’ve fallen to the floor in tears.

Jungkook, the person you never expected to befriend, held you tightly. He lets you grip on his arm and use his sleeve to wipe away your tears. But your sobs were painful, and he quickly brought you into a hug, leaving a sweet kiss on top of your head.

“You can stay with us until you feel better.” He whispers, patting your back in comfort. “You can help Joon and I unpack.” He suggests. You know he’s only offering because it will help keep you busy.

Coincidentally Namjoon and Jungkook moved into their new place last night. You helped them unload the truck along with Hoseok and Jimin but for some reason Namjoon refused to unpack. The four of you sat on their living room floor eating pizza and fried chicken, no alcohol because Jungkook is on a diet.

Hoseok held onto you the entire night. He refused to let you go and out of his line of sight. He kissed everywhere that was appropriate in front of your friends. You tried your hardest to memorize his smell and the timbre of his voice. Knowing that one day as time passes, you will forget.

“Okay,” You choke out pulling away from his embrace. Namjoon has been standing to the side, hands in his pocket, his eyebrows furrowed. He hasn’t spoken a word to you since last night after he came back from a smoke break with your boyfriend–ex boyfriend.

“Let’s go then.” Jungkook unravels his arms from your shoulders. Shoots a look towards his brother. A silent acknowledgment between the two and the older turns on his heels and leaves.

“Is he okay?” You whisper, watching his back walk through the airport and exiting.

“Yeah,” Jungkook starts, “He will be, he’s just a little confused.”

You turn your head quickly to face your best friend, a raised eyebrow in question. “About what?”

“I have no idea, he won’t tell me the reason.”

A reason neither of you will find out about for years.

You don’t further the subject, wiping away your tears on your sleeve. You don’t want to walk out of the airport yet. You want to stay until Hoseok’s plane leaves. Even if he won’t leave for the next two hours. You will keep your feet planted until you watch his plane disappear through the clouds in the sky.

Though you’ve gotten closure from Hoseok. After you left your friend's apartment last night. The two of you sat in his car in the parking lot talking of a McDonald’s, essentially breaking up. A wound that burned so bright it could light up the missing ‘l’ of the fast food sign.

Jungkook squeezes your shoulder and guides you towards the exit. With every step you feel your heart break more and more. The cherry on top is when you feel your phone vibrate before you finally step through the automatic doors of the airport.

You fish it out quickly. Thea name on your screen tugs at your heartstrings, creating a bittersweet melody.

My Sunshine

You don’t hesitate to open the text. It takes everything in you to not turn around and run past TSA to kiss Jung Hoseok one last time. But the text on the screen is enough. It’s the final line of your book with him and the line you will find yourself going back to whenever you miss him. Until the day that you don’t.

I will always love you.xx

“Okay you’re being annoying now.” Taehyung says as he storms into your room. You haven’t left your room for the last two weeks.

Jimin has come to visit you to cheer you up. The two of you watched the entire Star Wars Franchise in just three days. Jungkook keeps sending you memes through text. Taehyung has been trying to persuade you to go out with him to find a rebound. And the only person you want to cry to has been ignoring your entire existence.

Namjoon has been ignoring you.

Jungkook says he’s going through his own set of emotions, so you’re not upset. You just hope that he still wants to be your friend.

Two losses in a month is not something you need right now.

“What are you doing here?” You say bringing your duvet over your head. Taehyung has been here for two hours, except in those two hours he’s been downstairs talking to your mother and brother. You’re pretty sure your mother had him do odd jobs with your brother until he could finally get away.

Taehyung gets a hold of your duvet and pries it off your body. A frustrated noise leaves your mouth as you sit up slamming your hands on top of your mattress. “Has anyone told you that you’re the most annoying person on this fucking planet.” You say crossing your legs underneath you.

“Yes, actually. At this point I take it as a compliment. Now get up.” He rolls his eyes, opening your closet, throwing you the first shirt he gets a hold off and a pair of jeans. “Get changed before I change you myself.”

You throw the shirt back to him. “No, get out.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and kneels on your bed. He grabs your waist and hoists you up. It surprises you for a second because when did your childhood best friend get so strong?

“Let me go Tae or I won’t talk to you anymore. I’m so serious about this.” You yell. He ignores your fussing and walks out of your bedroom into your shared bathroom with your friend. The latter standing next to his bedroom door, a smirk on his lips. “Help me idiot.” You yell. Your brother simply shrugs and walks into his bedroom.

Taehyung sets you down in the shower, turning on the water. The icy cold catches you off guard, and you scream in frustration. “Now you have no choice but to get ready.” He pushes aside your anger, closing the glass door in front of you. Leaving you seething and wet.

“I’ll bring your clothes. We are going out tonight.”

You grumble, pulling down on your black mini dress as you follow your so-called best friend through the club street of your home town.

In the last two hours you’ve found out that all of your friends including your mother have conspired against you. All of them have secretly planned a night out in order to get you out of your self-wallowing pity hole. Taehyung who wakes up to choose violence everyday is the one to execute the final step of their plan.

It’s annoying. You’re beyond angry, but your mom made it pretty clear that you weren’t allowed to come back until you went to at least one club.

So here you are. Following Taehyung in a dress you bought years ago but never wore because it was out of your comfort zone. Apparently Jungkook, Jimin and Jimin’s girlfriend Lia are already waiting outside the first club.

“Let’s go princess.” Taehyung snaps his fingers. You roll your eyes, hitting his hand away.

“I’m not a dog Tae.” You spit out, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Why did you ever buy this dress in the first place? Sure, it was cute, and a spur of the moment purchase, but you should’ve known better.

Taehyung sighs, catching up to you and snakes an arm around your shoulders tugging you into his side. “I know this is the last thing you want to do.” He starts halting your movements and turning you to face him.

“Can you blame me Tae, it literally hurts to breathe sometimes.” You choke out, blinking back tears. Crying before the club is worse than crying inside the club. You have no lights or music to distract the bystanders from witnessing your breakdown.

“We know princess, but the last thing Hoseok would want is for you to put your life on pause.”

“D-Don’t say his name, please.” You whisper, looking down at the dirt floor. Your chunky black heels have attracted mud while you walk through the streets, and you wish you would’ve begged harder for Taehyung to let you wear your sneakers.

Taehyung sighs, and brings you in for a hug. “I know it’s hard. But just one club try to enjoy yourself for at least an hour. You love dancing, let it all go and just dance with me tonight.” He whispers, rubbing your shoulders.

You hate that a part of you agrees with him. You hate that he’s right about Hoseok wanting you to move on from him. But you’ve never fallen so hard for someone before. You’ve never known what it's like to love until him, and it’s hard to just forget. Still, rotting in bed is not the answer to all of your life's problems. Neither is clubbing, but your friends have different ways of coping with hard situations.

“Fine, just one club.”

You should’ve known better.

One club always meant three clubs. One drink always meant five drinks.

The lights are blinding, and your black mini dress is sticking to your skin from all of the sweat. Your waterproof mascara has forgotten that it’s waterproof. Your feet are so numb that you can’t feel your toes. But you haven’t thought about your break up and your sadness in the past four hours.

Taehyung’s hands are on your hips as he guides you to the beat of the music. You’ve been stuck to his side the entire time. Nothing more than a playful feeling brewing between the two of you. It’s platonic. It doesn’t mean anything, and it feels good to just let loose after such a long time.

You look around the emptying club, spotting Jimin and Lia making out in the corner. Jungkook is talking up a girl by the DJ booth. You do feel almost bad that you’ve hogged Taehyung the entire night. You’re sure he wants to chat up the girls that have been sending you death glares the entire night. But Taehyung is loyal. He always has been and he promised he’d stay by your side the entire night.

“I’m going to go get some water.” You say into Taehyung’s ear, yelling above the music so he can hear you. He sheepishly looks at you and nods his head.

His hands drop down to his side, and he leans into your ear. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He slurs. You give him a thumbs up and walk around his body towards the bar. You approach the bar, stumbling through the bodies blocking your way. When you finally make it to your destination, you sit on one of the barstools.

You lean your chin on top of the palm of your hand, watching the bartender waiting for him to finally acknowledge your existence. He doesn’t come fast enough because you’re soon distracted by a tap against your shoulder. You turn around, locking eyes with soft brown eyes and a sweet smile. The man is beautiful, straight out of a magazine editorial, but there’s something familiar about him. You aren’t sure if it’s his laid-back style or the swoop of his hair, but you’re positive that you’ve seen him before.

Maybe in your dreams?

Or maybe the alcohol in your system is causing the delusion to come up to the surface. More evidence that you need water. So, you ignore his presence and turn to face the bar. He does the opposite and takes the empty seat next to you. You blink at him, opening your mouth to say something, but he stops you.

“Is that your boyfriend?” He says, pointing behind you. You follow his finger, your eyes landing on Taehyung, talking to some girls right outside of the bathroom. You smile, turning to face the stranger again.

“No, he's my friend.” You shrug.

The stranger nods, before holding his hand out in a handshake. “In that case, I’m Ian.”

You don’t know what comes over you. But you take his hand, “Nice to meet you Ian.” You introduce yourself. A mistake you’ll one day regret at a coffee shop with Namjoon and matching red rimmed eyes.

The beginning of your fall from grace.

But how would you have known? Getting back on your feet was the whole purpose of this night.

Right?

a/n: I hope you all understand who the last character introduction is if you remember the whole premise of the story lmao. But this is our last chapter in the past. We will be going back to the present!

#bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #kdiarynet #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #namjoon imagines #namjoon fanfiction #Namjoon smut #i hope we get to talk more in the new year #Namjoon x reader #jhope smut #bangtan #bts fics #bts x reader

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ffion451 · 9 months

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Love Me Again | a kth oneshot (m)

Summary: Should a promise get in the way of the only love you’ve ever truly known?

Pairing: Taehyung x fem!reader | Also featuring: PJM, KNJ, JHS, MYG | Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below)

Warnings: 🔞 SMUT (m/f inc.unprotected sex) lots of swearing/cursing, minor reference to serious illness |Rating: M ⚠️🔞 Adults only - minors should steer clear of the whole thing🔞⚠️ (all mature content under the cut)

Word count: 14.5K

Note: 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐-𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙼𝚎 𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 ʟᴀʏᴏ(ꪜ)ᴇʀ 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚜, 𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 💛

Unlike the balmy heat of high summer nights, the dying days of summer carry cool breezes through the darkness. The chill that snakes through Taehyung’s room kisses the sweat on his skin, causing him to shudder.

You laugh, a low chuckle, as the sensation moves through your body, your hair brushing his face as he kisses your throat.

“Taehyung,” you moan, throwing back your head as you sit in his lap, riding him with agonising slowness as he clings to you desperately, his teeth teasing your nipple. He tries to buck up into you, needing to come.

“Behave,” you warn, pushing him onto his back so you can ride him faster, clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans, his heart swelling at your broad smile of satisfaction, “I love you so fucking much…”

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

The next morning, his alarm wakes him insistently. He stretches his arm out, but he doesn’t need the coolness of the sheets to tell him he’s alone. He drags his sleep-heavy body from his empty bed, stumbling to his shower in the suffocating silence of his apartment.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Mist rises in hazy, shimmering layers, diffusing into the early morning blue. The dew lifted gently from the manicured and too-green fairway by the insistent morning sun. Hyejin shields her eyes from the glare as she looks across the green. Her boyfriend’s friends are scattered about, swinging their clubs absent-mindedly as they chat enthusiastically in the early morning light.

“Why are we playing golf if nearly everyone is terrible at it?” she asks her boyfriend under her breath.

Smiling, Namjoon leans in, “Because we promised Taehyung we would,” he whispers, “And we’re hoping it might lift him out of the rut he’s been in.”

As he speaks, Hyejin looks over at Taehyung, he’s gnawing at his bottom lip as watches Yoongi gamely trying to correct your terrible swing.

“He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself,” she says, thinking aloud. Namjoon only grunts in agreement and so she continues in a quiet, confidential tone, “Y’know, this is the first time I’ve seen those two together,” she says, gesturing between you and Taehyung.

“That’s a conversation for later,” Namjoon whispers urgently as Jimin approaches, suspicion written over his face.

Hyejin nods, changing the subject in time for Jimin’s arrival, knowing how protective he is of Taehyung. Nonetheless, as the group work their way around the golf course, the gulf between you and Taehyung becomes more and more clear to her.

That evening, curled into Namjoon on Hobi’s couch, Hyejin takes the opportunity to return to the subject just as Jimin leaves to grab snacks from the nearby convenience store.

Namjoon and Hobi both listen carefully as she asks her questions: why is it that you and Taehyung are so rarely at the same events? Why is it, when you’re both so seemingly well-suited that you’re not friends? Did you used to date? Is your history the reason for the weird energy between you? Will you not be coming to Joon’s dinner party together as she’d assumed?

Namjoon and Hobi share a look of understanding, before Hobi responds, “It’s a strange situation. They used to be really close, but no they’ve never dated. It’s hard to go into the details, but it’s all to do with Taehyung’s ex -“

Jimin, with stealthy grace, reentered the apartment some time ago and chose to listen in instead of interrupting. He likes Hyejin but the way she looked between you and Taehyung on the golf course made him worry about her possible interference in the fraught situation between the two of you. Now he can stand by no longer, entering the room, “They would never work. They’re not meant to be, and pushing that agenda would be a massive mistake. Everyone involved would get hurt,” he says firmly, glaring at all three.

Hyejin flushes with embarrassment; Hobi notices, and seeks to ease the tension, “Don’t worry, it’s already been decided that Taehyung will come to the party with my sister, her husband has a conference that takes him overseas then.”

Hyejin is silenced as the conversation moves on; she doesn’t know why but it feels like somehow the scales of sympathy in this situation are tipped in Taehyung’s favour and she doesn’t understand why. Yes, she likes Taehyung, but she likes you too and cannot understand how you could ever have done anything to annoy Taehyung or to make him not like you. She thinks of you, alone at the party, and her heart goes out to you.

Matchmaking you and Taehyung may be a bad idea, but Hyejin is a resourceful woman and her mind is already moving onto Plan B.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Hyejin smiles graciously around her guests as she returns from the kitchen with another two bottles of champagne; everyone has been well fed and Namjoon’s friends sit about the apartment in comfortable groups laughing and chatting. She catches Namjoon’s eye, he’s deep in conversation with Jimin and Hobi and he throws her a glowing smile. They’ve only even together a few months but it’s quickly grown serious, the two of them looking for the same commitment and she’s feels accepted by this group of his friends, as he is by hers. That thought in mind, her eyes seek out her friend Hyungsik, but his attention is occupied. She’s pleased to see Hyungsik sitting so closely to you, in chairs opposite each other, your knee resting against his as he leans towards you to be closer, his gaze and attention rapt. She had been confident that setting the two of you up would be a success and she’s thrilled that she was right to be.

Noticing your empty glasses she approaches, “More champagne?” she asks.

Hyungsik nods but you cover the mouth of your glass, “No more for me, thanks. I have a early start on things tomorrow and I’m feeling a little bit lightheaded.”

“Are you sure that’s not just Hyungsik?” she teases.

Both of you blush sweetly. Making insincere apologies, she moves on toward a group standing at the wall. They’re all laughing about something, except Taehyung, who seems to be trying to burn a hole through the back of Hyungsik’s head.

Blocking his laser-gaze, Hyejin offers him a top up and is surprised to see him accept it and down it in one gulp. Filling his glass again, she asks him if he’s ok, and only receives a gruff reply as he excuses himself to the kitchen.

The tone of their conversation clearly caught your attention, and with a smile you excuse yourself from Hyungsik, following Taehyung to the kitchen. All eyes turn to the scene and Hyejin notices Namjoon lay a hand on Jimin’s arm to stop him following. Spying Hyungsik’s look of confusion, Hyejin takes your seat and quickly distracts him explaining the apparent bad blood between you and Taehyung as she understands it..

You enter the kitchen to be greeted by Taehyung’s back as he stares out the window pointlessly; all there is to be scene against the darkness of the night is the reflection of the room behind him. You hear him audibly sigh as he watches your reflection enter.

“Taehyung…” you begin, unsure of what to say now that your here. You followed him on instinct, years of friendship and being attuned to his feelings and moods compelling you to follow him.

He doesn’t turn, “Yeah?” he replies, the one syllable coloured with boredom.

“What’s going on?” you ask bluntly, “You and I used to be so close. I know you’ve made it clear that you don’t want that anymore… I’m really am trying to respect your feelings, but I don’t understand what I’ve done and I want to.”

He turns to face you, “We just don’t hang out as much,” he says flatly, “There’s nothing more to it than that.”

You take in his heavy-lidded disinterested gaze and downturned mouth, “Taehyung, it’s more than that. We used to do everything together and now you barely speak to me. When you look at me, like now, it’s like you can’t wait to get away from me. Did I do something wrong? If I did, please tell me. I just want to fix it - I want to be friends again.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. We’re still friends,” is all the reply he makes, rolling his eyes slightly.

You grit your teeth as annoyance begins to build in you, and you gesture from you to him, “This here is not what I’d call friendship, Taehyung. This has been going on for nearly a year now. Ever since you broke up with Hana you’ve been like this - things have been weird since she left. You never even told me what happened with you two… If I haven’t done anything wrong then why won’t you open up to me? Please let me in, maybe I can help? I can see you’re not happy, Tae.”

He rolls his eyes more obviously this time, “I’m not unhappy,” he lies, “Look, when Hana and I broke up I had to reevaluate a lot of things and I realised I wasn’t very happy about our friendship, I was too dependent on you and so I decided to give us more space. It’s that simple.”

You frown a little and can’t help but cock your head in confusion, “I wish you’d spoken to me first - I’ve never thought that. It meant a lot to me that you trusted me and my opinion- “

“It wasn’t just that,” Taehyung interrupts, “You were too dependent on me too. Sometimes I just found it a bit suffocating. Like I said, I need space. I need to be able to breathe.”

You can’t control the tremble of your lower lip as his words hit home. Your eyes fill as Taehyung makes an awkward face and he seems to have a funny sort of spasm, like he intends to comfort you but decides that it’s better not to.

“I understand,” you say, you voice small, any irritation in you diminished, “I didn’t realise that was how things were. I wish you’d said something sooner. I’m sorry that I made you feel like that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says more kindly, “I think it’s better like it is now.”

Your eyes meet, his are uncomfortable, yours are pained. You make an odd kind of gesture behind you as though you’re gesturing to an invisible force beckoning you from the room; your body feels strange, and slightly out of your control, “Well, yeah,” you stutter awkwardly as the need to cry begins to overwhelm you. You feel horribly embarrassed and barely recognise the man in front of you as the Taehyung you’ve known for years, “Sorry to have bothered you - I best get back…” you say, as though speaking to a stranger. Your voice catches slightly on the last syllable as you turn from the room on numb legs, heading away from your friends and to the solitude of the bathroom instead.

Moments later, Jimin joins him in the kitchen, his face tight, as Hobi moves through the hallway in pursuit of you, concern etched over his kind face.

Hyejin watches Taehyung return to the main room long after Hobi brought you back in, he looks pale, his jaw tense. He’s quick to look away from Hobi who glares across the room at him like he could skin him alive, though Taehyung doesn’t miss the damp patch on Hobi’s shoulder and the slight smudge of mascara against the grey fabric.

Taehyung’s eyes seek you out; and he finds you chatting with with Hyungsik, the taller man towering over you. He’s unnecessarily tall, Taehyung thinks spitefully, Too tall for you. Though you’re smiling, he knows it’s false, he knows you too well not to recognise it: your weak smile doesn’t reach your noticeably puffy eyes. You seem to be agreeing to something Hyungsik’s suggesting before you and he separate; you head towards Namjoon, while Hyungsik approaches Hyejin, who is close enough to Taehyung for him to be able to hear every word.

“Hey, thanks for a lovely evening,” Hyungsik smiles, reminding her of your early start in the morning, “So we’re going to head off. I’ll take her home and make sure she’s ok, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Hyejin smiles, touching his arm, “I hope you two had a nice evening together?”

He beams in response, “We’ve only known each other a little while,” he smiles, “But I am definitely glad you introduced us. You were right, we really do get along -“

So, Hyejin set you two up, Taehyung realises, How patronising of her, you don’t need her help to find someone, especially this lanky, too-smiley guy. It’s the first time he’s felt or thought anything negative towards Hyejin, and he feels momentarily embarrassed. Both his thoughts and Hyungsik’s explanation are interrupted by your approach. You thank Hyejin, are generous in your praise for her cooking and the evening. Then, taking Hyungsik’s arm, you offer a quick goodbye to those around, skimming over Taehyung with the smallest of nods, and you leave with your new friend.

Hyejin can’t help but look at Taehyung, his face stoney and impassive, giving away no emotion. He’s a good actor, she admits, But his performance isn’t perfect… noticing his white knuckles as he strangles the stem of his glass.

Later, when everyone has left, Hobi, who has stayed to help clear up, spills everything to Hyejin. He’s seen her concern for you, her well-intentioned interference between you and Taehyung. He judges it wisest to tell her the truth that Taehyung won’t even tell you before her well-meaning but ultimately disastrous interventions make everything worse.

He explains that, as Namjoon earlier confirmed, it all began with Taehyung’s ex, Hana. Their relationship had always been volatile and before they broke up they had been having serious problems for a while, largely focused around his friendship with you and her suspicion of it. They were on the verge of breaking up when she fell ill, seriously ill.

Hobi explains the whole situation, “So you see, when she realised that she wouldn’t get better she didn’t want to stay here, but wanted to return to her family. She wanted Taehyung’s last memories of her not to be so sad, so they called it a day.”

Hyejin nods, “That’s awful, poor girl. Poor Tae….” she sympathises, “But how has that ruined his friendship?”

Hobi purses his lips, unsure if he should go on, “Well, you see, she knew that Taehyung would be her last relationship and even though it was ending, she said she wanted it to have meaning. She asked him to make her a promise, not to let the person who came between them be the ending to their story.”

Hyejin nods, “She asked him to end his friendship?”

Hobi squints a little, “Not exactly, she asked him not to get together with her.”

Hyejin frowns, “So why has he cut her out completely?”

Hobi thinks for a moment, “Taehyung and I have never had an honest conversation about this so I can only speculate, but I think Hana was on to something. Their friendship was close and even though nothing was going on, anyone with eyes could tell there were feelings there on both sides. I think when Hana asked that, Taehyung realised what his feelings were. I’m not sure if it was the promise, or guilt, or confusion, but when Hana left that’s when he started to freeze her out until they got to where they’re at now.”

“That’s so sad,” Hyejin says, shaking her head, “So that’s it? There’s no hope for them? How is Hana now?”

Hobi scratches his neck, “Nobody knows, she blocked and ghosted him when she left. The rest of us barely knew her, she never really hung out with us. I think what she asked of him was wrong, but given her situation I don’t want to judge her.”

Hyejin nods, “No, me either,” she admits, chewing her lip, “Jeez, what a mess.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

An ocean of clouds, stretching to the horizon, drifts beneath Taehyung; the plastic that was so soothingly cool minutes ago, now presses, painful and warm, against his head. Reluctantly he tears his eyes from the small frame of the world below and leans his head back into the soft cushion of his head rest, closing his eyes with a heavy breath.

“Are you ok?” Jimin asks softly beside him.

“Hmm,” Taehyung hums, “Just thinking.”

“About Hana?” Jimin prompts. Yes, thinks Taehyung, He was thinking of Hana for a moment, but then of you. When isn’t he thinking of you nowadays? When Taehyung doesn’t reply, Jimin presses him, “Will you look her up?”

Taehyung opens his eyes and rolls his head to meet Jimin’s concerned face, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know yet. I don’t even know where on Jeju she lives. I don’t think she’d want to see me, especially if she’s really ill. I wouldn’t want to upset her.”

Across the aisle and down a row or two, Hyungsik’s gentle laugh drifts back, “How do you feel about him being here this weekend?”

Taehyung shrugs, “It is what it is. Keeps her busy, I suppose.”

Jimin nods, “Makes things easier.”

Taehyung nods while his heart seems to constrict: It doesn’t make anything easier, not really, he thinks, all it is is another blow to his already bruised heart.

When the plane has landed, he’s glad to find that he doesn’t need to share a taxi to the villa that has been booked out for Hobi’s birthday with you. When the fleet of taxis arrive to nobody’s real surprise, workaholic Yoongi has already arrived and brought his dedicated assistant with him, which throws the rooming plans into disarray. Taehyung is relieved to find he keeps his single room, whilst you, ever magnanimous, agree to share the double with Yoongi’s assistant whilst Hyungsik shares the twin with Yoongi. The poor girl initially protests that she doesn’t mind sharing the twin with her boss, but you know her boyfriend won’t appreciate it, and it’s likely that Yoongi will wake her in the small hours of the morning with work ideas. Taehyung’s careful to keep his expression neutral, disguising the momentary happiness he feels at you and Hyungsik being separated.

After unpacking, you all settle into the villa. It’s been weeks since Taehyung’s seen you and he wonders how you’ll respond to him. It doesn’t take him long to find out. In the kitchen he finds you stacking the fridge, trying to be helpful he picks up the last few items on the counter top to pass to you. Sensing someone behind you, you turn and face him; he finds that the chill from the open fridge has nothing on that emanating from you.

“Thanks,” you offer tersely, taking the items from him and turning your back on him. He hovers for a moment, and without turning again you dismiss him, “I’ve got this, you can get on with whatever you were doing.”

Taehyung is surprised, you’ve never been like this with him. In fact, he’s never seen you like this with anyone, you’re always so polite, even to people you can’t stand, but now your tone of voice cuts like jagged glass. He says your name gently, persuasively, “Can’t we be civil? For Hobi’s sake?”

Finished with the fridge and out of excuses, you turn to look at him, “This is me being civil, Taehyung,” you say levelly, “We’re not friends, why should I be friendly with you?”

“Maybe I went too far that night,” he admits, “I get that you’re pissed at me, but this is for Hobi, can’t we get along?”

“Apologise.”

“Sorry?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“That’s a question, not an apology,” you state patiently, “If you want to play nicely this week then you should apologise for how rude you were to me. I’m sorry that my friendship was so hard to bear, but I know I was a good friend to you for fucking years Taehyung, despite what you might think now. And how did you repay the years where you actually valued my friendship before it became a burden to you? Did you have an honest conversation with me? No! Instead, you ghosted me like some kind of sad, clingy girlfriend and then tried to gaslight me about it. I deserved, I deserve , more respect than that.”

Taehyung watches as you take a deep breath, clearly relieved at having unburdened yourself. He knows what you’re like, knows you must have rehearsed this moment nervously, preparing to confront him. He can see the nervous energy pumping through you. He wants to tell you that he’s proud of you for standing up for yourself, but he knows you don’t want to hear that from him of all people so he’s silent for a moment, while you relax after the surge of adrenaline.

“I’m sorry,” he affirms honestly, “I behaved badly and -”

“Thank you,” you interrupt, “Let’s be civil then,” you leave without looking at him again and his heart aches. Outside the kitchen, you pass Hyungsik, who turns to follow you, winking his approval to you after being the audience for the rehearsals of your speech.

Later in the evening, Taehyung is clearing the dishes after dinner with Yoongi, and he can’t stop himself bringing you up. You and Hyungsik missed dinner, maybe Yoongi, sharing a room with your boyfriend, will have answers. Taehyung burns to know; somehow your absence is more painful than your presence.

“I dunno,” Yoongi shrugs, “They were going for a walk, maybe they decided to eat out? Maybe they just want some private time together because they can’t share a room? You know the early stages of relationships…” he suggests sensibly.

The turmoil within Taehyung is anything but sensible, “I guess,” he mutters though it feels like the words choke him.

“Hmm,” nods Yoongi. For long moments, nothing is said as they wash, dry and sort dishes. Eventually, as they finish up, Yoongi lowers his voice, “Look, Tae, if you ever want to talk about whatever has happened, you can talk to me.”

Taehyung is confused, “What do you mean?” he asks, laughing to dispel his unease.

Yoongi’s face is poker straight, “I’m not an idiot, Tae. I can tell how jealous you are of Hyungsik and I’ve suspected for a long time how you feel about her. I’m not going to say anything to anyone, but if you want to talk, you know where to find me,” with a firm clap to Taehyung’s shoulder, he leaves a stricken Taehyung in his wake.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Hyejin directs her face to the cloudless sky, bathing in the warmth of the sun. Beside her, you stretch your cramped legs, “It’s taking him a long time - do you think I should help him?” you offer.

“I’ll go,” Hyungsik and Namjoon offer simultaneously, but Hyungsik is already climbing out of the back of the Jeep, “Oh wait, here he comes,” he says, sounding confused.

An ashen Hobi clambers behind the steering wheel, saying nothing.

“Where are the ice creams?” Namjoon asks, “Is everything ok?”

“We have to go back to the villa, I need to talk to Taehyung,” is all he can offer. He glances at you as he looks back over his shoulder to reverse out, offering an explanation that silences everyone, “Hana’s here.”

You feel instantly sick.

When you arrive back, Hobi disappears with Jimin into Tae’s room and a hushed, uncomfortable quiet descends over the villa until Taehyung emerges, the keys to the jeep clutched in his fist before he hares off in the direction of the town.

After long hours, when everyone else is in bed, Jimin heads out with Hobi to look for Taehyung. They’ve not been gone long when he returns, and stalks past you and Hyungsik, the two of you cuddled under a blanket on the veranda.

“Go and talk to him,” Hyungsik encourages, “I know you’re worried about him and I think he might need a friend.”

“We’re not friends,” you argue, “I doubt he wants to see me.”

“I think he needs you,” Hyungsik insists, “We wouldn’t still be on this veranda in the cold waiting for him to get back if you didn’t care,” he reasons sensibly. You take a moment to think; ever since you arrived you’ve felt on edge. It’s not just your crossed words with Taehyung previously, it’s that, after all this time, you’re still weak for him. Seeing him at the airport in his loose sleeveless tee and ripped jeans, all insouciant cool with his tousled blond hair, you found it hard to keep your eyes off him; you hate that he has that effect on you. Nonetheless, your crush to one side, and your argument, you cannot deny the years of friendship that all to you. Your love for Taehyung is settled deep within your bones, an undeniable part of yourself written into your very marrow. You can’t let him suffer alone. With a huff, you reluctantly trail Taehyung to his room.

His bedroom door is ajar, and his face is drawn and agonised as he paces aimlessly. You hover in the doorway for a moment, unsure of what to say, “Taehyung, is there anything I can do?”

He looks at you for a long moment, his eyes a tempest of warring emotions. Then, without a word he reaches for the door, catching the edge in his fingertips, and slams it in your face, the wood missing your face by mere centimetres. You yelp in shock and begin to cry instinctively, staggering backwards. Hyungsik is quick to rush to you, guiding you away and back to the veranda.

“Let’s take a walk,” he suggests gently, “Don’t cry, it’s ok… Let’s go to the beach, yeah?”

Behind his shut door, Taehyung listens as silent tears track down his cheeks.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The next day, Taehyung’s door remains locked. When lunchtime comes and goes, Jimin decides he’s had enough, grabbing the keys and heading to the ice cream parlour for himself.

He strides into the parlour, prepared for anything and there she is: Kwon Hana, the architect of Taehyung’s unhappiness. She is smiling brightly behind the counter in her neat pink uniform, her cheeks rosy, the picture of good health.

Her bright smile only falls when she recognises Jimin, “Great, now you too,” she complains, “Meet me outside, I’m on my break in 15.”

When she emerges, he’s tempted to squash the ice cream she brings him all across her white apron, but he restrains himself. He doesn’t thank her, instead intoning sarcastically, “I see you’ve had a miraculous recovery, Hana…”

With a roll of her eyes she admits everything. She’s petulant and largely unapologetic, “I’ve already had this conversation with Taehyung, Jimin,” she complains, “Yeah, it was wrong to lie, blah blah blah, but it’s done now.”

He pushes her and she capitulates, telling the whole story of her break up with Taehyung: she had known that her and Taehyung were on the rocks, she just wanted to get away, to return home to her family and so, upset and jealous, she lied. She couldn’t bear the thought that with her out of the picture, Taehyung would obviously find his way to the arms of his friend, the one he was so clearly hung up on. Spitefully, she blames you and Taehyung, arguing that you two were so obvious and made her feel terrible and jealous - was it so bad to want revenge?

Disgusted, Jimin discards his melting ice cream, shaking the drips from his hand, “You are an awful person,” he states, shocked that she could be so cruel. Shaking his head despairingly, he heads back to the villa to talk to Taehyung.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The villa is empty, a peaceful silence laying over it: everyone is at the beach or out somewhere doing something else. Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s grateful to be left alone. He lies in bed, the sheet pulled over his head as he mulls over everything that happened yesterday.

He ignores the soft knocks at his door, even when the door opens and closes gently before someone slips inside. He says nothing as the sheet is lifted and a warm body slides into the bed, spooning against his back, a hand creeping across the bare skin of his chest to rest on his heart.

Warm lips press into his shoulder, “Taehyung, everything is going to be ok,” you whisper.

He turns then, pulling you closer to him, his hungry mouth finding yours. He groans when he finds you responsive, pulling him closer. His hands yank at your clothes, desperate to feel your bare skin against his. He thrusts his thigh between yours and you grind on it, gasping with pleasure into his mouth. Smiling, he bites at your lip before a harder knock at the door pulls his attention.

“Shhh,” you whisper, giggling into his mouth, “Just ignore it, I need you, Tae…” Taehyung smiles back at you, closing his eyes and kissing you deeply.

Another insistent knock comes, then the door opens. Taehyung’s eyes fly open as the sheet is pulled from over his head, “Taehyung, wake up!” Jimin almost shouts.

Taehyung groans and rolls onto his back, careful to pull the sheet into a protective ball over his crotch, concealing his throbbing erection.

Jimin, who wasn’t born yesterday, smirks, “Oh, did I interrupt a good dream? Sorry…”

Taehyung flushes, “Don’t worry,” he mutters. He means it; the dream is not a rare one. Over the years of your friendship, he’s lost count of all the different ways you and he have fucked in his sleeping mind. The wet dreams he can handle, what destroys him though is the grief of waking: in all his dreams the two of you aren’t just fucking, you are in love, and the absence of that when he joins the conscious world is a heavy blow to his heart.

“Time to get up,” Jimin insists, “We need to talk about Hana, I’ve just come from seeing her. She told me what she told you, or so she says. Are you ok?”

“Everything’s fucked,” Taehyung sighs, sitting up and burying his head in his hands, as he recounts pretty much the same conversation Jimin had with her. Stretching uncomfortably, Taehyung admits he really needs to talk to you, but doesn’t know what to say.

“After you slammed a door in her face?” Jimin asks. When Taehyung looks confused, Jimin shrugs, “Hyungsik told me last night.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung admits, “I have to apologise for that, but that’s easier than the rest of what I have to say. Y’know, when I’d spoken to Hana, I sat in the car park processing it and couldn’t stop staring at this little furniture store down the road. Then I started crying and I couldn’t stop.”

Jimin sits on the edge of the bed and smiles sympathetically, “Was it the furniture or Hana that upset you more?”

Taehyung laughs, “Neither,” he explains before elaborating. He tells Jimin about a time that you, Yoongi and he went to a furniture store with Namjoon to help him find a new desk. Taehyung explains that it was years ago, when he was really poor and hungry in search of a job. You must have noticed his sad gaze as he watched Yoongi finish snacks in the car, or his rumbling stomach. Either way, when you all arrived, you made a big fuss about needing to use a bathroom, explaining that you were getting your period. Taehyung knew it was a lie, because you’d had it the week before, you’d watched movies all weekend together with a hot water bottle…

He goes on to explain that you insisted the convenience store opposite the furniture store didn’t look safe and asked Taehyung to come with you. Uncomfortable with the period talk, Yoongi and Namjoon decided to start browsing without you whilst Taehyung followed you. When he got into the store, you made up some excuse about needing to spend a certain amount before they’d let you use the toilet, so you’d bought him his favourite ramyeon and snacks.

“The thing was,” Taehyung says, his voice catching a little, “There were so many ways to feed me, but she chose the one that made it seem like she owed me something, as though she was repaying me for a favour. She knew I’d be embarrassed and concocted this clever plan. She always did things like that, always looked out for me…” he trails off.

Jimin smiles gently, “You guys were really good friends, I know. Maybe now that the Hana curse is lifted you can be her friend again without feeling guilty?”

Taehyung shakes his head sadly, “That’s not it,” he explains, his lower lip trembling slightly, “I was single back then, she’d just started dating some guy she worked with, but even then I knew . She did that for me, and I made sure she knew that I was grateful but I was still a coward - I should have just told her then.”

“Told her what?” Jimin asks, nonplussed.

Taehyung, fraught with emotion, doesn’t really process Jimin’s words, instead his thoughts continue to spill freely from his lips, “How do I explain myself now, though? What do I say? ‘Hey, I know you’ve got Hyungsik who you obviously are really happy with, but I love you more than life itself and thought maybe you’d chuck it all in for me even though I couldn’t ever sacrifice anything for you?’ Yeah…” he scoffs, “Can’t see her buying that…”

Jimin stares at him, mouth open.

“What?” Taehyung asks, confused.

“ What?! ” Jimin shrieks, repeating Taehyung’s question in a strangled, squeaky voice, causing Taehyung to flinch. Clearing his throat, Jimin continues, “You love her? What? I thought Hana was upset with you because you had a bit of a crush on her, I know there was always a tension between you two, but I didn’t know that you’d been pining over her for years! You were really in love with her? All that time? You still are?”

Taehyung is the opposite of the unsettled Jimin. With the truth exposed, he feels calm and rational, “Of course I did and I still do,” he says calmly, “And now there are no more promises to keep, but how can I tell her? Hyungsik isn’t going anywhere, the lanky smug bastard.”

Jimin gapes at him, “Get dressed, we need to assemble and get this all out in the open.”

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

On the beach, Namjoon, Hyejin, Hobi, Yoongi and Jimin sit in a circle, waiting for Taehyung. When he arrives, exhausted and tense, Jimin unfolds the whole sorry tale from start to finish, ending with Taehyung’s dilemma.

Hyejin interrupts, “I think you have the wrong dilemma,” she explains, “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but can I be frank with you?”

Taehyung nods, “Go ahead.”

“The real dilemma should be how you come back from how you’ve treated her, not whether she is with someone else or not, which she isn’t anyway.”

Taehyung nods, “I know, I know I’ve got loads to make up for, wait -“ he pauses, eyes-widening, “What do you mean she’s not with anyone?”

Hyejin smiles, “She’s not with Hyungsik, never has been - they’re just friends. Can I be honest again?” Taehyung nods again, waving a hand permissively, “They never clicked romantically but they became friends really quickly, almost like there was this void in her life where a best friend had been…” she intones a little sarcastically.

“Ok, ok, ok,” Taehyung nods, “I get it…”

Satisfied, Hyejin continues, “I’m not sure if they’re as close as you two once were, but they are really good friends. He’s good for her; she’s good for him. I was rooting for them. I hoped that their friendship might turn into something more.”

Taehyung groans, “I don’t know what to do,” he says, panicking, “I want her to be happy but I want to be the man who makes that happen, not him, no matter how nice he is…”

Hobi smiles gently, “Well, let’s take some time to figure it out. There’s lots of time.”

Taehyung is jittery in response, “I need to see her though. I have to apologise for last night. I need to see her! Where is she?”

Furtive looks pass around his friends, but it’s Namjoon who breaks the news, “She’s gone, Tae,” Taehyung sits stock still as he looks to him for further explanation. Namjoon elaborates, “After last night she realised something big had gone down between you and Hana and decided that it would be better if she wasn’t around. She might not know the truth, but she knew she was an issue for Hana, so she thought it best to go.”

“Where?” is all Taehyung can utter.

“They’ve gone to Busan - Hyungsik has family there and they wanted to continue their holiday so they’re going there instead,” Hyejin explains.

“On holiday with his family?” Taehyung asks, his voice unnaturally high, “Are you sure there’s nothing between them because it feels like visiting the family is a couple thing. A holiday with the family is the kind of time when people fall for each other - you see it all the time in stupid romantic movies!”

“Calm down, Taehyung,” Yoongi says calmly, “You’re spiralling.”

Hyejin speaks kindly, “Is that how you fell for her? On a holiday?”

Taehyung smiles despite himself, “No, that wasn’t it,” he admits.

“When was it then, Tae?” Yoongi prompts, “How long have you known?”

“I’ve always loved her,” he confesses, “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love her, it’s been so long. It was never our time though, she was dating or I was, or we both were. Our timelines have never aligned.”

“Until now,” Yoongi suggests, “They do now .”

Taehyung grins, smiling beatifically and crying floods of tears at the same time, in an outpouring of years of repressed feeling. Beside him, Jimin pulls him into a hug, letting Taehyung cry it out as his friends encircle and support him.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung’s phone feels heavy in his hand as he waits for you to reply to his apology and request to talk. When his phone eventually buzzes, he can barely bring himself to read it, raising his phone to unlock with trembling hands: 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 - 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘬. 𝘚𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘬’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘞𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩? 𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘢, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘑𝘦𝘫𝘶!

He passes the phone silently to Jimin, who shows it to Hyejin, “Are you sure she’s just friends with Hyungsik?” Jimin asks nervously.

Taehyung is paying no attention, all he can think of is your devastated face that night in Namjoon’s kitchen when he told you that you suffocated him and his gut twists in shame. He fears that Hyejin was right earlier: his real dilemma is finding a way back after how he’s treated you.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

A woman with thin eyebrows and a line for a mouth flares her nostrils, a warning prequel to the snort of disapproval that follows. Taehyung doesn’t care, her judgement means nothing to him and it does nothing to stop the nervous tattoo that his long fingers beat against the Formica table.

Behind the counter, the elderly couple that run the little canteen (calling it a restaurant would be generous) shuffle about, clearly watching him and speculating about what would make such a fine young man so terribly nervous.

It’s taken weeks to get to this moment; ever since you all returned from holiday you’ve solidly avoided him, coming up with excuse after excuse why you can’t. Eventually, through the interference of your mutual friends, you have been cajoled into meeting him briefly at this little canteen.

Suddenly, the old woman nudges her husband in the ribs as the young man suddenly stops, frozen in mid movement. It’s a strange thing, in his frozen state that he looks more alive than he did when he was thrumming with movement: his eyes sparkle as a wide, square smile lights up his face and squeezes his eyes closed in an expression of pure joy. They both turn their attention to the door where a woman, visibly nervous, moves towards him.The elderly couple share a knowing look that simply says ‘young love.’

At Taehyung’s table, the conversation is stiff and awkward, he asks you about Hyungsik, baiting questions designed to make you confess that the two of you aren’t together, but they all fail, leaving him only a direct path.

“It’s a big stage meeting the boyfriend’s family,” he says gently, “I hope they treated you well.”

“It’s not like that between us,” you admit quietly, “His family were lovely though. They’re all like him - generous, kind, thoughtful people.”

Taehyung nods, “Oh, well as long as you’re happy. I thought that he seemed very interested in you.”

You hum thoughtfully, evading his prying questions. How do you tell Taehyung that Hyungsik quickly dismissed the idea of anything romantic happening between you two? That he told you early on that he had too much self-respect to be the back-up option to an unavailable man? You can’t say that, so you say nothing.

“May I ask about Hana?” you say tentatively and he flinches to hear the trepidation in your voice, your words edged with the memories of how he’s spoken to you each time she’s come up.

He frowns, “Hana never made me happy. I don’t want to go into why our ending was so complicated, but it was and it never should have been. I’ve wasted so much time because of her. She is a terrible person.”

You look at him in confusion, wondering where all this could be coming from. You’re surprised by how much he seems to dislike her until you remember how he’s spoken to you in the past. Is this how he’s spoken about you to others? Have he and Jimin sat together while he explains how needy and irritating he finds you? You feel sick at the thought. Collecting yourself, you swallow and force yourself to speak, “Well, I’m glad you’re able to move on now.”

Taehyung smiles, “I am,” he reaches for your hand, “I have a lot of things to put right too. You and I have a lot of things to talk about.”

Cold panic curls in your gut. There’s something in his eyes and the touch of his hand that suggests there’s more to his words. Hyungsik’s words drift through your mind and you realise you feel the same: you don’t want to be Taehyung’s second best, his leftover option.

“Well,” you say gently, sliding your hand from under his, “We don’t need to rush anything, our friendship will regrow naturally. I’m happy for you though, that you can start having fun again and dating. I hope you meet someone that makes you happier than she did.”

Waves of nausea roll over Taehyung as he realises what you’re saying. You are rejecting him, you may be doing so gently, but the meaning couldn’t be clearer. You don’t want him and you don’t want his friendship. His eyes fill as you make excuses about why you need to go, shrug on your coat as you say you’ll catch up soon. You wish him well and leave, in a hurried dervish of action.

Heart throbbing in pain, he calls Jimin and recounts the disaster that has been his botched confession and your rejection, “You should have heard her breezing out of here cheerfully, like she didn’t just break my fuck-, break my heart,” he hisses, remembering where he is. When he hangs up, promising Jimin he’ll head straight over, his attention is called by the old woman, who tells him that you paid for his snacks and drink when you left, but maybe too much.

“My eyes aren’t what they used to be,” she says kindly, “Could you check these numbers?” Oddly, instead of passing him the receipt, she leads him around the counter and he does as she asks.

Confirming all is in order, he begins to move away but she holds his sleeve, her eyes flickering to the monitor beside the till several times, “Sometimes things are not what they seem,” she whispers.

Taehyung looks at the screen, his pulse racing as he turns to the old woman, “Where’s that alley?”

“Directly behind us, she didn’t make it far,” she replies, indicating at the CCTV of the rear alley where you lean against the wall, hand clutching your heart as you cry your eyes out, “Go on then, get after her!”

Taehyung nods, gathering his things and rushing out. Yet, as he turns the corner, he watches you emerge from the alley, slipping into a car that’s just pulled up. The door closes with a dull thunk before he can even say your name.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Hobi, Namjoon and Yoongi meet at the entrance to Taehyung’s apartment, wondering together why they have been summoned with such desperation by Jimin, fearing Taehyung may have done something stupid.

Jimin answers the door with a grateful smile, “Thank God you’re here. He’s driving me absolutely crazy. Prepare yourselves.”

Over the next few hours they pour over the situation with you from every angle, each of them concluding something different. Namjoon thinks Taehyung should listen to you and let things grow naturally, letting love blossom again; Hobi thinks Taehyung should try again and confess everything, especially about Hana, certain that love will find a way; Jimin thinks Taehyung should let you go. It’s Yoongi who speaks last.

“I think there are two questions you need an answer to first before you can even choose the best thing to do,” he explains, whilst Taehyung listens, rapt, “Did she love you before and, if she did, does she still love you now?”

Taehyung swallows, “I don’t know the answer to either of those things.”

With the smallest clear of his throat, Hobi shuffles his feet awkwardly, “I know the answer to the first one,” he admits.

Taehyung looks at him with desperate eyes and Hobi recounts a moment with you.

“Ok, so one night we’d been out, all of us. You and Hana had been arguing in the club and we could all guess who it was about you know who… So she just wanted to get out of there, to stop things escalating and to remove the problem, I guess. She only ever thought of you, Tae, what you needed, what would make things easier for you…”

Tae’s eyes well up as he nods his understanding, pleading for Hobi to go on.

“So we decided to go eat noodles and then I’d walk her home. We didn’t talk about you very much, we drank a lot more outside the convenience store and we’re both quite drunk by the time we were getting to her house. Anyway, as she was unlocking her door she said that she felt bad for you and Hana and wished you two would be happier. I guess I must have looked a little surprised because she laughed and said, ‘I know you know, Hobi!’ I played dumb, but then she said it straight out, what was it she said? I think it was, ‘I know everyone probably knows how I feel about him. You don’t have to feel sorry for me, I realised years ago that it was never going to happen. It’s fine, I still want him to be happy though.’ It was something like that. I tried to talk to her about it, but she said that it had to remain an unspoken thing or your friendship would fall apart, so we agreed never to speak of it again, and we never have.”

A moment of silence falls over them before Jimin speaks, “I’d like to change my position - I agree with Namjoon now.”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung and sees the hope kindled in his eyes, ‘Actually, I’m with Hobi,” he asserts, “Talk to her, both of you should be totally honest with each other and take it from there.”

“I don’t think I can persuade her into meeting me again,” Taehyung admits.

Hobi smiles, “Don’t worry. I can set something up.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“Ok, ok,” Hobi begins over the phone, “I called her and I know where she is right now.”

A short conversation follows, where Taehyung mostly reassures Hobi he’s doing the right thing by deceiving you and that it’s for the best. Taehyung thanks him and as soon as he hangs up he looks up the café where Hobi has said you are, having never heard of it. Despite his best intentions, since your disastrous meeting, you’ve been hard to find; the listing for the bookshop with a tiny café explains why; you’ve obviously taken to hanging out on the other side of the city. Taehyung wonders if maybe he should take a hint from that… Does it mean that you want to be far away from him? He concludes that, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. He can’t let go of you; if you want rid of him you’re going to have to tell him that to his face.

When he’s finally crossed the city, he follows the map on his phone with single-minded determination; he’s worried you won’t still be there by the time he arrives. How much time can anyone while away in such a place? Yet, as he climbs the rickety spiral staircase edged with books that the heavily burdened shelves can’t accommodate, he realises that you could easily spend hours here. Following the gentle aroma of sweet, spiced tea, he finds the small café at the back of the second floor; it looks over a park where the fanned leaves of ginkgo are now edged in gold.

You don’t notice his arrival, your head is pressed to the glass as you stare outside; your headphones are in and you are lost in thought. He crosses to you quietly and takes a seat, which you finally take notice of out of the corner of your eye. As you turn, he watches the emotions play out across your face; surprise, worry, panic.

With fumbling fingers you remove your headphones as he smiles, “Sorry for startling you,” he apologises as you drop your headphones, “I didn’t mean to make you flustered.”

You blush then, “I didn’t expect to see you-, see anyone, here,” you mumble, correcting yourself.

“Have I invaded your sanctuary?” he asks, half-teasingly, half-genuinely.

You smile weakly, “A little, but it’s ok. What are you doing here?” you ask, still too puzzled and flustered to notice how blunt you’re being.

He presses his lips together, “Ah, yes… I’m sorry, but I think I might fluster you again,” he apologises, noticing the look of panic flash across your eyes again, “I came here to find you because we have more to talk about and I want to know why, when I suggested that you and I needed to talk about us, that you shot me down without any hesitation.”

You stare at him, open-mouthed at his bold statement. You have no idea how to deal with his frankness without being honest yourself, so you try to take a gamble, “I didn’t understand where it could be leading, the words you were using sounded…” you trail off as your courage fails you, trying to avoid saying what you mean.

“Where I was leading?” he repeats, “Ah, saying we need to talk about ‘us’ sounded like I meant something more than friends? Like I meant something romantic?” he prompts, wanting to help you out and desperate to lead the conversation to where he wants it to go.

��Well, yes,” you say awkwardly, looking into your lap, “And I know that’s not what you meant at all.”

He waits for you to stop twisting your hands and look at him, “It’s exactly what I meant,” he says, his eyes staring into yours, “I want to talk about giving us a chance.”

You tremble slightly as you pull your cardigan from the back of your chair and put it on to distract from your nerves, “Us?” you repeat dumbly.

“Let’s be honest with each other,” Taehyung insists, “When we met in that canteen you knew what I was trying to suggest and you ran a mile. I know you’re shy but don’t pretend now that you don’t know what I mean.”

You swallow, your voice a little bit stronger when you reply, “There isn’t an ‘us’ though is there? Not even as friends anymore - I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” you begin, avoiding his gaze, “I don’t know what it is you think I can offer you, but you’re wrong. I know you must be hurting from whatever happened with Hana, but looking backwards to the past for comfort isn’t the solution. You should move forward - I’m not sure what it is you’re hoping for, but it’s not me.”

Again he waits in silence for you to look at him before he responds. So, you did know what he meant in the canteen…He wants to chuckle slightly at what he knows to be another one of your obviously rehearsed responses; after your last meeting you clearly have prepared for any possible follow-up conversation.

Taehyung is unperturbed, in fact, he’s relieved; everything you’ve said so far has been about disbelieving that he is genuine, nothing you’ve said has been about your own feelings. If you don’t have feelings for him, surely you would just say that? he reasons; the very fact that you’re being evasive makes him hope that you do have feelings for him. He’s certain he can coax the truth out of you if he presses on.

When you finally raise your eyes to his, he smiles gently, “What I’m hoping for is you,” he emphasises, “I want you. More than anything, I wish that you would love me again.”

You say nothing for a moment, dumbstruck. Then he watches the cogs spinning in your mind as you try to work out how to reply. When you do, your voice is soft, “I will always love you, Taehyung,” you admit, “Just because we’re not as close as we once were doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

You’re not going to admit it, he realises, Not yet. You’re going to continue evading and misinterpreting his words and if he pushes you too hard, you might just run again.

He takes another approach, “Good! I’m glad you still love me because I love you too,” he smiles, hoping you listen to the truth of that, not just your chosen interpretation of friendship, “So let’s rebuild our friendship, then. Come home with me, let’s watch a movie at mine, like we used to, I’ll order us dinner.”

Thrown off balance by the change in direction and the whole conversation, you blindly submit. Taehyung is quick to gather your things and bundle you out of the shop before you can change your mind. On the train journey back across the city to his apartment, you accept his offer of his shoulder and rest your head; as you relax against him you can’t help but admit to yourself that you’re not simply following along. Your heart is beating rapidly because you hope, beyond all reason, that he does actually want to be with you and all of this isn’t as mad as it seems.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

You awaken to the sense of being lowered into the clouds; your tired eyes open to find Taehyung above you, his arms slipping from under you as you sink into the softness of his bed.

“Ah, you woke up!” he smiles, “Go back to sleep baby, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

True to his word, the evening had been just like one from the past, you’d watched a film, slowly relaxing, then talked about nonsense and nothing of importance. You ate and laughed together until your heavy lids and exhaustion from so many different feelings had got the better of you.

“You hate sleeping on the couch,” you mumble sleepily, “It’s not comfortable.”

He sits on the bed beside you, stroking your hair from your eyes with long fingers, “Well then I can’t let you sleep there then, can I?”

Your eyes flutter open a little wider, “Just stay here then, we’ve shared before.”

“That wouldn’t be more uncomfortable for you?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You swallow, trying to be brave, “No, I want you to stay.”

He nods, smiling, before he gets up and pulls some clothes for you and him from a drawer, “Ok, I’ll change outside. There’s a spare toothbrush in the vanity if you want to wash up,” he says, indicating the en-suite.

When he re-enters, you’re already cuddled up in bed in one of his large tees, making him smile. When he gets out of the bathroom, he climbs in beside you, pulling your sleepy body into his embrace.

You’ve missed this, you realise, the closeness with him. Never, in all the time that he’s distanced himself from you have you been able to stop loving him. Yes, you’re nervous that whatever happened with Hana has affected him and that this desire to be with you is just a moment of madness, a weird sort of rebound and that he’ll come to regret it. Yet a voice nags at you, What if he doesn’t regret it? What if one thing leads to another and he falls for you like you fell for him all those years ago?

Taehyung can tell you’re thinking furiously, your mind disturbed and so he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, drawing a happy little hum of contentment from you, “I’ve missed you,” he breathes quietly.

Your mind roars at you, Why do you always give up what you want, staying silent through years of Taehyung dating other women? Why did you force yourself to give him space when it was obvious Hana hated you instead of telling him she wasn’t good enough for him? Why should you deny yourself this moment with him when he’s all that you want? When he’s all that you’ve ever wanted? Fuck it… you resolve.

“I’ve missed you too,” you breathe back.

“Can I spoon you?” he asks, boldly kissing the tip of your nose in a gentle peck.

Your eyes open as you nod. Your heart flutters as you build the courage to kiss the tip of his nose, right on his little mole, in return.

Taehyung’s eyes widen before he leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth tenderly, hoping against hope that he’s not going too far.

This time you don’t pause: you swipe your mouth over his and kiss him softly, capturing the full pout of his lower lip between yours. He kisses you back and soon one kiss melts into another; his minty tongue flicking against your lips to plead entry. Soon you are making out, slowly and full of gentle hesitation. Moments stretch into minutes as you hold each other, your hands wandering over each other’s hair, arms and back. The kisses don’t heat up: nothing that’s happening now is about lust or desire, this is you telling Taehyung you love him and him telling you he loves you in return.

When you break apart, lips puffy, both blushing, all idea of spooning is abandoned, your limbs entangling as you pull each other closer, too shy to speak of what’s happened, melting into each other as sleep claims you.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung wakes to feel you gently hovering over his body as you try to climb from the bed, he seizes your waist in his firm hold, “Where are you going?” he grumbles, not yet opening his eyes.

“To the bathroom,” you reply dryly. He doesn’t care, please that you didn’t flinch from his touch.

“Then come back immediately,” he commands, his eyes opening and you nod, blushing.

When you come back, he stands to greet you, kissing the top of your head and making room for you to get back into bed. His heart beats a little faster, realising you’ve brushed your teeth again and he hopes it’s in readiness for more kissing, not you washing away those from the night before in regret.

When he returns and climbs in beside you, you look nervous. He strokes your face with the back of his fingers, “I need to tell you what happened with Hana,” he begins, “It’s important.”

You nod and he does: he begins with admitting he has been in love with you for longer than he can remember and everything follows from there, all the mess with Hana; the promise he made; what he found out on Jeju; finding out from Hobi that you once had loved him too; all of it.

As he talks he sits up in bed, finding a comfortable position and you cuddle into his side, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart as he tells you everything. Over the course of his retelling, the tattoo of his heart gives way to the soft growling of his stomach.

When he finishes, you sit up and look at him as he awaits your response, “Let’s get breakfast,” is all you can say, temporarily overwhelmed by all he has told you, “There’s a lot to process and a lot to talk about.”

Taehyung looks crestfallen, and your heart, so in tune with his now, throbs in sympathy. Without thinking you straddle him, cupping his face and kissing his nose, “Thank you for being honest with me.”

He tilts his head, “Will you be honest with me too?” he asks, taking your hands in his and swinging them side to side.

“I have been,” you protest as he frowns.

”Can you love me again?” he asks.

“I told you yesterday that I’d always love you Tae, that was the truth,” you admit, looking away shyly, “I’ve never stopped.”

Before he can speak, you kiss him again. He’s quick to release your hands, wrapping them around you so he can guide you onto your back as he deepens the kiss.

“What about breakfast?” you ask as his hungry mouth finds your neck.

“Fuck breakfast,“ is the muffled reply you receive as his mouth finds yours again.

Like the night before, each kiss melts into the next. Unlike last night though, with love admitted and freely spoken, desire edges into your embrace, gilding your edges with a simmering heat that builds in warmth and intensity drawing your bodies ever closer together.

After so long of dreaming of each other, of years of longing and unanswered need, what follows isn’t the choreographed routine of two lovers who know each other’s bodies. Instead, as you kiss and grind against each other, your clothes seem to slowly fall away, either shrugged off by or pulled away by the other: Taehyung sucks a bruise into your neck as you shimmy his boxers down before he kicks them off, you giggle into the sharp bone of his clavicle as his fingers hook into the elastic of your underwear.

You gasp into his mouth when he guides his cock into you, and tremble beneath him as he fucks into you, your bodies melded together with each deep, slow thrust. Your hands grip at his back and hair as your legs wrap around his waist. His slow grind ensures you come before he does, gasping his name as he sloppily kisses your cheek; he raises himself then, grinning down at you, glowing with sweat and breathless as he chases his high, you cling to his arms, smiling and gasping as, with a groan, the tendons of his neck tense. He thrusts your bodies as close as he can, driving deep into you, his balls pressed close as his cock pulses inside you. When the world resolves itself from pure ecstasy, he looks down at you in wonder as you look up at him with the same look: both of you silently saying the same thing.

When he slips from you and fetches a damp cloth to clean you up, you smile shyly at each other. He eases sweaty tendrils of hair from your flushed face, “I feel like a teenager,” he laughs.

You purse your lips and nod, “That was…” you don’t know how to finish the sentence, you want to say ‘sweet’ but it feels wrong.

Taehyung fills in for you, “Perfect and,” he pauses, “very overdue.”

“I love you,” you reply without missing a beat.

Taehyung grins in satisfaction, “I love you too,” the last syllable obscured by his rumbling stomach, causing you both to laugh again.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“Why can’t we tell our friends yet?” Taehyung asks, fluffing his hair out of his eyes with the back of his fingers as he checks himself out in your bedroom mirror.

“Because I just have the sense from Namjoon that the mystery weekend that he swept Hyejin off to was a ruse for a proposal,” you explain as you shimmy your dress over your hips, ready to meet your friends at the fancy restaurant that Namjoon has booked.

“Ah…” Taehyung smiles, “You think we’d steal their thunder?”

“I don’t think it’s a risk worth taking,” you admit.

Wordlessly, Taehyung appears behind you, helping you with the zip you’re struggling with, delivering a kiss to your shoulder, “You’re right,” he agrees.

“I wish we could though,” you admit, turning into his arms, “It’ll be hard to pretend we’re indifferent to each other.”

“Babe, that’s all that we were doing before,” he laughs, kissing you.

“True,” you admit, “But I don’t want to do that anymore, I want to hang out with you.”

“We should say we’ve resolved all the issues between us, and that we’re friends again,” he suggests, “Given that it was Hyejin who wanted to bring us together in the first place, it’ll be nice for her to know she helped.”

“That’s sweet,” you smile, flicking your nose against his chin; he takes the hint and kisses you again with a rumbling, low laugh.

When you break apart, he looks at you uncomfortably, “There is someone that I’d like you to tell though.”

“Hyungsik,” you supply and he nods awkwardly, “I understand, I’ll tell him tonight. You have to believe me that you two would really get along. Could you just hang out a bit with him tonight?”

Taehyung inclines his head graciously, “For you, I’ll try,” he submits, “But you have to remember that for months I’ve hated him on principle, it’s weird to let that go.”

“We never even kissed,” you say, rolling your eyes, “Your imagination did the rest.”

He laughs at that, “So you didn’t let me believe you two were dating in Jeju?”

You squirm, “Maybe a little bit…”

He laughs at your discomfort, before catching sight of the clock behind you, “C’mon babe, we’re going to be late.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

You were right, the dinner was a celebration of Namjoon and Hyejin’s engagement. Despite the happiness you feel for them, the dinner is a torturous affair. You sit with Hyungsik, away from Taehyung. After months of finding it too painful to look at him, now you ache trying not to. Being with him and not with him simultaneously is agony.

The opposite side of the room from you, Taehyung avoids looking at you at all costs. Though he is secure in the knowledge that there’s nothing between you and Hyungsik, he is nonetheless jealous that the other man gets to sit through three courses of your company before Taehyung is able to move around the table and get to you.

If not for his respect for Namjoon, he’d be declaring his love for you to anyone who asked and he would be sitting with you now, hand in hand beneath the table. Instead, he is lying through his teeth, batting away his friends’ questions about you, pretending that he is following Namjoon’s advice and slowly building your friendship back to where it should be. Largely their curiosity seems satisfied, except for Hobi, who scrutinises Taehyung carefully as he spins his fictions. Hobi can’t help but feel suspicious, especially when he sees you explaining something to Hyungsik that has him gasping into his hands before he beams at you. That in itself alerts Hobi that something is up, but it’s compounded by the way Hyungsik can’t seem to stop glancing over at Taehyung after it.

Later in the evening, Hobi shares his suspicions with Jimin as they sit, chairs pressed close beside each other. They watch carefully as Taehyung makes awkward and stilted conversation with the accommodating and smiley Hyungsik whilst you look nervously on.

“See?” Hobi indicates to Jimin, speaking out of the side of his mouth, “I think she knows how he feels, look at her - her attention is totally on Taehyung and how he’s reacting to Hyungsik…”

Jimin nods, “I see it. Do you think he’s confessed? How do you think she took it?”

“Oh boys,” Hyejin sighs, placing her hands on the backs of their chairs before leaning between them, “Would you like my take?”

Sliding across a chair, Jimin makes room and she joins their little observation panel between them. After a few moments, watching Taehyung’s spasming arm reach and withdraw from you repeatedly, she smirks, “Well, well…” she laughs, only explaining herself when Jimin implores her, “I’d say our Taehyungie has been telling fibs. I don’t think he’s followed Joon’s advice at all. I think he’s followed yours, Hobi,” she says, looking at the man beside her.

“Really? You think he has confessed?” Hobi smiles.

“I’m pretty sure,” she asserts, “I think he’s confessed and so has she. She’s told Hyungsik and now the boys are learning to play nicely.”

“Makes sense,” Hobi concurs, thinking of the earlier scene he witnessed, “But why not tell us?”

Jimin scoffs, “And steal all of our attention away from Namjoon and Hyejin? When the announcement was made Taehyung must have decided to lie.”

Hyejin’s brow furrows, “No, I don’t think so,” she muses, “She already had suspicions that Joonie was likely to propose - we’ve talked about it. I think she predicted what tonight was really about and they planned this in advance. That’s typical of her.”

They sit for a moment, smiling together before Hyejin giggles, “You know how we are all going to have brunch tomorrow?” she asks.

“We’re meeting at the café, yeah? The one by Taehyung’s place? At 11?” Jimin supplies.

“Let’s meet earlier… Let’s meet at 10, and at Taehyung’s place. Let’s have some fun with them.”

Jimin grins wickedly, “Hyejin, I like the way you think…”

Across the room, you, Taehyung and Hyungsik turn to follow the sound of laughter, watching as Hyejin, Hobi and Jimin cackle gleefully together.

“They’re plotting something,” Taehyung notices astutely.

“Hmm, they’re just missing a cauldron,” you offer.

“Something wicked this way comes…” suggests Hyungsik ominously.

The three of you turn to each other and laugh. Your heart lifts as Taehyung and Hyungsik smile, hoping this is the start of their friendship.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Soft music curls around you as you push up the overlong sleeves of one of Taehyung’s hoodies, before you turn the volume down a little more. He’s still fast asleep down the hall after last night’s dinner and you want to make breakfast without waking him.

You gingerly tread towards the fridge to gather the ingredients you need; your waddle is nothing to do with staying quiet, your bare feet make no noise against the cold tiles of the floor; no, your slow walk is far more to do with your bruised thighs and tender vagina. Pre-Taehyung it’d been a while since you last had sex and last night was a revelation: the gentle shyness of your first time together was a distant memory as soon as the door closed behind you.

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

As soon as your feet slipped from your heels, Taehyung pressed you against the door. His hot mouth on your neck and his hardening crotch grinding against you as your fingers tangle in his hair. His hands were quick to pull your dress up around your waist, his knee pressing against yours to guide your legs further apart.

He kissed you as he stroked you through the dampening silk of your underwear. You moaned into his mouth, and lust ran through his blood in hot waves, filling his cock as molten heat pooled in your core. His long fingers pushed your underwear to one side before he slid one, then two fingers into you, quickly working out how to curl them to draw the prettiest, most needy whines from you.

Quickly you were a trembling mess as neither his fingers nor his tongue relented. Feeling merciful, Taehyung broke from your mouth to attack your neck, letting free your chorus of moans and praise for him, “Feels so good, Tae, please don’t stop…”

He plunged his fingers a little faster into you as your hips began to grind against his hand, knowing he was getting you close, “Are you gonna come for me, baby?” he grinned, nipping your neck and maintaining his rhythm.

You nodded, begging for him, incoherent broken syllables of need and desire. He thought of stopping, wanting to insist that you came around his cock but he couldn’t bring himself to, too desperate to see you come undone for him. He carried on, fingering you to your shuddering orgasm and grinning as you whimpered and writhed against him.

He slid his fingers from you as you gasped and smiled at him, your eyes glazed as you came down from your high, “You good, babe?” he grinned as you hummed in contentment, reaching for his belt buckle.

As you sank to your knees, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines, he smiled down at you, shuddering with anticipation for what was to come as you breathed gently over the head of his cock, before your tongue gently teased the tip. The moan of pleasure he offered made you determined to draw more from him.

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

This morning, you smile at the memory of how he’d crumbled under the touch of your hands and mouth; his delighted surprise as you’d deep-throated him, his cockhead pressing against your throat; his delicious frustration as you’d teased him… It was glorious, but he paid you back tenfold for your fun. After coming down your throat, he practically dragged you to the bedroom where he ate you out until you screamed and then fucked you with your legs over your shoulders until all you could do was weakly babble his name.

As you prepare breakfast, sore as you are, you feel arousal begin to soak through your fresh underwear at the memory. You want him again. You can’t be close enough to Taehyung; no kiss is enough; no embrace enough. You’ve waited so long for him that now he’s yours you don’t want to let him go. Your need for him is only temporarily sated by the sensation of being filled by his cock. The tense, wonderful feeling of how hard he is, how tightly you fit around him, making you see stars and driving you to orgasm in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Distracting yourself with cooking, you don’t notice when Taehyung appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck while you’re at the stove.

“Smells delicious,” he praises, as you jump at the contact.

“It’s nearly ready,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him, “Go sit and I’ll bring it over,” you can’t help but grin as he ambles from the kitchen with heavy footed, sleepy steps, his eyes puffy as he yawns loudly.

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

After breakfast, dishes cleared and everything put away, any trace of tiredness Taehyung may have felt is long gone.

“You like that? Yeah?” he pants, “Can you feel how fucking hard you make me?”

Pinned beneath him on his couch, you moan out in pleasure as he drives into you, “Fuck, Taehyung, you feel so fucking good…”

He’s already fucked you once since breakfast, your underwear and his large tee discarded with his pyjamas across the dining table which he’d bent you over as you finished cleaning up. Afterwards, gentle cuddles on the couch had heated up until you’d straddled him, riding him to your orgasm. Impatient, after you’d come he was quick to throw you on your back so he could take you with the full force of his lust.

You can hear the slickness of his withdrawal before he thrusts inside you again; no matter how many times he fucks you, the stretch of him parting your walls is a heady mix of pain and pleasure that you’re already addicted to. In all your years of dreaming about him, you could never imagine it would feel like this. A new vocabulary needs to be invented for the things Taehyung does to you, fucking and coming are not enough to explain the pure euphoria and heights he can drive you to.

“You’re so fucking tight, babe… You’re driving me crazy,” he huffs out, confirming he feels it just as much as you do, “You were fucking made to take me… Fucking perfect...”

The pounding is relentless, he rocks back to sit up, without breaking rhythm, raising your hips so he can thrust deeper. You cry out at the new angle, it hurts but feels so, so good. In this position you can do nothing but take his relentless thrusts.

His thumb works your clit and you cry out, “I can’t,” you squirm pointlessly in your sensitivity, “Tae, I can’t… I can’t come again.”

“You can and you will, need you to come for me,” he pleads, before a wicked grin creeps across his face, “Wanna fill you up while you squeeze me…”

Arching your back, you squeeze around him, clenching your walls, “Ahhh,” he groans, “Nice try babe, but you’re gonna come for me…” he insists, working your clit more rapidly as his pace picks up, his high approaching.

It doesn’t take long for you to come undone, you cry out pitifully as you spasm around his length, “Fuck, that’s it, grip it just like that, fuckkkkkk,” Taehyung groans, slamming into you, his ball pressing against you as he comes, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you as he reaches his high.

A panting mess, he collapses onto you, chuckling into your neck, “You make me come so hard.”

Your sweat-slicked bodies stick together, yet you still wrap your arms around him, drawing him closer, hands tangling in his hair as he kisses you sloppily.

“What time is it?” You pant as he withdraws from you with a soft hiss.

“It’s just gone 10,” he checks, pulling tissues from the coffee table to clean you up, “Don’t worry we haven’t got to be there ’til 11,” he offers a hand to help ease your aching body up as a loud knock comes at the door.

You look at each other in panic as Taehyung puts his fingers to his lips.

Outside his door, Jimin, Hobi, Namjoon and Hyejin press their hands over their mouths not to laugh.

Nodding at them, Jimin raises his voice unnecessarily loudly, “Taehyung? You there, man?” When he receives no response, he lowers his volume, but makes sure he can definitely be heard from the other side of the door, “He must be out. I’m just gonna let myself in and grab my hoodie…”

They all suppress laughter as Jimin, with teasing slowness, enters the key code.

They step inside the apartment to the sound of Taehyung’s bedroom door slamming shut. The windows have been flung wide open, but the smell of sex lingers. Kicking their shoes off beside your heels from the night before their eyes land on Taehyung, bare chested in pyjama pants, clothes bundled in his arm. Eyes wide, he flings his hand, which so obviously has lacy women’s underwear in it, behind his back.

“Hi guys,” he offers gamely, trying to style it out, “What brings you here?”

“Needed my hoodie,” Jimin states bluntly, “You didn’t answer - I hope we haven’t interrupted something?” he asks, suppressing a smile.

“Just cleaning up,” Taehyung says, trying to shake his hair from his eyes.

“Are you ok?” Namjoon asks, in mock concern, “You look hot? It’s too cold to have the windows open, Tae - do you have a fever?” he steps forward with the back of his hand outstretched to feel Taehyung’s forehead.

In panic, Taehyung steps away, moving his hair out of his eyes without thought, using the hand in which your underwear hangs, “Fuck!” he yells, throwing them behind him as his friends burst into laughter, Jimin grabbing his hoodie from the hook beside the door.

“If you’re not sick I guess we’ll just see you at the café?” Hobi laughs.

As they file out leaving Taehyung dumbstruck and frozen, Hyejin, unable to contain herself, turns back as she pulls the door closed behind her calling your name out loudly, “We’ll see you there too! Take your time guys!”

Your friends cackle in unison as the door softly clicks shut behind them. Taehyung turns as his bedroom door opens and you, holding a blanket in front of your body, look at him in horror.

“At least we don’t need to worry about when to tell them now, I guess?” he offers, trying to put a positive spin on it.

You grimace, “Did they hear…” you choke out, unable to finish the phrase.

“Us fucking?” he supplies, not altogether helpfully, “I think it’s a safe bet they caught the, uh, climax?” Together, you burst into embarrassed laughter.

“I’m going to shower,” you groan, “Then we better go face them.”

“Want me to join you?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Absolutely fucking not,” you deadpan, shutting the door nod whining in embarrassment as you pad to the shower.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“We figured it out last night,” Hyejin admits at the café, “Though we appreciate you guys keeping it quiet for our sakes,” she smiles, laying her hand over her fiancé’s.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you say, hiding your face in your hands, while Taehyung rubs your back comfortingly.

“Don’t be!” Hobi insists, “We really didn't hear anything at all!”

“Honestly,” Namjoon adds, “It was your shoes being there and Taehyung flinging your underwear around that gave it away.”

You groan again as Hyejin cuffs his shoulder, “Not helpful, Joonie!”

It’s that moment that Yoongi rolls in, “Sorry I’m late, had a work thing to sort,” he apologises, taking a seat opposite you as you uncover your face, “What did I miss?”

You frown slightly, trying to work out what to say. Taehyung squeezes your shoulder, “Nothing much -” he begins.

Gesturing for the waitress to come over, Yoongi looks back at the two of you, “Other than these guys hearing you two going at it this morning, you mean?” he teases, “Yeah, Jimin called and told me all about that… Good for you, it’s about time.”

With a muffled wail you bury your face in Taehyung’s shoulder as he glares daggers at Jimin. Namjoon groans, cuffing Yoongi gently, careful to avoid his shoulder, “Not helpful, man!”

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

Hours later, you head back to Taehyung’s hand in hand, waving goodbye to your friends with a warm contentment that you have never felt before.

Taehyung’s hand tightens around yours, “Will you stay tonight?”

You nod, smiling, “Yeah, I just need to go home and get some stuff.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says quickly.

“You know, I won’t run away,” you tease.

He stops walking and pulls you to him, enclosing you in his arms, “I’m not letting you go for one minute. You’re mine now and I’d be lost without you, baby.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Bright sunlight cuts a sharp line across Taehyung’s eyes as he blinks slowly awake the next morning. Laying on his stomach, he buries his face into his pillow for a moment, grumbling to himself as he stretches his arm out, his fingers caressing the warmth of your skin. He turns his head, grinning as he strokes your back where you lie peacefully beside him, where you’ve always belonged.

Your eyes flicker open to meet his, reflecting his smile. Turning on your side, you move closer to him until you can kiss the tip of his nose.

It’s not long before you’re pinned beneath him, as he nuzzles into you, “Love me, love me, love me,” he insists, his kisses turning into a bruise as he sucks on your neck.

“Love you, love you, love you,” you chorus, your hands running down his hips to slide his boxers off before you wrap your hand around his thick length, gently teasing his head with the precum collecting there, drawing a gasp from him.

“What’s this?” you tease, “Having naughty dreams about someone?”

“You, always you…” he confesses as your hand begins to slide along his length, “Want…” he stutters with a shudder.

“Want what?” you ask, nipping his ear lobe as you grip firmly, your other hand reaching around to tug gently at his balls.

Breathless, his fingers explore your wet folds before he pushes your hands from him, wrapping his hand around his length. His eyes stare into yours, “I want you,” he affirms, “Only you, always you, nobody else.”

Your contented hum turns into a drawn out moan as he drives into you in one powerful thrust. Gripping his back as he fucks you hard and slow, you mouth every expression of love you can think of into the heat of each other’s skin, more in love than either of you have ever known possible.